A Little Challenge {May 3010} [Alvi]
Apr 7, 2018 1:40:51 GMT -5
Post by Swithin on Apr 7, 2018 1:40:51 GMT -5
“I think half the city's out and about already,” Swithin laughed to his brother as they rode past the festival grounds where wood was being stacked for the great bonfires which would blaze in the night in celebration of Beltane. The grasses were growing green upon the field, the white simbelmynë blooming on the barrow mounds ahead, and different colorful spring flowers were scattered about the roadside.
“Games! Songs! Revery! The celebration of life! Love! Procreat--” Oswin paused, crinkling his brow. “Well I could live without that.”
“I'm not sure how you live without it at all,” Swithin chided. “All the women you've had, you must be the most infertile man to ev--”
“Nay! You simply do not know the trick of it! I suppose you'll want to knoooow with that girl you've been--”
“Stop,” Swithin warned, giving his brother a pointed look. “I wouldn't be testing out my fertility as it is, not until--”
“You going to crown her the May Queen?” Oswin prodded with a laugh.
“When I win the sparring tournament tonight, I will,” Swithin answered, lifting his chin as if such a thing would be no trouble. He had a fair chance; being the son of a Training Captain, afterall, he knew his skill. Maybe if he made some show of his brawn it would be enough for her to give him a second look. Albeit, even if he did win the tournament and earn the right to name the May Queen, she would not be at the festival grounds.
“I bet I can out-spar you. Long as the Captain isn't fighting, I'll win it,” Oswin boasted. The Captain never went to the festivals at any rate, and though Oswin was not always the champion, he had won a few times.”
“And who would get your flower crown?” Swithin asked, rolling his eyes.
“Anyone I want to give it to. I'll have twelve dance partners tonight if I feel like it,” Oswin noted.
“You think you could get twelve?” Swithin asked in return.
“I'll get any twelve I want. Any twelve in the city… any girl I feel like asking,” Oswin said.
“Bet you couldn't get any. I know one who wouldn't,” Swithin stated assuredly. He knew very well at least one who would say no to his brother. Adelais had turned even him down to dance, and he'd asked her often enough that she had slammed the door shut in his face last time.
“I could get Addy,” Oswin grinned knowingly, casting a side glance to his brother. “I'll wait til she's drunk at home and lure her down with another drink. She wouldn't turn down the mead at the festival grounds. Bet she'd have a great time, dancing with me.”
“Don't you dare offer her mead. I wouldn't let her dance with you,” Swithin retorted low.
“Hah,” Oswin put in. “If I gave her the May Crown, you wouldn't be able to stop me. The King himself would insist I dance with her at the fires. Then maybe I'll take her out to the hollows for a bit of fun after,” he winked to his brother.
Swithin's jaw clenched and his ears turned bright red. “The King wouldn't be able to enforce a dance if both your legs were broken,” he snipped back.
“Both my legs...” Oswin looked aghast, then slapped his hand on his thigh as the horses marked their steps onward toward the city. “If both my legs were broken, you'd have to do all the water hauling, and wood splitting yourself.”
“I could set your chair up next to the wood pile, and hand you your splitting maul. Then you'd be all set for the afternoon,” Swithin replied, though his voice was still a slight rigid despite the jesting.
“That sounds like a sour day. Fine. Maybe I'll pick a different one to crown the May Queen after all. The whole city would dance with me if I asked it of them,” Oswin mused.
“Now you say the whole city and I doubted twelve,” Swithin said.
“Of course, pick a girl. Any girl. I'll win her a dance,” Oswin announced with a laugh.
Swithin reached a hand up to stroke his beard and looked about the field for a minute. There were plenty of faces to choose from, with people going in and out today. Horses and carts setting things up on the festival ground, man and women headed back home for a mid day meal before the revelry began. Then he caught sight of her.
“I dare say, try for that one there,” Swithin pointed at a woman, dressed in breeches and tunic, with her dark hair cropped short.
