(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

[from here}

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.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal nods. "Take one, then wait for about an hour before taking another, if you are still in pain," Hannibal says. "And I would be very glad to see everything. In my time, all this has been destroyed and rebuilt several times over."

[thewidewideworld]

Niketas swallows the pill as Sinric instructs and lays back on the bed. His expression is drawn and tired, now that Sinric's magic is withdrawing. "Strange to think we are nothing but dust to you. Time is the death of all. Men and Empires." the last word slurs as sleep claims him.

Sinric sighs, feeling a load lift from his shoulders. He draws Hannibal outside, closing the door behind him so Niketas will not be disturbed.

He walks in silence out to the courtyard, lifting his face to the weak afternoon sun, eyes closed to bask in it. "Thank you." It's said so softly, so heartfelt.

[cook_the_rude]

"This was an astonishing day," Hannibal says. "Thank you for taking me."

[thewidewideworld]

"Come, there's something I want you to see."

He leads Hannibal into the chapel, slipping quietly around the monks. The altar, the one he shared the image of himself on, is much older than the church. Sinric turns the corner of the altar cloth aside to touch the ancient stone. "This belonged to Apollo. The story goes that Benedict tried to remove it but Satan sat upon it, making it too heavy to move."

"And when Benedict tried to cast Satan out, the devil pulled down the wall." He points to where the stone wall has been rebuilt. "It crushed a young monk, who Benedict supposedly brought back to life."

He shakes back his golden hair, eyes closed for a moment. "I don't think Satan was ever here. I think Apollo made his last stand here before giving the place over to Christian god."

[cook_the_rude]

"So this is where Apollo still lingers, the Christian saints being ultimately much more tolerant then their more fervent worshippers," Hannibal murmurs. "Thank you for showing me."

[thewidewideworld]

"I don't know that Benedict was so much tolerant as much as he stubborn. He couldn't make the stone move so he claimed it as his own." He straightens the altar cloth, hiding the ancient stone. "I like to think Apollo hasn't forgotten the place. And the scrolls we are translating bring back another time."

[cook_the_rude]

"You will have to abandon them when you leave with Niketas," Hannibal points out. "But you could take pictures of them before you do. I remember you have an iPod or something like it; do you have something with a camera and a proper screen as well?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Given how ready the abbot was to see them destroyed, I'm tempted to steal them away to Milliways and finish the translations myself. Or ask Alcuin to take them back with him to Charles' library. At least Charles has respect for the old empires, and through that, the old gods."

[cook_the_rude]

"Photograph them, and suggest to Alcuin to take them," Hannibal ponders. "Maybe suggest to the abbot that Charles might grant the order some land as those scrolls will interest him, and then suggest to Alcuin that a grant of tenuous land near the border of still-heathen Saxony will be beneficial to all concerned. I can already tell you that will work, because that's exactly what Charles did around the Saxon lands, and the specific outcome of this plan now is probably going to be the Imperial Abbey of Corvey."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs aloud; a bright, cheerful sound that echoes around the empty chapel. A passing monk shushes them, scowling. That sort of joviality has no place in God's house. But it doesn't stop Sinric, only forces him to bury his face in Hannibal's tunic to stifle himself. "You are a wonderful, clever man and if it wouldn't get us both in trouble, I'd kiss you right now."

[cook_the_rude]

"Let's find a hidden place where you can at least do that," Hannibal says. "We need to celebrate our combined cleverness."

Because it's not just him. It's never just him.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and takes his hand, skipping on light feet across the cold stones. Being who he is, Sinric has explored the chapel and most of the abbey enclave, often under the cloak of the unseen, one of the earliest magics he mastered.

There little nook, formed by a buttress and the line of a wooden staircase added later that proves close cover for two. Sinric shimmies in, pulling Hannibal with him. "You know well how much I need this." It's not really a question. He know Hannibal, as Hannibal knows him.

[cook_the_rude]

First things first: Hannibal pulls him close and kisses him deeply. "You love Niketas," he states, "but he cannot see your power, your fire, the golden antlers reaching far into the future from everything you touch."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans into the kiss, drinking it in greedily. "He sees a song bird whose wings have grown. But not the strength behind them." He kisses Hannibal again, hands slipping under the heavy wool tunic to cup Hannibal's rear. "The vision I shared with you will haunt his dreams, half in desire, half in guilt."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal tilts into the touch like a petted panther.

"He has no reason to feel guilt over his desire," he says. "His vows were forced from him, and there is no intrinsic reason for him not to discard them lightly. Neither chastity nor poverty or obedience suit im in the least."

[thewidewideworld]

"He lacks my healthy disregard for the teachings of the church. And suffers a prince's burden of duty. Something I will have time to help him cast off during our journey."

He says it with the confidence of seeing rather than the smugness of someone planning to tempt and seduce a priest.

[cook_the_rude]

"Open his inner eye, not only the outward one," Hannibal agrees, kissing him again.

[thewidewideworld]

"Just so." Sinric leans into the kiss again, hands firmly anchored on the hard muscles of Hannibal's rear. There's something reassuringly powerful about the firmness of Hannibal's body.

[cook_the_rude]

"Any holy nook you'd particularly like re-paganised?" Hannibal whispers against Sinric's lips.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs softly, lapping at the corner of Hannibal's lips. He flashes the image of himself sprawled out on the altar, this time with Hannibal on his knees between his spread thighs.

"But that would deconsecrate the church. And that would be rude." Sinric chuckles.

[cook_the_rude]

"I'm sure there's a chapel of some deservingly chaste saint?" Hannibal suggest.

Yes, deconsecrating the main church would be rather rude, if quite amusing.

[thewidewideworld]

"I do believe there's a little chapel dedicated to Saint Equitius on the east wing."

But before they could consider moving, a voice can be heard calling out the name Oriens.

Sinric's face falls. "Alcuin."

[cook_the_rude]

"Well, let us meet him, then," Hannibal says, closing his eyes resignedly for a moment. "His is another great name to survive the ages."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric looks equally frustrated as he nods and straightens his tunic.

He nods and carefully shifts out from behind the stairs. "Master Alcuin." He plasters a smile into his face and steps towards Alcuin, turning him carefully to protect Hannibal from view.

"Oriens, my boy. Whatever have you been up to? You've been missed. As has the noble Tétartos."

Sinric glances over Alcuin's shoulder to Hannibal. "Tétartos was taken poorly. Doctor Lecter has been looking to him."

[cook_the_rude]

"I hope he rests more easily now," Hannibal says. "His eyes will need more care, regular bathing with medicine-soaked little sponges."