Drinks Among Friends (March 3010) - [Ceolmund, Theodred]
Dec 7, 2017 19:00:38 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Dec 7, 2017 19:00:38 GMT -5
Cenric, who was ever a somber character, seemed to light up a shade as Thea padded her way softly into the room, Grindan with his arm about her.
“Thea. You take this seat.”
“Oh,” Thea started, moving to protest. Still Grindan pressed her warmly against him, and interjected before his dear wife could try and deny the offered seat.
“Thank you, Cenric, that’s very kind. Come on, love,” the man hummed, his reddish beard glinting brighter in the firelight as he lead the woman right to the chair and helped her to sit. “Now you just rest here, and I’ll see if I can find a blank—”
“Oh Thea. I'm glad the rains are holding off. It smells like spring outside now, doesn't it?”
“All I could smell was that stew through the whole of the city.”
“Try smelling it all day,” Grindan offered, flashing Gerlaf a wide, toothy grin. “I already got to sneak a bite at home. Probably because I looked so pitiful waiting.”
“It was for tonight,” Thea reminded him, and though her tone was quiet and nearly lost amongst the rest of the bustle of the room, her eyes glittered like stars to show her jest. Much of the woman existed in subtlety, but Grindan’s eyes sparkled in response.
Grindan smiled to Sunnifa in thanks, taking the blanket in hand, unfolding it and gracefully setting it across his wife’s small lap. “But it is starting to smell like spring. That means the garden will be coming in soon,” Grindan hummed, glittering green eyes warm and gentle upon his wife’s pale face. “The windows will look lively again.”
“And more vegetables in the market,” Thea added quietly with a small curl of her lip.
“Aye,” the man laughed, for a moment taking a hand to brush over the woman’s head and soft, silken hair. “Which might mean we have to bring the whole of the Eored to our house so we don’t drown in all that good food you’re going to make,” Grindan added in laughter. “Gerlaf, you and Drifa are welcome as always. Sunni, might want to wrangle those boys into helping us. I bet they’re endless pits these days!”
“It's Wynfled. I don't know why Bjarr insists on calling me that childhood trifle to everyone we meet. I'll save my mead until after the meal, of course.”
“Perhaps he likes it,” Adelais countered, her voice sugary in a forced way. She could not imagine what had happened to bring the two of them together; he did not seem so much a thorn, no matter the baby-ness of his face. “Suit yourself, though! It means more for us for now!”
“Adelais was it?”
“I'll bet you go by Addi. Unless we need call you by your full name.”
“What says she doesn't go by Laisa?”
“Oh, gentlemen, please,” she hummed larkishly with a bright eye. “Addi, Laisa...I’m not so high maintenance.” She gave Wynfeld a pointed look, though smirked and looked back up at the two brothers as the woman made a speedy retreat for the couch where she settled in beside her husband.
“I'll get that tray. You're a guest here too. Sit!”
“You’re a guest too,” she laughed faintly as Sunnifa swept in and took the tray from her. It was very apparent she did not mind. Before she had completely disappeared, though, Adelais grabbed a drink, replacing the mead she had already downed in the kitchen. Her cheeks felt warm and pleasant already, for she had not eaten in many hours. “Well, ordered to sit. She must not like my serving,” the woman jested with a smirk.
Oswin and Swithin immediately vied for her attention, and she sipped her drink and watched the antics as they beckoned her to join first one, then the other. For a moment a small voice, one that was nearly numbed by the sound, the cheery air of the home, and the drink in her blood, whispered to her. “Oh, Ads, it’s wonderful. Thank you.” For a moment, the woman grimaced behind her glass, and tipped the cup to drown more of the mead. That voice haunted her every day, even though it had been eight years and she could no longer recall what precisely he had sounded like. That always made it worse.
“What'll you have, brother? Mead? Or the brennevin? A mix?”
“Ah…I can't decide. Is it a good cask? Perhaps I'll give Runa's a taste.”
Before Runa could offer a single word, Ceolmund had taken her glass and tilted it, drowning the whole thing in one sitting. The men began to cheer and laugh, and Ceolmund’s face was positively glowing now. She had never seen him pull such a stunt, though perhaps the day Elin had tried burning down their house had come close. It had been a glass of straight brennevin then, though. Perhaps that was worse. She smirked up at him, taking the empty glass back in hand.
Sunnifa, though, looked flabbergasted.
“Ceol!”
“And how was that cask, Ceol?” Runa hummed pleasantly. She was thankful to have the drink gone.
“Nothing like a drink after a fine ride!”
