Preparing for the Picnic

[Dream Loxley]

*Ellissia clutched a handful of rose petals and dropped them onto the table....clumsy in her efforts, she took another handful from the basket and giggled as the petals drifted from her fingers...flying on the gentle breeze. There were several Village children doing the same, those that had been staying safely within the Castle whilst the battles were rife. Between them the task was being accomplished, although it was seen more of a game than a chore and the tables were beginning to look very pretty as coloured petals adorned the crisp white table cloths. Those old enough to tie bows were adding ribbons to the table legs....each length flapping gently in the breeze as the children giggled and talked of the games they would play later.

Emily was helping with the tablecloths and the laughter of both adults and children could be heard as the cloth billowed like a sail in the wind....it just would not stay where they tried in vain to place it. One of the children had the idea to add some stones to the corners of the tressle table and they found that worked well enough. This was fun...they were enjoying themselves.....all worries and fears of the past few weeks had gone from their young minds as they continued dressing the long line of tables.

The Chatelaine had smiled warmly as she watched them all.....children of all ages and all stations mingling together with those of the Castle... none different in their goal this day. She admired them all...and praised them as she helped with another basket of petals. Soon the food platters would be set down and there would be no risk of the cloths flying away then she told them all. Their eyes showed how happy they were...sharing in this meagre and yet so fulfilling task...how short the years were that they had no worries...no fears. Too soon she knew their lives would change, no more these days of gay abandonment..the days would be filled with work and worry as was the way of adulthood. For now...she smiled again and laughed to see them at play...today there was no need to look ahead, or to the past....today was for them...for all of them to enjoy.

Servants and villagers were placing benches around the tables.....quilts too were ready in case any of the Ladies took a chill from the fresh air....it was all starting to look like a proper picnic. More so as the first of the line of platters and trays appeared from the direction of the kitchens. Her tummy rumbled as the aroma of roasted meats and fresh baked breads found her nostrills.....cook had surpassed himself and she nodded enthusiastically as the tables were filled with all manner of delicious treats for the tastebuds.

Taking a moment...she glanced towards the Castle and wondered who would be able to enjoy the feast, knowing many were still busy with their duties either inside or out in the lands.....silently she wished them all to be safe and well...her heart sending whispers of love towards the Forests, knowing he would know and hear them wherever he was.*

[Sinold Bragasson]

As promised earlier, Sinold had made ready two of his Iceland ponies, Idun (one of the mares) and Behatan, Letha’s fowl. Both horses he adorned with colourful ribbons braided into their manes and tails, Idun he also fitted with a soft blanket onto her back. By now he had managed to get her used to have someone onto her back, even if the other mare and the stud were still somewhat more reluctant to allow anyone onto their backs.

Himself Sinold also had adorned a little bit, a green and blue ribbon he had braides into one of his braids on the right side of his head. It symbolized, in his tradition, that the man attending a festivity was in the stages of wooing a maid, and thus unavailable to others. He hoped Letha was at the picnic, and he hope she would be curious about the ribbon and ask him. Sinold loved to explain his customs to her, when asked.

He also hoped that the crew of Tyrun and the men from Thorgrimm’s ships would be able to come, at least a few of them. Maybe they also could share with Letha and the others what harvest traditions were known to them. Sinold himself was curious to learn more about the Varangians, Norse who had lived in the far east and sure could tell a tale or two.

With a joyous heart and his mind set upon bringing Idun and little Behatan to the gardens, so that Lady Dream’s daughter Elissa and maybe the one or the other of the ladies could also be enticed to sit upon Idun’s back. Maybe even Edfeil, after all Idun was about the same height as her beloved donkey.

[Lady Edfeil]

*She had embroidered napkins for the picnick. Simple, for many of them had had to be done in one day, but cheerfull with berries and chestnuts to adorn the linnen. They would be gifts later after being washed, for the children who had helped, to always have them remember the autumn feast. The scents of the kitchen drifted through all the castle, setting a mood of warmth and happiness now the difficult times were drifting towards their end.

