About a Goat (January 3010) - [Ceolmund]
Oct 25, 2017 5:27:06 GMT -5
Post by Beorhtric on Oct 25, 2017 5:27:06 GMT -5
Road weary and still covered in the dust, dirt, and sweat of the ride, a tall, lean man approached the small house of Amalric and Hildred, the cool January wind tousling his long, brownish hair free from its tie. Beorhtric, rider of the Eored, was finally back in the walls of his city. Meduseld on the hill had never looked so splendid, and his family’s simple house had never seemed so much a luxury.
It was good to be home.
He reached for the doorknob, and opened the door with a sigh.
“Father? Mother? Runi?” He called into the quiet. At first all he could hear was the bleat of a goat coming from somewhere behind the house, and Beorhtric frowned. Since when did they keep animals? He repeated the call again, dropping his pack and cloak in the doorway.
“Beorhtric?” Hildred called, skirting around the wall hurriedly. The woman smiled and swept forward, throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home! The house has been so empty.”
“Mother,” he greeted, sighing into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her in return. She smelled like herbs and was warm from the hearth. “Did I hear a goat?” He asked as he pulled away.
Hildred laughed. “That would be Gleda.”
“Since when did you and Father decide to keep livestock?” Beorhtric frowned faintly.
“Well, we didn’t,” Hildred answered ushering him inside for food. She could hear his stomach was growling. “She was a gift from Ceolmund—”
Now the man’s face fell into a frown of confusion. “Why in the shadows of Meduseld did Ceolmund give us a goat?”
“For Runa, of course,” his mother chirped back. She was in the kitchen rustling through the pantry, so she did not see her son’s frown.
His heart froze. “Runa wanted a goat?” He tried to keep his voice light, or at the very least sound tired. His mother was not paying much attention, but if his voice changed too much it was going to draw it.
His mother laughed, flitting from one side of the kitchen to the other. Beorhtric leaned on the counter. “Of course not. I meant for Runa’s hand!”
“Runa’s hand? Mother, where is she?” He asked. No. Surely they didn’t allow…
“Oh, probably at Ceolmund’s house, dear. She has been off work since the arrangement. Oda agreed, it took them quite long enough,” Hildred giggled. “Newlyweds…” she mused happily to herself.
The very world seemed to stutter to a halt, and Beorhtric almost forgot to breathe. His Runi, his little sister—married? To Ceolmund? His muscles felt hot and tight, and his jaw clenched. “And Father approved of it?” He asked.
Hildred was too ecstatic to notice the downturn in her son’s tone. “Of course he did. Ceolmund is a fine young man!”
Beorhtric managed to bite back the first remark that came to mind concerning Ceolmund’s penchant for encouraging unladylike behavior in the city, and instead asked, “And his mother approved of the match? I would find that hard to believe.”
Hildred scoffed, for a moment losing her smile. “Hardly! The old crow has been causing a scene through the city for days. Trying to get the marriage annulled, persuade Ceol into a divorce—as if the woman actually believes they haven’t legally made their marriage bed—”
“Mother, please,” Beorhtric grimaced. The thought of anyone touching his little sister made him sick and angry.
And for it to be Ceolmund…
“Well, it’s true,” Hildred countered briskly. “Honestly, the woman nearly caught the house on fire. Threw Runa’s stuff all over the snow, tossed her things into the fire—Runa lost her dresses, her axe for now, and the blankets…” The woman paused, her glee morphing to a shade of sadness as she turned to look at her son. Beorhtric was frowning heavily at her, though she took it to be no more than response to Elin. “The doll you bought her when you were little? It’s gone, too.”
Beorhtric cursed, blood hot as it pulsed through his veins. He had saved an allowance for months to get Runa that doll for her birthday; he had always believed Runa was meant to be a proper little lady, and the look on Runa’s face when he had given it to her was proof he was right. She had been so thrilled.
Hildred did not even chide her son for his language. Instead she sighed.
“No matter. It’s all done now,” she hummed.
“I should get washed up and changed to go wish them well,” Beorhtric said. He turned, finally letting his face fall to match his burning emotions.
