Chapter 15: Traditions
The silence was eerie, and all the more because literally everyone besides Stevie and Anahera had gathered. Pitaajee even held Rangi on his hip while they watched, and Dezzie sobbed with her hands over her ears. Sometime during this debacle Rosie had collapsed, crying, into Gran's skirt.
The rider must have sensed something amiss, because he stopped several yards short of us and led his horse in on foot. "Is everything alright here?" Stithulf asked cautiously. He scanned the area and clearly noticed the hole I was digging, then looked again at the gathering.
Dezzie flew at him with a small screech, still sobbing, and nearly knocked him over.
"No, but nothing can be done about any of it, so let's just say yes," Aunt Libby answered briskly, "Hello, Stithulf. Sorry, you arrived on a very bad day. What's the news?" She tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.
Now that I could sort of breathe again, I returned to digging. This arm needed to get buried nice and deep before dark when the wolves would come sniffing.
"A reminder from Theoden King about the wedding traditions that were agreed to," Stithulf answered cautiously, "And arranging my own."
Damn, that was two gifts I forgot to buy. I flushed guiltily about forgetting Dezzie's wedding.
"Yes, we do need to talk about that. Would it be possible to delay until tomorrow, though? We can get on it with breakfast," Aunt Libby offered.
"Of course. It is rather late, after all," Stithulf agreed.
"Come over this way, we've got some straw left and a sack for you. Are you hungry? Dinner was on when I left," Aunt Libby was saying, voice fading as she walked Stithulf away to the house. I heard many feet follow them, thank gods.
When I glanced over, I was alone. Only Gander was left, lying down beside Stevie's arm but showing no interest in it whatsoever. His extended whine was made all the more pitiful by his enormous size.
I paused in digging to scratch behind his ears. "Sorry, buddy. That was bad, wasn't it?" I murmured.
Of course there was no reply, aside from his tongue peeking out to give my wrist a tiny lap.
Back to work, and according to the length of my shovel I only needed another foot. Good; I was dirty and sweaty and wanted nothing more than a wash.
I was so damn tired. It had little to do with travel or digging; it had everything to do with the ache in my chest, the heaviness of my head. Fighting with my sisters was always draining but this particular conflict had a special quality.
If Stithulf had bad news then he would have said that first I would think, without delay, so that was a small blessing. Now it was just wedding traditions and arrangements to deal with; happy stress. How could I forget about Dezzie's wedding, though? Even if we weren't very close, she was still my sister.
And lord only knew that everybody else forgot about her plenty of the time. As her closest-in-age sister, I had often been the one to hear her news and give advice and help problem-solve; we and Brise always got so lost in the shuffle. How could I drift like that?
Absently I wondered how Brise was doing. Was she making it alright in Minas Tirith? Would she be able to make it to the wedding? Seeing her again would be nice.
When the end shovel was several inches below ground, I stopped with the digging. "Sorry," I apologized to the forearm and dropped it into the bottom of the hole. Before I could do something weird like try to compose a eulogy, I began filling in the hole.
Gander decided to help then and with his paws shoved dirt back into the hole. That made work quicker and it was mostly filled out before he got distracted by something to the north. Something that made him bark out into the night.
Wearily I looked over and saw a dark figure moving in the blue of night. Moonlight revealed a bow, quiver, and pack on their back, and they were moving oddly; a left arm was held to their chest like it was injured.
Maybe it was a little late to fill in the arm-hole, I thought wryly. Hopefully not. "Hello, there!" I called to them.
"Hello," the figure called back, an unfamiliar male, "I am Beornraed of the Dunedain. My chieftain told us that we could seek shelter with the van der Zees of Tharbad if needed, and I am injured." He stumbled hilariously on our surname.
"Who's this chieftain?" I asked cautiously.
"He said that you would know him as Strider," Beornraed answered.
That cleared things up nicely; Dunedain must have been a term for the rangers. "Friends of Strider's are friends of mine," I declared happily, shoveling the last of the dirt back where it belonged, "Let me pat this down and I'll show you to the house." To tamp it down I hit it with the shovel several times before walking all over it to solidify it further. Hopefully that would keep any animals from getting at it.
When I looked up, Beornraed was giving Gander some good head scratches, so I figured that he was alright after all. Even if my judgement could suck, I trusted the dogs. "He likes you. Good," I told the ranger stranger.