Autumn neared and though much work needed to be done now on the fields to catch up for the forlorn time, 't was good, aye 't was wonderful to take the time for all men to be together and enjoy the bounty of these days when summer bordered autumn. Mushrooms were shooting up and nuts filled the trees. Her own favored chestnut pastries would soon be finding their way to the tables. The last of the apples would soon need to be picked, and the scent of nature itsself was ripe and lush.

Her own laughter mingled with that of the children as she walked amongst them. She caught sight of Lady Dream as she stared towards the forrests with a look of love and longing alike. She saw Sinold, ready to celebrate and -to her own utter surprise- even the ponies looked inviting. They were nae as tall as other horses and mayhap... mayhap she would even dare... iffen the children dared she would too, aye?

Settling upon the grass she enjoyed the time afore the rest of the castle would arrive with busy fingers. Nae a needlework this time captured her industry, but crowns of autumn flowers were deftly woven around light and supple willowbranches. The sunlight glinted her hair and the soft colour that had returned to her cheeks. For the first in long time... she felt contented.

[Halethala]

The rugged face of the dying Norseman, Torvall, seemed as a fog that swirled around her movements, floating before her, around her, beyond her, though oddly enough, his fate did not prod her to morbidity, but proved a gentle encouragement to savor what breath still coursed through her own body. She moved through her duties with deliberation, yet the images of what she had seen and heard while serving in the infirmary replayed themselves in her mind even when she dreamed . . she had to smile at the irrepressible Nordic spirit that flowed so wonderfully from the men who served under Captain Halfdane . . a zest for living that found humor even in the most dire of circumstances.

The colorful flutterings spread out on the lawns below caught her attention as she passed by a window, arms loaded with soiled linnens to bring down to be laundered. Her face lit with joy! So! The picnic was soon at hand! She stopped then, pausing as she surveyed the pretty scene, watching the busy children. There was Lady Dream, overseeing the industrious activity . . and dear little Ellissia . . and there was Lady Edfeil nestled in the grass, looking better than she had in ages!

Soon she spotted her beloved with the sweet ponies. Pressing her face closer to the glass, she wondered at the color about his head, and began descending the stairs to join them all . . . but soon stopped again . .

What on earth could she contribute! Surely nothing from her cooking pot . . it was to be a nice picnic, no reason to test the palates needlessly . . She thought of gathering flowers, but remembered that there were some who did not tolerate them well. Then a soft smile crossed her face. . . she hurried down the stairs, depositing her load, then scampered back upwards as quickly as her lifted skirts *and lungs* allowed her.

Moving from one to the other, she helped a few of the most mobile of the wounded to their feet, and guided them down the stairs to the sunlit garden, encouraging them as they went. "Of course you will be welcomed as well as any! Dinnae be silly! Ye cannae tell me ye would turn down a chance to fill yer lungs with fresh air . . as well as yer bellies with the abundance that our cooks hae to offer ye!" Winking then to one who held back, a bit hesitantly, clutching at his chest as he eased his way down the stairs "I'm certain there be ale aplenty, Skymir . . and perhaps some games or a bit o' dancing later, iffen ye be still up to it."

As the little entourage emerged from the castle, she smiled towards Sinold, beckoning with her eyes for his help. Whatever reluctance they had at coming to the picnic, she knew he would dispel with little effort.

Pecking a kiss at his cheek, she whispered, "Hullo, Love . . tis a joy to set me eyes on ye again . . D'ye think ye could round up some o' the men to help those more gravely wounded, so they could come down to the picnic as well?"

[Dream Loxley]

*Everything was gradually taking shape.....the gardens looked delightful, she nodded to herself and smiled. Perhaps the notion of gathering together was a little strange whilst the lands were still in a state of unease, but she was glad she had gone ahead with it. Even more glad when she took a moment to watch Lady Edfeil as she sewed.....her small figure almost lost within the longer grasses....and Sinold.....he did try so very hard of late. Ellissia was eager to pet the dear little ponies and very near dragged her Mother over to where they were enjoying the fresh grass beneath some trees. So sweet they were..and so pretty with their braids.....she had almost chuckled when she saw Sinold wearing similar within his hair, but thought better of herself...remembering the time she weaved ribbons into her own beloved's hair whilst he slept one eve. Perhaps she would ask him of such as the day wore on.