For years he had been trying to get Runa a man that would not encourage her dangerous behaviors. Someone who would help mold her into a gentlewoman and help her set aside her fascination with weaponry. How had she ended up with Ceolmund?
“Oh! If you are heading over there, could you bring Runa back her mail? Your father finished cleaning the mud from it, and I’m sure she would much rather have it in her house than ours,” Hildred’s voice called back to him.
It seemed Ceolmund had wasted no time in allowing Runa and he to carve each other up. “I can do that,” he agreed rather dourly. His mother did not catch the tone.
Ceolmund.
Runa had loved him for years. He had seen it even as a little girl—the eyes she gave him! And she was their blonde little shadow, following them almost everywhere they went. Beorhtric could hear the affection in the way she spoke to the young, shy Ceolmund, or even when she spoke to himself about the young boy, urging him to take him all over the city so he could escape his mother. At first it had not bothered him; after all, it was surely something the girl was going to grow out of.
But then he thought he had seen something in the way Ceolmund looked at her in return. Beorhtric had approached the boy on the matter, perhaps taking advantage of his shy demeanor to stop anything from budding before it had a chance to flower. Ceolmund had assured Beorhtric that while he cared for Runa, it was as a sister, and in return Beorhtric had not hesitated to let him know that he wanted Runa to find a man that was not going to be riding around all of the folds doing dangerous things, and one that would help sober his precious sister into being a true lady of Rohan.
Beorhtric knew Ceolmund well enough to know that the man was hardly going to keep his precious sister in line, or even protected from the witch that was his mother. Runa had suffered countless days of anguish because of the way the woman treated her, and whenever Beorhtric heard the stories, he could not fathom how Ceolmund allowed his mother to speak to someone Ceolmund claimed to be a sister in such a way. If Elin and his sister were not involved, Beorhtric liked him well enough, but wherever they were concerned, the man found Ceolmund disturbingly lacking in spine.
Elin was already making a fuss all over the city? He could not say he was surprised. But to burn his sisters’ things, and her new husband to do nothing…
He glanced into Runa’s empty room as he passed toward his own, and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. His Runi. He had failed her, somehow.
With a sigh, the man picked up a washcloth and set to work ridding his skin of grime. He would head to Ceolmund’s house immediately. He needed a few words.
--
He stood in front of the door, glowering at the wooden slats until he could finally bring himself to hide his expression well enough to risk knocking. He rapped on the door in a quick, measured, and unobtrusive gesture, and fell into wait.
Inside, he could hear Runa. “I don’t hear wailing,” she was saying to who he could only assume was Ceolmund. “So I doubt it’s your mother. I’ll get it. You stay off that knee.”
There was the sound of footsteps along the wooden floor, and then the click of a latch releasing. The door opened, and the bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair of his little sister appeared in the crack of the door.
“My Runi,” he said, the sound almost sad.
Runa did not seem to notice the lowness of tone.
“Bear!” She exclaimed, flinging the door open and throwing her arms around her brother’s neck as she jumped into his spread arms.
“I go away for a few weeks, come back, and you’re not even home anymore! Mother said you got married—to Ceolmund, no less!” Beorhtric exclaimed. He was already peering past her inside the small house.
“I wasn’t expecting it either,” Runa answered. “Oh! My armor. You can leave it in the hall by the door, I’ll get it later.” Giggling, she took her brother’s hand and drew him inside. Beorhtric quickly dropped the armor by the cloaks in the entry. “Ceol!” She called. “Bear’s here!”
Runa brought him to the couch and motioned for him to sit. “Did you just get back?”
“I took only the time to wash before coming over,” Bear said, sitting on the couch, perhaps a little stiffly. “I was so surprised to learn my baby sister was married—I felt I could do nothing else.”
“Then you must be hungry,” she hummed. “Would you like some tea, Bear? I can get you something before I head to the market to get the new glass pane.”
“Are you leaving, then?” He asked, glancing from his sister to Ceolmund. “Then perhaps I can report in and finish with your new husband before I visit with you.”
