(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{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.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

"Do you think the scar tissue will loosen?" he asks into the pillow. "It aches to stretch my hands too far."

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes." He answers with confidence and without hesitation. "With time and with regular working to break up the scar tissue. That is one of the reasons the Birds were trained to this - to see to the scars my lord carried from previous battles. Over time I have seen scars far worse that this loosen and diminish."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan nods.

"I don't care so much for my feet, as long as I can walk and run. But my hands have always been my livelihood."

[thewidewideworld]

He nods and moves to the other hand. "I can teach Ragnar too, if you wish?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Yes", he says softly. "Please do. It isn't something I can do for myself."

[thewidewideworld]

"No, that would somewhat defeat the point. Relaxing one hand at the cost of the other." Sinric smiles, working slow lines out from the scar to ease Athelstan's hand open.

[athelstanthescribe]

Slowly, the skin and muscle do ease under his working fingers.

"It would be an endless cycle", Athelstan says with something like humour.

[thewidewideworld]

"Like the serpent biting his tail." Sinric smiles, gently placing Athelstan's hand back against his chest and moving to sit at his head.

He slides the pillow gently out, supporting Athelstan's head and starts in on his neck carefully.

[athelstanthescribe]

He settles his head in Sinric's lap.

"I don't know how I'll step back through that door."

[thewidewideworld]

"With strength and hope." Sinric answers softly. "Spring is coming. And so is Ragnar."

He starts to slips his fingers through Athelstan's hair, carding it loose to find the pressure points in his scalp. "Breathe for me, beloved."

[athelstanthescribe]

He does breathe, but the trouble in his mind has opened up again.

"It grinds me down, being there."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric presses a softly kiss to his lips to hush him and begins pressing here and there on Athelstan scalp. "Focus on your breath and on my touch."

As he presses in just the right way, Athelstan should feel a sensation of warmth travel across his shoulders, down his spine and spread from his tailbone into his groin and down his legs.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Where did I put the bottle? Can I have it?"

He's obediently trying to breathe, but he thinks the drink might help to quiet his mind, even as he does feel the warmth.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric frowns, having tries to have rid the poisons of drink from Athelstan's system with the alignment of his Chi. "In a moment. I am almost done."

He moves his hands again, causing a second wave, this time a sense of cooling, of cleansing to move through Athelstan's body.

He kisses Athelstan's forehead and returns the cushion, letting him rest a moment before moving to stand.

[athelstanthescribe]

"That feels like magic", he murmurs, eyes closing to savour the sensation Sinric just gave him.

[thewidewideworld]

"That it might be, for all I know. The medicine of the east can be very different to what I knew in the west. It does feel good. It certainly did when was done to me."

He hasn't moved to fetch the bottle. Not unless Athelstan asks again.

[athelstanthescribe]

He can tell Sinric's reluctance, knows it's born of worry, and for now he doesn't ask again.

"Come and lie with me."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and fetches some more cushions to make the bench wide enough for them both. He brings a soft sheet to lay over them as they snuggle, aware of how Athelstan feels about his own nakedness.

He slides in along side Athelstan, the cool silk of his kimono brushing against Athelstan's skin. "I am here with you, beloved."

[athelstanthescribe]

He doesn't like to look at his own body any more, even the unscarred parts.

"You always are. Even when you aren't."

[thewidewideworld]

"As you are with me." He promises, covering the tattoo over Athelstan's heart.

[athelstanthescribe]

"And Ragnar is with both of us." He lays his hand on where he knows Sinric's tattoo is, in turn.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's body is warm through the fine cloth over his tattoo and he hums softly. "Yes, and will always be."

He cups Athelstan's cheek and kisses him very softly.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan kisses him back as gently, leaning into the hand on his face.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles, his eyes loving. He keeps his kisses light and soft, glad just to feel warmth of Athelstan's lips, the gentle bristle of his beard.

[athelstanthescribe]

His lips are warm, at least, even if his hands and skin tend to the cold side these days. He lifts a hand in turn and strokes Sinric's cheek.