Haunted (February 3010) - [Ceolmund]
Nov 6, 2017 22:08:24 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Nov 6, 2017 22:08:24 GMT -5
“I am just glad you are safe.”
Was she, though? Even with him here? Ceolmund was mighty; a warrior and captain of the Eored, He, though, still relied on steel for his prowess. Her sword had gone right through Khamul. And if locks could not keep him out…
No. No, Ceolmund had said he would protect her. He said he would take watch so that she could relax and rest. He had always felt safe, even when she was young. His unconditional friendship, his acceptance for exactly who she was—that had been her safety then. Since he had taken her as a wife, though, there was something physically safe about him too. His arms were solid, and strong, and when they were about her, she felt as if she could not be touched.
Though, perhaps with a ghost of the Dimholt, that was not entirely true. She glanced nervously to the sprigs of tied sage, praying they would work. What if Khamul came back, and he took the two of the things in the world she loved dearer than her own life? What if Khamul was able to slay Ceolmund, what if Paega was taken? And now, the baby…
“Yes... discarded in the mud...She called the baby Vali.”
Runa’s heart clenched, and she pressed a hand to his cheek. “Ceol,” she murmured. “I’m…I’m sorry. You did everything you could. I…” She did not know what else she could say. The men that rode the plains were so incredibly strong, to be able to ride out and see the torture, the destruction, and be able to yet smile, and to feel joy and love when they returned home again.
He pressed both hands against her, and she watched his face. “Ceol,” she started.
But he had other thoughts. “Runa, you are so cold. The baby must be freezing. I have to warm you, yet I do not know what to do.”
That had startled her faintly, and the woman watched the almost desperate way he looked to the fire, then to her once more. He seemed so worried, but Cynburga had said that the ghost could not harm the baby, had she not? Runa caught her breath, suddenly aware that perhaps her husband was not convinced.
And he should not be! She was cold. She had been unable to do anything to warm herself. Her bones were almost pained for the chill in them, and she had been miserable for days. That baby, that little life…there was no way it felt warm and safe within her. What if it was already gone? What if she had killed the baby with the stress, and the chill, and the inability to care for herself?
Ceolmund shoved a bowl in her hands, and made her promise to eat. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, Runa did not even feel the kiss he pressed to her temple. She did not want to, not in the slightest, but he was watchful, so she did. The porridge was thick, warm, and rather bland, but she forced herself to swallow.
If the baby was already gone…
But perhaps it was worse if the baby were tainted. Her toes curled, and she caught her breath. What if when the baby came, it was not right? What if Khamul’s magics had warped him? The ghost had made mention that he would watch her die, that he would make her scream—had he meant this? Had he known of this child before even she had?
She was about halfway through the food, but she could not eat anything else. Runa could not bring herself to look at Ceolmund. What if she had failed at motherhood before she even had the chance to know? Would Ceolmund ever be able to forgive her?
There was a lump in her stomach as she dropped the bowl to her lap and shuddered. “I…I think we need more sage,” she whispered. But they were out. She knew they were—she had used the last real pinch when she had gotten home with Paega and her mother earlier, and the scrap had been thrown in by Cynburga not too long ago. “I don’t know where we’re going to get it,” Runa said hurriedly with a frown. “It’s the middle of winter, and I can’t…” She would have to check the herbalist again in the morning. She had gone recently to buy all she could get her hands on. He was probably out.
“Ceol,” she said quickly, her heart clenching. “W-what if we can’t get any more?”
Was she, though? Even with him here? Ceolmund was mighty; a warrior and captain of the Eored, He, though, still relied on steel for his prowess. Her sword had gone right through Khamul. And if locks could not keep him out…
No. No, Ceolmund had said he would protect her. He said he would take watch so that she could relax and rest. He had always felt safe, even when she was young. His unconditional friendship, his acceptance for exactly who she was—that had been her safety then. Since he had taken her as a wife, though, there was something physically safe about him too. His arms were solid, and strong, and when they were about her, she felt as if she could not be touched.
Though, perhaps with a ghost of the Dimholt, that was not entirely true. She glanced nervously to the sprigs of tied sage, praying they would work. What if Khamul came back, and he took the two of the things in the world she loved dearer than her own life? What if Khamul was able to slay Ceolmund, what if Paega was taken? And now, the baby…
“Yes... discarded in the mud...She called the baby Vali.”
Runa’s heart clenched, and she pressed a hand to his cheek. “Ceol,” she murmured. “I’m…I’m sorry. You did everything you could. I…” She did not know what else she could say. The men that rode the plains were so incredibly strong, to be able to ride out and see the torture, the destruction, and be able to yet smile, and to feel joy and love when they returned home again.
He pressed both hands against her, and she watched his face. “Ceol,” she started.
But he had other thoughts. “Runa, you are so cold. The baby must be freezing. I have to warm you, yet I do not know what to do.”
That had startled her faintly, and the woman watched the almost desperate way he looked to the fire, then to her once more. He seemed so worried, but Cynburga had said that the ghost could not harm the baby, had she not? Runa caught her breath, suddenly aware that perhaps her husband was not convinced.
And he should not be! She was cold. She had been unable to do anything to warm herself. Her bones were almost pained for the chill in them, and she had been miserable for days. That baby, that little life…there was no way it felt warm and safe within her. What if it was already gone? What if she had killed the baby with the stress, and the chill, and the inability to care for herself?
Ceolmund shoved a bowl in her hands, and made her promise to eat. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, Runa did not even feel the kiss he pressed to her temple. She did not want to, not in the slightest, but he was watchful, so she did. The porridge was thick, warm, and rather bland, but she forced herself to swallow.
If the baby was already gone…
But perhaps it was worse if the baby were tainted. Her toes curled, and she caught her breath. What if when the baby came, it was not right? What if Khamul’s magics had warped him? The ghost had made mention that he would watch her die, that he would make her scream—had he meant this? Had he known of this child before even she had?
She was about halfway through the food, but she could not eat anything else. Runa could not bring herself to look at Ceolmund. What if she had failed at motherhood before she even had the chance to know? Would Ceolmund ever be able to forgive her?
There was a lump in her stomach as she dropped the bowl to her lap and shuddered. “I…I think we need more sage,” she whispered. But they were out. She knew they were—she had used the last real pinch when she had gotten home with Paega and her mother earlier, and the scrap had been thrown in by Cynburga not too long ago. “I don’t know where we’re going to get it,” Runa said hurriedly with a frown. “It’s the middle of winter, and I can’t…” She would have to check the herbalist again in the morning. She had gone recently to buy all she could get her hands on. He was probably out.
“Ceol,” she said quickly, her heart clenching. “W-what if we can’t get any more?”