(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]

"Yes", he rasps out. "I want it. Take me over."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and takes both Athelstan's hands in his, entwining their fingers as he takes Athelstan into his mouth and with all his skill, gives him over to pleasure.

[athelstanthescribe]

It doesn't feel like being restrained. It feels like being loved, and Athelstan cries out as he falls.

[thewidewideworld]

Exactly what Sinric was hoping for.

He drinks down Athelstan's release, kissing and licking him into the warmth of after glow before sliding up to wrap Athelstan in an embrace.

"Beloved Athelstan." He purrs, holding his friend and lover close.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Sinric", he returns, still breathing fast as he turns into the embrace. "Thank you, my love."

[thewidewideworld]

"With pleasure, my love." Sinric whispers smiling and stroking Athelstan's shoulder. His eyes glitter to see Athelstan looking so happy.

[athelstanthescribe]

It won't last. But for now, and again in the future no doubt, this is what Sinric has done for him.

"I said I would tell you stories, didn't I?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Only if you want to, my love. Otherwise I can sing to you if you need more sleep. We can tell stories later if you're tired."

[athelstanthescribe]

"...a little tired", he admits. "If you don't mind waiting, then? And before that, I must ask you something."

[thewidewideworld]

"Athelstan, beloved," Sinric smiles, kissing Athelstan's cheek. "You can ask me anything. What can I do for you?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"A question, not a request." He hesitates. "What did I say to you in my delirium? I hardly remember."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods, he has a good memory for such things. "You called out in your native tongue in your delirium. Two names I didn't know; Aedrea and Modor?"

[athelstanthescribe]

His eyes close briefly, and there's an old and calm sadness in them when they open.

"I must have been dreaming of childhood. Modor means 'mother' in the language of Northumbria, and Aedre... Aedre was my older sister."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric frowns sadly and strokes Athelstan's hair. "It brought back long buried memories of your family?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Not buried by any harm in remembering them, only by time. I was very young when they died."

The blaze of grief he first felt when the brothers told him has long since died down.

[thewidewideworld]

"Will you tell me about them? What you remember of them?" He asks softly, trying to find happy memories behind that grief.

[athelstanthescribe]

"The memories are distant, but there are some things... when I was no more than three, I do remember my brothers and I trying to stand up to a boy from the town who was bothering Aedre."

[thewidewideworld]

"You were fierce in the protection of your family, even then?" Sinric smiles, playing with Athelstan's hair.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Like a little puppy", he says with amusement, "trying to growl and be terrifying."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric giggles warmly. "A wolf puppy still learning how to howl. I can just imagine."

[athelstanthescribe]

"I think possibly my brothers had more effect", he says with a smile. "Or all five of us as a united force. We always played together as well, a great tumble of boys, when we weren't scrapping - again like puppies."

[thewidewideworld]

"What were their names, your brothers?" He asks, his voice low as he pulls the furs around them.

[athelstanthescribe]

"From oldest to youngest", he recounts, snuggling into the furs, "Alnoth, Osgar, Cynbert... and Wulfrys. And then me."

[thewidewideworld]

He repeats the names to himself, tasting the strange shape of them. Northumbrian names have an odd tone to Sinric who grew up with Greek and Persian names.

[athelstanthescribe]

"I was always a little the odd one out. The others were good strong farm boys and I - I wasn't weak or sickly, and they weren't stupid, but I was much more inquiring. I'd be caught every week or two sneaking away from chores to find something to read."