Preparing for the Picnic

[Vinzelles de Sennis]

He stood upon one of the ramparts that overlooked the gardens of windstorm. His hands were firmly placed behind his back, his eyes scanning the activities down below I the gardens, the sounds of laughter and many voices reaching his ears.

There were Vikings everywhere, and the strange thing was that the Windstorm ladies seemed not to be afraid in the slightest. He even saw one of the northern barbarians come up to one of them and kiss her!

“Things have grown so cosy for them already… as if they could not kill a fly. My men are digging the graves for their comrades and these people are celebrating! How blinded must these people be? Why can’t they see the dangers? Why not?”

Vinzelles de Sennis looked on, trying not to look away. To see was to know, looking away and running from unpleasantries was a sure way to lose. His gaze finally fall upon one of the ladies he had come to know a little bit – Lady Dream. She was playing with a child, maybe her own, she laughed…

All of a sudden, Vinzelles was transported back to a time not so long ago, when he had seen Yvette during a feast. How he had enjoyed her laughter, her sharp wit! She had worn a beautiful dark green dress then, and Vinzelles had not left her side that evening … or night.

“She should have lived to have children, like lady Loxley!” There was an enormous bitterness in his tone, he didn’t care of the guards who always accompanied him when he moved about the castle, heard him or not. For the time being the Frank councillor forced himself to look on – a way for him to escape to a happier time in his life.

[Midnight]

Walking out into the Garden Area black ears flickering lightly I walk up to Lady Dream and rub against her leg softly while purring lowly. Black ears always flickering as I listen to all the different sounds in the garden. I let out a low and friendly cats yowl to all

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

A RUDE AWAKENING.

The insistent nudging at his side slowly brought Thorgrimm Halfdane out of his deep sleep under spreading limbs of the ancient oak tree.
His body was telling him to ignore the annoyance and to slip back down into the soft velvet darkness where he had been floating so restfully. Eyes still closed, he pulled his cloak around him and resettling himself, tried to sink back into those quiet depths but the nudging moved to his shin and become more insistent.
Thorgrimm slowly opened one eye and looked up at the source of the annoyance. Sinold Bragasson stood smiling down on him, two tankards in his hands. Sinold laughed, as Thorgrimm resisted his waking urge to kick the Islendigan in his nether regions, and handed down one of the mugs. As Thorgrimm took the proffered tankard, he became aware that a watchful silence had settled over the nearby Varangians. Their wary frowns were directed at Sinold; Thorgrimm smiled and took a long sip of the ale, reassured the Vikings resumed their songs and laughter.
Sinold settled himself comfortably at Thorgrimm’s side and spoke about the victory over the Franks and other related matters.
“Do not speak too soon; the victory is not yet complete.” Thorgrimm warned.
“Aye my friend, those who fell will soon journey to Valhalla’s golden halls to take their places with the Heroes.” He smiled at the memories of those who had crossed the Rainbow Bridge and nodded. “The All-Father has them in his care and there will be mead and fine blood pudding for all.”
When the Islendigan mentioned profit and a wergild, Thorgrimm laughed.
“Profit I will seek later but the Wergild, for the most part, has been paid. The Franks quibbled and whined about the amount, yet at the end, they had no choice but to agree to my terms. Their gold is now secured abroad “Valkyrie”
He gazed skyward, letting the warm sunlight fall fully on his face.
“Those families back in Ravensgard who have lost loved ones will be well compensated.”
Thorgrimm took another sip of his ale as Sinold spoke of his fiancée, the Lady Halethala, and then enquired about the Norseman’s marital status
“No, I am still unwed.” He frowned lightly at a sudden memory. “My parents and my grandsire, the Jarl, had selected a bride for me. We were to be wed when I returned from Byzantium, but she was lost when her father’s longship went down in a storm. That was just before I left Ravensgard and I have had no word that another match has been arranged. When last I heard from Jarl Guthrum Forkbeard, my grandfather, he gave me leave to find my own lifemate.”
Thorgrimm laughed off Sinold’s romantic attempt at matchmaking as he let the pleasantness of the gathering wash over him.
“I have little to offer but myself and my dragonships. Which Lady here would want a wandering Varangian such as me for a mate? My grandsire is in full and robust health as is Gunnar Finehair, my father. It will be many years before I ascend to my place as Jarl in Ravensgard.” Grinning, he shook his head. “That is if I survive the battles.”
Sinold smiled thoughtfully and gazed around the Gardens as if searching for someone. Thorgrimm learnt back against the gnarled bark of the old tree and allowed himself to dream.

[Sinold Bragasson]

(OOC: This comes before Sinny heads off to meet with Thorgrimm. Just so peeps get the chain of picnic events right


She had asked and Sinold was glad she had asked him. Taking Letha’s hands into his, he kissed her onto her soft lips again – could one ever kiss a woman too much? Naaah, he thought – and then toyed a little with the ribbons he wore.