That caused Runa to shoot her eyes to the young man, a slight lift of her brow matching with the faint pink color that took her cheek. A ride? Ceolmund had not been to the stables at all that day—he could not possibly mean…? Gerlaf, though, almost choked on his mead as he began to laugh, and her stomach slowly knotted as she realized the type her husband and she enjoyed together was in fact the type of ride Oswin was talking about. Quickly, she looked to Ceolmund.
“He's going to be a Father tomorrow! Let the man have some fun while he still can.”
“What?” Runa’s brain caught up with the words before she made the terrible mistake of assuming it was a different coming fatherhood that Gerlaf had meant. Still, the realization did not dawn before her stomach rolled, and the woman wondered for a moment if she should make a run for the basin she had kept by their bedside since Ceolmund had come home.
“From the sounds of it, he'll still have fun once the little one is tucked in.”
“Eorl’s flaming knickers,” Runa gasped under her breath, blue eyes wide in horror. From the sound of what? She looked to Ceolmund, silently wondering if he perhaps had a looser tongue with his Eored than she had before anticipated. “I-I-I--”
Thea herself became pink, and she looked to Grindan nervously, though the man was laughing himself, a hand squeezing her shoulder as he stood at her side. “Come now, Swithin,” he remarked. “Ceol works hard enough to be as entertained as he wishes.”
“Come now, it’s not just dear Ceolmund who works hard and deserves a release,” Adelais chimed, flicking her eyes to Runa with a glimmer of amusement, and hiding her smile behind her glass as she drank a bit more of the sweet honey-wine.
“I wouldn't mind being a Father someday.”
“Well you can mind it awhile longer.”
“I think you'd make a good Father, Bjarr.”
Adelais could hardly imagine Wynfeld as a mother. She probably would be averse to being called “Mama” or “Ma” and demand being called “Mother”. The thought amused her, and the young woman snorted a laugh as she turned her attention away.
“Well, I'm going to have a seat while we wait. There's an open seat here, Laisa.”
“Nonsense.”
“Hey! You're the one who usually ends up on the floor drunk!”
Runa gasped, and took a step toward the mess helplessly, watching, mouth agape, as Swithin and Oswin laughed and pulled themselves up and continued to ask Adelais to sit. Her heart seemed to seize. She had known Oswin and Swithin to be the liveliest of the group, even while they had worked. They were young bachelors, and more rambunctious than Ceolmund had ever been when he had sported such a title. She worried a moment that their presence was going to make matters worse with Adelais. Runa did not know what mead she was on—it was at least her second—but the woman’s cheek was already glowing pink, and her eyes seemed to dance wilder. “Are you all right?” Runa asked quickly. “I’ll get something to clean it up—”
Ceolmund, though, had already ducked to the kitchen, so Runa stood helplessly where she was wondering if the night was going to prove to be such a disaster all evening.
“Boys, boys!” Adelais remarked with a laugh as Swithin tried to right himself, and the mead sloshed over the floor. “There’s no need to fight over me. I have two sides.” She slid her way forward and slid upon the stool between them. “Now, see? We can behave.” Her eyes were glittering. Perhaps she was not so behaved as she implied.
Runa had another mug of mead pressed into her hand by Sunni, and she had never in all her life wanted to drink something more than in that moment. Her nerves felt like they were strung so tight they were humming within her. She forced a smile and nodded to her. “Thank you,” she said to her, lifting the mead as if to drink it, though as soon as Sunni’s attention flitted elsewhere she lowered it again without a single sip. She could feel eyes on her, and slowly she turned her attention to Wynfeld, finding her icy stare immediately. Runa tried to offer a smile, but found instead that the woman was not keen on returning it. Ceolmund was returning from the kitchen, a towel in hand, and the woman quickly intercepted him.
“Ceol, this is going to be a disaster,” she whispered to him urgently, placing her mead glass into his hand and plucking the cloth from his. “I’ll take care of the spill. Just…drink that for me?” She murmured, turning. “Are you all right, Swithin?” She asked with a small smile.
“And he’s not even drunk yet,” Adelais remarked with a laugh. “You know some fun characters, Ceolmund!”
"Poor Runa's been cleaning up after us all week!" Grindan laughed. "I know Thea would've been cooking for us if she could carry the pot over herself."
"Oh," Runa said over her shoulder, smiling at Grindan and Thea as she knelt upon the floor to scrub. "It was no trouble. I should thank you for all the work everyone did. Paega will be very excited to have her own room again, I think." She supposed it was close staying in her own old room at her parents' house, though it had been months now that the little girl had not had a place to call hers, or a family that she could call her own. She and Ceolmund would get to tell her the news tomorrow. Runa hoped the girl would be excited; she did not know what she would do if the girl was somehow unhappy.
She had called her "Mama", and Ceolmund "Papa"; yet, perhaps things would be scarier when it was official. Runa had grown more concerned the closer the room had gotten to being finished, and though she had not mentioned it to her husband, she had been lifting prayers to Bema every night that the transition would go smoothly for her. Paega had seen enough trouble.