Her attention was taken then as Ellissia quickly hid behind her skirts, pulling them about her and peering around her right hip pointing. She looked over and was both overjoyed and quite distraught to see the walking wounded accompanying Halethala....she lifted a hand to wave and smiled warmly in Greetings. This was to be a most special day to be shared by all and she gently reached around and pulled her Daughter to her side. Crouching down so as to be the same level....she looked back to where the men were being settled upon benches and blankets..then looked to her little treasure....deep into her eyes with the softest of smiles.*

"Ye are nae to be afraid of them my precious one.....they be most brave...just as ye Daddy be....and they be far from their homes and families. Do ye think they would feel much better iffn ye did show them ye bestest smile and share ye rose petals aye."

*Ellissia thought for a moment.....her dark eyes sparkling in the sunshine...she nodded then several times and beamed brightly towards the injured men. Reaching for her Mother's hand as she stood....the small basket of petals grasped tightly to her...she started forward.*

[Sinold Bragasson]

His hands automatically went around Letha’s waist, pulling her quickly towards himself, returning her kiss on his cheek, only his found her lips instead. As quickly he brought some distance between the two of them. After all, they were in public, with a child around. Sinold sighed just a tad, then pecked Letha’s cheek for good measure and smiled down at her.

“Your heart is so large. To think of the injured show you to be a woman of great compassion! Of course I will help bringing them here. Do not worry, they will enjoy this time at the fresh air.” Again he kissed her cheek. “The fresh air invigorates me much as well, my Unnasta! You don’t know how I long for you…” For a last time he leaned in and hugged her close to himself before he went to gather a few of the guards who then helped bring all the injured who could possibly be outside to the garden, making them comfortable on blankets and benches.

When the inhabitants of the infirmary were all settled, Sinold went back to Letha, pulling her over to where Lady Dream sat, a twinkle in his eyes.

“You know, now we have all those injured here, but there are more who would enjoy this small distraction. I will ride down to the harbour to tell Thorgrimm’s men they will be most welcome here. And maybe…. maybe the Franks will watch as ell and grow red in their faces?”

Slapping his leg, Sinold laughed a bellowing , roaring laugh, really starting to enjoy himself.

[Sinold Bragasson]

After he had helped bring out the injured from the Windstorm infirmary, Sinold left quickly to get out the word about the picnic to his new-found kin and friend on Thorgrimm’s ships. Throwing a simple blanket over Ligea’s back, Sinold leisurely rode down to the harbour, to the Goélette, and there extended his invitation to the Norse who manned that ship. He lured them with promises of fine food and ale, and with the promise that they would see the most beautiful maids in the whole of the realm there.

“You may look to your heart’s delight, even though you cannae touch!” He laughed and awaited the men’s response to his invitation.

(Sorry this is so short, am on the run home, more or less, and wanted to make certain that the Varangians are on board, so to speak )

[Lady Edfeil]

*Her laughter clattered like a brook when she saw Ellissia avail herself of her mothers skirts for a hiding place. The lass grew with each moon and the bloom of health and happiness upon her cheeks was a delight to those that loved her. Kindness and misschief went hand in hand in the girl that combined the beauty of mother and father within her countenance. And with her sunny nature and sense of kind adventure, Ellissia reminded her of Lady Beren when she was young.

Her eyes warmed even more when she saw the small procession led by lady Halethala. God bless her kind heart in thinking of those recovering. Aye, they would find place amidst the feasting, and tell stories to the young, and find strength and healing in those that surounded them. Merriment indeed was a strong healer.

Lady Edfeil looked at the work of her hands, crowns of flowers had formed, but one had nae a flower indeed. Only by greens was 't formed, and she'ld used the slender supple branches of the French willow as a base, with leaves of ivy and hawthorn intermingling, and bound with flax. She lay 't aside in quiet hope of one more to participate.

Her eyes followed sweet Ellissia as she saw her starting forward with the basket of petals, her mothers hand firmly in hers and the expression 'pon her face both sweet and determined. Though her breath nae halted the windstorm lady could nae but follow the path with her eyes to see the encounter.

