Ride upon the Plains (Eofor, Runa, Open to All) (June 3010)
Oct 24, 2017 13:39:40 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Oct 24, 2017 13:39:40 GMT -5
Once again, the soldier assured Runa that he would not let her fall. Inside, Runa knew that; Ceolmund existed to protect other people. He always had. Himself, he was not so good at shielding. Though, perhaps that’s why he had her.
"Relax, Tait will not do a thing with me here... though I think you are worrying her. Calm now, Tait."
Worrying her? Runa frowned. As if the horse was bothered by Runa beyond the fact she was there. Still, the saddle was even more uncomfortable the tighter her muscles clenched; if she did not make herself try and relax once more, she was going to be completely unable to move once they got back to Edoras.
"Well met, Eofor."
Runa attempted a nod in greeting as well, but her attention was swept back to Tait as she plodded along. Ceol will tell you to relax again, she told herself. Still, willing herself to do it did not make it any easier to comply. To think this was an improvement over the first time he had put her in a saddle was almost laughable. A month ago she had been a little better than this; that was before…
"Where are you off to today? It was a nice day so…we were riding down to the graves... to pay our respects. You are welcome to join us."
Ceolmund did not have to offer much detail on which graves they were going to see. Indeed, a month ago, the burials had left almost a full city in mourning, and Runa could not imagine there were any in Edoras who had not heard of the ill-fated ride: the Eastfold had needed healers, and Edoras had dispatched seven of their own to help bring the Fold back to health. Runa could picture the faces of her friends from the Healing Hall. Not friends. Family. Runa’s shoulders slumped, as if the weight in her chest was too much for her to carry.
And the three Eored as escort--Captain Ramm, Nodin, and Grindan—had been friends of Ceolmund’s.
The orcs had come so suddenly, the day had been muggy and foggy, they had never stood a chance at defending themselves. Runa was no stranger to blades, so despite her condition, and the fear she had felt, she had drawn weapons beside those soldiers. She did not think any of them thought they would survive, but if they died to buy time...if the women—no, girls—could get back to Edoras…
Runa fought back the despair that was choking her, not wishing to disturb her husband, or the new acquaintances he had made. With stiff, unskilled leads, she guided Tait to the burial mounds. The white flowers swayed in greeting as a breeze rollicked past, but Runa could not take her eyes from the fresh-tilled earth, still brown.
Two little wooden horses were set in front of two of the patches of brown. And atop the others were fragrant green leaves that the wind wafted to her nose. Rosemary. Lina and Signy.
Runa could not breathe.
Ceolmund slipped from the saddle behind her, and Tait immediately began to tromp her hooves. Runa was not welcome in her saddle. Swiftly the woman turned to slide from atop the horse, backward so as to not jar her belly. The woman’s shoulder, though, was not fully healed, and she cried out as the pressure sent a hot, searing flash down her arm and back.
The minute her feet were on the ground, though, she moved around Ceolmund and stared at the mounds. “Rosemary,” Runa said quietly. Her eyes were watering and hot. “So they can rest.” She slowly lowered herself to her knees, eyes trained on the four brown patches of earth.
She had failed them. “Signy was eighteen,” she whispered to nobody in particular. “Just married. Lina—” Her words choked into a sob, and she buried her face into her hands.
How had it happened this way? Runa had stayed behind, willing to die for them to make it home. They were so young, so gentle, so kind—and yet, somehow, Signy and Lina occupied the grave she was certain she was supposed to have.
"Relax, Tait will not do a thing with me here... though I think you are worrying her. Calm now, Tait."
Worrying her? Runa frowned. As if the horse was bothered by Runa beyond the fact she was there. Still, the saddle was even more uncomfortable the tighter her muscles clenched; if she did not make herself try and relax once more, she was going to be completely unable to move once they got back to Edoras.
"Well met, Eofor."
Runa attempted a nod in greeting as well, but her attention was swept back to Tait as she plodded along. Ceol will tell you to relax again, she told herself. Still, willing herself to do it did not make it any easier to comply. To think this was an improvement over the first time he had put her in a saddle was almost laughable. A month ago she had been a little better than this; that was before…
"Where are you off to today? It was a nice day so…we were riding down to the graves... to pay our respects. You are welcome to join us."
Ceolmund did not have to offer much detail on which graves they were going to see. Indeed, a month ago, the burials had left almost a full city in mourning, and Runa could not imagine there were any in Edoras who had not heard of the ill-fated ride: the Eastfold had needed healers, and Edoras had dispatched seven of their own to help bring the Fold back to health. Runa could picture the faces of her friends from the Healing Hall. Not friends. Family. Runa’s shoulders slumped, as if the weight in her chest was too much for her to carry.
And the three Eored as escort--Captain Ramm, Nodin, and Grindan—had been friends of Ceolmund’s.
The orcs had come so suddenly, the day had been muggy and foggy, they had never stood a chance at defending themselves. Runa was no stranger to blades, so despite her condition, and the fear she had felt, she had drawn weapons beside those soldiers. She did not think any of them thought they would survive, but if they died to buy time...if the women—no, girls—could get back to Edoras…
Runa fought back the despair that was choking her, not wishing to disturb her husband, or the new acquaintances he had made. With stiff, unskilled leads, she guided Tait to the burial mounds. The white flowers swayed in greeting as a breeze rollicked past, but Runa could not take her eyes from the fresh-tilled earth, still brown.
Two little wooden horses were set in front of two of the patches of brown. And atop the others were fragrant green leaves that the wind wafted to her nose. Rosemary. Lina and Signy.
Runa could not breathe.
Ceolmund slipped from the saddle behind her, and Tait immediately began to tromp her hooves. Runa was not welcome in her saddle. Swiftly the woman turned to slide from atop the horse, backward so as to not jar her belly. The woman’s shoulder, though, was not fully healed, and she cried out as the pressure sent a hot, searing flash down her arm and back.
The minute her feet were on the ground, though, she moved around Ceolmund and stared at the mounds. “Rosemary,” Runa said quietly. Her eyes were watering and hot. “So they can rest.” She slowly lowered herself to her knees, eyes trained on the four brown patches of earth.
She had failed them. “Signy was eighteen,” she whispered to nobody in particular. “Just married. Lina—” Her words choked into a sob, and she buried her face into her hands.
How had it happened this way? Runa had stayed behind, willing to die for them to make it home. They were so young, so gentle, so kind—and yet, somehow, Signy and Lina occupied the grave she was certain she was supposed to have.