“Aaah, you have tried to explain the ribbons quite well already, although not quite correctly. The blue stands for the sea and sky, both encircling the earth, as a lover’s arms encircle his bride’s waist. The green is for the green pastures of summer, representing richness and growing, just as a man’s child grows within his wife’s belly! I wear these to tell the world I am taken… by you!” Sinold grinned brightly, then began to draw Letha a bit away from the others, to one of the more secluded trees. He started to nibble on her left ear, whispering into them lovingly.

“Indeed we have much to celebrate, my Unnasta! We have survived, and we are alive. I so wish to show you how alive I am…*he pressed her closer towards him. “I have missed you, more than I can express right now. These past few weeks… they should have been filled with preparations for our wedding and here I was, not being much around. Will you forgive me, my Letha?” He kissed her yet again, deeply, urgently, as if to catch up on all those days without having her close. “I do need to speak with Thorgrimm for a little bit, but what do ya say if we … sneak away for a bit, afterwards? Just you and I? Hmm? To… catch up on things?”

[Lady Edfeil]

*for a moment she feared the peace of the event would be disturbed when she saw Sinold kick Thorgrimm. She closed her eyes, already straightening and trying to stand to come in between the fight that was sure to follow. But then... things changed as if even they knew this day was one for peace and joy.

She looked around and breathed in the air, waving at Lady Rayven, and averting her head with a blush and a grin as she saw Sinold and Halethala showing how much indeed they cared for eachother. Her brow furrowed as she searched for Lady Dream but could nae find her. Still... she shrugged off the nagging sensation of unpleasantness with the tought she surely was gone to get more food. More drink mayhap.

Rising to her feet now, she walked to the Vangarians and offered each one of the wreaths of flowers she had made. She was nervous in their company still, nae accostumed to the ways of the men of war. But each of them had bled for her homeland. Nae matter how much she wished she had had the chance to avoid such... They had suffered to keep those of her family safe...

In a gesture of both care and gratitude, she offered them the crowns of laurels and blooms, a meager reward, but her father would see to 't that there was more....*

[The Varangians at the Picnic]

SONGS AND BRIGHT FLOWERS.

Sinold Bragasson would never know how close he came to standing in harm’s way.
A wary, watchful hush fell over the assembled Varangians when they saw him nudging at Thorgrimm Halfdane’s sleeping form with his boot.
Eyes grew hard and faces grim as hands slid slowly down to the hilts of swords or grasped axe handles. The Vikings prepared to take the Islendigan to task for taking such liberties with their beloved leader, but when Thorgrimm took the tankard that Sinold had offered him, took a long pull at the ale within and smiled, they all relaxed.
Thus reassured, Thorgrimm’s men resumed their interrupted singing. The surroundings were pleasant, the food was better than anything they had tasted in a long time, there was plenty of mead, the wounded were recovering and thoughts of battle were fading into the sunlight of the day. They lifted their voices in another melody, a folk song, a song of home and hearth fires.
The wounded Norsemen saw the Lady Rayven enter the Gardens and shouted for her to join them. They wanted to thank her for all the care she had given them in aiding their recovery; they also wanted to find out when she would consider them well enough to return to the company of their comrades.
Another Lady, the King’s daughter, approached them.
The Varangians were entranced by her quiet beauty and fell silent as she moved amongst them. They saw her nervousness at their fearsome size and battle hardened looks, trying to allay her fears as they humbly accepted the garlands of laurel and bright flowers that she presented to them.
To show their thanks for the Lady’s gesture, the Varangians broke into another song. They knew that she would not understand the words but they hoped that she would feel the joy of the tune and might be at peace.

[Rayven]

When I was dressed and my hair neatly plaited I made my way downstairs and to the door leading to the garden.

The day was neither chill nor warm. There was no wind. The sky was a pale blue, a smudge of thin white clouds showing indicating a change in the weather to come. The sun was watery, but shone brightly as it could under the circumstances. It would set early, for it was now autumn and the days were growing shorter.

The garden was beautiful this day. The herb gardens were neat, the small flowering trees and bushes as well as the roses were pruned perfectly, awaiting the winter that was soon to come.

In keeping with the beautiful fall day, tables had been set up on the lawn of the palace and as guests found their seats, some on the lawn shaded by the trees, others in benches by the tables, the servants ran back and forth from the kitchens with platters and bowls. There were any number of roasted birds, ducks and capons; there were meat pies, artichokes that had been steamed in white wine; braised lettuces; new peas; and breads and butter and several varieties of cheese.

Archery butts had been set up on the lawn and some of the men competed showing off their skills with the bow.

I saw Cap’n Thorgrimm speaking with some of his men. He looked up and waved at me. I waved back and made my way over towards him.

He had a broad smile on his face, one that I had not seen since the outbreak of war with the Francs.

Many of the men who had laid at the brink of death a few short weeks ago now sat up on cots that had been brought out especially for them. Despite the pallor that still covered their face from their confinement in the infirmary, their eyes seemed to sparkle and their laughter could be heard echoing across the vast lawn.

It did my heart good to hear them laugh and to know that all would soon be traveling to their homeland and loved ones.