Faster than the Mearas [February 3011] - [Adanedhel]
Nov 1, 2018 17:57:52 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Nov 1, 2018 17:57:52 GMT -5
A trip to the market alone.
Runa sighed into the blissful daylight, a peace within that only she could truly feel, though many could see. Paega was yet playing at home in her room, building and rebuilding the paddocks, content to corral the new pheasant chicks and her wooden horses together. “A wreal fawrm, Mama!” The girl had now said more than once.
Eormund was down for a nap in his cradle, fed until he could keep his eyes open no longer. If there was one thing that could make that baby happy, it was milk.
And Adanedhel, the guest she had taken into her home, had been kind enough to lend his keen eye and ear to them for Runa to be awarded this treat. No hands pulled on her, no cries begged for sustenance in the middle of the street. One trip—one blissful trip—to collect the food for supper that was all to herself.
Truthfully, she had never imagined so small a thing being a treat—and yet…
“Oh, Runa!” A voice, familiar from the depths of memory sounded in surprise.
Runa’s eyes lifted with a small gasp, spying the honeyed ringlets and wide, crystalline eyes looking back upon her in much the same expression. Stuttered movements brought Runa’s hand back to her side, and she absently tugged on her dress and felt a patter rush through her heart. “Gisillia,” Runa greeted.
“You…you look well,” Gisillia offered. For a moment, there was a silence, and the two women eyed one another before looking back down to the stalk of carrot they both had been reaching for. “I’ve heard you’re a mother now?”
A part of Runa felt she should be tight and tense; since falling out of graces with Gisillia and her friends, a great feeling of inadequacy had crept and settled into the woman’s spirit, one that followed as a shadow, and seemed to grow as she had aged. Still, looking upon the tall, lithe figure Runa had once been able to call friend, she felt nothing but peace. Love. The woman smiled, eyes bright, heart humming now in happier tunes. “I am,” she answered. “Ceol and I have quite the nest coming along.” There was a hint of laughter in Runa’s lilt, though the curly-haired woman before her seemed somewhat taken aback. Whether it was the expression Runa wore herself, the words, or thought of Runa’s children that had managed to rob Gisillia of her normally collected and smooth countenance, Runa could not really tell.
“Yes, he’s keen on taking in strays, isn’t he?” Gisillia hummed, flicking her eyes over Runa’s shape a moment, a small grimace coming to her lip when she noted the small bump under Runa’s coat and linen.
Runa paused, eyeing the woman before her as if hoping to read from her eyes what it was she meant by such a statement. “Taking in Paega has been a joy,” Runa declared firmly. And it had been—even on the days their beloved daughter devolved into more tantrums than giggles. Runa would never have traded the girl away, and she knew neither would her husband.
“And he’s going to keep the elf’s as well?” Gisillia asked, brow lifting.
Runa frowned. “The elf? He’s a full grown man and can fend for himself. He’s just waiting for fairer weather to leave—”
Gisillia rolled her eyes. “Not the elf, that one you’re growing. Is the Captain going to be all right with adopting that one as well? Or is the elf going to take it with him?”
“What?” Runa asked, her voice for a moment catching an edge.
“I’ve seen him around,” the lady shrugged. “He’s not so bad to look at. Shame you’re going to get caught for a mistake.”
“Get caught?” Runa repeated, a frown coming to her features that turned the brightness of her eyes to winter. “The baby is Ceol’s.” Her hand lifted to brush against her stomach, her lips twisting at the very thought of the babe belonging to another.
“It’s all right, Runa,” Gisillia hummed, plucking the carrot from the display and looking to her in what looked of genuine apology and sympathy. Surely she could not have been serious, though—Runa could hardly imagine how anyone would think Ceolmund would not receive her fealty, especially in matters of the heart. “You won’t be the first woman to be charmed. Gudmarr says Captain Ceolmund might even forgive you for it.”
“What?” Runa’s voice choked out in a gasp.
“Here’s that bacon, Runa—Heruthain carved it himself last night,” a kind, keen voice interjected.
“Katla,” Runa blinked, turning to look toward the woman and take the bundled meat. “Thank you—I…I think I’m all set.” She needed to hurry home. Maybe Adanedhel would know what to do about how to disprove a rumor. Maybe he would need to stay at her parents’ house—if rumor got out…
“Eorl’s—” Runa swallowed the rest, flashing eyes to Katla apologetically. “Sorry. Here,” Runa offered, extending the grocer coin enough for the food and extra. She and Ceolmund knew how much Heruthain and his family were doing for Adelais; even small bits of coin could help, so they had taken to offering more than necessary when they went to pick up groceries. Small favors that had no hope of matching the great one they had done for her friend.
