Hard Winters RPG

[Folwren]

Saeryn laughed, surprised at the question. "Heavens, no!" she said. "There was no one to arrange a marriage between us!" She laughed again, and her expression grew a little distant as she recalled to mind the time before their marriage. "We loved each other," she said. She looked back at Cerwyn. "That's why we married."

Saeryn looked at her, wondering what her thoughts were. "Is that really why you came here, Cerwyn?" she asked. "To get away from your father? Were you afraid he would decide for you one day and force you into a marriage?"

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn, surprised at Saeryn’s response and embarrassed now about her question, was relieved that Saeryn did not seem offended. At the same time, she found herself slightly disappointed that her guess was wrong; Saeryn seemed so understanding.

“I am afraid of that, yes,” said Cerwyn, “and I hoped that somehow Léof could help. Maybe that sounds silly… Léof already told me he doesn’t know what I thought he could do. I’ve never left my village before, so when Father said I could go to Edoras, I knew that I had to try and find Léof. I didn’t know if I’d ever have the chance to get so close again.”

[Folwren]

Saeryn nodded, understanding. She reached out and touched the girl's shoulder companionably. "I will speak to Eodwine of your matter, if you wish, and we will see if we can help you. Until then, and at least until the rains have passed, you will stay here with us. Would you like that?"

--

Eoghan and Ruari

The children were not required to stay during the court proceedings. They wandered in and out of the hall, checking to see how things were going, and wondering how soon all the grownups would be done with their dull goings-on, and when they would turn their attention to more important things, like preparing the next meal. Normally, it was not as extremely dull as today. It was common for the children to spend the hours outside, but today, the rain poured incessantly, and it was too cold to withstand the wet. So the children were forced to remain inside.

They amused themselves for a while by walking through all the rooms of the house. They found Wilhearrd lying quiet and still on his bed. Eoghan and Ruari stood for a moment contemplating him. Then Ruari said to Eoghan he must be feeling very ill, if he was not moving at all, and Eoghan agreed. They turned and walked out.

The hall was brighter and cheerier than the dark room and for a while, they sat by the fire and drew shapes and pictures in the ashes that lay on the hearth. The court went on unheeded behind them. Ruari began drawing the shapes of letters she knew and pointed them to Eoghan. Eoghan wrote his name and whispered it to Ruari. Ruari wrote her name, and whispered it to him. A few moments of silence followed while they both busily wrote in the dust. Then Eoghan said he had spelled a word, and Ruari said he hadn’t, for he didn’t know how to write. They bickered back and forth, and then Ruari smudged his word out with her hand. There was almost a fight, but Ledwyn came over and told them to hush.

They stood up, brushed the ashes from their hands and knees, and searched for a new form of pastime. They went to their parents’ room and found their father’s sword. With some difficulty, they picked it up and laid it on the bed. They did not try to draw it out of the sheath, but they admired the carved hilt. Ruari stroked the leather of the sheath.

They heard some hubbub in the hall. They glanced at each other quickly and then hastily put the sword back where they had found it. When they returned to the hall, they found it had been a false alarm and that the court was still proceeding. They sighed, and looked for something else to do.

At long last, everyone had had their say before the eorl. The meeting was breaking up. The children ran to the kitchen, shouting with excitement now that no one would chide them for being too loud. They knew the women were often easy to wheedle something out of. They climbed up the bench and knelt with their hands on the table and their eyes bright and expectant as they glanced around. Already there was preparation going on for the evening meal, and at first, no one paid them any mind.

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn smiled. “I would appreciate that very much. Thank you,” she said.

Just then, Léof showed up in the doorway with Cerwyn’s pack. He hesitated a moment. It felt strange to him to come into the women’s bedroom, but he saw no rational reason why he should not bring it in to where Cerwyn and Saeryn were standing.

“Here you are,” he said. “I’ll let you get settled. If you’d like to come find me after, I’ll be in the stables until supper.”

[Firefoot]

Scyld had been careful not to meet anyone's eye after giving his account. Thankfully, no one had objected out loud, but Scyld suspected this had more to do with the people's trust in Eodwine than with any kind of goodwill toward him.

He would have to face them eventually, of course. He wasn't even sure what he was so afraid of: it was not as if he had ever been much liked before. What did the opinions of others mean to him?

But they did matter, however much he wished to deny it. Eventually, whether he felt the stare and needed to meet it, or just wanted to see if there was any chance that he still had something like an ally or friend here, he looked up.

Rowenna was watching him. He studied her face carefully but briefly and saw no trace of anything false in her smile. Confused, he looked away, but he did not forget.

[Folwren]

“I will leave you to unpack and freshen yourself,” Saeryn said. “I will have fresh water brought to you so you can wash. If you have not eaten, come to the kitchen when you are ready and have something.”

She followed Léof out of the room, picking up the wash bucket as she left. She took it to the kitchen, where she found several of the other ladies already hard at work, and her two children sitting expectantly at the table.

“Mama!” Ruari called when she saw her. “We’re hungry!”

“You can wait till supper,” Saeryn said. She opened the kitchen door and flung the old water from the bucket out into the muddy yard. She closed the door again and poured some water from one of the full buckets that had been brought in that morning. “In the mean time, you two take this to the women’s chamber. Cerwyn is waiting for it.”

“Who’s Cerwyn?” Eoghan asked as he slid off the bench.

“Léof’s sister!” Saeryn said cheerfully. “You shall meet her. Come, Ruari, and help your brother.”

Ruari climbed down reluctantly and took the other side of the handle and helped Eoghan lift the water. Saeryn held the door open for them and they carried the bucket out into the hall. She watched them until they knocked at the women’s quarter’s door, then she turned to the ladies in the kitchen. “How are things coming along?” she asked. “Has anyone checked on Wilheard since court ended?”

[Firefoot]

Left alone, Cerwyn took a moment to more closely inspect the small space that had been given to her. She sat on the bed and thought it seemed comfortable enough. The quilt was soft and made from earthy-colored patches: rich browns, reds like clay, and golds that put her in mind of wheat fields at harvest time.

She stood and went to the chest at the foot of the bed. No adornments marked its lid or front, but it opened quietly and smoothly, giving testament to excellent workmanship and good maintenance. She had hardly opened her pack to begin moving her possessions to the chest when there was a knock at the door.

She looked around, despite knowing that she was the only one there, and called out, “Come in!”

In came a pair of youngsters, lugging a bucket between them.

“Are you Cerwyn?” asked one of them.

“I am,” she said, “and who might you be?”