Unwanted Presents (September 2982) - [Ceolmund] (CW)
Jan 3, 2018 19:52:31 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Jan 3, 2018 19:52:31 GMT -5
(Content warning: child abuse)
Runa’s golden hair peeked in waves from under the light hat Hildred had put upon her head to help stave off the fall winds that were whipping down into the valley from the mountains, and the little girl giggled, clapping her chubby hands together happily as Hildred gathered up the little wooden sword in hand.
The woman smiled to her daughter. “You like the sword, do you?” She hummed. “It’s for your Ceol. I bet you don’t remember him now—but hopefully you will soon,” Hildred hummed to her lightly, tapping the little girl’s nose. Runa’s eyes were wide and bright; it was as if she knew today was special.
And it was.
On the other side of the city, in a little house where Hildred knew she was not welcome, there were two amazing children she loved like her own, and it was their Name Day.
“Here’s the doll, Mama,” Beorhtric said, extending his hand out with the gift clutched in his palm. “I can hold it until we get there, if you want,” he offered.
Hildred smiled at him, kissing his forehead before he had time to protest and smiled with accomplishment as his brow fell faintly into a frown. “Thank you, Beorhtric,” she said. “I’ll get the basket of mug cakes, the sword…”
Runa squealed, reaching her hands up and clutching and unclutching her fingers eagerly.
Hildred laughed. “And Runa,” she added pointedly, stooping to sweep the girl up into her arms. “Then we can go give Ceol and Sunni their presents!”
It had been a long time since they had seen either of them, an Beorhtric knew that his mother often still had evenings where she cried over it. It seemed to be that his parents were worried, stuck upon the events that had happened when Runa had been born. His mother was hurting, he knew; but whenever she was out, around anyone other than Amalric, her smile seemed bright enough to fool those who did not know her.
But he could see the wound, and he knew his father did as well. He had heard him express concern to Grandmother Ishild over it not but a few weeks past. He wanted to help, but Beorhtric did not know what to do.
Instead, he reached for the wooden sword, taking that into his other hand. “I’ve got it, Mama,” he said as she finished adjusting Runa in her arms and hoisting the basket of baked goods into hand as well.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go!” Her voice light as her steps, the family of three slipped out onto the street and turned to head for a home across the city.
--
There it was. The place was quaint enough, though Hildred hated the sight of the building more than anything else in Arda. For a moment, she grimaced, but mindful of her son beside her, wiped it away just as quickly. There was smoke coming from the chimney; someone was home. Likely the witch, she reasoned. Ceorl was probably running that shop of his, neither minding nor caring that his children were to celebrate their Name Day today and should be able to do so free from the wretch who had stolen them back.
“Stand back here,” Hildred cautioned her son. While Elin had not touched her son yet, Hildred still had nightmares hearing the threat the monster had laid over Ceolmund the last time she was under her own roof and knew she could not trust her fully. She would have left Runa with him, though the baby could not be so easily left paces from the doorstep.
Two quick raps upon the door announced her presence, and she stood, waiting, praying she would be able to give Ceolmund and Sunnifa a hug at the very most, but knowing more than likely the sword and doll would need suffice.
Runa’s golden hair peeked in waves from under the light hat Hildred had put upon her head to help stave off the fall winds that were whipping down into the valley from the mountains, and the little girl giggled, clapping her chubby hands together happily as Hildred gathered up the little wooden sword in hand.
The woman smiled to her daughter. “You like the sword, do you?” She hummed. “It’s for your Ceol. I bet you don’t remember him now—but hopefully you will soon,” Hildred hummed to her lightly, tapping the little girl’s nose. Runa’s eyes were wide and bright; it was as if she knew today was special.
And it was.
On the other side of the city, in a little house where Hildred knew she was not welcome, there were two amazing children she loved like her own, and it was their Name Day.
“Here’s the doll, Mama,” Beorhtric said, extending his hand out with the gift clutched in his palm. “I can hold it until we get there, if you want,” he offered.
Hildred smiled at him, kissing his forehead before he had time to protest and smiled with accomplishment as his brow fell faintly into a frown. “Thank you, Beorhtric,” she said. “I’ll get the basket of mug cakes, the sword…”
Runa squealed, reaching her hands up and clutching and unclutching her fingers eagerly.
Hildred laughed. “And Runa,” she added pointedly, stooping to sweep the girl up into her arms. “Then we can go give Ceol and Sunni their presents!”
It had been a long time since they had seen either of them, an Beorhtric knew that his mother often still had evenings where she cried over it. It seemed to be that his parents were worried, stuck upon the events that had happened when Runa had been born. His mother was hurting, he knew; but whenever she was out, around anyone other than Amalric, her smile seemed bright enough to fool those who did not know her.
But he could see the wound, and he knew his father did as well. He had heard him express concern to Grandmother Ishild over it not but a few weeks past. He wanted to help, but Beorhtric did not know what to do.
Instead, he reached for the wooden sword, taking that into his other hand. “I’ve got it, Mama,” he said as she finished adjusting Runa in her arms and hoisting the basket of baked goods into hand as well.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go!” Her voice light as her steps, the family of three slipped out onto the street and turned to head for a home across the city.
--
There it was. The place was quaint enough, though Hildred hated the sight of the building more than anything else in Arda. For a moment, she grimaced, but mindful of her son beside her, wiped it away just as quickly. There was smoke coming from the chimney; someone was home. Likely the witch, she reasoned. Ceorl was probably running that shop of his, neither minding nor caring that his children were to celebrate their Name Day today and should be able to do so free from the wretch who had stolen them back.
“Stand back here,” Hildred cautioned her son. While Elin had not touched her son yet, Hildred still had nightmares hearing the threat the monster had laid over Ceolmund the last time she was under her own roof and knew she could not trust her fully. She would have left Runa with him, though the baby could not be so easily left paces from the doorstep.
Two quick raps upon the door announced her presence, and she stood, waiting, praying she would be able to give Ceolmund and Sunnifa a hug at the very most, but knowing more than likely the sword and doll would need suffice.