What little daylight had been able to pierce the thick clouds was rapidly fading when Cearo started back to the tavern. Rheda, she knew, would fuss over her and act as if Cearo were going to drop dead of severe illness right then and there, and when Cearo told Rheda her side of the story, Rheda would likely pull Aelfrid into the back by his ear and take him to task right then and there. At least, Cearo hoped she'd react that way. The last thing she needed was for Rheda to join Helm and Elfhild in putting pressure on her to let Aelfrid court her.
"Forget Helm and Elfhild," she muttered as she trudged along the road. "The whole stinking village will be on my back about Aelfrid." Absolutely love. Cearo glared at the large puddle in front of her. "I am going to kill Bema and Nessa—or at least chew them out," she amended, "for leaving me here. I should not have to be dealing with this!" This kind of stupid garbage never would've happened back home. No one would've given her a hard time about not dating or getting serious with a guy, at least not seriously. Her parents hadn't married until they were both done with graduate school and her mom had always told her it mattered more that you were happy and content with your life than if you were dating or married and not to rush into anything. Her mother had been after her for days about how happiness is not found in a man after Cearo had said, within hearing of her parents, she'd never be happy unless Jack Harkness asked her out.
"This is all your fault, Bema!" Three birds burst out of the tree she was walking past, startled by her shouting. "It was your idea to leave me in the Land that Equal Rights Forgot! It's probably your fault I'm still here! You probably got busy dragging other girls off without telling them first and forgot about me!" She grabbed a stone off the road and hurled it at a nearby puddle, the height of the splash giving her a small measure of satisfaction. "What'd you do, take advice from Jareth the Goblin King and decide to leave me here because I said I wanted to go to Middle Earth? I'm sure you and him get along great, the way you both enjoy kidnapping children and tearing them away from their families! You dumped me here and forgot about me and now I have to deal with a whole marriage-obsessed village that doesn't see the problem with marrying a guy who's been a brother, and they all think I'll change my mind about marrying a guy I love and wake up as nuts as they are the day I turn twenty. It's all your fault I'm in this mess, so FIX IT!" As an afterthought, she added, "Nessa, if you're listening, talk some sense into your brother. Aelfrid's great but he's just a friend and…you know." Cearo sighed. "Thanks."
To delay having to deal with everyone, Cearo slipped in the door to the kitchen area when she reached the tavern. Dagmar was at the hearth, stirring a large pot of stew, when Cearo stepped inside.
"Dagmar." The woman looked up and a few of the others in the rear looked in her direction. "Could you go and tell Ma I'm here and I'm fine?" She shivered. "Oh, and do you have a blanket or something I could use to dry off and get warm?"
"Of course, child! Come stand by fire before you catch your death of cold!" Dagmar crossed the short distance between her and Cearo and took her arm and practically dragged her over next to the fire. "You can stir the stew for me while I am telling Rheda you are here." She pushed the long wooden spoon she'd been using into Cearo's hands.
"Thanks. I know everyone would be staring at me if I went out there and I don't want to take attention away from Helm and Elfhild."
Dagmar patted her arm understandingly. "Of course. That would be a terrible thing to do. You just stay here and stir the stew and I'll get Rheda. Try not to burn it." She winked at Cearo and bustled towards the front of the tavern.
As soon as Dagmar was gone, several of the other women in the back came over to Cearo.
"What happened?" Ardith, the miller's wife, asked excitedly. "Aelfrid looks as sour as a keg of spoiled ale and all he will say is that, yes, he talked to you and that you told him to leave you alone."
"Did you two have a fight?" Udela, Ardith's eldest unmarried daughter, seemed to relish the idea. "What did he do to make you tell him to leave you alone?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Cearo turned so she was facing the fire, hoping the women would take the hint and leave her alone until later. "I need to make sure the stew doesn't burn." Cearo was notorious for leaving a thick, hard burned layer on the bottom of the pot whenever she cooked. Why Dagmar had put her in charge of stirring the stew, Cearo had no idea but it made for an excellent excuse not to gossip and saying she needed to make sure it didn't burn was guaranteed to shut the other women up. None of them would want to risk distracting her and the stew burning. They would, after all, be eating it.
"Women back home have no idea how good they have it," Cearo murmured to herself. If she ever managed to return home to her family, the first thing she would do, after taking a long, hot bath with real soap and shampoo, would be to kiss the stove. The washer and drier would be next, followed by the fridge and the dishwasher, and she'd definitely pay a visit to the water heater. She laughed under her breath. Her family would think she was nuts, showing love to appliances, but if they had to live like she had for three years, they'd be kissing appliances and thanking God for modern technology, too.
