Post by Tallaith on Dec 15, 2009 12:48:47 GMT -5
Ceallian paused mid-sentence as she caught sight of him moving quickly through the shadows of the market stalls. She shook her head and shifted the baby on her hip, lighting her brightest smile for the farmwife loading a basket of vegetables for her.
She laid out a few carefully-counted pennies and tried to balance both the heavy basket and now-squirming Aedan. She couldn’t resist a smile at the baby; at three months of age, he was now showing a VERY active interest in the world around him. A tiny arm wriggled out of his swaddling and she sighed with a half-smile as the farmwife stepped around the table of gourds to help her tuck him back in.
As the girl made her way through the rain-slicked cobblestone streets of Bree-Town, she couldn’t help but worry that this weather was too harsh for the baby. The winter had been fairly mild, only boasting a few inches of snow but plenty of sleet and frozen rain. Her breath smoked as she concentrated on her footing. Maybe she should get a room in the ‘Pony and avoid a long walk back to her own house in this miserably wet mess of an afternoon. She chided herself as soon as she had the thought; her oiled wool cloak would keep her and the baby dry enough for an hour’s walk and she was just making excuses to stay out of the house.
Two days had passed since Cay fetched her son back from his “foster parents.” That was terrible mess in every way; when she left Aedan with Valtias and his Woman, she left him under the assumption that everyone was familiar with the practice of fosterage. In the girl’s homeland, many families who were either nobility or highly-ranking in the military sent their children to the households of friends. This prevented hostage-taking, and among nobility, fosterage was a practice to show trust in fellow nobles by offering children as collateral against betrayal. While Ceallian needed a safe place for her son for only a few weeks to settle into her new place as a mother and take care of matters with both her husband and cousin, Valtias and his deore apparently believed she was leaving him behind forever.
She was still in mourning for losing a friend. The weather seemed to reflect only her very rare sullen and sad mood.
Only her wariness of him kept her from sinking deeper into her thoughts. For the four days since Ceallian sent her cousin, Leasung, away in the company of an Elf she barely knew, the girl had been glimpsing a shadow in her wake, and not one cast by the light on her own form. She never saw the skulking figure outside of the gates of Bree, though the wooded road that led to her own house likely offered him enough cover that she’d never catch sight of him there. Or perhaps his interest was only on her doings in town. Regardless, he had not posed her any threat or approached her in any way. She’d decided to let him do as he would until he made her feel more than a slight unease; for all she knew, he was a swooning young admirer wondering when he could approach her for a word or two.
Cay was nearly to the South Gate of town when the rain grew past a lazy mist and into fat, frigid droplets. Her concern for Aedan, who was now still and grumbling in the crook of her arm, swayed her to turn right and make her way quickly to the Hunting Lodge. From here she could send word to Edan at home if she felt it was too poor outside to try to return home, but first she would wait for the rain to slacken and have a mulled cider.
The serving girl in the Lodge greeted mother and child with cooing concern and immediately found Ceallian a deeply-cushioned chair near one of the twin hearths. Cay was known to the Men of Bree very well for both her playing and for her position among her band of friends; within moments, a cup was pressed in her hand and her cloak was taken to be hung to dry. Ceallian smiled thankfully to the girl who tended her then positioned Aedan in her lap to feed him from a little skin of goat’s milk she carried in her bodice to keep warm.
She watched her son thoughtfully, his fat and flushed little face going quite placid as he suckled. He looked quite a bit like Edan, and became more and more similar seemingly by the day. Truthfully she’d found caring for him much easier than she’d imagined when he’d been brand-new, but then again she’d only had him full-time and without a nurse for two days. She stroked his wisps of dark hair back from his forehead. He was worth giving up her livelihood, though she’d never thought she’d come to realize this.
Her thoughts wandered as she toasted her soaked boots on the hearthstone of the fire. Right now, Edan was likely still clearing spiders and dust out of the long-unused house she owned just outside the city gates. She smiled softly. They were beginning to make a family together, a real one, but his new life was changing him greatly. She was curious to see what sort of Man he would become.
She wondered most of all what her cousin was doing right now, if the girl was warm and fed and learning much from Berenloth. The Elf seemed to be earnest enough in his concern, if only to serve his own interests. Ceallian had faith that Leasung was self-serving above all else and would in no way tolerate inappropriate behaviour in any way from her teacher; Ceallian’s readings of Berenloth all pointed to the fact that his tastes did not stray towards lasses in the least, so at least that particular threat would not be present. However, Cay was now second-guessing her decision in sending the girl away with so little thought.
