Egfor watched Ealhwyn flit around the farmhouse like a chicken with her head cut off. Egfor sipped his beer and shook his head, "Sister dearest, please sit down. I'm getting whiplash watching you."
Ealhwyn threw up her hands with a sigh and sank into the chair across from Egfor.
Egfor nodded in approval and slid a mug towards her, followed by a pot of lavender and mint tea, "Sit, drink, breathe."
Ealhwyn begrudgingly poured herself a cup of tea, blowing on it gently. She did not like being bossed around by her baby brother.
Egfor leaned back, starting to pack a pipe. His eyes flicker down to his hands, focused, "It doesn't hurt to breathe, ground, and recenter yourself." He looked up at her, lighting his pipe. He let his gaze drop to the Rohirric sword that lay on the table. The usual clutter of dishes and papers was cleaned up for once.
The sword was of aged steel, but quite strong. It had a guard of engraved bronze, detailed with worn and rubbed out runes and figures of horses and men, the hilt itself was wrapped in supple, aged leather, though in good condition. The sheath was even more ornate and depicted entire scenes of history on it.
Egfor lifted his eyes back up to Ealhwyn, "I gotta admit, I don't know the history of this blade." He puffed on his pipe, his thoughts momentarily derailed as his husband entered the farmhouse.
Ealhwyn smiled a little, "I know enough. But you may wish to try and find spirits connected to the blade to tell you more details."
The siblings fell quiet, both knowing Dem would wish to hear. Egfor smirked slightly in amusement as he watched Dem putter around much like Ealhwyn did.
The dark haired man approached the table, kissing Egfor in greeting, a cup of coffee in his hand. Egfor kissed him back and reached up to touch his cheek, "Sit, love, Ealhwyn is just about to tell some history." Curious, Dem pulled up a chair and reached for Egfor's hand.
Egfor had a brief conundrum; he set down his beer and clamped his pipe in his teeth before lacing fingers with his husband.
Ealhwyn starts, "This sword is from the age of Eorl the Young. We can trace our lineage back to the Éothéod."
Egfor nods as he listens, leaning forward to look at the sword closer, "I take it that it has been reforged and rebuilt a few times?"
Ealhwyn nods and sips her tea, letting out a soft sigh of contentment, "Oh, most definitely. A sword couldn't last that long unless it was an artifact on display. Which this is most definitely not. It has been passed from head of the family to head of the family, whether they are a matriarch or patriarch. It is to be carried with them and carry the family name into battle with honour."
Egfor nods at that, "And when you passed the head on to me, the sword came with the title."
Ealhwyn nods, "We are by no means nobles, but apparently father's side has a bit of wealth. Father is estranged from his family. So beyond that knowledge, I know little to nothing about the sword."
Egfor stamps out his pipe and nods, "Figured as such. I'll have to look into what spirits and energy remain attached to the sword." Egfor paused for a moment, setting his beer down and letting go of Dem's hand reluctantly. He stands and grabs the sword, pulling it out of the sheathe with a hiss of steel. He looks the blade over, tracing over some of the runes in the blade with a finger. He furrows a brow and looks at his fingers shortly after touching the blade, "Something feels strange. But not in a bad way. I.. I can't explain it. I may have to send a letter to Rivendell request that Copper comes up." He glances at Ealhwyn, "An elven smith friend of ours."
He sheathes the sword and sets it back down carefully, moving to sit once more and take Dem's hand again. "Well, it's an honour to bear this title and blade."
