By the Banks of the Tisa

[wheatencrown]

The river is quiet as is the land around them, hidden under the quiet of Winter as Demeter brings Attila through holding a picnic basket,

"Welcome home."

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[wheatencrown]

"Not odd at all, they honor you even now here."

She leans into his arm, glad of the warmth and seeing how happy he is. Demeter smiles and waves at the woman before speaking in Magyar,

"My friend knew this place many years ago, can you tell a warm place to sit?"

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The woman smile at them and points. "The second house along," she replies. "You will be welcomed."

The language hovers on the borders of familiarity and Attila smiles thanks at her before following the direction of her gesture. She gives them the kind of measuring look that is probably gauging the amount of effort and research they put into their costumes then continues to demand that the boy get back to work.

Attila smiles and walks on across the increasingly mucky snow. "This seems right," he said. "We used to lay down rushes and ashes to try and keep the mud down in our villages. In winter though, it used to get knee deep. Shall I carry you? Muddy feet are undignified."

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Now Demeter's laugh fills the air with Summer and huskiness,

"I have never been terribly dignified, Attila, anyway I like the feel of the land under my feet."

She follows along looking at the houses and giving smiles that make men and women turn, she may hide her divinity but she's still a striking woman.

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Some of the men also turn their attention to Attila - probably wondering if he was her Dad. He smiles back at them, seeing from their body language that none of them are going to challenge him.

On one level it makes him sad for his country men - that they'll allow a stranger to walk into their village with SUCH a woman in the circle of his arm and not at least test him - on another it's as expected - it had been a long time since any of his young men had been so full of themselves to risk the thumping they'd get for cheek.

Some of the women are worth looking at and meet his eyes boldly and unafraid - then look away hastily. The ones that blush would be worth following up under other circumstances but right now he's concerned to get his lady into the warm.

His feet are cold too.

[wheatencrown]

Attila doesn't realize just how intimidating he is and Demeter's smiles warm them all as she looks their way for a moment.

In a moment they reach the small inn where the smell of roasting meat and beer float from and Demeter walks through the door and speaks again in Magyar,

"Blessings upon you today, we would both like some lunch."

The innkeeper is quick to find them a table near the fire and fetch warm drinks for them both. A few people from outside have chosen this time to eat too since they're curious yet still slightly cautious.

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When the man brings the drinks Attila thanks him and he bobs his head, brow creasing as he almost but not quite understanding. It is, Attila thinks, as much tone and emphasis as the change in the words and he listens closely to other conversations, trying to learn the trick of it.

But he can still smile to his companion, hitch his sword into a more comfortable position and say, "Forgive my curiosity but what is in the basket you carry so carefully?"

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That brings a laugh from Demeter as she uncovers it to show him a few small saplings,

"I thought perhaps after lunch, we might plant a small oak. This is land that is cared for and loved after all."

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Attila leans to look in the basket, which puts his shoulder against hers, his dark hair swinging to tickle her cheek.

"They look strong," he says with a smile. "I heard a rhyme once - a pine for me, an ash for my son, an oak for folk in years to come."

[wheatencrown]

"They are strong and I will make sure they grow tall and proud for many years."

She leans back against him, kissing his hair gently,

"After lunch, we shall walk and you will decide where to plant them."

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Attila nods. "I have never planted a tree," he admits, "but I know how it is done. Perhaps the host here can tell us where to obtain some thorn branches to protect the saplings until they are grown enough to be safe from the stock. Sheep," he said darkly, "will nibble anything and even they aren't as bad as goats!"

[wheatencrown]

"Its a simple but powerful act as is tending and growing anything."

Demeter grins at him, she has other ways of keeping plants off of her plants.

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Attila smiles wryly. "I never really got the hang of farming," he said. "Was bred to fight, see. But I could see how essential it was. It's what I should have been doing - making it safe for the people to till their fields and bring in their crops. I don't know how it got so - out of control. Too late now but," he looked from her to the basket, "at least I can help give them a good start."

[wheatencrown]

"You made it possible for others to tend without worry and that is a great thing so I will not have you speaking down on yourself."

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Attila shakes his head. "I ruined more crops than I ever protected," he admitted. "But that was then and this is now. It's heartwarming that here, where I was a protector, I am still remembered. As are you - every time a man puts his hands in the soil with good intent, it is in some sort, a prayer to you."

[wheatencrown]

"By your hand others could grow crops, hold onto that."

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Attila smile and touches her hand, seeming small against his massive scarred paw. "Thank you, lady," he breathes then looks up as the host approaches with a tray.

The man nods warily and respectfuly then sets out the dishes which Attila inspects with approval.

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Demeter smiles up at the server who finds himself answering with a grin as he moves away,

"Now, does any of this look familiar to you?"

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Attila frowns and draws his knife, using it to manipulate the food with the casual ease of someone for whom forks are just a recent fad.

"Meat - fairly fresh by the smell of it," he said. "I don't recognise the seasoning on this dish but that is lamb roast with rosemary. Bread, also fresh, and unbelievably puffy. No greens - you need your greens to stop scurvy. Maybe they ran out. Is that cheese. It smells like cheese. Only it's hard."

Attila continued to poke around with all the curiosity of one who once said, "I wonder what would happen if I invaded Dacia?"

[wheatencrown]

"Probably a touch of paprika along with some salt and pepper. We can of course orders some greens if you like."

Demeter's smile has turned into a grin, seeing Attila discover his home again.

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"I'm all right," Attila said. "I had my breakfast koumiss - as good as a whole cabbage except it doesn't make you far... um - fat, I was going to say fat." He grins back at her and begins to transfer items of food to a dish for her.

"This food is a banquent," he said. "Though it's the company that adds savour."

[wheatencrown]

"Thank you, Attila, I'm glad to share it with you."

He gets another kiss on the cheek as Demeter starts to eat.

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Attila smiles into his beard at the kiss. There's a little voice in the back of his mind suggesting that next time he jerk his head round and catch her lips on his own. But there's another suggesting that he's having a good tim and it would be a pity to spoil it.

He's inclined to agree to the latter so piles his own plate and tastes the bread.

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Demeter wouldn't mind, she plans on kissing him properly later when they have more privacy.

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He ate quietly, keeping an eye on her food intake so he could offer more, but not talking. Times past he had eaten in the saddle more often than not and had never understood the fascination Roman's had with food and the rituals with which they had surrounded its intake.

The host also brought jugs with beer and wine and horn cups. Attila smiled and nodded and then inspected the brew.

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Its a fine one brewed in the area and Demeter does not stint in her eating, she appreciates the work and care that goes into all that's before them.

In time she is licking her fingers and whispering to the lady of the house who soon returns with a wonderful dessert full of honey and lovely fruits.