Half an Apple (March 3010) {Runa}
Dec 29, 2017 12:16:14 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Dec 29, 2017 12:16:14 GMT -5
Runa would have been content to neither see nor hear from Ulfrekr again. It was no wonder the man had never been selected for higher promotion than a supervisory stable hand, nor indeed been plucked for service in the Eored, like Bear had been. His mouth simply would not stop, even when nothing but messes came out.
“Captain! Are…are you sure you should be--? Well, you know. If she’s ill? It would be a shame for you to take sick too, what with your muster next week.”
“No, he shouldn’t. The last thing we need is something sweeping through the men—Runi, are you ill? Should I get you to Mother?”
Eorl’s flaming knickers. Runa felt a strained sigh catch behind pursed lips. Truly, the last thing she wanted was Ulfrekr going on about her being ill. Surely if enough of the keener folk about heard, it would not take long for them to decide it was tied to a growing family. And while she loved her brother dearly, their meetings had been strained since he blazed into their home to strike at Ceolmund beneath his own roof.
Little more than pleasantries had been passed between them, and those were neither warm nor enjoyable.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, her tone almost dismissive. She could see him watching her, as if trying to decipher what, precisely she was doing there. It was her husband, however that made her cheek stain dark.
“I'm sure if there is something catching going around, I've probably caught it already… this morning… last night… yesterday morning… could have been any time. Once you are happily married you'll realize how these things spread.”
Ceolmund’s arm was still tight around her, and she glanced up to him with a look of disbelief. While she knew he and her brother were not on good terms, she had not thought for a moment that he would be so brazen in his jeers. There was, truly, no other reason to be speaking in such a way—it was no secret to either of them Beorhtric was not over fond of visual displays of affection.
Indeed, Bear’s face was paling, and his lip turned downward in a grimace. The man shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the visions such talk conjured; he almost gagged. The captain had certainly touched his sister by now; he was touching him there, right before him, with hands that had no business ever being able to know Runa in the fashion Bear knew now the captain did.
His cool eye slid to the extended bucket, though. “If my sister needs a pail, she is ill,” he said quietly. Beorhtric’s brow furrowed faintly, and he looked back to his sister. “Runi, come. Let’s get you looked at.”
Before she could answer, Runa was cut off by her husband. Once more she was surprised, for Ceolmund was often slow to speak. Whatever offense her brother had given him had certainly settled in deep. Perhaps she should try and help settle between the two of them herself; it was ridiculous the amount of tension she could feel in the air, compounded by Ulfrekr’s presence.
“I have plans with my wife this afternoon, Beorhtric. Going for a ride... or two. We'll see Mum in a few hours. If you'll excuse us, we're in a hurry. We have things to get to at home after this before she brings Paega back. Ulfrekr… why don't you go get some fresh water... I'm sure Tait would like a drink when we're done.”
“Runi,” Bear pressed, voice low, almost incredulous. “You’re…you’re going to ride her?”
“Yes,” she answered, trying to sound assured. Well, maybe she was going to ride Tait. Tait may just as soon murder her. But, it was certainly going to be death with intent of trying to ride her.
Her brother looked astounded, and looked to Ceolmund quickly. He could not fathom how the man was able to even have Runa there, standing so close.
Ulfrekr certainly thought he understood Beorhtric’s hesitation, and nodded with a lifted brow, showing his agreement to the man’s incredulousness. “I was remarking myself on how dangerous that particular one is,” he offered, as if such talk was in the least way helpful.
Runa did not have time to shudder, for Ceolmund was whisking her away. Her heart was pounding, but she was obediently following Ceolmund’s prompts. He took her straight to the fence, motioning to the top slat.
“Well, better go get that water,” Ulfrekr grinned, excusing himself, but leaving the bucket with Beorhtric before he left. The man took it absently, watching instead his sister as she followed Ceolmund toward the corral’s fence. This was closer than he had ever managed to get her; this was more than he had been able to calm her in all the years he tried. Perhaps…
“Now, what we're going to do here… I want you to climb up on that fence, and swing your legs over, sit on the top and wait for me. I will mount, bring her around, and we'll put you right into my arms again. Right where you belong.”
No. No, the man was no different than he suspected.
Runa, though, looked up to him. “All right,” she said quietly. For a moment, she glanced to the obsidian mare, tromping her hooves impatiently, then to the fencing she was going to set herself upon.