Runa smiled, and turned to pass into the kitchen, voice pleasantly calling behind her. “Must be about the goats,” she hummed.
As she turned, Bear’s smile dropped and he turned to look at Ceolmund, blue eyes cold and hard. “Yes, it is about a goat.”
It was good to be home.
He reached for the doorknob, and opened the door with a sigh.
“Father? Mother? Runi?” He called into the quiet. At first all he could hear was the bleat of a goat coming from somewhere behind the house, and Beorhtric frowned. Since when did they keep animals? He repeated the call again, dropping his pack and cloak in the doorway.
“Beorhtric?” Hildred called, skirting around the wall hurriedly. The woman smiled and swept forward, throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheek. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home! The house has been so empty.”
“Mother,” he greeted, sighing into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her in return. She smelled like herbs and was warm from the hearth. “Did I hear a goat?” He asked as he pulled away.
Hildred laughed. “That would be Gleda.”
“Since when did you and Father decide to keep livestock?” Beorhtric frowned faintly.
“Well, we didn’t,” Hildred answered ushering him inside for food. She could hear his stomach was growling. “She was a gift from Ceolmund—”
Now the man’s face fell into a frown of confusion. “Why in the shadows of Meduseld did Ceolmund give us a goat?”
“For Runa, of course,” his mother chirped back. She was in the kitchen rustling through the pantry, so she did not see her son’s frown.
His heart froze. “Runa wanted a goat?” He tried to keep his voice light, or at the very least sound tired. His mother was not paying much attention, but if his voice changed too much it was going to draw it.
His mother laughed, flitting from one side of the kitchen to the other. Beorhtric leaned on the counter. “Of course not. I meant for Runa’s hand!”
“Runa’s hand? Mother, where is she?” He asked. No. Surely they didn’t allow…
“Oh, probably at Ceolmund’s house, dear. She has been off work since the arrangement. Oda agreed, it took them quite long enough,” Hildred giggled. “Newlyweds…” she mused happily to herself.
The very world seemed to stutter to a halt, and Beorhtric almost forgot to breathe. His Runi, his little sister—married? To Ceolmund? His muscles felt hot and tight, and his jaw clenched. “And Father approved of it?” He asked.
Hildred was too ecstatic to notice the downturn in her son’s tone. “Of course he did. Ceolmund is a fine young man!”
Beorhtric managed to bite back the first remark that came to mind concerning Ceolmund’s penchant for encouraging unladylike behavior in the city, and instead asked, “And his mother approved of the match? I would find that hard to believe.”
Hildred scoffed, for a moment losing her smile. “Hardly! The old crow has been causing a scene through the city for days. Trying to get the marriage annulled, persuade Ceol into a divorce—as if the woman actually believes they haven’t legally made their marriage bed—”
“Mother, please,” Beorhtric grimaced. The thought of anyone touching his little sister made him sick and angry.
And for it to be Ceolmund…
“Well, it’s true,” Hildred countered briskly. “Honestly, the woman nearly caught the house on fire. Threw Runa’s stuff all over the snow, tossed her things into the fire—Runa lost her dresses, her axe for now, and the blankets…” The woman paused, her glee morphing to a shade of sadness as she turned to look at her son. Beorhtric was frowning heavily at her, though she took it to be no more than response to Elin. “The doll you bought her when you were little? It’s gone, too.”
Beorhtric cursed, blood hot as it pulsed through his veins. He had saved an allowance for months to get Runa that doll for her birthday; he had always believed Runa was meant to be a proper little lady, and the look on Runa’s face when he had given it to her was proof he was right. She had been so thrilled.
Hildred did not even chide her son for his language. Instead she sighed.
“No matter. It’s all done now,” she hummed.
“I should get washed up and changed to go wish them well,” Beorhtric said. He turned, finally letting his face fall to match his burning emotions.
For years he had been trying to get Runa a man that would not encourage her dangerous behaviors. Someone who would help mold her into a gentlewoman and help her set aside her fascination with weaponry. How had she ended up with Ceolmund?