"He is a noble animal," Beornraed replied, straightening up from his crouch with a hiss, "I am not sure I have seen such a large hound before."
Waving for him to follow me, I started off toward home. "Before him, I hadn't either," I confessed, "My aunt's hunting dogs are a similar height but they're not nearly as stocky. We didn't know what breed this big guy was when he was a puppy, or that he'd get nearly this big." I was grateful, though, now that all was said and done. Newfoundlands were excellent for all the things he was needed for here: fishing help, guard duty, companionship, and keeping me from fucking freezing in the winter.
"I love animals but I do not get to handle them much," Beornraed told me as he turned his head this way and that to examine the ruins.
"You've come to the right place," I said as we approached the dimly lit tower, "Gander and the hunting and herding dogs tend to sleep in the house with us, so you can pet them as much as you want."
More nervously, Beornraed asked, "I was told that one of your sisters is afraid of visitors. Will it be a problem for me to stay the night?"
Darkly, I chuckled. "She's afraid of half the family and everything bigger than the herding dogs. It doesn't matter, really." Of course Strider would have warned his people about Cressie. She needed her own caution sign, along with radiation and explosives.
"Oh." A beat. "And the rest?" Beornraed questioned awkwardly.
"Totally fine as long as you're not a murderer," I answered and opened the front door to announce, "We have another guest!"
"Is it Strider?" Matt asked hopefully from where he sat at Mackey's feet.
"Nope! This is a different ranger, Beornraed," I introduced, clapping the man on the uninjured shoulder, "Mackey, Aditi, he's injured."
Understandably, Mackey groaned. "As long as we don't have to amputate again," she muttered and scooted her fiance so she could stand.
Aditi was quicker, appearing almost magically in front of Beornraed. "Hello, there. I'm Aditi. Can I look at the injury?" she requested with a smile.
His brow wrinkled as he scanned her face, but whatever his issue was, he fixed it shortly and returned a quirk of his lips. "Please." Near the door he began shedding his equipment, settling it all neatly against a wall. Pack, blanket, bow and quiver, sword belt with sword and dagger, then finally his long leather coat.
The second we hit Edoras, I was commissioning an awesome leather trench coat, I decided.
"Here, into the other room," Mackey urged, marching Beornraed into the newly established medical ward the second he hung his coat on a peg.
Aditi followed dutifully, and I entered the room but made a bee-line for Stevie. "Any changes?" I asked Anahera hopefully.
"He's less restless and the fever is gone," she reported, sitting beside his shoulder. A glance at Beornraed, currently being pestered out of his shirt, betrayed her curiosity.
"A ranger, Beornraed. He's injured but it doesn't look nearly as bad as Stevie," I told her.
A quick examination showed that already Stevie was doing better, just as Anahera said. No blood but the linens still needed replacing, saturated by white blood cells. "Can you get me more bandages and the honey?" I asked Anahera.
For the first time that day, she left the room.
Listening in on my sisters, I was right in that the injury was relatively minor. Beornraed hissed and jerked when the slice across his upper arm was cleaned, but a generally cooperative patient as he was sewn up. A small band of orcs had apparently attacked a few of the rangers but his was the only injury; his fellows had to report and he was within a day of us, so he was trusted to make the journey alone.
"Looks like we need to get that other building up to scratch faster than we thought," I commented casually from where I sat at my cousin's hip, "Soon we're gonna need a full guest house." The idea made me laugh with delight; after so long with just family, I finally fully appreciated the company of strangers.
"Perhaps a different building," Aditi suggested sensibly, "Stevie's already lost an arm from that one, we don't need to lose any lives on top of it."
"What we really need is a stone mason to see if these ruins are safe," Mackey added.
We only had a carpenter in the form of Aunt Libby and for right now, she was the best we would get.
"What drew you to these ruins?" Beornraed asked quietly.
"A silver star on a map," Aditi answered with a self depreciating sort of chuckle, "We figured that it was as good as anywhere else to settle, and maybe it was even where we needed to be." She looked up at him with smiling dark eyes from where she was bandaging him. "I think we may have been right," she said, not quite to him or the rest of us.
Quickly it was agreed that since Stithulf was the uninjured one, he would be banished to the reaches of the tower Stevie and Anahera usually inhabited; Rangi and his little grain sack of a bed were brought downstairs where he proceeded to grab happily onto Stithulf's nose when they were introduced. I sniggered quietly at Rangi's later interest in Beornraed's short black beard.
