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Post by Jenny on Jul 16, 2014 1:53:33 GMT -5
“Who is that?” Astrid bowed her head closer to Ulfr’s as they watched the woman dart into the woods, as if he would know since this was his father’s land.
“I know her not.” He shook his head, watching where she had gone, his eyes moving to the elder tree. “Come, let’s away.”
He turned his horse and kicked it into a trot back to the manor, hugging the tree line and not going into them. Astrid had no choice but to follow, her brow furrowed and pale. She had been spooked by the old woman, and Ulfr had seen it as a bad sign. He did not want to linger.
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Post by KD on Jul 16, 2014 1:58:25 GMT -5
Eira was surprised to find a woman calling out to her in the forest, her voice echoing. When she finally appeared, a strange specter clothed in fur, the woman was stunned into silence for a few moments before her love for her child moved her. Eira listened silently, torn. It was a dangerous precedent. If people started believing she could work miracles, she would inevitably fail their expectations and it was likely they would turn on her, maybe alert the Jarl to her presence.
In the end, however, she couldn't deny her own nature and went with her, taking herbs and salves and teas she had managed to make. She simply couldn't stand by and allow a child to die when she could do something to help. She followed the woman to her home, preparing to try and save the child.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 16, 2014 20:20:00 GMT -5
As soon as Ulfr and Astrid returned to the manor grounds, two servants approached to hold the bridle as their masters dismounted. Astrid dismounted, and Ulfr did not, looking back down the way they had come. She furrowed her brow, her hands slipping slowly from the saddle.
“My Lord?” She turned towards him, her gloved hands folded neatly together before her skirt. “Is all well?”
Ulfr turned to her. “Return to the manor, I have business to attend to. I will return before supper.” He looked at the servant, who withdrew his hand from the bridle and stepped away so that Ulfr could turn the horse, unfettered, and take off at a canter back down to the forest.
Astrid watched him leave, completely baffled by his behavior, but she complied to his command, casting looks behind her as she returned to the manor.
Ulfr tore down the way, urging his horse to go faster, and it skidded to a halt at the carved elder tree as he pulled upon the reigns hard. He dismounted, searching for footprints, curious if the woman who had gone alone into the woods had come back with a companion. He had a mind to trail her and investigate, without making himself known, of course.
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Post by KD on Jul 16, 2014 20:35:46 GMT -5
There were indeed two sets of footprints in the churned up snow and indeed, Ulfr didn't even need that much evidence. With no more crops and trees leafless, there was nothing obscuring his view of two figures crossing the field toward one of the shepherd's houses, one a big Norse woman, the one he'd seen before, and a smaller figure dressed in furs.
The boy was bundled up in a cot in his parents' bedroom. Eira pulled a stool up beside him and sat down on it, ignoring the fierce and fearful argument between the woman and her husband. The man didn't want her hear, fearful of her for one and afraid what the Jarl would do if he found out. But his wife prevailed, standing in front of the cot protectively and refusing to budge, her other children peering around her skirts at the strange woman tending to their brother.
Eira checked him over carefully. She saw no signs of sickness in the others, so she was pretty sure it wasn't contagious. The boy was shivering even as he sweated and Eira prepared a herbal cold compress to lay across his brow and gave his mother herbs to brew as a tea.
She laid a hand on the boy's chest, wincing as he coughed and it shook his entire frame. His poor little body was wearing itself thin trying to battle the infection. She smoothed a salve over his chest and throat and let her fingers linger in the hollow of his throat, focusing on nothing but him. There...the problem was in his lungs.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 16, 2014 20:46:20 GMT -5
Ulfr quieted his horse and watched their distant figures, crouching and following just out of sight, by means of following their prints. He simply wanted to know where Eira was going and why she had chosen to make her presence so public. What could be the reason for it? Had she tired of living alone, perhaps finding a warm place to spend the winter, or a matter of such importance that she was willing to leave her dwelling place?