She had to remind herself, as she stared into the embers and carressed her son’s head, that her own life had no room for someone like Leasung right now. She had many other folks to care for and tend to, not in the least her own husband, her son, and her long-neglected brother. This was the only solution she could see.
Her brother… Ceallian had not even seen Kessler since her wedding! Did he even know that he was an uncle now? She would have to send out scouts to determine where he’d wandered off to. She did not want him to slip out of her life again, but she barely knew him to talk to him.
The rain slicked silvery and cold down the huge wavery windows of the Lodge. The girl stared into the fire, holding her son close, and tried not to lose herself too deeply in thought. Behind her, the door the the Lodge cracked open and a shadow slipped in, unnoticed by all as it darted into the darkest corner of the room.
Leasung was warm and dry, which would have comforted her cousin greatly. However, she was still wearing the same dress she’d left Bree-Town in days ago, which was now ragged, caked in dirt and snarled and torn from brambles, and the girl was entirely shoeless. She woke up in the thin dawnlight and within moments was completely miserable again, seemingly her constant state since she’d walked out the gates of town with this strange Elf.
She arched her cramped feet and hissed softly. Blisters marred her soles and toes from walking so far in just cloth slippers. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d fare today either barefoot or in boots; if she was truly going scouting, as Berenloth had threatened, she had no idea how she’d move quietly or carefully with her feet in such bad shape. At least she had her walking stick to lean on. She was very sure the Elf wouldn’t allow her to remain behind in the camp alone.
She groggily tried to sit up and was quickly thwarted. Her eyes went wide. She was tied to the center post of the tent by her wrists, of course. After her rather sedate, at least in her own opinion, temper tantrum last night, preceded by a brief adventure by herself in the Weather Hills, Berenloth was taking no chances that she’d run away or harm him again.
Damn.
Berenloth’s own bedroll was empty and from where she was lying, Leasung could only see a tiny slice of the campsite through the tent’s flap. People were moving around in the cold, grey light. She could smell the campfires, hear the soft noises of folks getting ready for their harsh days. For a moment she debated calling out for help, then quickly decided against it. Some of these travelers were not people known for honour. This was not a good position to be in if someone answered her call who had not seen a pretty lass in a long time.
She sighed. Now her nose was running. Lovely. All she needed now was a cold.
She waited.
She laid out a few carefully-counted pennies and tried to balance both the heavy basket and now-squirming Aedan. She couldn’t resist a smile at the baby; at three months of age, he was now showing a VERY active interest in the world around him. A tiny arm wriggled out of his swaddling and she sighed with a half-smile as the farmwife stepped around the table of gourds to help her tuck him back in.
As the girl made her way through the rain-slicked cobblestone streets of Bree-Town, she couldn’t help but worry that this weather was too harsh for the baby. The winter had been fairly mild, only boasting a few inches of snow but plenty of sleet and frozen rain. Her breath smoked as she concentrated on her footing. Maybe she should get a room in the ‘Pony and avoid a long walk back to her own house in this miserably wet mess of an afternoon. She chided herself as soon as she had the thought; her oiled wool cloak would keep her and the baby dry enough for an hour’s walk and she was just making excuses to stay out of the house.
Two days had passed since Cay fetched her son back from his “foster parents.” That was terrible mess in every way; when she left Aedan with Valtias and his Woman, she left him under the assumption that everyone was familiar with the practice of fosterage. In the girl’s homeland, many families who were either nobility or highly-ranking in the military sent their children to the households of friends. This prevented hostage-taking, and among nobility, fosterage was a practice to show trust in fellow nobles by offering children as collateral against betrayal. While Ceallian needed a safe place for her son for only a few weeks to settle into her new place as a mother and take care of matters with both her husband and cousin, Valtias and his deore apparently believed she was leaving him behind forever.
She was still in mourning for losing a friend. The weather seemed to reflect only her very rare sullen and sad mood.
Only her wariness of him kept her from sinking deeper into her thoughts. For the four days since Ceallian sent her cousin, Leasung, away in the company of an Elf she barely knew, the girl had been glimpsing a shadow in her wake, and not one cast by the light on her own form. She never saw the skulking figure outside of the gates of Bree, though the wooded road that led to her own house likely offered him enough cover that she’d never catch sight of him there. Or perhaps his interest was only on her doings in town. Regardless, he had not posed her any threat or approached her in any way. She’d decided to let him do as he would until he made her feel more than a slight unease; for all she knew, he was a swooning young admirer wondering when he could approach her for a word or two.