[Sinold Bragasson]

Soon, Sinold was back at the castle and within the gardens. The knowledge that his Letha was there made him spur Ligea on faster… how he longed for her closeness!

Thus, the gardens soon had the tall Norse again, his feet bringing him to Letha as surely as the sun travelled around the earth. He took her into his arms, smiling down at her.

“Missed me, beloved?”

[Dream Loxley]

*Her welcome was one of both gratitude and compassion as she smiled to the men.....both Viking and locals alike had bonded and become as one in their loyalty. She felt humble in the presence of such honourable and couragous men....and she told them as much as she moved between them, lifting a blanket here and there with a promise of a wonderful day to come. The servants mingled amongst them all offering tankards of ale and cider....the gesture helping to ease the men and allow them to relax as she had hoped.

Ellissia extended a small hand filled with rose petals to one man who had his left arm bandaged and held securely within a sling. He looked at her a while.....as if it was his own daughter he was seeing before him. His lightly coloured eyes became moist as his lips formed a smile, cracked dry lips surrounded by a blonde beard, tinged now with grey...perhaps from the past weeks battle.

He spoke in his native tongue, but none needed to understand as he reached out with a large hand.....fingers that had grasped swords and all manner of weapons, crusted dry skin bronzed from the sun now held rose petals. Soft simple petals, perhaps symbolising peace and calm. He smiled more as the little one giggled and grinned......she touched his hand and whispered softly. Her words told of how the petals would make him better, but of course he did not understand...he simply smiled and watched her as she moved away to be closer to her Mother. He felt better though... much better already.

The Chatelaine glanced about, glad to see Halethala with her betrothed and Edfeil enjoying the sunshine. She was about to tend to more of the men when a stable lad beckoned her over to him......she took Ellissia by the hand and spoke with him a moment before slipping quietly back into the Castle. There was a messenger waiting he told her......and it was urgent.*

[Halethala]

She blushed at first, even after all this time still unused to such public displays of his passions, especially in front of the Varangians . . but she simply laughed at herself and gripped his face tightly between her hands as she met his kisses eagerly ~ his taste, his scent, the sensation of his closeness releasing a dam of long held restraint needful to bear their separation ~ blinking back unexpected tears as she beamed back up into his smiling eyes. "I had fenced back my yearning for ye so long now, I have nearly forgotten just how much . . "

She watched him ride off then to the harbor, a twinge of wistful longing to follow on her poor neglected Varda, yet knew it was perhaps still not safe for such endeavors quite yet. She turned, biting the edge of her lip in amusement to see the hardened warriors so quietly meek and docile at the tiny angelic ambassador of cheer as she parceled out her magic . . accepting Ellissia's petals as if they were a full season's wages! Could there have been any more charming gesture to settle their fears of acceptance amongst the family here at Windstorm? They were so far from their home shores . . and had suffered so much . . so many had . . how could they ever thank them? A day of beautiful sunshine and feasting would be a good start.

She took the chance to slip away and change into a more festive frock, the lovely blue gown Lady Andrea had gifted her with, wincing as she slipped it over her head, whispering a prayer once again that the stars would guide the good lady home again safely, wherever she had gone. Breathless from her rapid descent, she moved close to the Chatelaine as she stood watching her daughter, soft maternal pride glowing on her lovely face . . "Lady Dream . . This will be a day to remember, for many a year, and many a folk, I would safely wager . . ye've already brought such a joy to so many, and the day has hardly begun! Thank ye . . " Reaching to grasp one of her hands, she squeezed it gratefully, smiling . .

She moved amongst the men for a time, inquiring if she could fetch something for any of them, stooping to check a bandage on the quiet one, Volond, which seems to have begun seeping a bit more than it should. Satisfied it had merely been strained from his walking, and had now stopped, not needing to be changed until he returned to the infirmary later, she stood to scan the grounds for Lady Rayven, hoping she could come away and enjoy the day for a while as well . .

Spotting Lady Edfeil putting the finishing touches on her floral creations . . looking into her eyes as she set aside one bereft of blooms . . nodding knowingly . .

