Skin, Muscles, and Sweat (August 2998) - [Ceolmund]
Dec 31, 2018 20:44:30 GMT -5
Post by Beorhtric on Dec 31, 2018 20:44:30 GMT -5
Pale eyes, salient and cold, flew across the training ring to the mumbling, bumbling mummer that was speaking of girls and linen. Beorhtric’s words were not quick enough in coming in return; the comment came, somehow missing the ears of his sister, but flit like fire through the rest of the boys. Eyes were shifting to Runa, to her…assests…and it made Bear’s cheeks grow hot and his stomach tighten.
“Hardly can tell she is a girl unless it’s raining. Ceol, you making plans for after training? Bet she can’t wait to get out of that dress.”
“That’s my sister,” Beorhtric growled in warning, casting his attention to Gudmarr, then to Ceolmund for a moment. The taller boy was looking at her, his eyes falling precisely where everyone else’s were. The strain on his face, the desire that was nearly palpable in the air—it was enough to make Bear ill.
Ceolmund, though, deflected, speaking of taking her to his grandmother’s, of not wanting Runa to be alone. Bear’s lips turned downward, steely and sharp. Of course Ceolmund did not want Runa to be left alone—not with the way he was looking upon her. What the young man imagined, though, was a far cry from the innocent meaning Ceolmund had intended to impart. “I think you should take her straight to the Hall if she’s sick,” the man offered, though whether Bear actually believed she was ill was another matter entirely. “Mother will see to her between her patients.” And there would be more eyes than old Dagny around to make sure hands stayed where they were supposed to. And lips. And…
Dogs in heat, the both of them.
“Stop gawking, attention!”
“Let’s get this over with. Before she… catches a chill.”
Bear noted the way the young man’s eyes slid back to Runa and her thin dress, the striking attention too bold for an older brother’s liking. “Yes, let’s,” he drawled, fighting the bile that was rising up in his throat at the thought. He, himself, could not look to the fence, though he had half a mind to ask Runa to leave—or escort her himself against the captain’s orders. Surely he could see the way the men were looking at her. Surely Ramm had a sister that he would wish away from a place like this.
“Begin,” Ramm ordered.
Rain pelted down as the two partners began to slowly circle about, foot over foot. At first swing, Bear was met with the clank of the shield boss, Ceolmund easily batting away the blade he had offered. Foot over foot again, and now Bear’s back was to the fencing.
That was when he noted it. The shift of attention. Beorhtric watched as Ceolmund’s blue eyes slid from his own hips and footwork to over his shoulder. The young man felt as if he could see Runa reflected in his eyes. The growl he felt humming in his throat rose to a roar, and with a quick lunge, Beorhtric threw his shoulder and arm behind his shield.
A resounding crack like thunder sounded about the ring, and as Ceolmund tumbled to the ground, Bear heard a few murmurs and groans—one of which rose above the others. “Ceol!” Runa’s voice grew closer. “Ceol! Eorl’s flaming knickers, Bear! You might’ve given him a concussion.”
“He’s fine, Runa, it was a spar—” Bear tried.
It was too late. She was already careening to her knees beside the fallen Eored, brushing his hair from his face. “Ceol, can you look at me?”
“Hardly can tell she is a girl unless it’s raining. Ceol, you making plans for after training? Bet she can’t wait to get out of that dress.”
“That’s my sister,” Beorhtric growled in warning, casting his attention to Gudmarr, then to Ceolmund for a moment. The taller boy was looking at her, his eyes falling precisely where everyone else’s were. The strain on his face, the desire that was nearly palpable in the air—it was enough to make Bear ill.
Ceolmund, though, deflected, speaking of taking her to his grandmother’s, of not wanting Runa to be alone. Bear’s lips turned downward, steely and sharp. Of course Ceolmund did not want Runa to be left alone—not with the way he was looking upon her. What the young man imagined, though, was a far cry from the innocent meaning Ceolmund had intended to impart. “I think you should take her straight to the Hall if she’s sick,” the man offered, though whether Bear actually believed she was ill was another matter entirely. “Mother will see to her between her patients.” And there would be more eyes than old Dagny around to make sure hands stayed where they were supposed to. And lips. And…
Dogs in heat, the both of them.
“Stop gawking, attention!”
“Let’s get this over with. Before she… catches a chill.”
Bear noted the way the young man’s eyes slid back to Runa and her thin dress, the striking attention too bold for an older brother’s liking. “Yes, let’s,” he drawled, fighting the bile that was rising up in his throat at the thought. He, himself, could not look to the fence, though he had half a mind to ask Runa to leave—or escort her himself against the captain’s orders. Surely he could see the way the men were looking at her. Surely Ramm had a sister that he would wish away from a place like this.
“Begin,” Ramm ordered.
Rain pelted down as the two partners began to slowly circle about, foot over foot. At first swing, Bear was met with the clank of the shield boss, Ceolmund easily batting away the blade he had offered. Foot over foot again, and now Bear’s back was to the fencing.
That was when he noted it. The shift of attention. Beorhtric watched as Ceolmund’s blue eyes slid from his own hips and footwork to over his shoulder. The young man felt as if he could see Runa reflected in his eyes. The growl he felt humming in his throat rose to a roar, and with a quick lunge, Beorhtric threw his shoulder and arm behind his shield.
A resounding crack like thunder sounded about the ring, and as Ceolmund tumbled to the ground, Bear heard a few murmurs and groans—one of which rose above the others. “Ceol!” Runa’s voice grew closer. “Ceol! Eorl’s flaming knickers, Bear! You might’ve given him a concussion.”
“He’s fine, Runa, it was a spar—” Bear tried.
It was too late. She was already careening to her knees beside the fallen Eored, brushing his hair from his face. “Ceol, can you look at me?”