“That's a boy,” Owsin shook his head with an incredulous laugh. “I said a any woman would dance with me.”
“That's no man. That's Alvi,” Swithin grinned, “And she's any woman I should think.”
“Alvi?” Oswin's eyes widened in recognition. “Well I didn't… I didn't mean her either.” His face distorted slightly and he glanced back to his brother. “Go on, pick a different one. Any one, other than--”
“No, you said any woman. Why not Alvi?” Swithin grinned, glad he'd found a way to make his brother just as uncomfortable as he'd been a couple minutes past. “Go on, it's a perfect time to ask, ride on up and ask her; I want to hear the answer. You've plenty in common with her.”
“In common?” Oswin frowned. “Well I suppose we both wear britches.”
“You both like horses,” Swithin pointed out. Alvi was atop her own horse. What business she was doing out on the festival grounds, neither of the men could determine but it was unlikely she was ever seen without her horse; at least out on the field.
“Well I suppose she had that in common with about everyone in Rohan,” Oswin answered.
“Want me to ask her for you?” Swithin asked, heeling his horse to a trot, while Oswin scrambled to follow.
“I'll ask on my own, thank you very much,” Oswin answered. “I'll win my own games, that is.”
“I'm looking forward to watching you win. Always there for my brother,” Swithin said.
Oswin offered an uncomfortable look and pushed ahead of Swithin, a slightly brooding look upon the face. Alvi was one of the surliest woman either of the brothers had ever met; and though the spent a great deal of time in the stables, they did their best to avoid her elsewhere. Yet, the man could nto turn down a challenge. Especially one his brother had posed. He regretted mentioning dancing with Swithin's girl at all, but now he couldn't do a thing about it. The trial had been placed before him.
“Good day, Alvi!” Swithin called to the woman brightly as they neared, before his brother could take the chance to ride off without saying a thing. He knew the woman by name, though not much else aside her ill-natured temperament. He was used to dealing with temperaments lately, for better or worse, and he rode up aside her. Oswin heeled his horse off to her other side, and traveling three horses abreast they took up nearly the whole of the road.
“Getting ready for the festival tonight?” Oswin questioned, for once in his life, hesitant.
“Games! Songs! Revery! The celebration of life! Love! Procreat--” Oswin paused, crinkling his brow. “Well I could live without that.”
“I'm not sure how you live without it at all,” Swithin chided. “All the women you've had, you must be the most infertile man to ev--”
“Nay! You simply do not know the trick of it! I suppose you'll want to knoooow with that girl you've been--”
“Stop,” Swithin warned, giving his brother a pointed look. “I wouldn't be testing out my fertility as it is, not until--”
“You going to crown her the May Queen?” Oswin prodded with a laugh.
“When I win the sparring tournament tonight, I will,” Swithin answered, lifting his chin as if such a thing would be no trouble. He had a fair chance; being the son of a Training Captain, afterall, he knew his skill. Maybe if he made some show of his brawn it would be enough for her to give him a second look. Albeit, even if he did win the tournament and earn the right to name the May Queen, she would not be at the festival grounds.
“I bet I can out-spar you. Long as the Captain isn't fighting, I'll win it,” Oswin boasted. The Captain never went to the festivals at any rate, and though Oswin was not always the champion, he had won a few times.”
“And who would get your flower crown?” Swithin asked, rolling his eyes.
“Anyone I want to give it to. I'll have twelve dance partners tonight if I feel like it,” Oswin noted.
“You think you could get twelve?” Swithin asked in return.
“I'll get any twelve I want. Any twelve in the city… any girl I feel like asking,” Oswin said.
“Bet you couldn't get any. I know one who wouldn't,” Swithin stated assuredly. He knew very well at least one who would say no to his brother. Adelais had turned even him down to dance, and he'd asked her often enough that she had slammed the door shut in his face last time.
