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Undómë · 03-02-2006, 10:54 PM

Bregoware

Meghan

‘Better to make the right decision now, before the river is crossed, before you become nothing more than a liability.’ She voiced the words aloud, letting them hang in the air before her. Ash turned her head to the side, fixing an eye on Meghan. The mare’s ears swiveled backward, as if awaiting further instruction.

Of a sudden, an old voice echoed in the back of the woman’s thoughts. A plaintive and rather peevish voice. And with it she could just see a wrinkled old finger being shook right in her face. It was her mother’s mother . . . Gammer Bernia. And didn’t her name fit her! “Battle Maiden”!

The wizened old granny was the one who’d named her Meghan. And she never let the young girl forget the meaning of it. ‘We’re strong’uns, us daughters of old Freya. And so I named you . . . “Strong and Capable”. In you runs the blood of Freya, herself, and wasn’t she such a queen of power and glory that even the old gods bowed down before her when her step trembled on the earth!’

Meghan could see her bent over, her back bowed from her many years. And in her mind’s eye the old woman leaned on her twisted yew-wood cane and clucked her tongue at the cowardly thoughts of her granddaughter. ‘Put a little starch in that backbone, missy. You’ll be needed somewhere down the line. Be patient and be ready.’

The old woman snorted and seemed to cock her head toward the knot of men who rode at the head of the group. ‘Showy birds, ain’t they? Useful themselves, at times.’ She turned her head back to Meghan, fixing her with her clouded blue eyes. ‘Just you remember . . . just cuz they got some extra equipment on ‘em don’t make ‘em one whit better or smarter than you.’

Meghan could hear the old lady cackling uproariously at her own wit. And she could not help but laugh herself, though a crimson stain spread up her neck and cross her cheeks at her Gammer’s bawdy comment.

The voice faded in her thoughts, still laughing. And there were faint words that trailed behind.

‘Well . . . g’wan! Get goin’, girl!’

And as if she had heard them herself and taken them as a command, Ash leapt forward, carrying Meghan back to the odd assemblage of fated riders.

03-02-2006, 10:54 PM	#144
Undómë Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Mar 2005 Posts: 400	Bregoware Meghan ‘Better to make the right decision now, before the river is crossed, before you become nothing more than a liability.’ She voiced the words aloud, letting them hang in the air before her. Ash turned her head to the side, fixing an eye on Meghan. The mare’s ears swiveled backward, as if awaiting further instruction. Of a sudden, an old voice echoed in the back of the woman’s thoughts. A plaintive and rather peevish voice. And with it she could just see a wrinkled old finger being shook right in her face. It was her mother’s mother . . . Gammer Bernia. And didn’t her name fit her! “Battle Maiden”! The wizened old granny was the one who’d named her Meghan. And she never let the young girl forget the meaning of it. ‘We’re strong’uns, us daughters of old Freya. And so I named you . . . “Strong and Capable”. In you runs the blood of Freya, herself, and wasn’t she such a queen of power and glory that even the old gods bowed down before her when her step trembled on the earth!’ Meghan could see her bent over, her back bowed from her many years. And in her mind’s eye the old woman leaned on her twisted yew-wood cane and clucked her tongue at the cowardly thoughts of her granddaughter. ‘Put a little starch in that backbone, missy. You’ll be needed somewhere down the line. Be patient and be ready.’ The old woman snorted and seemed to cock her head toward the knot of men who rode at the head of the group. ‘Showy birds, ain’t they? Useful themselves, at times.’ She turned her head back to Meghan, fixing her with her clouded blue eyes. ‘Just you remember . . . just cuz they got some extra equipment on ‘em don’t make ‘em one whit better or smarter than you.’ Meghan could hear the old lady cackling uproariously at her own wit. And she could not help but laugh herself, though a crimson stain spread up her neck and cross her cheeks at her Gammer’s bawdy comment. The voice faded in her thoughts, still laughing. And there were faint words that trailed behind. ‘Well . . . g’wan! Get goin’, girl!’ And as if she had heard them herself and taken them as a command, Ash leapt forward, carrying Meghan back to the odd assemblage of fated riders.