He saw the farmstead where they had gone and approached no further, content to see where the Celtic woman had gone. He would find out what he wanted to know one way or another. He dared not creep about like a thief, for it would mean that his presence may be identified. It was better not to make himself not known. Satisfied, he went back the way he had come, less stealthily, now that the two figures were inside the homestead. Upon mounting his waiting horse, he turned into the trees and coaxed his horse forward as fast as it could manage, wishing to privately take a glance at what the Celtic woman had done for herself.
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Post by KD on Jul 17, 2014 0:14:26 GMT -5
Eira was inside for several hours. Ulfr wasn't the only one waiting for her. Several times, the white stag appeared at the edge of the forest, tail swishing, and disappeared back inside, appearing agitated.
She stayed in long because she couldn't leave the boy with that fever. He wouldn't survive the night if the fever kept up as strong as it did. His mother knew it, which was why she had been so desperate. She kept pressing compresses to his forehead, always touching his skin somehow. Within a few hours, his fever finally broke and the horrible heaviness to his coughing had faded. Eira pushed herself to her feet and stepped aside for his parents to gather around him. When he opened his eyes and looked blearily at his mother, she burst into tears and gathered him against her. His father just stood, his hand over his mouth slightly, tears in his eyes.
By the time they had pulled themselves together, Eira had slipped out of the house. She had left a bag of tea leaves, the compress, and some salve on the table for them, their youngest informing them solemnly that the lady had said to keep administering them every few hours until he was improving. The man's wife hurried to the door but Eira was already gone, using some trick to remain unseen.
She'd drained herself. Not to dangerous levels yet, but enough that her footsteps were heavy as she crossed quickly to the woods, getting out of plain sight as soon as she could and heading back up to the ruins.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2014 0:28:16 GMT -5
Ulfr had left by the time she returned, but there were footprints around her ruins, of the size of a man’s.
He turned over animal skins to look at her work. It was rough and crude and would likely not fetch a fine of price as an expert skinner. Whether or not she intended them for trade was not clear. It was likely more for warmth. He placed the skins where he had found them, uninterested in theft, for his work was better. He wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he had been here, and it would likely annoy the hell out of the woman. He walked through the ruins, inspecting everything, noticing that stones were in various states of carving. There was already a grinding stone, which had chaff from ground grain, a deep bowl, likely for cooking, and a brazier; clearly functional pieces. There were others, somewhat crude but stonework was not quick work either. He scowled at the presence of the grain. She was either stealing it from the stores or was being gifted for services rendered. He smelled the stink of fish and found the underground lake. Fish bones and other refuse was piled in one corner of the room.
He took nothing, disturbed not many things, and was sure to leave in plenty of time to keep his promise to Astrid.
Ulfr paused when he saw the white stag, who had dropped his horns after the autumn. Still, one could see that it was indeed a stag from its build. Its deep black eyes were staring at his own, but it did not move out of fear, even when Ulfr walked to mount his horse, turn about, and ride down the mountain pass after giving the stag a nod out of respect for the beauty and wise beast it was.
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Post by KD on Jul 17, 2014 0:42:35 GMT -5
The stag kept his distance and it was not happy to see him there, though it didn't enter Eira's sanctuary after him, nor did it hang around long, returning to the edge of the forest to wait for Eira. She was pathetically grateful for it, even more so when it allowed her to lean on it as they went up the mountain.
Her heart stuttered in her chest when she saw the bootprints all around the ruins. She stumbled into her sanctuary, pushing aside the furs she had hung over the entrance to keep the chill out. She tore through the rooms of the ruins despite how tired she was, heart pounding frantically. She was relieved to find nothing stolen or too much out of place but she felt angry tears prick her eyes and swiped at them impatiently. She kept telling herself it was foolish to get distraught because she couldn't have expected anything more from him, it was surprising he hadn't come pawing through her area sooner and it was her own fault for not setting traps around when she left. At least he hadn't taken anything, she thought, opening the room she used to smoke meat, or stolen anything out of spite.
