Night two

[thewidewideworld]

{from here}

Sinric woke at dawn, as he had most of his life. He sat and watched the sun rise over Ribe. From the beach, he looked back at the little trade port as the sun crested the carved figureheads on the rooftops.

Hung-over and feeling more than a little sick, he felt... happier in his own way. A night of tears and a morning of introspection had helped.

He had said more to Ragnar last night, more than he should have. But Ragnar’s trust in the gods, in oracles and seers would cover that. It would be many years before Ragnar found the bar and years more before Ragnar would find him in the bar.

For Ragnar, it would be a beginning but for Sinric it was an end.

Just as it had been with Constantine, just as it had been it Yan. And Egrit, and Olaf, and Saga, and all his other lovers.

It was time to move on.

Tonight he would give Ragnar the water compass. Tonight he would sing his last songs for Ribe and in the morning sail with the first tide, or slip away and walk until his feet brought him to another place. His task in life was complete. What was left - belonged to him.

***

That night the tavern is a riot. Heavy drinking and boisterous singing. Knowing this will be his last night in this place, his last night as the person he has been since Ragnar foretold his future all those years ago, Sinric is determined to go out in style.

A Viking believes he lives while his reputation is remembered so Sinric plans to leave everyone here with memories enough for a lifetime.

He is standing on the table as Ragnar comes in, leading the perfect sing-along song for this sort of night. A drinking song that’s lewd, playful and makes everyone want to join in. The music is infectious, making even the most taciturn smile or tap their feet.

He’s in his element, the centre of a swirling cacophony of upraised voices and joy. But if anyone is watching closely, they'll see that for all the horn in his hand and his playful silliness, Sinric isn't drinking. Every time someone fills his cup, he manages to palm it off to someone else.

Comments

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar does reach out to touch the jade now.

"What is it for?" he asks. "For pleasuring yourself, or for drinking from?"

Or, maybe, both?

[thewidewideworld]

"Pleasuring ones self. Or worn on the belt to pleasure others." Sinric likes that Ragnar is unafraid to touch such a thing, which some would see as a threat to their masculinity.

He lets Ragnar investigate the phallus, pouring them the last of his Frankish wine.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar takes the thing in his hands to turn it over, peer at it, look at the belt. So one woman might pleasure another as if she were a man?" he says. "Why is it hollow?"

[thewidewideworld]

"So the Seiðr priestesses I met on my travels use such things. None so fine as this, though. It was a think of great envy when they saw it."

He sips his wine as sets the other cup before Ragnar. "But it can also be worn over a man's member. Should he be like me. Or should he have other reasons not to be able to use his own."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar puts down the thing almost reluctantly, and picks up his wine.

"So you have pleasures women with this?"

He's still looking at the thing with great fascination. So that is why it is hollow.

"It would be like armour for a man's member. Armour for his lack of virility, which it helps him to win back."

If you have a phallus of dragon seed around your own flaccid one, then surely you will be counted as an upstanding man.

[thewidewideworld]

"Once or twice. Although I find what can be done with fingers and tongue will more often bring a woman to the moment of ecstasy truer than that."

"In truth, although I enjoy the company and beauty; bright strong women like your maidens of shield and spear, I have rarely felt desire for them as most men do."

Sinric snorts a laugh. "You hit the mark closer that you know. This once belonged to a descendant of the dragon Prince."

He settles back into his storyteller's voice. "The emperors of that land hold themselves as being the offspring of the great goddess and therefore gods in their own right. They hold their very persons to be sacred and none but those sanctified may touch their skin."

"Prince Saga was the second son and not set to rise to power but perhaps for that reason, he was most insistent in proving himself to be more godly, more powerful and more worthy than his brother."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"But he found his power flagging in the prick department?" Ragnar guesses, taking a sip of his wine.

[thewidewideworld]

"Oh no, he was as virile a man as any. Perhapst too much so for his own good."

"My companion and I became stranded in his lands and were in need of sanctuary. From the moment he saw me, Saga lusted for me. I was younger then and more beautiful than most women. And in those lands, my golden hair and pale skin made me exotic."