'Bema or Nessa need to remember you're here first,' a small voice reminded her. 'You're doomed to burning bread and stew until then. And getting married whether you want to or not.'
"Thanks for the reminder," Cearo muttered. She did, technically, have the final say about whom she married, but it was unheard of for a woman not to accept a man whom she got on well with and who her parents approved of. Cearo and Rheda had talked about men and dating/courtship and marriage enough that Cearo had hoped Rheda understood, or at least accepted, that Cearo hadn't been raised to see marriage as a woman's only choice and that people married for love, not because he had a productive farm and she was good with kids and could cook well. Why was everyone so eager to marry her off to a guy who'd been like a brother for three years? Yeah, she'd been away for a month but it would take longer than that to change the way she saw him and then there was a fact he was just a friend and she was happy with the way things were.
Cearo felt her temper start to rise and she stirred the stew harder. It was totally unrealistic for people to expect her to shift mindsets in such a short time and suddenly be like, "Oh, Aelfrid, you're so wonderful!" and it really made her mad that people acted like she had no idea what she was talking about or treated her like she was some sort of freak because she wasn't obsessed with marriage and having kids and acting like it was her whole reason for living and being single was a fate worse than death.
When Dagmar returned to the back area with Rheda, Cearo started to smile but it vanished when Rheda met her eyes and frowned. 'I am so dead,' Cearo thought. When Rheda frowned at you, it meant you were in trouble, and whomever Rheda pinned with her Death Glare usually ended up getting the switch. So much for her hopes that Rheda would see things her way and yell at Aelfrid for pushing the issue of courting Cearo when Cearo had made it clear she was not interested right now. Her gut had been telling her Rheda would side with Aelfrid and see Cearo's reluctance as totally refusing Aelfrid, but she hadn't wanted to listen. With her birthday in three days and two men already making their interest clear, she'd been a fool to think Rheda and Algar would be anything other than upset. Things would be tenser than a drawn bow at home tonight, and would stay that way until she agreed to let Aelfrid or Brego court her or she ran away.
'If only,' she mused silently, 'both of them had lost interest, but that would've been too easy and convenient.' Bema and Nessa were definitely going to hear about it when—if they ever showed up again.
"You are back." Rheda's tone was cool, her words clipped. "Elfhild said you could wear the overdress she wore this morning." She raised a hand when Cearo opened her mouth to speak. "You will have to keep your cloak on to cover yourself, as there is no dry shift for you to wear, but at least you will not get sick from being dripping wet. You, Algar, and I will discuss what happened later, when we get home. Do not say anything, Cearo. We will discuss it later. You have taken enough of today away from Helm and Elfhild already. I am not going to give you any more of it." With one last disgusted look, she returned to the feasting.
Dagmar, who had been hovering nearby, strode forward and grabbed the wooden spoon out of Cearo's hands as soon as Rheda started to leave.
"Go and put on dry clothes, child." Dagmar gently pushed her toward the storeroom. "Before you become sick."
"Go before I burn the stew, you mean," Cearo muttered softly. Maybe there was truth to what was said about marrying on rainy days. Today certainly had been horrible enough.
After she changed, Dagmar had her hang her wet clothes near the fire and then all but chased her out of the kitchen while telling Cearo to go and enjoy herself and get some food before it was gone. Cearo would've told Dagmar she wasn't hungry, but Dagmar would've taken that to mean she was sick and start fussing over her and that was the last thing Cearo needed, so she smiled and laughed and assured Dagmar she had every intention of piling her plate high and eating until she wanted to burst.
Out in the main room, Cearo could feel people staring at her, following her with their eyes as she walked over to where her family was sitting.
"Feeling better?" Kenric asked, as if nothing had happened.
"A bit." Cearo gave him a genuine smile. "Are you going to move over so I can sit down or will I have to shove you aside, brat?"
"Sit here." Rheda, in a 'this is not a request' tone, gestured to a space between her and Aelfrid. "There is plenty of room."
"Stay." Kenric elbowed Grindan and growled for him to move. "The light from your hair will help us to see what we're eating."
Cearo smacked the back of Kenric's head. "You eat too fast to see what you're putting in your mouth, and I will wrap my hair around your throat and strangle you with it if you don't stop making jokes about it."
"Stop bothering her," Rheda said sharply. "Cearo, come and sit down and eat."
"I'm fine here, Ma." She forced a smile and sat down next to Kenric and Tellan.
"Come down here."
"What did you do?" Tellan asked in a loud whisper. "Ma's really mad."
