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athelstan

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{from here}

Sinric carries his bundle upstairs, side by side with Athelstan. They slip through the new invisible door into the solar, it's lighthouse like windows looking out onto the bar's forest and grounds.

The Bar has read their minds and set the room up accordingly - with a long low padded bench for Athelstan to lay on while Sinric massages him. The lights are low, the glass tinted to give the room a warm, protective feel.

And a basket in the corner for Athelstan's dog and his bone.

Sinric sets up the incense the bar gave him - an eastern blend that Sinric has always found deeply soothing. He plugs his little music player into the speakers and sets it to play the soft chanting music of the Buddhist temple in the Sinese Empire.

He holds a hand out to Athelstan and draws him close, offering him a warm hug if he wants it before gesturing for him to undress.

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"Good company indeed, especially if he doesn't bring other company with him."

"I promise. They make special lotions for that in the future, too."

The dog doesn't seem like he's going anywhere now, curling comfortably between their feet.

"Oh I trust that he's clean and groomed. I'm just remembering the palace cats of my youth."

"Getting cats to keep still long enough to be groomed would be a dangerous and difficult job", he says seriously.

"It was easy with the kittens but not so with the big kitchen cats. They were hunters and very hard to catch or hold if they didn't wish to be held."

Athelstan nods. "And they aren't afraid to make their displeasure very much felt."

"I still have a very faint scar on my arm from learning that lesson as a small child." Sinric chuckles sleepily.

Athelstan snuggles up to him.

"You must have learned it well to only have one."

"It was a lesson one does not easily forget. And the scolding I got from the cook was almost as bad."

{ooc: off to work. See you after.}

"I bet. Was she the one who took care of the scratches?"

He nods against Athelstan's chest. "But then I had to tell Constantine why my arm was bandaged. Which was almost worse."

"What did he say?" Athelstan asks.

"It wasn't his words." Sinric's voice goes soft and quiet with memory. "It was the expression on his face. Disappointment mixed with worry."

"I hated that look. It made me afraid he regretted choosing me as one of his birds. I remember bursting into tears and begging him not to send me away."

He huffs a little laugh. "He picked me up and rocked me till I ran out of tears. That's who he was - a father to us first."

"He was a good man", Athelstan says quietly. "And I'm sure his disappointment can't have been great - it was a small offence, and one every child has committed."

Sinric chuckles. "I know that now. But I was six, and sure my life had ended when he looked at me like that. It wasn't till I was older that I saw him turn that look on great generals and would-be despots and saw them go to pieces under it too."

"It was so powerful a look?" he asks lightly.

"For those who wanted his love or his approval, it was. He made you want to make him proud." He yawns into Athelstan's shoulder.

"Go to sleep", Athelstan urges him. "I'll follow shortly."

Sinric gives a warm happy sigh and closes his eyes, his body pressed close to Athelstan's. "Beloved." He sighs again. "Love you."

"And I, you", he says softly.

It doesn't take long, a few heartbeats before Sinric is breathing deeply, curled tightly around Athelstan.

Athelstan closes his eyes and tries to empty his mind and sleep.

Even more than half asleep, Sinric still soothes Athelstan, one hand moving slowly over Athelstan's chest in a slow pat.

Athelstan curls into the touch, smiling to himself.

Sinric finally sinks deeper, his hand stilling over Athelstan's heart, the beat of it comforting.