“Thea. You take this seat.”
“Oh,” Thea started, moving to protest. Still Grindan pressed her warmly against him, and interjected before his dear wife could try and deny the offered seat.
“Thank you, Cenric, that’s very kind. Come on, love,” the man hummed, his reddish beard glinting brighter in the firelight as he lead the woman right to the chair and helped her to sit. “Now you just rest here, and I’ll see if I can find a blank—”
“Oh Thea. I'm glad the rains are holding off. It smells like spring outside now, doesn't it?”
“All I could smell was that stew through the whole of the city.”
“Try smelling it all day,” Grindan offered, flashing Gerlaf a wide, toothy grin. “I already got to sneak a bite at home. Probably because I looked so pitiful waiting.”
“It was for tonight,” Thea reminded him, and though her tone was quiet and nearly lost amongst the rest of the bustle of the room, her eyes glittered like stars to show her jest. Much of the woman existed in subtlety, but Grindan’s eyes sparkled in response.
Grindan smiled to Sunnifa in thanks, taking the blanket in hand, unfolding it and gracefully setting it across his wife’s small lap. “But it is starting to smell like spring. That means the garden will be coming in soon,” Grindan hummed, glittering green eyes warm and gentle upon his wife’s pale face. “The windows will look lively again.”
“And more vegetables in the market,” Thea added quietly with a small curl of her lip.
“Aye,” the man laughed, for a moment taking a hand to brush over the woman’s head and soft, silken hair. “Which might mean we have to bring the whole of the Eored to our house so we don’t drown in all that good food you’re going to make,” Grindan added in laughter. “Gerlaf, you and Drifa are welcome as always. Sunni, might want to wrangle those boys into helping us. I bet they’re endless pits these days!”
“It's Wynfled. I don't know why Bjarr insists on calling me that childhood trifle to everyone we meet. I'll save my mead until after the meal, of course.”
“Perhaps he likes it,” Adelais countered, her voice sugary in a forced way. She could not imagine what had happened to bring the two of them together; he did not seem so much a thorn, no matter the baby-ness of his face. “Suit yourself, though! It means more for us for now!”
“Adelais was it?”
“I'll bet you go by Addi. Unless we need call you by your full name.”
“What says she doesn't go by Laisa?”
“Oh, gentlemen, please,” she hummed larkishly with a bright eye. “Addi, Laisa...I’m not so high maintenance.” She gave Wynfeld a pointed look, though smirked and looked back up at the two brothers as the woman made a speedy retreat for the couch where she settled in beside her husband.
“I'll get that tray. You're a guest here too. Sit!”
“You’re a guest too,” she laughed faintly as Sunnifa swept in and took the tray from her. It was very apparent she did not mind. Before she had completely disappeared, though, Adelais grabbed a drink, replacing the mead she had already downed in the kitchen. Her cheeks felt warm and pleasant already, for she had not eaten in many hours. “Well, ordered to sit. She must not like my serving,” the woman jested with a smirk.
Oswin and Swithin immediately vied for her attention, and she sipped her drink and watched the antics as they beckoned her to join first one, then the other. For a moment a small voice, one that was nearly numbed by the sound, the cheery air of the home, and the drink in her blood, whispered to her. “Oh, Ads, it’s wonderful. Thank you.” For a moment, the woman grimaced behind her glass, and tipped the cup to drown more of the mead. That voice haunted her every day, even though it had been eight years and she could no longer recall what precisely he had sounded like. That always made it worse.
“What'll you have, brother? Mead? Or the brennevin? A mix?”
“Ah…I can't decide. Is it a good cask? Perhaps I'll give Runa's a taste.”
Before Runa could offer a single word, Ceolmund had taken her glass and tilted it, drowning the whole thing in one sitting. The men began to cheer and laugh, and Ceolmund’s face was positively glowing now. She had never seen him pull such a stunt, though perhaps the day Elin had tried burning down their house had come close. It had been a glass of straight brennevin then, though. Perhaps that was worse. She smirked up at him, taking the empty glass back in hand.
Sunnifa, though, looked flabbergasted.
“Ceol!”
“And how was that cask, Ceol?” Runa hummed pleasantly. She was thankful to have the drink gone.
“Nothing like a drink after a fine ride!”
That caused Runa to shoot her eyes to the young man, a slight lift of her brow matching with the faint pink color that took her cheek. A ride? Ceolmund had not been to the stables at all that day—he could not possibly mean…? Gerlaf, though, almost choked on his mead as he began to laugh, and her stomach slowly knotted as she realized the type her husband and she enjoyed together was in fact the type of ride Oswin was talking about. Quickly, she looked to Ceolmund.