"Nothing I'm going to tell you about now." She gave Tellan a quick smile. "You and me will go hunt rabbits tomorrow, okay?" Stomach full of stones, she forced herself to stand up and step back over the bench.
"Great! Ma can roast the rabbits we catch for dinner!" The boy's face was lit up with a grin.
"Cearo, get down here." Irritation was clear in Rheda's voice.
"I'm coming, Ma. I was just telling Tellan I'd take him hunting for rabbits tomorrow while I stood up." Cearo wanted to tell Rheda to relax; she'd only just stood back up and she was going as fast as she could considering there wasn't much room to move around and people were packed in tightly. 'Like sardines in a can,' she thought dryly. 'Not that she'd understand what that means.'
It was only through an enormous force of will Cearo didn't veer toward the door, grabbing the first horse she found outside, and going back to the house. Sitting next to Aelfrid, though, was nothing compared to what she'd have to face if she caused a huge scene, so, eyes forward, she sat down between Rheda and Aelfrid.
"Is—" Before she could finish asking if there was a plate she could use, Aelfrid placed one full of food in front of her. Surprised, she looked up at him.
"Thank you," she said.
"Ma told me to." Without another word, he turned back to his meal.
Cearo stared at the plate of food in front of her for a long moment before picking up a turkey leg. The smell of the food had roused her appetite and she didn't want to face the rest of the evening with a growing stomach. She'd need all the strength she could get, especially at home.
Dagmar's stew came out in several large bowls a short time later.
"None of it burned," Udela teased in a low voice to Cearo on her way back to the kitchen for more stew. "Good job."
"I only stirred it for a few minutes, Lynna. Just because I'm not good at cooking doesn't mean everything I help with will be ruined, and as long as someone else monitors the oven the breads I make come out fine."
Udela looked offended. "I was just trying to be nice," she said crossly before walking away. Cearo saw her say something to another girl by the door to the kitchen and then both girls looked in her direction. Embarrassed and frustrated, she ducked her head and started picking at the cuticle on her right thumb, hoping the feasting would end soon. Once it did, the tables would be pushed back from the center of the floor and there would be dancing. She was a good dancer, so it was a guarantee there wouldn't be any shortage of men who wanted to dance with her tonight. She'd have to suck up and have at least one dance with Aelfrid, for the sake of appearances, but other than that, she had the perfect excuse to avoid him.
'Mom was right,' Cearo thought sardonically. 'It does pay to be polite.'
As the meal continued, it became clear to Cearo that Aelfrid was ignoring her, talking to others around him but never saying a word to her. Other than when she asked for something to be passed to her he acted as if she wasn't there at all, and when he did pass her something, he never looked at her.
Cearo was finishing her second bowl of stew when Baldric, Breca's youngest son, leaned across the table toward Aelfrid.
"What did she do, insult Osric?" From the way he slurred his words slightly, it was obvious he was drunk. "Did she say she prefers Osric's company? Is that why you are being so rude to Cearo?" Next to Aelfrid, Cearo began coughing loudly to dislodge the small piece of carrot she'd just inhaled.
"Piss off, Baldric. Your tunic is in the stew. Move. No one wants to taste your horse's shit when they eat."
"Nothing? No explanation for why you two have been feuding for over a month? It must be something terrible, indeed!" He looked at Cearo. "Women love to talk, so tell me what happened. What is your ever-patient lover—"
Aelfrid, in a huff, stood up while Baldric was talking, emptied his mug over Baldric's head, and then stalked toward the bar.
"Was it something I said?" Baldric remarked after a long, silent, uncomfortable moment, and then laughed. "Ale and horse shit. I have to taste this!"
Cearo, face flaming, stared blindly at her plate, acutely aware of the stares directed toward her and the empty space next to her. After the wave of intense mortification and desire for the earth to swallow her whole where she sat passed, she realized with growing horror that most of the talk tomorrow would focus on Aelfrid and her, not Helm and Elfhild. She buried her face in her hands and groaned softly. At least none of it was her fault. All she'd been doing was eating and minding her own business and trying not to draw any more attention.
Cearo let her hands drop into her lap. "May I go in back and help Dagmar?" she asked Rheda.
"That is an excellent idea." The older woman's color was high and her tone clipped. "Stay there until one of us comes for you."
"Of course. Thank you."
In the back, Cearo went straight to Dagmar. "How can I help? Ma and I thought it would be a good idea if I came back here for a while."
"A wise idea. Fill a bucket with scraps and take it to the pigs." She gestured to one near the door. "When you are done, you can tell us all what happened. What did you do to upset the boy?"