Exhausted physically and mentally, she made herself drink some tea and eat some smoked meat before she curled up on the pile of furs that acted as her bedding.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2014 1:03:44 GMT -5
He had a smirk on his face as he left her “claim,” imagining the vexation… possibly terror… she would likely experience because of the unwelcome intrusion. He strode confidently into the manor to change out of these riding clothes and into something that didn’t smell like woods, fish and horse. Astrid too had changed, making herself presentable. It annoyed him that her presence was now so common because his father encouraged it from the lass. But she was companionable enough though she often wore a wounded smile on her face when it back was turned. He knew it too, sure that the girl had become attached to him. It made his stomach sick.
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Post by KD on Jul 17, 2014 1:18:52 GMT -5
Unlike Ulfr, the boy's mother did not venture into her home, partly out of fear and partly out of respect. She made the journey up to the ruins in the evening while there was still some light and left a pot of stew just inside Eira's doorway before hurrying home. They hadn't much but despite Eira moving away before they could thank her, she was determined to at least give her something in return. Her pride wouldn't allow her otherwise. The woman stopped at the edge of the ruins, staring at the stag that walked delicately through it, pausing to observe her. She raised her hand to her mouth, eyes wide with wonder. She knew the Celts were supposed to be savages and beasts, more akin to animals, but this simply couldn't be the case for this woman, to be able to do what she did and have a creature like this as her companion. Those were the sort of things that started to be said about her, and the mountain in general.
She was indeed still vexed when she awoke, groggy and her head aching from taxing herself. She sniffed, catching the scent of good meat, and crept out, blinking when she saw the pot of stew. Tears pricked her eyes, her vexation fading as she took it in, warming it up a bit over the fire and savoring each bite. She knew it was a matter of pride- she would have found a way to pay someone back as well -but the fact she thanked her at all spoke clearly of her character.
She'd forgotten, Eira mused as she ate, that if one wanted to see the true soul of a people, you looked at the folk who had little, not at the nobility. When she'd first been brought here, she had never expected to find anyone with humanity amongst the Vikings. The slaves and the peasant folk changed her mind.
After she had eaten, she set aside the rest for later and went about tidying up. Ulfr might not have been impressed by her sanctuary, but it was as clean as she could get it and almost ruthlessly organized. Everything had a purpose and a place, with no wasted space.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2014 1:46:53 GMT -5
Ulfr sat through another dinner, cordial but not opening up conversation, usually keeping his responses in as few words as possible. He did not look about either, just concentrated on his food as if it were the most interesting thing in the dining hall. Astrid and her father joined them once per week now, and there was always some sort of dinner involved. Ulfr dreaded these days because he would rather not be dragged into this.
The Jarl looked at his son through narrowed eyes. This affair had been going on for weeks, and not once had his son to offer his companionship to Astrid unless it was suggested. He thought his son was being a complete fool.
Astrid was prattling on about some silly thing she did as a child, when she turned to Ulfr, laughing and making a light joke, Ulfr responded with a grunt, then sat up straight and managed a smile.
“An amusing story, Astrid.”
She smiled in return, much more genuinely than Ulfr himself, a light blush touching her cheeks. How could she still be so hopefull?!
Later that night, when the candles were being snuffed, Ulfr’s father tapped on his son’s door and announced that he was to enter, waiting a few moments in case his son was not decent.
Ulfr let out a drawn sigh and bade him enter. His father was still dressed in his dinner clothes. The old man went to a chair and sit down and Ulfr threw aside his cloak, straightening his shirt and sat down on the edge of the bed. He waited for his father to speak, not wanting to begin a conversation that would surely be tiresome.
“Astrid’s father and I have been speaking this eve of you,” he began.
“Have you?” Ulfr cast him a wary glance.
“We are only looking out for your happiness, Ulfr, surely you know this.”
Ulfr only grunted in response.
His father sighed. “My boy, I did not want to pressure you into this… you must understand—“
“I will not marry the girl,” Ulfr said resolutely, grinding his jaw. “I have suffered this enough. I do not love her.”
“That is quite clear,” his father said abruptly in reply. “Her father notices this as well, though both of us are completely baffled. Is she not lovely? Is she not kind?”
“Indeed, she is, but she holds no interest for me.”
The Jarl banged a fist on the chair. “Hel, boy, I would have you settled down! Give an old man some peace and marry this woman. She is a good match.”