Only for informational purposes was Cressie called down from her own room and introduced her and Rosie to Beornraed, then reminded her of who Stithulf was. That way she wouldn't assume an intruder, even if it did mean that she barred her door more tightly than usual. From a couple floors down I heard the scraping of her dragging something heavy in front of the door- probably the chest of drawers.
I made sure to let both Beornraed and Anahera know that if anything changes, I was just upstairs and to wake me at the first sign of trouble.
Despite everything, the night passed peacefully.
Breakfast was a bit more contentious; I arrived to Gran berating Aunt Libby for agreeing to this, Dezzie arguing in Aunt Libby's defense, Cressie having gathered her courage to agree with Gran, and Stithulf simply sitting awkwardly in the midst of the whirlwind. "Everybody cool your heels, what's going on?" I urged as I lazily staggered down the final steps.
"For some reason, your aunt agreed to a ceremonial kidnapping," Gran snapped, eyes never wavering from her daughter.
"It's only ceremonial. Anyone who actually kidnaps anyone is charged for it and usually loses a hand," Aunt Libby replied indifferently, "They agreed to it, so what right do we have to stop it?" She waved a hand at the twins and Dezzie in a wide arc.
"Because it's dehumanizing and turns women into objects to be stolen for a man's pleasure," Cressie answered in that tone that made me wonder if I dribbled on my shirt. Even if I didn't have my bowl yet.
"If I said no to this then you wouldn't, right?" Dezzie asked her fiance.
He became the proverbial deer in the headlights. "Your body is your own," Stithulf answered cautiously, "If you changed your mind about this, then we can skip it for the modern tradition- if you still want me?" Was that hope or fear in his expression?
"Of course I still want you," Dezzie assured him, leaning in for a kiss that made him flush, even though it was a simple peck to the lips, "I just had to prove a point."
"Hey Andy, any issues with your future husband proving himself by arranging with us to steal you for a few days before the real ceremony?" Aunt Libby called, interrupting the whispering.
"Looking forward to it," Andy replied with a grin that only portended trouble.
Aunt Libby shrugged with a smile.
Gran sighed and shook her head in exasperation. "I suppose." She eyed Stithulf in a rather frightening way before she moved back to the porridge over the fire.
"Are you really sure about this?" Cressie asked Dezzie, "I mean, if they've got to prove themselves by stealing a wife, what will real life be like-"
"I get that you're worried about me, but stop trying to change my mind," Dezzie interrupted.
Visibly offended, Cressie raised her hands in surrender. "Don't try telling me you didn't know," she replied, "I'm not having anything to do with this." Of course she then took Rosie by the hand, stormed upstairs, and I heard the chest moving again.
"Don't worry about her," Aunt Libby told a rather disturbed Stithulf, "Just respect Dezzie and you'll be fine." She patted his shoulder congenially. "Porridge?"
It had the first strawberries of the year cut up into it and was a fantastic change from apples, no matter how I love those. After a while you just get tired of the same stuff, you know.
"Can we throw her into the river and see if she floats?" Electra grumbled into her bowl while she fed Aaron.
Grandpa gave her one of those disapproving looks. "She knows how to swim," he reminded her.
"Not with her hands tied," Electra replied with a frankly evil grin.
"Gander would save her anyways," I added. The one time Liam fell into the river Gander had dove in immediately and dragged him to shore by the back of his collar.
"Alright, back to business!" Aunt Libby said loudly, letting us know that our joking scheming was over, "So it's a fake kidnapping, and we're expected to pursue. How long?"
"Until the third night," Stithulf answered, relieved now that things were back on track, "If you catch us before that then there will be a duel; if I lose then I will have to pay a further amount than the bride price already is, and if I win then any disputes over the marriage going ahead are usually quelled."
It was so difficult to keep from cackling. Life hadn't been this exciting since Bree!
"I was sent ahead for a last-minute confirmation and a warning that it will begin after sunset tonight. We have three days to steal our brides and a further three days of hard travel ahead," Stithulf continued, standing once his bowl was empty, "For that, I must be away to see to my part in the plot." He smiled brightly at Dezzie and acquiesced to another short peck before, with nods of respect to the elders, he put his gear on and left.