"It wasn't me." Her face flamed hotter. "It was Baldric. He is drunk and started asking why Aelfrid and me are fighting and why Aelfrid was ignoring me and Aelfrid got mad, dumped his ale over Baldric's head, and stomped off to the bar."
"Bema preserve us," Dagmar said with a sigh. "The last thing he needs is more ale. Go on, girl, feed the pigs." She glanced to her right at the group of women watching them. "They will be useless until you tell them everything, so hurry up."
Before facing the women in the kitchen, Cearo got a mug of cider from the bar to fortify her nerves. She was already feeling a bit drunk and knew the contents of the mug in her hands would ensure the rest of the night would pass in a giggly haze. 'I'll need to be in a good mood to get through the rest of the evening.' She smiled sardonically to herself. 'Maybe after another two or three mugs I will be in a good enough mood not to throttle Aelfrid. If I'm even able to throttle him.' She giggled, imagining how silly she'd look stumbling toward him and trying to wrap her hands around his neck.
Orva, Breca's second-youngest daughter, was trying to make Cearo admit she loved Aelfrid when Rheda came into the kitchen, saying Elfhild wanted to talk to Cearo.
"Yes, I will come back and tell you what she wanted," Cearo said dryly to the other women before any of them could ask. As she followed Rheda back out to the front room, she asked, "How mad are Helm and Elfhild?"
"Mad enough."
Cearo mentally shuddered. Helm was generally easygoing and hard to anger, but when he was truly upset, his temper burned hot and fierce. Cearo hoped he'd focus on Aelfrid and not her. She'd caused a stir, running out, but that could have been for any number of reasons and she'd had every intention of playing it cool the rest of the night. Aelfrid was the one who went and made the huge scene and stole all the attention from Helm and Elfhild and made sure everyone knew something was going on with him and Cearo. None of that was her fault.
"Do they want Aelfrid, too?" she asked Rheda.
Rheda nodded. "Helm was talking to him when I came for you. There has not been any yelling or fights breaking out, which surprises me. Both of them, their heads are ale-soaked. Not enough sense and reason between them for a young child."
"Dagmar said the last thing Aelfrid needed was any more ale after he went up to the bar for more after dumping his mug over Baldric's head." Cearo giggled, remembering how silly Baldric had looked with his hair plastered against his head and ale dripping off his hair onto the table and large bowl of stew. "I had nothing to do with that and I hope Helm and Elfhild know that."
"Do not worry; Helm saw everything. We are sitting near them, after all."
"Oh. Yeah." Duh. Of course they were sitting near Helm and Elfhild. They were his family. The cider was turning her brain to total mush. Once she emptied her mug, she was only having water the rest of the night.
When Elfhild saw Rheda and Cearo approaching, she leaned toward Helm, whispered something in his ear, and stood up and started toward them. Cearo felt herself tense up and she waited for Elfhild to start yelling at her.
"When I said you should sit by Aelfrid, I did not mean you should steal all the attention as well." Elfhild's tone was light and she was smiling, but the smile did not reach her eyes.
"I am so sorry! I wasn't thinking when I ran out and I didn't mean to make a scene and I was trying not to draw any more attention. I didn't want to totally ruin this for you and Helm and—"
"Cearo, enough," Elfhild interrupted. "Helm and I saw what happened with Aelfrid. We also saw he was ignoring you. Why?"
"I don't want to talk about that here." Cearo felt her face start to flame. "People already know too much."
"Lean close and tell me, then." Elfhild put an arm around Cearo's shoulders and turned her so both of them had their backs to the room. "What happened?"
Dreading the scolding that would come, Cearo told Elfhild about Aelfrid coming after her and their arguing and how he'd kissed her and she'd lashed out at him.
"I felt horrible, but all I wanted was to be alone and he wouldn't leave me alone." Cearo sighed. "Everything is a mess and everyone's paying attention to him and me now and I know Rheda and Algar are going to yell at me later for being stupid and refusing Aelfrid when all I did was say I wanted to be alone and to think." Cearo looked at Elfhild. "Do you understand, or do you think I've refused Aelfrid entirely and thrown away a perfectly good chance at marriage?"
"What I think does not matter. Aelfrid is convinced you will never have him, which is what he told your—our parents." Saying 'our parents', Elfhild smiled.
"It just gets better." 'Why' Cearo wondered 'do men insist on taking things the wrong way?' Out loud, she continued, "Maybe they will listen to you, sister—" she gave Elfhild's arm a squeeze "—if you tell them all I meant was that I need time to get used to seeing Aelfrid as something other than like a brother. Do you think Helm would let me borrow you tonight?" They both laughed. "Another day, then. Do you think if I talked to Helm and told him what I meant, he'd talk to Aelfrid?"
