One Little Sparrow for the Nest {March 3010} [Runa]
Apr 19, 2018 12:30:08 GMT -5
Post by Ceolmund on Apr 19, 2018 12:30:08 GMT -5
“Well, one stallion certainly does…”
“Ooooh. Which stawion, Mama Wuna?”
Ceolmund caught Runa's look, and combined with Paega's question, he responded with a single laugh, his hand brushing discreetly down Runa's side as she stuttered no reply, and he settled the horse back upon the earlier grazing grounds.
Which stallion was quite apparent to Ceolmund. The only. And even as Runa moved from his lap he made it quite apparent that she was his mare. Runa chided him, and he did not even care. He had cared and worried and fretted over touching that sweet woman for years, and now she was his, both body and soul. She loved his touches; he could tell without a word. Despite her chastisement, her had felt the heat beneath her skin when she had kissed him, and he knew the frenzied way she would have discarded garment had they been alone.
If the whole of Edoras knew it, it would be all for the better. But foremost, his family would know it. Her family would know it. Beorhtric would know it.
“Papa Coleymond! You gwabbed Mama Wuna’s sittew seat! Youw not supposed to touch peoples’ sittew seats!”
“Did he, now?”
“Don’t wowwy, I towld him it’s not nice.”
“Don't worry, little one,” Ceolmund shifted. “Mama Runa thinks it's very nice.”
He lay back, being tended to as well as a three year old could tend to another. She was already taking after Runa, after Hildred. Paega belonged. Not that any child Runa had found needing home could not have come to them… but Paega fit. She was a small healer; a tiny shieldmaiden in her own right, and Ceolmund would be glad to raise her alongside Runa. They would do well by her. Runa would do well. He could not draw his thoughts from his wife, even as she returned to the room.
“No, no, no, Papa Coleymond! No going up hew dwess!”
“Papas can do that to Mamas,” Ceolmund answered. “She likes it.”
He heard the groaning of Beorhtric, and if it were not for the pounding in his head he'd have thought to say more. Much more. To do more. That man whom he had once called brother would never stand between them again; nor would he temper his affections for his Runa in front of him. She would have everything she desired; and more. He sighed.
“Oh no. Papa Coleymond is contagiousing.”
“Oh, no, little sparrow. Papa Ceol isn’t contagious.”
“It's just a headache,” he answered, staring at Runa's feet before him; he could see the hem of her dress hovering above the floor, he skin of her ankles. The slender ankles, and the curve of her calf. He almost groaned, and not for the headache, but simply in his desire to have her near and…
His thoughts left him with a dripping in his eye; the damp cloth being squished and squeezed over his face, scrubbing at his skin, his beard, his forehead, and about everywhere else it could reach. He closed his eyes again; chuckling to himself. He could feel the pain in his head; throbbing, pounding. But it was hardly able to take away his joy.
“Ooooh. Which stawion, Mama Wuna?”
Ceolmund caught Runa's look, and combined with Paega's question, he responded with a single laugh, his hand brushing discreetly down Runa's side as she stuttered no reply, and he settled the horse back upon the earlier grazing grounds.
Which stallion was quite apparent to Ceolmund. The only. And even as Runa moved from his lap he made it quite apparent that she was his mare. Runa chided him, and he did not even care. He had cared and worried and fretted over touching that sweet woman for years, and now she was his, both body and soul. She loved his touches; he could tell without a word. Despite her chastisement, her had felt the heat beneath her skin when she had kissed him, and he knew the frenzied way she would have discarded garment had they been alone.
If the whole of Edoras knew it, it would be all for the better. But foremost, his family would know it. Her family would know it. Beorhtric would know it.
“Papa Coleymond! You gwabbed Mama Wuna’s sittew seat! Youw not supposed to touch peoples’ sittew seats!”
“Did he, now?”
“Don’t wowwy, I towld him it’s not nice.”
“Don't worry, little one,” Ceolmund shifted. “Mama Runa thinks it's very nice.”
He lay back, being tended to as well as a three year old could tend to another. She was already taking after Runa, after Hildred. Paega belonged. Not that any child Runa had found needing home could not have come to them… but Paega fit. She was a small healer; a tiny shieldmaiden in her own right, and Ceolmund would be glad to raise her alongside Runa. They would do well by her. Runa would do well. He could not draw his thoughts from his wife, even as she returned to the room.
“No, no, no, Papa Coleymond! No going up hew dwess!”
“Papas can do that to Mamas,” Ceolmund answered. “She likes it.”
He heard the groaning of Beorhtric, and if it were not for the pounding in his head he'd have thought to say more. Much more. To do more. That man whom he had once called brother would never stand between them again; nor would he temper his affections for his Runa in front of him. She would have everything she desired; and more. He sighed.
“Oh no. Papa Coleymond is contagiousing.”
“Oh, no, little sparrow. Papa Ceol isn’t contagious.”
“It's just a headache,” he answered, staring at Runa's feet before him; he could see the hem of her dress hovering above the floor, he skin of her ankles. The slender ankles, and the curve of her calf. He almost groaned, and not for the headache, but simply in his desire to have her near and…
His thoughts left him with a dripping in his eye; the damp cloth being squished and squeezed over his face, scrubbing at his skin, his beard, his forehead, and about everywhere else it could reach. He closed his eyes again; chuckling to himself. He could feel the pain in his head; throbbing, pounding. But it was hardly able to take away his joy.