She could do this for Ceolmund; she could do this for her husband, who wanted this so badly. She would be fine so long as he was there, after all. Or, so she tried to tell herself as Runa reached and climbed her way up the slats of the fence to seat herself as directed. Her knuckles, though, were white upon the wood about her hips.
“Captain! Are…are you sure you should be--? Well, you know. If she’s ill? It would be a shame for you to take sick too, what with your muster next week.”
“No, he shouldn’t. The last thing we need is something sweeping through the men—Runi, are you ill? Should I get you to Mother?”
Eorl’s flaming knickers. Runa felt a strained sigh catch behind pursed lips. Truly, the last thing she wanted was Ulfrekr going on about her being ill. Surely if enough of the keener folk about heard, it would not take long for them to decide it was tied to a growing family. And while she loved her brother dearly, their meetings had been strained since he blazed into their home to strike at Ceolmund beneath his own roof.
Little more than pleasantries had been passed between them, and those were neither warm nor enjoyable.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, her tone almost dismissive. She could see him watching her, as if trying to decipher what, precisely she was doing there. It was her husband, however that made her cheek stain dark.
“I'm sure if there is something catching going around, I've probably caught it already… this morning… last night… yesterday morning… could have been any time. Once you are happily married you'll realize how these things spread.”
Ceolmund’s arm was still tight around her, and she glanced up to him with a look of disbelief. While she knew he and her brother were not on good terms, she had not thought for a moment that he would be so brazen in his jeers. There was, truly, no other reason to be speaking in such a way—it was no secret to either of them Beorhtric was not over fond of visual displays of affection.
Indeed, Bear’s face was paling, and his lip turned downward in a grimace. The man shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the visions such talk conjured; he almost gagged. The captain had certainly touched his sister by now; he was touching him there, right before him, with hands that had no business ever being able to know Runa in the fashion Bear knew now the captain did.
His cool eye slid to the extended bucket, though. “If my sister needs a pail, she is ill,” he said quietly. Beorhtric’s brow furrowed faintly, and he looked back to his sister. “Runi, come. Let’s get you looked at.”
Before she could answer, Runa was cut off by her husband. Once more she was surprised, for Ceolmund was often slow to speak. Whatever offense her brother had given him had certainly settled in deep. Perhaps she should try and help settle between the two of them herself; it was ridiculous the amount of tension she could feel in the air, compounded by Ulfrekr’s presence.
“I have plans with my wife this afternoon, Beorhtric. Going for a ride... or two. We'll see Mum in a few hours. If you'll excuse us, we're in a hurry. We have things to get to at home after this before she brings Paega back. Ulfrekr… why don't you go get some fresh water... I'm sure Tait would like a drink when we're done.”
“Runi,” Bear pressed, voice low, almost incredulous. “You’re…you’re going to ride her?”
“Yes,” she answered, trying to sound assured. Well, maybe she was going to ride Tait. Tait may just as soon murder her. But, it was certainly going to be death with intent of trying to ride her.
Her brother looked astounded, and looked to Ceolmund quickly. He could not fathom how the man was able to even have Runa there, standing so close.
Ulfrekr certainly thought he understood Beorhtric’s hesitation, and nodded with a lifted brow, showing his agreement to the man’s incredulousness. “I was remarking myself on how dangerous that particular one is,” he offered, as if such talk was in the least way helpful.
Runa did not have time to shudder, for Ceolmund was whisking her away. Her heart was pounding, but she was obediently following Ceolmund’s prompts. He took her straight to the fence, motioning to the top slat.
“Well, better go get that water,” Ulfrekr grinned, excusing himself, but leaving the bucket with Beorhtric before he left. The man took it absently, watching instead his sister as she followed Ceolmund toward the corral’s fence. This was closer than he had ever managed to get her; this was more than he had been able to calm her in all the years he tried. Perhaps…
“Now, what we're going to do here… I want you to climb up on that fence, and swing your legs over, sit on the top and wait for me. I will mount, bring her around, and we'll put you right into my arms again. Right where you belong.”
No. No, the man was no different than he suspected.
Runa, though, looked up to him. “All right,” she said quietly. For a moment, she glanced to the obsidian mare, tromping her hooves impatiently, then to the fencing she was going to set herself upon.
She could do this for Ceolmund; she could do this for her husband, who wanted this so badly. She would be fine so long as he was there, after all. Or, so she tried to tell herself as Runa reached and climbed her way up the slats of the fence to seat herself as directed. Her knuckles, though, were white upon the wood about her hips.