Cearo wished she could take back her second question when an expression of smug satisfaction began to spread across her sister-in-law's face.
"So you are willing to let Aelfrid court you."
"I did not say that, Elfhild. I said I need to get used to seeing Aelfrid as something other than a brother." She pulled away from Elfhild and crossed her arms over her chest. "Just because I'm going to be twenty in three days does not mean I'm suddenly obsessed with marriage, like you were six months ago. It is possible to think a guy is great without wanting to marry him and saying 'not right now' does not mean 'never'."
Elfhild's smile faded. "I was not obsessed with marriage. Maybe you have not noticed, but that is a woman's role: to make sure there is a hot meal waiting for her husband when he comes in from the fields and to bear and care for his children. The one thing daughters can do for their families is to marry as soon as possible once they are grown so they are not a burden any longer than they must be."
"'A burden'?" Elfhild was more brainwashed than she'd thought. "You think we're a burden on our families if we're not married after we're twenty? Are sons over twenty burdens, too?"
"They do a lot more for the family than a daughter can, Cearo, and you know it. Extra hands in the fields mean enough food to get through the winter."
"And preparing the food means nothing? What about taking care of younger children? Turning the wool into yarn and cloth and clothing doesn't benefit a family? We are not burdens on our families." Cearo bit down gently on the tip of her tongue to keep from going off on Elfhild about her lousy view of women and their worth.
"You are not because you are the only daughter old enough to help your—help Ma. My mother has Moire and Edit, and Gurda will be old enough to start carding wool and milking the cow in a few months. Why should I not look to marry as soon as possible when all I would be is another mouth to feed?" After a moment, she continued, "Cearo, you need to grow up and set aside your childish ideas of marrying whenever you want to and only if you love a man. You will end up alone and dependent on others for your food and shelter if you do not." She held up a hand when Cearo opened her mouth to argue. "I understand Aelfrid's interest came as a surprise and you want time to get used to not seeing him like a brother. I will talk to my husband" she blushed "and ask him to talk to Aelfrid. I do not think Ma and Pa will have a problem with that, and I'm sure you could come live with Helm and me for a time."
Cearo felt a huge rush of relief. "Thank you." She gave Elfhild a hug. "That will be fabulous."
"On one condition."
"What?" Cearo stepped back suddenly tense again.
"You allow Aelfrid to court you. I am not going to humor your unrealistic ideas anymore, and I know Helm and Ma and Pa agree with me. There is no good reason not to. You are good friends with him—"
"—Or used to be," Cearo interjected sardonically.
Elfhild gave her a Look. "He is only hurt over what happened earlier. His mood would improve if you told him you overreacted because you were surprised, and that you are thinking about what he said."
"And then he will not leave me alone for the rest of the evening and I'll end up throttling him."
Elfhild laughed lightly. "It could be worse. It could be Brego."
"That is not even funny!" Cearo thought about it for a moment then shuddered involuntarily. "Bema save me from him! If he bothers me tonight, Elfhild, I will run out the door again. I love you and Helm very much and do not want to ruin your wedding and make another scene, but if that's what I have to do to get away from him, I will."
"I understand." Elfhild smiled slyly. "I am sure everyone else—"
"—Except Deagol."
"Except Deagol—and stop interrupting me—will understand. Try less…attention-getting ways first, though." She gave Cearo a quick hug. "Everything will be fine."
"I want my wife back!" Helm called loudly. "You can talk about whose wool was a brighter green later!"
Cearo and Elfhild looked at each other then laughed.
"Just for that," Cearo said in a low voice, "he should have to wait even longer."
Elfhild shook her head slightly. "He is right. We can discuss our wool later. There is not much more to say about green dyes, anyway."
"That's right, let him order you around." Cearo's smile took any sting out of her words. "Go back to your lout of a husband. I'll find someone else to discuss dying with. Oh, have fun tonight."
To Cearo's surprise, instead of turning deep red and becoming flustered, Elfhild smiled widely and said, "I will let you know" before returning to the table.
A/N: I received a few 'please, leave it here!' comments in response to my note in the last chapter that I'll be moving this fic to fictionpress. The direction I (read: the plotbunnies) want to go with the story is totally OC and involves canon even less than it does now, so it will be moving to fictionpress. Since there is a strong fanfic aspect I'll be leaving it up here and writing a nice, neat, fandom-friendly ending so no one is left hanging and it doesn't become one of the thousands of other stories left unresolved (which, as a reader, really bugs me).