Sinric the Wanderer

Athelstan turns to allow him to.

"Boats - or swords, or whatever else their craft is - that are tested and prove their quality."

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"I think perfection goes much further," Ragnar muses. "It must be nearly hopeless to ever reach it. The last few steps are the hardest."

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"Balance, beauty, fit to the one it is made for." He rubs Athelstan's back softly, massaging as much as washing. "I suppose there is some measure in the master's mind as how one defines perfection."

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"But anyone with a little knowledge can tell a fine sword from a poor one."

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"But not a very fine sword from that made by a unique master," Ragnar says. "For that, you have to know a lot about swords."

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"And a master of worth would never think to allow anything less to leave is workshop." Sinric nods, pressing an absent kiss to Athelstan's shoulder as he rubs.

"Sometimes a blade is almost good enough but not quite. They are sometimes broken and turned into smaller knives if the blades are suitable."

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Athelstan allows the touches.

"Depending on where the flaw is?"

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"That is very strict," Ragnar says. "If Floki had built each boat he was having second thoughts about over again, we'd still not have left."

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Sinric gently rinses off Athelstan's back, offering to do the same with his hair. "For practical things like ships, I suppose one must accept there are time limits that must be obeyed. Tides and the such."

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He leans his head back into Sinric's hands.

"But the tides will come around again, so that wouldn't stop a true perfectionist."

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"Fortunately, we managed to convince him that his boats were good enough," Ragnar grins.

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Sinric chuckles and massages the shampoo into Athelstan's scalp, offering affection and contact without pressure.

"I know he has been troublesome to you, Athelstan, but I think one day I'd like to meet this Floki properly."

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"He's a genius at what he does", Athelstan says without hesitation. "And he might take to you better than to me."

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"Sometimes I think," Ragnar says, "that Floki is very curious about Athelstan and his beliefs and culture, so distrusting that curiosity, he is especially mean to him."

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"People are often afraid of what they don't understand. Especially if it threatens something they hold as true. I think it why men who are attracted to me thinking I'm a woman get so angry. They fear I have threatened something they believe about themselves."

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Athelstan shakes his head.

"I never meant to be a threat to anyone."

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"We know that," Ragnar says, reaching out to touch Athelstan's knee, "but Floki has odd ways of thinking. That's what makes him such a good boatbuilder, too."

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"Nor do I, beloved. We are what we are and we can't control what other people fear." Sinric adds with a shrug.

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"But it's liable to bring danger on us."

The conversation isn't light-hearted any more.

Edited Date: 2016-08-08 10:11 pm (UTC)

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"People always fear this or that," Ragnar says, "and there is always danger. But we can be stronger than that danger. We are Vikings, and fighters."

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Sinric gently wraps his arms around Athelstan and holds him in silent support. Sinric is no Viking, he can claim no such strength but he finds his own resilience in different ways.

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Ragnar's words don't seem to bring any comfort to Athelstan.

"Yes, Ragnar", he says tiredly, "dismiss my fears as nothing. It's what you always say. But I am not a Viking as you are."

He doesn't pull away from Sinric, but his eyes go to the door as if he wants to leave.

Edited Date: 2016-08-09 09:36 pm (UTC)

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"I don't mean to dismiss your fears," Ragnar says. "I hoped to encourage you."

Which he completely failed at -- again.

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