“He's going to be a Father tomorrow! Let the man have some fun while he still can.”
“What?” Runa’s brain caught up with the words before she made the terrible mistake of assuming it was a different coming fatherhood that Gerlaf had meant. Still, the realization did not dawn before her stomach rolled, and the woman wondered for a moment if she should make a run for the basin she had kept by their bedside since Ceolmund had come home.
“From the sounds of it, he'll still have fun once the little one is tucked in.”
“Eorl’s flaming knickers,” Runa gasped under her breath, blue eyes wide in horror. From the sound of what? She looked to Ceolmund, silently wondering if he perhaps had a looser tongue with his Eored than she had before anticipated. “I-I-I--”
Thea herself became pink, and she looked to Grindan nervously, though the man was laughing himself, a hand squeezing her shoulder as he stood at her side. “Come now, Swithin,” he remarked. “Ceol works hard enough to be as entertained as he wishes.”
“Come now, it’s not just dear Ceolmund who works hard and deserves a release,” Adelais chimed, flicking her eyes to Runa with a glimmer of amusement, and hiding her smile behind her glass as she drank a bit more of the sweet honey-wine.
“I wouldn't mind being a Father someday.”
“Well you can mind it awhile longer.”
“I think you'd make a good Father, Bjarr.”
Adelais could hardly imagine Wynfeld as a mother. She probably would be averse to being called “Mama” or “Ma” and demand being called “Mother”. The thought amused her, and the young woman snorted a laugh as she turned her attention away.
“Well, I'm going to have a seat while we wait. There's an open seat here, Laisa.”
“Nonsense.”
“Hey! You're the one who usually ends up on the floor drunk!”
Runa gasped, and took a step toward the mess helplessly, watching, mouth agape, as Swithin and Oswin laughed and pulled themselves up and continued to ask Adelais to sit. Her heart seemed to seize. She had known Oswin and Swithin to be the liveliest of the group, even while they had worked. They were young bachelors, and more rambunctious than Ceolmund had ever been when he had sported such a title. She worried a moment that their presence was going to make matters worse with Adelais. Runa did not know what mead she was on—it was at least her second—but the woman’s cheek was already glowing pink, and her eyes seemed to dance wilder. “Are you all right?” Runa asked quickly. “I’ll get something to clean it up—”
Ceolmund, though, had already ducked to the kitchen, so Runa stood helplessly where she was wondering if the night was going to prove to be such a disaster all evening.
“Boys, boys!” Adelais remarked with a laugh as Swithin tried to right himself, and the mead sloshed over the floor. “There’s no need to fight over me. I have two sides.” She slid her way forward and slid upon the stool between them. “Now, see? We can behave.” Her eyes were glittering. Perhaps she was not so behaved as she implied.
Runa had another mug of mead pressed into her hand by Sunni, and she had never in all her life wanted to drink something more than in that moment. Her nerves felt like they were strung so tight they were humming within her. She forced a smile and nodded to her. “Thank you,” she said to her, lifting the mead as if to drink it, though as soon as Sunni’s attention flitted elsewhere she lowered it again without a single sip. She could feel eyes on her, and slowly she turned her attention to Wynfeld, finding her icy stare immediately. Runa tried to offer a smile, but found instead that the woman was not keen on returning it. Ceolmund was returning from the kitchen, a towel in hand, and the woman quickly intercepted him.
“Ceol, this is going to be a disaster,” she whispered to him urgently, placing her mead glass into his hand and plucking the cloth from his. “I’ll take care of the spill. Just…drink that for me?” She murmured, turning. “Are you all right, Swithin?” She asked with a small smile.
“And he’s not even drunk yet,” Adelais remarked with a laugh. “You know some fun characters, Ceolmund!”
"Poor Runa's been cleaning up after us all week!" Grindan laughed. "I know Thea would've been cooking for us if she could carry the pot over herself."
"Oh," Runa said over her shoulder, smiling at Grindan and Thea as she knelt upon the floor to scrub. "It was no trouble. I should thank you for all the work everyone did. Paega will be very excited to have her own room again, I think." She supposed it was close staying in her own old room at her parents' house, though it had been months now that the little girl had not had a place to call hers, or a family that she could call her own. She and Ceolmund would get to tell her the news tomorrow. Runa hoped the girl would be excited; she did not know what she would do if the girl was somehow unhappy.
She had called her "Mama", and Ceolmund "Papa"; yet, perhaps things would be scarier when it was official. Runa had grown more concerned the closer the room had gotten to being finished, and though she had not mentioned it to her husband, she had been lifting prayers to Bema every night that the transition would go smoothly for her. Paega had seen enough trouble.