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Old 03-08-2008, 10:44 PM   #238
piosenniel
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
 
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At Dag's House

‘Jóra!’ Káta admonished her daughter. A rumble of deep laughter broke the tension between mother and daughter; between suitor and sought. Dag patted his wife on her hand and stepped forward shaking his head, his eyes twinkled, remembering himself as a young man.

‘Come, Fálki,’ he began, stepping close to the younger man. ‘I’ll say no disrespect was taken.’ ‘Now,’ he went on, ‘let me hear you speak to Mem and let me hear her answer.’

(a little later.....)

‘So this is what it will be like when my little one is grown,’ Dag thought to himself. He stood, leaning against the wall, surveying the little party scattered about the room. Mem looked happy and somehow less childlike. Fálki, aware of Dag’s scrutiny, restrained himself from touching Mem, though his eyes found her face constantly.

The women twittered about, like a group of little birds. Gunna had made tea and from the basket Káta had brought, the sweet buns were passed round along with the jams Granny’d made.

Dag caught Gunna’s eye, motioning for her to come close. ‘This is going to work out, yes? I can’t help but feel there is something dark waiting to crush what happiness any of us might find.’ He shook his head as she whispered some reassuring words to him. ‘Never mind my gloomy thoughts. Too much time spent looking into the heart of the forge fire, I suppose.’

‘Listen,’ Dag said, speaking to the others in the room. ‘We should have a little celebration. Tomorrow. How would that be?’ Gunna nodded, happily surprised at his declaration. ‘Grímr can come, yes? And your brother, Falarr, is it? And the young boy.....’ He looked questioningly at Gunna. ‘Valr,’ she prompted him.

Plans were discussed and set for the following late afternoon, with Káta promising they would all be there. She and her family took their leave of Dag and his soon after and made their way back home.


----------------------------------------------------


Leaving the Hunt

Excited as he’d been to be at the hunt with his father and brother, that excitement had now quelled. Valr could not shake the feeling of tenseness that permeated the supposed festive gathering. He could not understand what was going on beneath the conversations and claps on the back and toothy smiles. He kept quiet, focused on his father’s reactions to those of the hunters who came up to speak. This grown up stuff was not all he’d thought it would be. At least not today, not here, it wasn’t. He was happy when his father said they were heading home.

Grímr smiled and nodded to his acquaintances as he and his sons rode toward the outskirts of the hunting group. At times he stopped altogether making small talk with someone he knew well. Once beyond the edge of hunting party, he stopped, motioning Falarr and Valr to draw up close. ‘You both did well today.’ He urged his mount to a little faster pace. ‘And I know you must have questions.’ I know I do he thought to himself. ‘Let’s get home and see what the ladies have made for our supper. We’ll speak of the hunt later.’ And within our own walls.....

His horse broke into a run with a flick of the reins. Valr and Falarr raced after him, grinning. Valr let the wind from their quick pace blow away his sense of unease. He laughed aloud, sharing his joke with his his horse. ‘He called her a “lady”!’ he cried, laughing again at the thought of his crazy little sister as a “lady”.

Last edited by piosenniel; 06-03-2008 at 12:15 AM.
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