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Sinric comes down from his room, still dressed his furs and heavily embroiled tunic but looking fresh and scrubbed.

He smiles brightly to see Hannibal.

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thewidewideworld

Niketas leans against a bookshelf, resting his chin on his cane and smiles. "My father would have liked you." And Niketas notices that Hannibal only answers half the question.

He nods slowly. "When he's gone from my life once more, I'll look to Sicily. And watch for him." He touches the corner of his ruined eye with his sleeve, brushing away a bloody tear.

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cook_the_rude

"The Norman Chapel of Palermo, as it stands to my day, means a lot to me," Hannibal says. "It is from beyond your day, but I could well imagine the two of you being somewhere at its foundation."

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thewidewideworld

"When we are nothing but dust, look for us there." It's Sinric, standing by the door with a soft smile.

He brushed a hand over Hannibal's arm as he crossed to Niketas, "Your eyes are causing you pain again."

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cook_the_rude

"How thoughtless of me," Hannibal says. "I came to help with that, after all."

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thewidewideworld

"You did?" Niketas asks surprised.

"Somewhere more private, perhaps?" Sinric suggests, taking Niketas' arm and guiding him. "Master Alcuin will not mind us using his quarters. He's asleep in the monk's dormitory already."

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cook_the_rude

"Better for what any passing scribe might well consider magic," Hannibal says.

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Sinric leads them to a surprisingly well appointed rooms, the walls covered with thick tapestries, the floors with thick rugs and kept warm two charcoal braziers.

Alcuin is an important man after all, and he has the ear of the next defender of the throne of Christ.

Sinric guides Niketas to a chair and moves to light all the lanterns and candles he can find.

In Niketas' presence, he moves with the quiet grace of a servant, melting into the background.

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cook_the_rude

Hannibal opens his bag and takes out a few instruments and implements that nobody in this time has ever seen. Nor will, ever.

"I will have to pull your eyelids apart, if possible, to see what part of the damage is causing you pain, and what I can best do against it," he announces.

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"I trust him, Nobelissimos." Sinric urges reassuringly, resting a hand on Niketas' arm. "Hannibal had healed me many time. You are safe with him."

Niketas nods and braces his head against the back of the high-backed chair.

The point of a hot blade has been pressed against Niketas' eyes. He's very lucky that neither eyeball has ruptured but one cornea is burnt and scarred, the other side, the eyelid too is burnt, as if he managed to close the eye on that side in time. The puckering causes his tear-duct to tear, badly damaging it.

From:

cook_the_rude

"In my time, surgery would be able to restore your eyesight," Hannibal declares, after spending about twenty minutes with tests, taking notes and uttering nothing but sparse and to-the-point, if always very polite, questions and requests. "It would take its time, but is feasible. Here? I will be able to help you with the pain, and try and open the unburned eye enough to allow you to discern light and dark, perhaps vague shapes, around the scarring. It won't be much, but give you just enough of an edge as you are officially considered without any eyesight at all."

From:

thewidewideworld

Niketas is silent for long moments, long enough for Sinric, who has been silent and out of the way till now, steps in to touch his arm. "Nobelissimos?"

"Please." Niketas shakes his head, his voice laden with emotion. "You know I no longer have any right to that title." But he folds a grateful hand over Sinric's all the same.

He turns his face towards Hannibal. "Any help you could give me would be most welcome. And greatly appreciated. I am told that the place you met, the world beyond worlds, only allows some to past. And on meeting you, I know it must take the most worthy only. As it is with Sinric."

Sinric hums a sound of disagreement, on his own behalf at least. "We can try to opened the way for you-"

But Niketas holds up a hand to hush him. "This is already more than I have the right to ask for." He looks up at Hannibal. "What do you need me to do, and how can I repay you?"

From:

cook_the_rude

"I already have everything from this place I could ever want, being allowed to keep the Lucifer ikon safe," Hannibal says. "I want to do this by daylight, tomorrow. We need a safe and well-lit space, not large, and some absolutely undisturbed hours to ourselves. And afterwards, you will have to pretend that you are worse off, for a while."