“A fine match for anyone,” Ulfr agreed. “But nay, not for me.”
The Jarl screwed up his face in anger, positively growing red. “If you will not marry her… I…. I’ll… disown you!”
Ulfr darted a glance at his father’s face, completely taken aback. “You’ll disown me? Your only son?”
His father was absolutely livid. “I would marry the girl myself if it would promise me an heir, so help me…”
“Then why don’t you?” Ulfr shot back angrily, standing from the bed. “She will make a fine match,” he spat, mimicking his father’s words.
“By Loki, Ulfr!” The old man got to his feet, shaking in rage. “I would disown you… I would… I will give you one last chance to redeem yourself on the next visit. Decide then. Propose to the girl or leave this house!”
“Has it come to this?” Ulfr’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“Aye,” his father growled. Then his body relaxed and he sighed, giving him a dismissive wave and left the chamber.
Ulfr breathed in and out hotly, and threw the goblet by his bedside at the bedroom door. Wine splashed about upon the floor.
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Post by KD on Jul 17, 2014 1:56:49 GMT -5
Eira started hanging bones and stone beads strung on strips of leather throughout her ruins. Fish bones, bird skulls, beads made also of bone. And snake remains, sometimes the entirety of their skeletal structure, such as it was.
She didn't mind of people started coming to her for help but it occurred to her that if she balanced things out with a little bit of fear, it would do well for her in the long run. She also gained a new friend as the real snowfalls began. A raven started roosting near her sanctuary, the only one she'd seen all winter. She blinked in surprise every time she saw it, but didn't mind. She even started throwing fish bones and such out for it to pick at. The noisy creature was all too pleased to do so and often hopped around the snow after her. Again, despite the cold, Eira enjoyed walking through the snow for a bit. The woods were so quiet.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2014 2:19:43 GMT -5
Ulfr had stalked back and forth in his room for much of the remainder of the night, at first angry and indignant, then seriously considering his situation. He had always had the freedom to choose, had always had a life of privilege, and had no mantle of responsibility other than to not do any act that would dishonor the Jarl. He had lived life cleanly and had committed no damnable sins. Even Loki would approve of his virility. It was not wrong to create a bastard child if one was noble, but it would be wrong to marry the mother of that child if she were not nobility. If he were to lose his status, women may be howling at his door to bring home a father for the sons and daughters he had been cause to be born. The shame of it would also mean that he would not likely stay in Bjorvig, or anywhere nearby, but go somewhere where he was unknown. His friend Asger would have supported him, would have known what to do, but this was a matter he would be forced to solve on his own.
Would it be so unpleasant to marry Astrid? He could marry her, get the woman pregnant to produce an heir, then set sail just as Asger had done and ne’er return. He could live a life of his own choosing, with all the riches the belly of the Sækonungar could hold. This would be the better bargain. It was decided, then…
When the day came, Ulfr dressed in his best, his mood altered as if he was a changed man. He attended to Astrid like a suitor should and by midday he had proposed for her hand. The Jarl was insatiably pleased, and Astrid’s father could not stop clapping him on the back. The Jarl was relieved that he would not have to carry out his threat for indeed he loved his son and wanted to see him happy. He had also made arrangements for the occasion, opening up the mead hall with friends of the family to congratulate the couple. As they sat down to a fulsome feast, Halldorr Volundr had already begun plans for the handfasting while tipping the cups.
Ulfr played his part, sitting next to the blushing bride-to-be, who could not keep her eyes off him but for a few moments. He looked down at her and smiled, touched her hand, refilled her cup himself, quite dutifully. To everyone’s eyes he was quite smitten with Astrid, to the grief of ever single woman servant in the mead hall.
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Post by KD on Jul 17, 2014 2:37:09 GMT -5
Eira made it a point to do a quick run around of the area outside the woods, usually in the evenings when it was easy to hide.
She had not forgotten Brittany and the other slaves who had helped her by any stretch of the imagination and by that point several of them had found a spot between wood and hall that could act as a meeting place when one of them had the time. They were overjoyed to be able to speak with her again and give her news that might be useful, as well as know she was all right. Eira could give them herbs and such that they couldn't gather easily. Brittany and a couple of the others had tried to press food from their own shares on her but Eira staunchly refused, saying the winter was still going to be hard and they needed whatever they could get.