Soon familiar arms encircled her again, and she tipped her face to the warmth of sun and sweet love . . reaching up to gently twist around her finger the tiny colorful braid nestled in his golden mane. "What have ye here, Deorheorte? Decked as prettily as the ponies . . yet I wager it be another of your lovely Norse customs? Hmmmm . . blue and green . . perhaps for the sea and earth that nurture us with life? We've much to celebrate . . "

[The wounded Varangians]

AT THE PICNIC.

The sunlight streamed down the gardens of Windstorm Castle, the subtle scents of the roses and the delicious aromas of the foods mingled on the warm airs.
The picnic which the Ladies of the Castle had spent so much time preparing was well under way. The Gardens were filled with the buzz of conversation, the clinking of plates and the bright gaiety of laughter.
All the wounded Varangians had come down from the Infirmary, even Thjalfi Roskvasson had been brought out on a litter. While Thjalfi still walked with the shades, there was much hope. His wounds were healing and his fevers had abated. His comrades gathered around and talked quietly to him, making sure that he ate and drank at least a little of the sumptuous dishes that had been prepared.
Skymir Gormsson rubbed the place where a Frankish spear had pierced his chest and took a long pull at his tankard of mead. He grinned. “By the Gods, this was just what he needed.” He leant over and coaxed Thjalfi to take another sip.
Bure Grimhilt was lying on a blanket nursing his wounded arm, the boarding axe had bitten deep but the warmth of the sun was easing the pain. He looked up to see a small child holding out her closed hand to him and he froze. His slight blurred as memories sprang up, she looked just like little Freja had when he last saw her five long years ago. “And what have you there, small one?” He smiled. Ellissia did not understand the Norse; instead she softly deposited a pile of rose petals into Bure’s palm. He grinned and nodded as her laughter and her lilting voice wove a spell that banished all the aches from his body. His spellbound gaze followed her as she moved away to spread her special gift to others in need.
Hodur Hardrada lay back and let the scents and sounds wash over him. The sun felt good on his face, he could feel its energy renewing his strength and driving the chill from his bones.
Braga Almgren, Volund Sigarshelm and Helge Hjorvardsson stretched out on their blankets and passed a pitcher of mead around. Their wounds were healing and they were hopeful that the Lady Rayven or the Lady Halethela would soon be pleased enough with their recovery to allow them to rejoin their friends aboard “Aesgard”.
Until that time, they would enjoy all that the day would bring. Hopefully Thorgrimm and some of the other Varangians would be coming to join the party, then they could laugh, eat, drink, trade news and tell stories.
Helge began to hum softly and slowly the rest of the Norsemen took up the refrain. This was no loud battle song but a gentle melody that spoke of home, of the beauty of the fjords, of a land with its vibrant colours and of the loved ones who waited by the hearth fires. It spoke of a longing, of the ache of parting and the joy of return. It was not just a song, it was a feeling.
The Varangians passed the mead pitcher around as they continued to sing softly, each was caught up in his own thoughts and grateful for the kindness of those who had made the effort to bring this wonderful day to life.

[Rayven]

((Apologies for not posting recently, but real time has kept me busy. I hope I am not too late to post on this thread. ))


A shaft of sunlight was streaming through the hangings of the bed as I stirred and stretched in a pool of living gold. I had slept long past dawn, and the entire palace was awake, the busy hum and stir reaching me comfortably from below.

Slowly I uncurled myself among the sunbeams and lay exploring my thoughts.

It seemed lately as if each day had brought sadness as word of more wounded on their way to Windstorm reached me. But today the dead weight of despair seemed less heavy on my heart, and a dim feeling of duty done brought a comfort to my soul.

I stretched my arms wide, sat up and swung my feet to the floor, then leaped to my feet, throwing the curtains back and looked down on the picnic scene unfolding below.

The sun was out, there was not a cloud in the sky and the smell of food being prepared wafted up to me and made my mouth watered.

Some days come like pearls on a chain, so perfect that you treasure them ever afterwards.

This would be one of those days.

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

A BRIEF RESPITE.

