The Captain and the Boy [September 3010] [Meludir]
Apr 4, 2019 20:31:06 GMT -5
Post by Ceolmund on Apr 4, 2019 20:31:06 GMT -5
“Oh...” Leiknarr murmured as Mel lifted up the edge of her shirt, revealing skin pale as snow upon the mountainpeaks to his his eyes. It seemed the stitches were near healing, and Lieknarr had to restrain himself to keep from reaching out and touching that skin which it seemed light had never been wrought upon.
“Um… uh...” His breath was stolen. Leiknarr was, for all intents and purposes distracted by the flash of skin; he’d never gotten so far with a young woman before as to have her lift her shirt and he was not entirely sure what to do. He merely smiled, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as his cheeks turned a shade of red. He felt dizzy in the glaring autumn light.
“Sure, I do not mind. Though I wonder if Ceolmund will be okay with it. Come on, show me around.”
“My uncle… ah...” Leiknarr gasped as the young woman took him by the hand, and he looked up at her as if in a daze. His mother had warned him about forward seeming women, and he wondered suddenly if he were mixing with the wrong sort of crowd. “I suppose we should not go too far, my Uncle is probably out this way...” he muttered as they started off toward the back lot, though Leiknarr inconspicuously slipped his fingers from Mel’s grasp as they came into view of the others, not wishing to be caught.
And grateful he was, for there was the Captain waiting, a question in his eye.
“Nothing in the armory suiting?” Ceolmund asked when they neared, and Leiknarr’s hands were clasped behind his back.
“I saw the stitches… I didn’t think Aunt Runa...” Leiknarr began.
“Ah,” Ceolmund stated. Wishing to argue the fact as he too had seen how quickly the boy was healing. Yet, also he did not wish to speak against Runa’s word in the presence of their nephew. He glanced toward Mel, and then gave a nod. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“I don’t want to push her too hard,” Leiknarr said, certain and firm on the matter.
“No I mean to keep her stress level down,” Ceolmund agreed with a nod, assuming Leiknarr was still speaking upon Runa. “I do not want anything to set the baby to… loosen… with her condition…” The man looked up, raising his eyes for a moment to the watchtower which he could see far off, knowing his house and wife were beneath. Well, he hoped his wife was beneath, and had not waddled off to the healing hall.
“The baby… to… what?” Leiknarr began. “I was speaking of Mel. I do not wish to stress her injury, Uncle.”
“Her?” Ceolmund said… suddenly realizing his nephews confusion, and he pressed his lips together and glanced to Mel...
“Um… uh...” His breath was stolen. Leiknarr was, for all intents and purposes distracted by the flash of skin; he’d never gotten so far with a young woman before as to have her lift her shirt and he was not entirely sure what to do. He merely smiled, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as his cheeks turned a shade of red. He felt dizzy in the glaring autumn light.
“Sure, I do not mind. Though I wonder if Ceolmund will be okay with it. Come on, show me around.”
“My uncle… ah...” Leiknarr gasped as the young woman took him by the hand, and he looked up at her as if in a daze. His mother had warned him about forward seeming women, and he wondered suddenly if he were mixing with the wrong sort of crowd. “I suppose we should not go too far, my Uncle is probably out this way...” he muttered as they started off toward the back lot, though Leiknarr inconspicuously slipped his fingers from Mel’s grasp as they came into view of the others, not wishing to be caught.
And grateful he was, for there was the Captain waiting, a question in his eye.
“Nothing in the armory suiting?” Ceolmund asked when they neared, and Leiknarr’s hands were clasped behind his back.
“I saw the stitches… I didn’t think Aunt Runa...” Leiknarr began.
“Ah,” Ceolmund stated. Wishing to argue the fact as he too had seen how quickly the boy was healing. Yet, also he did not wish to speak against Runa’s word in the presence of their nephew. He glanced toward Mel, and then gave a nod. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“I don’t want to push her too hard,” Leiknarr said, certain and firm on the matter.
“No I mean to keep her stress level down,” Ceolmund agreed with a nod, assuming Leiknarr was still speaking upon Runa. “I do not want anything to set the baby to… loosen… with her condition…” The man looked up, raising his eyes for a moment to the watchtower which he could see far off, knowing his house and wife were beneath. Well, he hoped his wife was beneath, and had not waddled off to the healing hall.
“The baby… to… what?” Leiknarr began. “I was speaking of Mel. I do not wish to stress her injury, Uncle.”
“Her?” Ceolmund said… suddenly realizing his nephews confusion, and he pressed his lips together and glanced to Mel...