(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{from here}

Sinric leads Athelstan back to their room, stopping at the bar to have a quiet word with the bar before they go. When they arrive in their rooms, the bed has been spread with a large, warm bear-fur and draped with silk. There are candles on the table, at bedside, on the windowsill, bathing the room in soft, warm light.

Sinric smiles and leads Athelstan towards the bed. "This night is for you, beloved Athelstan. We'll go only as far as you're ready for."

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

"I hope so", he murmurs, looking into Sinric's eyes. "With time and care."

[thewidewideworld]

"I am proof of it." He assures softly.

"And you will have all the care I can give you. And all the time the world will allow." He promises, entwining his fingers with Athelstan's.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Will you try to explain to Ragnar, should I ever flinch away from his touch? If I can't explain myself?"

[thewidewideworld]

"If you need me to." Sinric promises. "He understood with me, I'm sure he will understand with you." Even if Sinric had to have words with Ragnar. Harsh words.

[athelstanthescribe]

"He hasn't known me as fragile", Athelstan says quietly. "Even when I was his slave and he had a knife at my neck - to cut the rope around it - he never saw me flinch."

[thewidewideworld]

"Athelstan, look at me." Sirnic's voice has a hard edge to it. An edge that comes from his own history. "You may be fragile, you may be bruised, and you may be battered. But you are not broken. And nor am I. There is no weakness in needing time to heal."

"And if Ragnar doesn't understand that, I will explain it to him."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Thank you", he says softly. "I don't want him to be hurt when he's done nothing wrong, and it's not his fault if I flinch."

[thewidewideworld]

"You have my word I'll make him understand. But he loves you and there is nothing he would not do to help you, including restraining himself."

[athelstanthescribe]

"That I know." His voice is still soft and loving. "He just may need your advice."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and cuddles close, "Then he'll have it."

[athelstanthescribe]

This soft and gentle touch is easy to take, and he can force away the violence of memory.

Running out of words, he leans in to kiss Sinric instead.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sighs warmly, keeping the kiss light. He brushes his fingers very gently over Athelstan's hand, staying away from his wounds.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan does deepen it a little, some far down inconsolable part of him afraid of disappointing Sinric for all the reassurances.

"If I should dream", he murmurs, "don't let me strike you in my thrashing. I've been told I did in the fever, when the palace servants tried to restrain me."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keeps the kiss light, but enjoys whatever Athelstan wants or needs. Or is willing to share.

"I'll be careful." Sinric promises, stroking back Athelstan's hair. "And if you want me to, I'll sing you back to sleep."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Please." He manages some kind of smile. "You soothe me so well."

[thewidewideworld]

"What suit of song would you like?" He asks softly, settling himself ready to sing.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Do you know any lullabies?"

It's childish, perhaps, but there's only Sinric to hear him.

[thewidewideworld]

"Several." Sinric smiles without judgement. "My Emperor is very fond of them."

He sings a soft, slow melody, weaving and gentle. He strokes Athelstan's hair, cradling Athelstan's head against his chest.

[athelstanthescribe]

Slowly, Athelstan begins to relax into the first stages of sleep.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keeps singing, weaving the song around them like a net of warmth and safety. He keeps singing until he's sure Athelstan is deep asleep.

[athelstanthescribe]

Eventually, he is, the bear fur soft underneath him and Sinric's arms around him - to comfort, not to trap, and he can still feel the difference.

It lasts a good few hours before the nightmares begin.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric wakes as soon as Athelstan's stirs, feeling the rush of panic clutch his own heart at the sudden alarm. He clears it from his mind with a quick breathing exercise and starts to sing, the same sweet song he calmed Athelstan to sleep with.

[athelstanthescribe]

He hears it in his sleep, an incongruous background to the horrors of his dreams, and it helps lead him slowly back to waking.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keeps stroking Athelstan's hair, in no fear of flailing fists as he eases his friend to comfort.

[athelstanthescribe]

Thanks in large part to Sinric's singing - and the fact that he isn't trying to hold Athelstan down - there are no flailing fists this time.

Slowly, he relaxes again, and his eyes open.