“I have to go, Katla, I’ll chat later,” Runa offered hurriedly as she turned and made quick move toward the door. What was it about Edoras and rumors flying faster than the Maeras?
Runa sighed into the blissful daylight, a peace within that only she could truly feel, though many could see. Paega was yet playing at home in her room, building and rebuilding the paddocks, content to corral the new pheasant chicks and her wooden horses together. “A wreal fawrm, Mama!” The girl had now said more than once.
Eormund was down for a nap in his cradle, fed until he could keep his eyes open no longer. If there was one thing that could make that baby happy, it was milk.
And Adanedhel, the guest she had taken into her home, had been kind enough to lend his keen eye and ear to them for Runa to be awarded this treat. No hands pulled on her, no cries begged for sustenance in the middle of the street. One trip—one blissful trip—to collect the food for supper that was all to herself.
Truthfully, she had never imagined so small a thing being a treat—and yet…
“Oh, Runa!” A voice, familiar from the depths of memory sounded in surprise.
Runa’s eyes lifted with a small gasp, spying the honeyed ringlets and wide, crystalline eyes looking back upon her in much the same expression. Stuttered movements brought Runa’s hand back to her side, and she absently tugged on her dress and felt a patter rush through her heart. “Gisillia,” Runa greeted.
“You…you look well,” Gisillia offered. For a moment, there was a silence, and the two women eyed one another before looking back down to the stalk of carrot they both had been reaching for. “I’ve heard you’re a mother now?”
A part of Runa felt she should be tight and tense; since falling out of graces with Gisillia and her friends, a great feeling of inadequacy had crept and settled into the woman’s spirit, one that followed as a shadow, and seemed to grow as she had aged. Still, looking upon the tall, lithe figure Runa had once been able to call friend, she felt nothing but peace. Love. The woman smiled, eyes bright, heart humming now in happier tunes. “I am,” she answered. “Ceol and I have quite the nest coming along.” There was a hint of laughter in Runa’s lilt, though the curly-haired woman before her seemed somewhat taken aback. Whether it was the expression Runa wore herself, the words, or thought of Runa’s children that had managed to rob Gisillia of her normally collected and smooth countenance, Runa could not really tell.
“Yes, he’s keen on taking in strays, isn’t he?” Gisillia hummed, flicking her eyes over Runa’s shape a moment, a small grimace coming to her lip when she noted the small bump under Runa’s coat and linen.
Runa paused, eyeing the woman before her as if hoping to read from her eyes what it was she meant by such a statement. “Taking in Paega has been a joy,” Runa declared firmly. And it had been—even on the days their beloved daughter devolved into more tantrums than giggles. Runa would never have traded the girl away, and she knew neither would her husband.
“And he’s going to keep the elf’s as well?” Gisillia asked, brow lifting.
Runa frowned. “The elf? He’s a full grown man and can fend for himself. He’s just waiting for fairer weather to leave—”
Gisillia rolled her eyes. “Not the elf, that one you’re growing. Is the Captain going to be all right with adopting that one as well? Or is the elf going to take it with him?”
“What?” Runa asked, her voice for a moment catching an edge.
“I’ve seen him around,” the lady shrugged. “He’s not so bad to look at. Shame you’re going to get caught for a mistake.”
“Get caught?” Runa repeated, a frown coming to her features that turned the brightness of her eyes to winter. “The baby is Ceol’s.” Her hand lifted to brush against her stomach, her lips twisting at the very thought of the babe belonging to another.
“It’s all right, Runa,” Gisillia hummed, plucking the carrot from the display and looking to her in what looked of genuine apology and sympathy. Surely she could not have been serious, though—Runa could hardly imagine how anyone would think Ceolmund would not receive her fealty, especially in matters of the heart. “You won’t be the first woman to be charmed. Gudmarr says Captain Ceolmund might even forgive you for it.”
“What?” Runa’s voice choked out in a gasp.
“Here’s that bacon, Runa—Heruthain carved it himself last night,” a kind, keen voice interjected.
“Katla,” Runa blinked, turning to look toward the woman and take the bundled meat. “Thank you—I…I think I’m all set.” She needed to hurry home. Maybe Adanedhel would know what to do about how to disprove a rumor. Maybe he would need to stay at her parents’ house—if rumor got out…
“Eorl’s—” Runa swallowed the rest, flashing eyes to Katla apologetically. “Sorry. Here,” Runa offered, extending the grocer coin enough for the food and extra. She and Ceolmund knew how much Heruthain and his family were doing for Adelais; even small bits of coin could help, so they had taken to offering more than necessary when they went to pick up groceries. Small favors that had no hope of matching the great one they had done for her friend.
“I have to go, Katla, I’ll chat later,” Runa offered hurriedly as she turned and made quick move toward the door. What was it about Edoras and rumors flying faster than the Maeras?