“I could get Addy,” Oswin grinned knowingly, casting a side glance to his brother. “I'll wait til she's drunk at home and lure her down with another drink. She wouldn't turn down the mead at the festival grounds. Bet she'd have a great time, dancing with me.”
“Don't you dare offer her mead. I wouldn't let her dance with you,” Swithin retorted low.
“Hah,” Oswin put in. “If I gave her the May Crown, you wouldn't be able to stop me. The King himself would insist I dance with her at the fires. Then maybe I'll take her out to the hollows for a bit of fun after,” he winked to his brother.
Swithin's jaw clenched and his ears turned bright red. “The King wouldn't be able to enforce a dance if both your legs were broken,” he snipped back.
“Both my legs...” Oswin looked aghast, then slapped his hand on his thigh as the horses marked their steps onward toward the city. “If both my legs were broken, you'd have to do all the water hauling, and wood splitting yourself.”
“I could set your chair up next to the wood pile, and hand you your splitting maul. Then you'd be all set for the afternoon,” Swithin replied, though his voice was still a slight rigid despite the jesting.
“That sounds like a sour day. Fine. Maybe I'll pick a different one to crown the May Queen after all. The whole city would dance with me if I asked it of them,” Oswin mused.
“Now you say the whole city and I doubted twelve,” Swithin said.
“Of course, pick a girl. Any girl. I'll win her a dance,” Oswin announced with a laugh.
Swithin reached a hand up to stroke his beard and looked about the field for a minute. There were plenty of faces to choose from, with people going in and out today. Horses and carts setting things up on the festival ground, man and women headed back home for a mid day meal before the revelry began. Then he caught sight of her.
“I dare say, try for that one there,” Swithin pointed at a woman, dressed in breeches and tunic, with her dark hair cropped short.
“That's a boy,” Owsin shook his head with an incredulous laugh. “I said a any woman would dance with me.”
“That's no man. That's Alvi,” Swithin grinned, “And she's any woman I should think.”
“Alvi?” Oswin's eyes widened in recognition. “Well I didn't… I didn't mean her either.” His face distorted slightly and he glanced back to his brother. “Go on, pick a different one. Any one, other than--”
“No, you said any woman. Why not Alvi?” Swithin grinned, glad he'd found a way to make his brother just as uncomfortable as he'd been a couple minutes past. “Go on, it's a perfect time to ask, ride on up and ask her; I want to hear the answer. You've plenty in common with her.”
“In common?” Oswin frowned. “Well I suppose we both wear britches.”
“You both like horses,” Swithin pointed out. Alvi was atop her own horse. What business she was doing out on the festival grounds, neither of the men could determine but it was unlikely she was ever seen without her horse; at least out on the field.
“Well I suppose she had that in common with about everyone in Rohan,” Oswin answered.
“Want me to ask her for you?” Swithin asked, heeling his horse to a trot, while Oswin scrambled to follow.
“I'll ask on my own, thank you very much,” Oswin answered. “I'll win my own games, that is.”
“I'm looking forward to watching you win. Always there for my brother,” Swithin said.
Oswin offered an uncomfortable look and pushed ahead of Swithin, a slightly brooding look upon the face. Alvi was one of the surliest woman either of the brothers had ever met; and though the spent a great deal of time in the stables, they did their best to avoid her elsewhere. Yet, the man could nto turn down a challenge. Especially one his brother had posed. He regretted mentioning dancing with Swithin's girl at all, but now he couldn't do a thing about it. The trial had been placed before him.
“Good day, Alvi!” Swithin called to the woman brightly as they neared, before his brother could take the chance to ride off without saying a thing. He knew the woman by name, though not much else aside her ill-natured temperament. He was used to dealing with temperaments lately, for better or worse, and he rode up aside her. Oswin heeled his horse off to her other side, and traveling three horses abreast they took up nearly the whole of the road.
“Getting ready for the festival tonight?” Oswin questioned, for once in his life, hesitant.