"Tricky," Andy said, half accusing and half admiring, "Now he knows the town and house layout."
Aunt Libby's green eyes met my hazel ones, and she gave me a sneaky smile. "Now we have time to prepare," she murmured.
As soon as the dishes were washed, we sprang into action. Andy rarely left her twin's side anyways and I was assigned to Dezzie's, none of us to venture further than the edges of town for the next three days and be inside by sunset. Hiding places and escape routes were planned. When we play, we play hard; we play to win.
I took the opportunity to spend some time with my most-ignored sister. She was terrified of the future, she told me in a whisper when no one else was around, but at least she'd have a husband who loved her. A peaceful life without being overloaded by noise or the speed of everything, and eventually, with children of her own.
To be honest, I was more afraid of the "children" part of her statement than the rest. She hadn't exactly been great at helping raise Brise, Electra, or Liam, and really I'd been the one who always looked after her. But at least this way she'd have a village to back her up instead of her super-dysfunctional family.
Released from working in the fields or gardens, we instead looked after the poultry and helped Gran with the cooking. I even began to take up weaving on a flat loom that Aunt Libby had made a couple months earlier.
On the first day, there was nothing.
On the second day, there was nothing.
On the third day, I found myself being yanked into a ruin while a running blur took Dezzie away in a fireman's lift.
Automatically I punched upward as I was swung around, satisfied to hear a grunt of pain as my fist connected with a large nose. While he was nursing that, I made sure to knee him in the stomach.
He caught my knee on the way back, throwing me off balance, but I grabbed his shoulders before he could take me off my feet entirely. To secure myself, I wrapped my free leg around his waist. Oh, this was going to hurt, I told myself, dreading it before I even rammed my forehead into his jaw.
"What the devil, woman?!"
Wait, I recognized that voice. I always was better with voices than faces.
It didn't stop me from giving him the good old Vulcan nerve pinch with both hands, which is surprisingly well rooted in pressure points.
I fully expected him to drop me, but I didn't expect him to entirely drop to the floor. With a squeak I released one shoulder to try to push him off me.
Instead he collapsed on top of me, clearly expecting to be too heavy to move. To his surprise I managed to roll us so that I was on top. It was easier for him to do the same, since he was a few dozen pounds heavier than me, not counting the chainmail I could feel under his jerkin. We rolled like that into the street, struggling for dominance. I continued punching him in the sides the whole way.
Only in the half-light of evening was I able to confirm with my eyes, what my ears couldn't quite believe: Boromir of Gondor was in Tharbad. And I had bloodied his nose.
Here I thought telling his dad to go fuck himself was bad, I thought.
For good measure I pulled his hair, but he slammed my hand down against the cobbles and I let go with a hiss. The other hand soon joined it, held in place by his own much larger one.
In one last try, I used my leg and back strength to arch upward and hopefully push him off to the side. Instead he collapsed again and my strength was done.
Gasping, I conceded the match. "Fuck," I muttered; nobody would ever let me live this down.
He panted warm against my shoulder where our wrestling had stretched my shirt. At least he was also out of breath. "Do you yield?" he questioned, raising his head.
"Unfortunately," I muttered sourly.
Were his eyes always that bright of a blue?
I tried ignoring that I had somebody between my legs for the first time in nearly two years. I really tried. But unfortunately he was a rather attractive man and on top of me, and my blood was up.
Damn my hormones.
"She may, but you're surrounded," Aunt Libby announced with satisfaction, "So either you yield, or you two get a damn room and then you yield." She held her axe rather threateningly.
Mortified, I got a burst of strength to push him off. There's nothing like family to ruin a mood.
Boromir tumbled willingly off of me and onto his back, hand in the air. "I yield to your combined forces," he said somewhat sarcastically.
We were surrounded by Aunt Libby, Electra, Liam, Madhav, Anahera, and Aditi, so he wasn't completely inaccurate. Plus each of them had a blade drawn on him.
"Oh, I dunno, looks like Cass had you pretty good," Electra snickered.
"So, how should we go about securing our hostage?" Aunt Libby asked with a smirk. She tapped her jaw with her finger, contemplating for show.
"Tie him to Cass's bed!" Anahera suggested.
If she wasn't joking, I'd fucking murder her.
She only winked.
I buried my burning face in my hands.