"Saga offered us shelter but at a price - the freedom of my body for ten nights."

"My companion was outraged that the Prince would demand such a thing. I was a free man and my body was not goods to be bartered."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"But yours to give freely, I suppose?" Ragnar says. "Did his power-lust and greed for you make him off-putting?"

[thewidewideworld]

"In part, yes. His greed was covetous and I was afraid once he had me, he might never let me go. But our situation was precarious and their few other options. And so, under yet protest from my companion, I gave myself to Prince Saga."

"His people cleaned and cleansed me in every way possible before I was presented to him."

"But as much as he desired me, his pride in his godhood would not allow him to touch me with his bare skin. So instead he touched me through gloves of fine leather, and tried to sate his lust wearing armour of jade." He nods to the phallus.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"But that would mean possession without pleasure for him," Ragnar chuckles. "Too proud to have his prock touched -- so too proud to find release."

What a pompous idiot, his face clearly says.

[thewidewideworld]

"Just so. For eight days and eight nights, he tried to find pleasure in me, possessing and using me in every way he could think of. His frustration became rage which became violence." Sinric lowers his eyes, sipping his wine to wash away the bitterness of the memory.

"In the end, fearing for my life, I broke through his armour. Bloody and beaten as I was, I kisses him fully and deeply, as no-one had dared before. He melted in my arms, like tallow in a fire. Behind the armour, behind the mask, he was little more than a child, unloved and afraid."

"For the last two nights of our contract I showed him love, gentleness and compassion. I showed him the pleasure he had denied himself and those around him."

"When we set sail, some month later, he presented me with this - the armour he had learnt he had no need for."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"No man needs that kind of armour if he knows who he is, and is sure of his manhood," Ragnar nods. "Our fiercest fighters literally fight almost naked."

Pause.

"You have the gift of bringing out that which people are meant to be."

[thewidewideworld]

"He was boy who had never come into manhood, never been forced to confront his own worth. A spoilt child who had never not got what he wanted so had no sense of what he needed."

He takes the complement with a small bow. "Too often to the detriment of my own skin but thank you."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Coddling a child like that is very bad," Ragnar nods. "They grow into dangerous and unreliable men and women. I've not met royalty, except from far away at a Thing, but there are tales."

[thewidewideworld]

"The royal ones are worst. Not only are they unreliable, they tend to be powerful too. So even as an adult, few dare to refuse them."

"I have known good kings and bad. I have known an emperor so beloved and respected, he would go down to the barracks to wrestles with his soldiers, and would reward any who could best him, as long as they promised to teach him how to do it better."

"And I have known those who common people spat at the name of and made wards against bad spirits."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"An emperor," Ragnar says. "Was that in Miklagard?"

There are emperors there, not just kings.

[thewidewideworld]

He nods, reaching for another small parcel on his not so neatly arranged pile of things to pack. He draws out a little gold coin with a little loop through it to make it into a necklace. "Constantine the fifth. Best emperor Byzantium knew since the great Constantine who raised up the city."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"And you have known him?"

[thewidewideworld]

"A long time ago." He whispers with great sadness. "He was like a father to me."

Sinric pulls himself together and sips his wine. "He died in battle, protecting his people. Alas, his son was just one of those spoiled children we spoke of and I was forced to leave Miklagard." He tries to makes it sound like a distant memory but there's still hurt in his voice.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"And then, you wandered to the East?" Ragnar guesses.

[thewidewideworld]

"As far east as the rising sun would let me. Then south and west through the lands the Romans once held. Then west again through the great courts of Rome and Frankia, England then followed the trade routes east into Keivan Rus and then north to here." His hands move in the air, scribing a map too vast for more to understand.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"The Kievan Rus are the tribes that settled halfway to Miklagard, aren't they?" Ragnar says. "Their traders do come all the way to Hedeby."

[thewidewideworld]

He nods. "They take the best of both those worlds - the strength and wise dealings of the Vikings, the culture and learning of Byzantium. All built on the fertile Slavic valleys." He liked Novgorod immediately, it reminded him of the outer cities of Byzantium.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"The ones I met were both shrewd and honourable," Ragnar says, in a tone of great approval.