Naturally, Ulfr's engagement was a topic she probably would have heard of even if she hadn't been in contact with them. Everyone from one end of Bjorvig to the other was talking about it.
"He's getting married," Brittany said as she tucked some dried herbs in a small bag beneath her cloak. She drew it closer around her, shivering in the darkening air, shielded from view by trees. "Some noblewoman akin to Asger, they said."
"Tall, red gold hair?" Eira asked.
Brittany blinked. "You've seen her."
"Once from afar. She has wide hips, a good figure." A good little broodmare, she thought once again. She knew nothing more of the woman and didn't care, so long as she was a good mistress to Brittany and the others. "I hope he gets down to making children and being all proper so he'll be distracted enough he'll forget about me." Maybe she could feign death come spring and he would assume she had died and not give it anymore thought with such things to distract him...
"From what I've seen of the Jarl's son, he'll likely get her with child and then run off to sea come spring."
"That would work too."
Brittany laughed. Eira noticed she was shivering and tightened her cloak around her a bit, shooing her back toward the manor. "Go and enjoy the leavings of the feast."
The Briton slave laughed again. "I'll come back with some gossip later."
It wasn't gossip so much as giving Eira an edge by keeping her informed and they both knew it, and Eira was grateful. She waited until she was sure Brittany would get back safely before going home, the raven keeping pace with her from above.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 17, 2014 23:51:41 GMT -5
The handfasting between Ulfr and his bride Astrid would take place on the day of the Winter Solstice. Friends of the Jarl and the Volundr family were in attendance, and the bride was said to look very beautiful, and Ulfr fetching. Ulfr felt no joy at the ceremony and took to the cups heavily throughout he night. While others were of good cheer, he had barely a smile when the guests came to congratulate him. As the grow grew late, Ulfr would make the best of bedding her, feeling the enjoyment that a male can have while taking a woman. She coed to him, throwing his arms about his neck, and writhed as he took her virginhood. As she cuddled up to him after they had made love, snuggling her mouth against his ribs, she ran a hand over the scar along them.
“How came you of this, my Lord?” She murmured.
Ulfr moved his neck to look down at her. “A Celtic gave me that wound when I crossed swords with him.”
“A Celtic?” Her eyes lit up and she rocked herself up to lean on her elbow. “Was it a battle of war?”
“A slave uprising,” he corrected, letting in and out a sigh.
“Slave?” Her brow furrowed. “He must have been quite a beast to wound the likes of you.”
“Aye,” he tilted his head. “A savage.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Are they all savages, the Celts?”
“They are heathens, every last one of them,” he murmured, yawning. The drink and the act of making love had made him drowsy.
“Well, I think they should all be slain and be done with it.” She said, stroking his side.
“Mayhaps,” Ulfr agreed. “Though they do make for a fine entertainment…” he chuckled.
“What mean you?” Her brow knit.
“Nevermind,” he shook his head. “Sleep.” Ulfr twisted to roll over on his side. She pressed himself against him, draping an arm lazily over him and kissed his cheek.
“Goodnight, my love,” she said sweetly as he closed his eyes. He nodded but gave no reply.
She awoke alone in the bed, she ran a hand over where Ulfr had slept but the bed was not warm. The day after the wedding and he had not stayed abed? She curled the covers over her and let out a puff of breath, frustrated.
Indeed, Ulfr had slept lightly, and woke often, eventually shrugging off the woman’s arm and slipping out of bed. He dressed, giving a glance at her sleeping form before leaving the bedroom, which had been set aside specifically for the Lord and his new Lady, for Ulfr’s private quarters would not do. He went to them, intending to spend the rest of the morning alone and unfettered. He washed himself and put on a loose shirt and leggings, a warm jerkin and fur-lined boots, dressing warmly for the hike to the woods where he would resume his morning work outs. Only the servants were awake, drawing the water, and preparing for the day of servitude.
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