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Entry tags:

athelstan,
ragnar

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Curled in Rangar's arms and clutching Athelstan's hand, Sinric keeps his face hidden as they enter their rooms. Somehow it's easier with his eyes closed. It seems to narrow down the visions.

He tries to steady himself enough to stand, wavering like a leaf. "I must smell terrible." He can't tell, still so disconnected from his own body. "I don't remember how long it's been since I washed."

He senses a turn of discomfort from Athelstan. "I can do it alone, it's alright."

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"What did he say?"

The doctor is running up the stairs, gracefully taking three steps at a time.

"'Ragnar, don't kill her' - but there was no woman there, let alone one in danger from Ragnar. I don't know what he was seeing."

"Had he been asleep?"

After two flights of stairs, the doctor turns into a corridor.

"Yes", Athelstan confirms, following him. "Bar provided something to help him, or I don't think he would have been able to sleep at all. I hoped it would be more restful."

"What was wrong with him to begin with?" the doctor says, unlocking his door.

"Like I said, he hadn't eaten for too long. Or had any water, I think... he said something about a ritual."

"Do you think drugs might have been involved as well?" the doctor asks as he trows his door wide and steps inside.

Dr. Lecter's room in Milliways is quite simple, for his standards.

There is a book case full of well-worn old books, a small fireplace with a comfortable-looking chair, some framed pages from medieval manuscripts on the walls, and a small harpsichord. There's a desk, and a desk chair to go with it. Most furniture is vintage midcentury modern, unobtrusively luxurious and classic. He even has what must be a small kitchen, made up from two towers and an island.

Everything is rich, warm wood and mature colours -- an off-grey, and some accents in oxblood red.

Quickly, the doctor walks over to a small cabinet and starts collecting bottles and instruments into a leather bag.

"Not modern drugs, I think it happened in his own time. But it could have been ones available then."

"There are very powerful plant based drugs," the doctor says, putting more vials into the bag.

He nods.

"And they could have played a part in a ritual."

"That is what mind-altering drugs are traditionally used for," the doctor says. "Alcaloid-based ones, especially. Hallucinogenics."

He peers into his bag as if to check he has everything he needs.

"Don't those usually wear off fairly quickly, though? It's been quite a few hours, maybe as long as a day."

"There are drugs that last a lot longer," Dr. Lecter says, "and then there are flashback effects."

Athelstan nods, accepting Dr Lecter's knowledge about that as greater than his.

"Do you have what you need?"

"I think so," Dr. Lecter says. "Let'S go help Sinric."

He turns for the door immediately.

The doctor locks up, then quickly strides down the corridor towards the staircase. "Sinric's room, or yours?"

"Ragnar's. I'll show you the way."

The doctor nods. "Up or down?" he asks when they get to the stairs.

"Up."

He leads the rest of the way, almost running.

The doctor hurries along, close behind him, up to Ragnar's door.

Athelstan opens it hurriedly, looking to see Sinric's condition.

Sinric is limp as a doll in Ragnar's arms when they come in. Blood and spittle oozing from the corner of his lips from where he's bitten the inside of his mouth during the fit. His breath barely stirring the air, his narrow chest is almost still.

"He was wild, and now got quiet," Ragnar says, sounding very worried, the moment they both step inside.

The doctor walks over quickly, opens the bag, and starts examining Sinric, starting with a look into his eye.

"I think that can happen, when the seizure passes", Athelstan says, just as worriedly. "But he's still with us, so the doctor can help him."