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]

"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.

[thewidewideworld]

"That they are. As well as great poets and artists. And everyone, from the basest girl-child to the ruling class are taught to read and write." There is a note of approval there.

"Should my bones fail me and I grow too weak the follow the wind's commands, I hope it is there."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"You might notice in time, and still manage to travel there so you can settle for retirement," Ragnar says.

[thewidewideworld]

"I hope so." He shrugs. "Or the gods will sink a ship I'm on or feed me to the wolves when my time comes. Either way, I have lived well, seen much and done the things I was set here to do." Or he will have when he gives Ragnar the compass. "Few men can say that with certainty."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"The gods have told you your destiny beforehand?" Ragnar says. "That must be a great boon, but a great weight on your heart as well."

[thewidewideworld]

"In a way. There was a task laid on me, a debt of gratitude for kindnesses long ago. It is almost paid. After that, what becomes of me is my own doing and my own choosing. Last night that frightened me but today I find I look forward to the prospect."

He packs as he talks, putting things back into his large sturdy bag and setting aside things he no longer sees the need to carry. Better to drink the last of his wine in good company than carry it alone.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar watches him, slowly, quietly.

Realising that this destiny of Sinric's was about him.

The gods sent him a wanderer to bring him the sunstone and whatever is to follow tonight so he in turn might find that great treasure, and with that change things for the people around him in the way the gods want him to.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric watches the realisation dawn in Ragnar's eyes. "And again, my words run ahead of me. I should say no more but give you this, that way what passes after is of our choosing and not the gods."

He hands over the water compass. "This came from the east, to guide you west."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"How does this work?"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric fetches a bowl of water and a candle and shows him, explaining how to be sure his path is true.

"You have them now, the three things I came to give you - the water compass, the sunstone and the name of the treasure laden land to the west." He cups Ragnar's cheek and kisses him slowly and deeply. "Now the gods may do with me what they will."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Would they think ill of me if the thanks I want to give you for this pleases me as much as it pleases you?" Ragnar murmurs against Sinric's lips.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs warmly, breaking the spell of seriousness. "If they do, be damn with them them."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar kisses him again, and declares, "Good!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs softly into the kiss, setting the water and compass aside to pull Ragnar closer.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I'd like to discover you more," Ragnar murmurs. "To know you, not just feel and marvel."

[thewidewideworld]

"I'm yours, my raven." Sinric smiles, opening his arms to Ragnar. "Come explore me."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar steps closer, and undoes Simric's belt.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric helps him, shifting his weight to allow Ragnar to undress him. He reaches for Ragnar's belt, pulling off his tunic.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar runs a callused thumb over the tips of Sinric's nipples,still very fascinated by those small breasts.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric arches, moaning warmly. "Sweet Ragnar," He purrs, running his hands over Ragnar's chest and stomach. His thumbs trace the lines of Ragnar's abs. He leans in to nuzzle the curve of Ragnar's neck.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Sweet?" he chuckles. His rough hands are stroking Sinric's breasts, both demanding and gentle.

[thewidewideworld]

"You have no idea." Sinric laughs warmly, running his hands over Ragnar's shoulder. He runs his hands down to Ragnar's hips, teasing circles under his waistband.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Have you tasted me well enough to tell?" Ragnar grins, running a hand down the curve of Sinric's spine, and under the edge of his breeches.

His hips tilt into the touch, greedy for more.