(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

[thewidewideworld]

The Abbot calls for silence and starts sermonising. Pompous and long winded.

Sinric does his best to listen attentively but Niketas interjects with quiet, sarcastic remarks in ancient Greek, aware they're the only ones nearby who understand. Sinric can't help but giggle, burying his face in Hannibal's shoulder to keep from getting caught. Like a table of naughty school children. Alcuin remains serious... right up until he corrects Niketas' pun on pontificate, chiding his pronunciation like the teacher he is. Only to make the slur on the abbot's character stronger.

[cook_the_rude]

"This," Hannibal murmurs between his teeth, "is probably the moment Bullshit Bingo was invented."

[thewidewideworld]

Which is not helping with Sinric's giggling.

Finally the Abbot stops and food is served by the lay brothers. It's quite a feast and Niketas has quite an appetite.

"Tell me, Doctor Lecter," Alcuin asks, pouring them all more wine, "being an educated man, are you familiar with the writings of Virgil?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Of course I am," Hannibal says.

[thewidewideworld]

"Good!" Alcuin nods, "Then perhaps you can help me with these two heathens. I've been trying to get them to appreciate Georgics since they were both very small."

Sinric throws his hands up. "Its not that I don't appreciate Georgics, I just prefer Aeneid. It's a better story."

Niketas chimes in on an argument that's clearly been going on for a long time. "I never could follow the politics of bees."

[cook_the_rude]

"With Virgil," Hannibal says, "it's always his political intentions one has to consider first. He never simply wants to tell a story, or describe facts."

[thewidewideworld]

"But his stories were so compelling." Sinric sneaks a grin at his old teacher. "Not always compellingly told but..." He ducks his head, getting exactly the glare he expected.

[cook_the_rude]

"That is how they get you," Hannibal smiles.

[thewidewideworld]

Alcuin glares at his pupil on cue, mollified as Sinric ducks his head in contrition.

It's a very sweet dynamic and Niketas smiles. "It's a pity we weren't all in the same classroom. I think my brothers and I could have learnt a lot from the Little Birds."

[cook_the_rude]

"Humility, to begin with," Hannibal says. "Those that want to rule need to learn to serve first. That is a sensible monastic principle."

[thewidewideworld]

"And appreciation." Niketas points out. "The Birds had a hunger to learn, and the wisdom to take advantage of every opportunity. We who were born to it took it for granted."

[cook_the_rude]

"Perhaps even a nuisance to keep you from pleasure?"

[thewidewideworld]

Alcuin laughs. "It sounds as if you've known young and privileged boys, il doctor."

Sinric shakes his head. "I don't recall all of you being so ready to run and play. I remember you as quite the scholar."

Niketas snorts. "I was trying to impress Father."

[cook_the_rude]

"At the very beginning, I used to be one," Hannibal admits. "Not a prince, of course, but the princeling of our own mole-hill."

[thewidewideworld]

"A nobleman's breeding as well as bearing?" Alcuin asks softly. "It would seem you are a man of many parts, Dr Lecter."

The past tense isn't lost on Niketas. "You no longer claim your linage?" As someone who as himself been parted from his name.

[cook_the_rude]

"We were driven out and largely killed by enemies of my parents," Hannibal says, gravely. "Only I survived to be taken in by my uncle in Francia."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric threads his fingers in Hannibal's, squeezing gently.

Niketas nods slowly. "Did you seek revenge on those who took your family and lands?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal says. "But it didn't restore our ranks and possessions."

[thewidewideworld]

Niketas nods. "Nor the lives lost." There's sadness in his voice and Sinric reaches to comfort him, just as he did Hannibal.

Alcuin watches the exchange with interest, old eyes missing nothing. "It would seem you have done well for yourself, Dr Lecter. Made a worth life of your hardship."

[cook_the_rude]

"Both natueal gifts and good education helped me up again, from the ruins," Hannibal says, "but the grief never goes away."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric holds both than hands, giving both Niketas and Hannibal his support. "But even from the ruins, may we find hope and purpose."

There seems to be a lull in the feast, a moment of quiet around the hall. So Sinric decided to brighten it. He lifts his voice in song, starting with something polite, suitable for a church celebration. It doesn't take much for his trained voice to fill up the space, drawing the ear.

The reaction from the hall is positive, from everyone but the Abbot who glares. He moves to perch on the table, still holding Hannibal's hand.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal holds on to that hand and gazes up at Simric as he sings.

[thewidewideworld]

If Sinric knows anything it's how to work a crowd. He starts with an innocent song, with just enough praise to God to keep the Abbot from stopping him.

Soon enough his song shifts to a love song, lilting and aching. But still innocent and sweet. By now, he owns the room, and every eye is on him.

Niketas leans back in his chair; clean, clear tears in the corners of his eye, reminded of happier times.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal leans back as well, eyes on Sinric, ears wide open -- but a shred of his attention stays on Niketas, and is pleased with the change.

[thewidewideworld]

There's no magic in it but Sinric's voice and heart. And his gift for carrying a crowd.

When he has every heart aching on the dying notes of his song, he shifts.

A happy, bouncing song. The sort that makes people want to sing along. He grins at Hannibal, making an effort to keep the song clean as he shifts to stand on the table.