Heard it on the Wind
Oct 9, 2018 21:44:50 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Oct 9, 2018 21:44:50 GMT -5
Beorhtric felt his shoulders pinch, the strange tightness in his spine becoming even greater with Ceolmund’s words. He put it there. It was a direct way to speak of it, and the forthright declaration hanged odd in the air. Bear swallowed, managing only a moment to tear his eyes away from his sister’s abdomen to mark the captain. For a breath he saw him not as the man of the Eored he had long been, but as the young boy with a stutter, his arm in a sling and Runa beside him as the girl with the lopsided braids, bouncing as she spoke and gripped at Ceolmund’s hand with her small fingers.
A baby. Ceolmund put a child in…
“That you did. Job well done, Captain,” Grindan laughed with a dance to his eye.
Bear felt queasy, looking back to Runa with sorrowful eyes. “Runi,” he started, his voice breaking and low. Ceolmund, though, spoke before he could get any words to form.
“Nobody will speak of Athelstan in this house. Nor Elin. Thank you Grindan, we are glad for our little one. Both of them. And give our thanks to Thea. Ginger has been a fair help to Runa… with her… condition.”
Grindan laughed, hearing the word the captain used to describe his wife’s state, though handed the stewpot off with little trouble. “I’ll tell her,” the man offered blithely, already turning and beginning to head for the doorway once more. It was only a stride before he was there, hand upon the jamb. “I should tell you Thea is very excited about your wife’s condition,” the man offered back, hardly able to keep the laughter from his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.” And with that, the man was slipped out the door.
“You may wait for your parents to arrive from the couch, Beorhtric.”
“Hm, what? Oh,” Beorhtric startled from through, eyes lifting once more away from Runa’s stomach. “Yes. Right. Of course.” Still, the man could not will his boots to move, and his eyes pulled once more to look upon his sister.
Runa was frowning at him, the knit of her brow concerned as she tugged on the linen of her apron. “Bear, are you all right?” She asked quietly.
Bear did not know how to answer.
“Runa? The bread.”
“Eorl’s flaming knickers!” Runa gasped, turning and picking a quick pace back into the kitchen. Ceolmund was already there, stirring the potatoes, and she quickly looked at the risen dough rounds and swept them up to get into the oven. There was an air of frenzy to the motion, and it seemed her husband noticed.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
Runa looked to him, brow furrowed. Yet, the longer she looked upon his face, saw the sincerity in her husband’s eyes, she let loose the breath of air she had been holding. “I know,” she forced herself to say. Perhaps on some level, she knew it. Still, the walls seemed tighter than usual—it was Béma’s gift that she had a husband with such strong arms to keep them from closing in.
“You do not mind if I have a drink? I suppose we need no longer hide why you cannot.”
Runa’s lips almost found a smile, and she wiped her hands once more on the front of her apron, pacing the few steps to cross to him. “I don’t mind. You can even drink something for me,” she said to him quietly, climbing to her toes near his shoulder. “Just eat something, too?” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to slip back to the prep of the food.
She had not even heard the door swing open. “Where is that daughter of mine?” A pleasant rumble sounded as it opened.
“Gwampa Amawic!” Paega trilled from the other room.
Runa gasped, turning. “Papa!” The man was already rounding the corner, his broad face crinkled in the largest grin the man had ever seen.
“There she is!” His hands came upon her, then his arms; as she was pulled against his chest, Runa could feel the air forced from her lungs. “My little girl! Haha!” He twirled her, setting her back upon the ground and holding her steady so the healer could not sway upon her feet.
“It’s good to see you too, Papa. Dinner’s almost ready—”
Amalric though, did not seem to hear her, and instead turned to look to Ceolmund. “You didn’t waste any time, did you, son? You know you just made Hildred’s night! All of her nights!” He clapped a hand upon the man’s shoulder before pulling him in for a hug himself. “We knew it’d be before the end of the year, but already!”
A baby. Ceolmund put a child in…
“That you did. Job well done, Captain,” Grindan laughed with a dance to his eye.
Bear felt queasy, looking back to Runa with sorrowful eyes. “Runi,” he started, his voice breaking and low. Ceolmund, though, spoke before he could get any words to form.
“Nobody will speak of Athelstan in this house. Nor Elin. Thank you Grindan, we are glad for our little one. Both of them. And give our thanks to Thea. Ginger has been a fair help to Runa… with her… condition.”
Grindan laughed, hearing the word the captain used to describe his wife’s state, though handed the stewpot off with little trouble. “I’ll tell her,” the man offered blithely, already turning and beginning to head for the doorway once more. It was only a stride before he was there, hand upon the jamb. “I should tell you Thea is very excited about your wife’s condition,” the man offered back, hardly able to keep the laughter from his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.” And with that, the man was slipped out the door.
“You may wait for your parents to arrive from the couch, Beorhtric.”
“Hm, what? Oh,” Beorhtric startled from through, eyes lifting once more away from Runa’s stomach. “Yes. Right. Of course.” Still, the man could not will his boots to move, and his eyes pulled once more to look upon his sister.
Runa was frowning at him, the knit of her brow concerned as she tugged on the linen of her apron. “Bear, are you all right?” She asked quietly.
Bear did not know how to answer.
“Runa? The bread.”
“Eorl’s flaming knickers!” Runa gasped, turning and picking a quick pace back into the kitchen. Ceolmund was already there, stirring the potatoes, and she quickly looked at the risen dough rounds and swept them up to get into the oven. There was an air of frenzy to the motion, and it seemed her husband noticed.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
Runa looked to him, brow furrowed. Yet, the longer she looked upon his face, saw the sincerity in her husband’s eyes, she let loose the breath of air she had been holding. “I know,” she forced herself to say. Perhaps on some level, she knew it. Still, the walls seemed tighter than usual—it was Béma’s gift that she had a husband with such strong arms to keep them from closing in.
“You do not mind if I have a drink? I suppose we need no longer hide why you cannot.”
Runa’s lips almost found a smile, and she wiped her hands once more on the front of her apron, pacing the few steps to cross to him. “I don’t mind. You can even drink something for me,” she said to him quietly, climbing to her toes near his shoulder. “Just eat something, too?” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to slip back to the prep of the food.
She had not even heard the door swing open. “Where is that daughter of mine?” A pleasant rumble sounded as it opened.
“Gwampa Amawic!” Paega trilled from the other room.
Runa gasped, turning. “Papa!” The man was already rounding the corner, his broad face crinkled in the largest grin the man had ever seen.
“There she is!” His hands came upon her, then his arms; as she was pulled against his chest, Runa could feel the air forced from her lungs. “My little girl! Haha!” He twirled her, setting her back upon the ground and holding her steady so the healer could not sway upon her feet.
“It’s good to see you too, Papa. Dinner’s almost ready—”
Amalric though, did not seem to hear her, and instead turned to look to Ceolmund. “You didn’t waste any time, did you, son? You know you just made Hildred’s night! All of her nights!” He clapped a hand upon the man’s shoulder before pulling him in for a hug himself. “We knew it’d be before the end of the year, but already!”