From:

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"As you say, so will I do." Niketas promises.

"I know a place suitable. No-one will disturb us there." Sinric says softly, a hand still reassuring on Niketas' arm. "Hannibal, will you need equipment from the Milliways?"

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cook_the_rude

"If I had access to some things from there, I could make this safer, less painful, and more likely to have a good outcome," Hannibal admits. "I would need some Bag of Holding to bring these things, though."

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Sinric nods. "Then I shall take you back and wait at the door with you."

He squeezes Niketas' arm. "You should rest. Tomorrow will bring pain but also, Heaven willing, light."

"Until tomorrow." Niketas nods and makes his way to one of the straw-filled pallets in the room.

Sinric offers Hannibal his hand and leads him back to the bar.

From:

cook_the_rude

"I need my office first," Hannibal says, "to make a list, and look up a few things. After that, I will get a few things from the bar. I'll bring some music, if that won't disconcert Niketas too much?"

From:

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"Rest too, if you desire. Time will not pass for Niketas while we are here." Sinric points out, opening for door and stepping through into Milliways bright embrace.

"Music will please him, if we explain the source. But if you wished, I could sing. He will not see my eyes so there is no fear that he might know I am weaving the song to ease his pain."

He looks up at Hannibal, quietly thoughtful. "What do you think of him?"

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cook_the_rude

"I think that there is greatness in the shadows still waiting for him, and giving him back at least a little bit of his eyesight may be a way for me to contribute to history," Hannibal says. "I can see what attracts you to him, even with Ragnar in your future."

From:

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"Your mark will be felt, even a thousand years before your birth." Sinric smiles.

"Ragnar is still more then a decade away. No matter what else happen, my path will always lead to him." He smiles sadly. "For I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."

He lowers his eyes and his voice. "In Niketas' company, I feel the urge to kneel. Not in deference, not entirely, but out of the desire to serve. To be of service. To protect and comfort and find fulfillment in that."

He shrugs. "That probably sound terribly weak. Like a frightened bird flying back to its cage."

From:

cook_the_rude

"No," Hannibal says. "It sounds like one that embraces the gentle power of submission. If that submission was given to a deity or spiritual ideal, people would talk of strong faith, piety, sainthood. It's that submission which is at the core of the strongest path of self-healing humans have developed, to my knowledge."

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Sinric leans up into his toes to kiss Hannibal's cheek. "You see me." It is the greatest praise and thanks Sinric can give. "Better than I see myself."

He gives Hannibal's arm a squeeze. "Gather what tools you need, do what research you require. I will be here when you are ready to return."

From:

cook_the_rude

It takes Hannibal a little under five hours before he turns up again, carrying another bag while drinking tea from a mug.

"I'm ready," he announces.

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thewidewideworld

Sinric is sitting by the fire, dozing on the couch. He has not been idle and his golden hair which had been nearly braided now tumbles about his face. He has his own bag of holding resting at his feet.

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cook_the_rude

Hannibal finishes his tea and puts the mug down. "I think I know what I am going to do," he says, "depending on what I find underneath that burned eyelid. Surgery is where one really learns to make antler-shaped plans."

From:

thewidewideworld

"I have faith in you." Sinric stretches and yawns, gathering up his things and strengthening his tunic. "Anything you can do, even just to ease his pain would be very kind."

He walks with Hannibal, opening the door onto a room within the monastery compound. The room is small and cool, with wide shuttered windows facing east that will affording a lovely view once the sun is up.

Through it seems disused, the room has been freshly swept and scrubbed. Two wide benches have been stacked, one on top of the other, and lashed together. Padded out with a straw mattress, blankets and furs, it will rise Niketas up to the right level for Hannibal to work comfortably on his eyes.

Two large braziers have been lit and damped down the take the chill from the room. One of them has a copper pot of clean water resting beside it.

Another bench set close at hand, scrubbed and spread with clean Bar linen.