Cay was nearly to the South Gate of town when the rain grew past a lazy mist and into fat, frigid droplets. Her concern for Aedan, who was now still and grumbling in the crook of her arm, swayed her to turn right and make her way quickly to the Hunting Lodge. From here she could send word to Edan at home if she felt it was too poor outside to try to return home, but first she would wait for the rain to slacken and have a mulled cider.
The serving girl in the Lodge greeted mother and child with cooing concern and immediately found Ceallian a deeply-cushioned chair near one of the twin hearths. Cay was known to the Men of Bree very well for both her playing and for her position among her band of friends; within moments, a cup was pressed in her hand and her cloak was taken to be hung to dry. Ceallian smiled thankfully to the girl who tended her then positioned Aedan in her lap to feed him from a little skin of goat’s milk she carried in her bodice to keep warm.
She watched her son thoughtfully, his fat and flushed little face going quite placid as he suckled. He looked quite a bit like Edan, and became more and more similar seemingly by the day. Truthfully she’d found caring for him much easier than she’d imagined when he’d been brand-new, but then again she’d only had him full-time and without a nurse for two days. She stroked his wisps of dark hair back from his forehead. He was worth giving up her livelihood, though she’d never thought she’d come to realize this.
Her thoughts wandered as she toasted her soaked boots on the hearthstone of the fire. Right now, Edan was likely still clearing spiders and dust out of the long-unused house she owned just outside the city gates. She smiled softly. They were beginning to make a family together, a real one, but his new life was changing him greatly. She was curious to see what sort of Man he would become.
She wondered most of all what her cousin was doing right now, if the girl was warm and fed and learning much from Berenloth. The Elf seemed to be earnest enough in his concern, if only to serve his own interests. Ceallian had faith that Leasung was self-serving above all else and would in no way tolerate inappropriate behaviour in any way from her teacher; Ceallian’s readings of Berenloth all pointed to the fact that his tastes did not stray towards lasses in the least, so at least that particular threat would not be present. However, Cay was now second-guessing her decision in sending the girl away with so little thought.
She had to remind herself, as she stared into the embers and carressed her son’s head, that her own life had no room for someone like Leasung right now. She had many other folks to care for and tend to, not in the least her own husband, her son, and her long-neglected brother. This was the only solution she could see.
Her brother… Ceallian had not even seen Kessler since her wedding! Did he even know that he was an uncle now? She would have to send out scouts to determine where he’d wandered off to. She did not want him to slip out of her life again, but she barely knew him to talk to him.
The rain slicked silvery and cold down the huge wavery windows of the Lodge. The girl stared into the fire, holding her son close, and tried not to lose herself too deeply in thought. Behind her, the door the the Lodge cracked open and a shadow slipped in, unnoticed by all as it darted into the darkest corner of the room.
Leasung was warm and dry, which would have comforted her cousin greatly. However, she was still wearing the same dress she’d left Bree-Town in days ago, which was now ragged, caked in dirt and snarled and torn from brambles, and the girl was entirely shoeless. She woke up in the thin dawnlight and within moments was completely miserable again, seemingly her constant state since she’d walked out the gates of town with this strange Elf.
She arched her cramped feet and hissed softly. Blisters marred her soles and toes from walking so far in just cloth slippers. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d fare today either barefoot or in boots; if she was truly going scouting, as Berenloth had threatened, she had no idea how she’d move quietly or carefully with her feet in such bad shape. At least she had her walking stick to lean on. She was very sure the Elf wouldn’t allow her to remain behind in the camp alone.
She groggily tried to sit up and was quickly thwarted. Her eyes went wide. She was tied to the center post of the tent by her wrists, of course. After her rather sedate, at least in her own opinion, temper tantrum last night, preceded by a brief adventure by herself in the Weather Hills, Berenloth was taking no chances that she’d run away or harm him again.
Damn.
Berenloth’s own bedroll was empty and from where she was lying, Leasung could only see a tiny slice of the campsite through the tent’s flap. People were moving around in the cold, grey light. She could smell the campfires, hear the soft noises of folks getting ready for their harsh days. For a moment she debated calling out for help, then quickly decided against it. Some of these travelers were not people known for honour. This was not a good position to be in if someone answered her call who had not seen a pretty lass in a long time.
She sighed. Now her nose was running. Lovely. All she needed now was a cold.
She waited.