Thorgrimm Halfdane rested his back against the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak tree and allowed the warm sunlight to explore his upturned face.
All around him people moved, talked, sang and laughed. The long-planned picnic was in full swing. He took another swig from his drinking horn, the mead flowed smoothly down his throat and added its warmth to that of the sun. Thorgrimm placed his empty platter on the ground beside him and gazed around the gardens; people strolled through the rose bushes or took their ease on the well manicured lawns. Servants moved among the throng carrying well stacked platters or full pitchers of drink.
After he had finalised his parley with the Frankish lord, Lamont Duchesne, Thorgrimm had been drawn to the gardens by the sounds of Norse voices raised in quiet song. He had arrived just in time to add his voice to the closing chorus. His men had been very pleased to see him and had greeted his arrival with shouts and broad grins as he moved among them. They had all gathered around and plied him with food and drink while he had answered their many questions.
As other Varangians arrived and were welcomed by their comrades, Thorgrimm had taken the opportunity to slip away to this quiet place under the old oak’s spreading arms, which was where Ragnar Olafson found him. He knelt down and delivered his message to Thorgrimm, who nodded, smiled and waved him away with orders to go enjoy himself.
While his youthful messenger moved off to mingle with the other Vikings, Thorgrimm leant back against the bole of the tree and gazed around the gardens, he could see Sinold and Lady Halethela in deep conversation beside one of Sinold’s ponies, Lady Edfiel putting the finishing touches to a piece of embroidery and Lady Dream’s daughter, Ellissia, as she spread rose petals and smiles all around. He looked over to where his own men were gathered, some were still singing, others were engaged in telling stories, but it was good to see the smiles on their faces once more. Thjalfi’s brother and nephew were sitting beside the wounded man’s litter and even he was showing a bit more interest in life. Haldar Bluetooth had come up from the trebuchets; Trygg Bloodaxe had stayed behind still suffering from his last spree with his cousin, Torla. Svien Skildbiter was there along with men from the longships.
Thorgrimm smiled, his men seemed to realise that he needed some time apart. He could feel the tension and the weariness of the past days beginning to flow out of his limbs as the warm sunlight spread around him.
Thorgrimm raised his drinking horn to the Lady Rayven when she entered the gardens and he watched as the Lady Loxley quietly left. There was something about the look on her face that pricked his senses but he could not quite put his finger on it. Then a gust of loud Viking laughter took his attention.
He let the hum of conversation and the pleasant scents of the day to wash over him. He drew his cloak about his legs and closed his eyes, the now empty drinking horn slipped from his fingers and Thorgrimm slept.

[Sinold Bragasson]

Norse were rough men with rough manners, and anyone looking on as Sinold slightly kicked Captain Thorgrimm into his side with his boot would have assumed that the tall blonde windstorm Norse was going to pick a fight with the Captain of the Varangians.

Nothing could be further from the truth though. After another, a bit harder kick against one of his legs, Thorgrimm indeed seem to wake up finally, looking up at a smiling Sinold who held two mugs with strong ale in his hands.

“Aaah, finally I got you awake. You sleep when profit could be made? Tststs…” Sinold held out one mug to Thorgrimm, waited until the sitting man had taken the offered drink, then sat down next to him, taking a long draught form his mug.

“What a splendid occasion to celebrate our victory over them pesky Franks, eh? It is good to see the ladies out again, and happy! “ Another large swill from his mug rushed down Sinold’s throat “We wouldn’t have defeated those fobs as soundly if you and your men hadn’t been here! We all owe you a great deal, especially since you have lost a few men in the skirmish. They’ll be with Odin now, feasting by his side and drinking themselves silly! … No doubt you will retrieve some weregild from those Franks, but apart from gold there are others things that can make a man happy.”

Sinold looked over to where Letha stood and smiled wistfully, then took another draft from his mug. “Say… are ye a married man already? Any wife and kids waiting for yer return home to you lands? …. You would be a good catch for any woman, or lady here. And if you’d play your cards right, there would certainly be a lady here, within Windstorm, whom your charms would persuade to become a loyal companion to you, no?”

He grinned at the older man sitting next to him, then scanned the garden again to see if Lady Beren, Windstorm’s minstrel, had arrived already. If one was trying to hook up a man with a woman, it always was helpful if the intended was present, Sinold mused to himself.