“Oh! If you are heading over there, could you bring Runa back her mail? Your father finished cleaning the mud from it, and I’m sure she would much rather have it in her house than ours,” Hildred’s voice called back to him.
It seemed Ceolmund had wasted no time in allowing Runa and he to carve each other up. “I can do that,” he agreed rather dourly. His mother did not catch the tone.
Ceolmund.
Runa had loved him for years. He had seen it even as a little girl—the eyes she gave him! And she was their blonde little shadow, following them almost everywhere they went. Beorhtric could hear the affection in the way she spoke to the young, shy Ceolmund, or even when she spoke to himself about the young boy, urging him to take him all over the city so he could escape his mother. At first it had not bothered him; after all, it was surely something the girl was going to grow out of.
But then he thought he had seen something in the way Ceolmund looked at her in return. Beorhtric had approached the boy on the matter, perhaps taking advantage of his shy demeanor to stop anything from budding before it had a chance to flower. Ceolmund had assured Beorhtric that while he cared for Runa, it was as a sister, and in return Beorhtric had not hesitated to let him know that he wanted Runa to find a man that was not going to be riding around all of the folds doing dangerous things, and one that would help sober his precious sister into being a true lady of Rohan.
Beorhtric knew Ceolmund well enough to know that the man was hardly going to keep his precious sister in line, or even protected from the witch that was his mother. Runa had suffered countless days of anguish because of the way the woman treated her, and whenever Beorhtric heard the stories, he could not fathom how Ceolmund allowed his mother to speak to someone Ceolmund claimed to be a sister in such a way. If Elin and his sister were not involved, Beorhtric liked him well enough, but wherever they were concerned, the man found Ceolmund disturbingly lacking in spine.
Elin was already making a fuss all over the city? He could not say he was surprised. But to burn his sisters’ things, and her new husband to do nothing…
He glanced into Runa’s empty room as he passed toward his own, and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. His Runi. He had failed her, somehow.
With a sigh, the man picked up a washcloth and set to work ridding his skin of grime. He would head to Ceolmund’s house immediately. He needed a few words.
--
He stood in front of the door, glowering at the wooden slats until he could finally bring himself to hide his expression well enough to risk knocking. He rapped on the door in a quick, measured, and unobtrusive gesture, and fell into wait.
Inside, he could hear Runa. “I don’t hear wailing,” she was saying to who he could only assume was Ceolmund. “So I doubt it’s your mother. I’ll get it. You stay off that knee.”
There was the sound of footsteps along the wooden floor, and then the click of a latch releasing. The door opened, and the bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair of his little sister appeared in the crack of the door.
“My Runi,” he said, the sound almost sad.
Runa did not seem to notice the lowness of tone.
“Bear!” She exclaimed, flinging the door open and throwing her arms around her brother’s neck as she jumped into his spread arms.
“I go away for a few weeks, come back, and you’re not even home anymore! Mother said you got married—to Ceolmund, no less!” Beorhtric exclaimed. He was already peering past her inside the small house.
“I wasn’t expecting it either,” Runa answered. “Oh! My armor. You can leave it in the hall by the door, I’ll get it later.” Giggling, she took her brother’s hand and drew him inside. Beorhtric quickly dropped the armor by the cloaks in the entry. “Ceol!” She called. “Bear’s here!”
Runa brought him to the couch and motioned for him to sit. “Did you just get back?”
“I took only the time to wash before coming over,” Bear said, sitting on the couch, perhaps a little stiffly. “I was so surprised to learn my baby sister was married—I felt I could do nothing else.”
“Then you must be hungry,” she hummed. “Would you like some tea, Bear? I can get you something before I head to the market to get the new glass pane.”
“Are you leaving, then?” He asked, glancing from his sister to Ceolmund. “Then perhaps I can report in and finish with your new husband before I visit with you.”
Runa smiled, and turned to pass into the kitchen, voice pleasantly calling behind her. “Must be about the goats,” she hummed.
As she turned, Bear’s smile dropped and he turned to look at Ceolmund, blue eyes cold and hard. “Yes, it is about a goat.”