Before he could reply, Farkas hoisted Ergnir on his shoulders, and a tankard was placed on his hands. A circle formed around them and they were dancing, singing something about a maiden on her first wedding night. A bawdy song and not really appropriate, but Vilkas was part of this circle too, and he was laughing. Ergnir had never seen him dancing on a table before. Not even after the Cure.
It lasted little, as Torvar jumped on and said he knew of this one game, and suddenly people were jumping from table to table, from the tables onto the chairs, from the chairs onto the stools, and Keerava was yelling at them to get the Pits off her bar. Or maybe the inn. And then they were outside.
It was raining, again, and he bumped his head on the doorway because Farkas didn’t bother to put him down. In fact, he was skipping down the bridge with Ergnir still on his shoulders, until Vilkas told him he’d like his husband to make it alive to their marital bed. There was cat-calling and whistling, and clapping along to some song Ria was singing.
She was nowhere near as innocent as they had thought when she first joined. The guards called their names when they passed by the door, turning left because someone said they wanted to see the garden the Harbinger’s husband had grown. It was a strange thing for Vilkas to be proud of, he thought, but it was a nice garden, in any case.
“So many flowers! Let’s lie in the flowers!”
Njada was laughing and muttering, stretched out face down in the garden, moving her arms and legs in the mud like she was trying to make a snow-Mara. Farkas chose that moment to lose his balance, and Ergnir hit the floor with a wet thud.
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timeasmymeasure
The Marriage of the Harbinger and the Dragonborn and its Celebration (3/7)
Date: 2013-07-17 09:36 am (UTC)Before he could reply, Farkas hoisted Ergnir on his shoulders, and a tankard was placed on his hands. A circle formed around them and they were dancing, singing something about a maiden on her first wedding night. A bawdy song and not really appropriate, but Vilkas was part of this circle too, and he was laughing. Ergnir had never seen him dancing on a table before. Not even after the Cure.
It lasted little, as Torvar jumped on and said he knew of this one game, and suddenly people were jumping from table to table, from the tables onto the chairs, from the chairs onto the stools, and Keerava was yelling at them to get the Pits off her bar. Or maybe the inn. And then they were outside.
It was raining, again, and he bumped his head on the doorway because Farkas didn’t bother to put him down. In fact, he was skipping down the bridge with Ergnir still on his shoulders, until Vilkas told him he’d like his husband to make it alive to their marital bed. There was cat-calling and whistling, and clapping along to some song Ria was singing.
She was nowhere near as innocent as they had thought when she first joined. The guards called their names when they passed by the door, turning left because someone said they wanted to see the garden the Harbinger’s husband had grown. It was a strange thing for Vilkas to be proud of, he thought, but it was a nice garden, in any case.
“So many flowers! Let’s lie in the flowers!”
Njada was laughing and muttering, stretched out face down in the garden, moving her arms and legs in the mud like she was trying to make a snow-Mara. Farkas chose that moment to lose his balance, and Ergnir hit the floor with a wet thud.