(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{from here}

Sinric takes Athelstan's hand and leads him through an almost invisible door and down a couple of seemingly perfectly flat hallways that somehow open out onto the rooftop and a little flat terrace with a view of the eastern sky.

Sinric clearly spends some time up here because the spot is furnished with a daybed big enough to lay on or for two to sit together comfortingly and is draped with soft furry blankets of a cloth unknown in their time.

He helps Athelstan to the daybed and sits with him, setting the flask aside for now. The stars are still clear in the sky, even as dawn smudges the horizon with warmth.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"And I'm sure he would hate to hurt you. I hope I can do my best to act as translator to both your needs."

[athelstanthescribe]

"I have every faith in you." He manages a pale smile. "You understand, after all, from the inside."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans in to kiss him softly. "One night, when I most fought to shake the panic, Castor sat me down and told me how their swords are made. That the iron is worked and worked, forced into shapes until it becomes steel. That is what we are - work-hardened by force to become stronger than we were before. Even if you don't feel it now, and I'm not sure I do yet, but if we are tested again, we will be stronger than we were."

[athelstanthescribe]

"And those tests will come. There can be no doubt of that, in the world we live in."

[thewidewideworld]

"But you have time to heal before you face them." He promises softly, "Here, with me."

[athelstanthescribe]

"And I'll stay with you", he promises in turn, "until the need drives me back home, to let time pass and bring me closer to seeing Ragnar come sailing in."

[thewidewideworld]

He nods and kisses Athelstan softly. "And I will be here, waiting for you between visits and carrying your love to Ragnar should your paths not cross."

[athelstanthescribe]

"The greatest gift you could give us." He leans in and kisses him again. "Along with your own love."

[thewidewideworld]

He purrs into the kiss, a contented sound rather than one of desire and settles to lay pressed comfortably at Athelstan's side, warmed by the sun and his company.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan takes him in his arms and falls into a calm silence.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sings, a complex winding song on a language neither Greek nor Latin but holding something closer to Saxon English at its core. It's a calming song, perfectly suited to lazing in the sun with a loved one.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan doesn't know the song - or the language, really, but it's familiar enough to be soothing.

He closes his eyes, listening.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric pauses once or twice, trying to be sure of the words. It is a very long song after all. He comes to the end and presses a small kiss to Athelstan's brow, sleepy and serene himself.

[athelstanthescribe]

The warmth of the sun and the comfort of Sinric's presence and the song have made him drowsy, and he only stirs a little.

"Shall we sleep?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Hmm, yes. That would be very pleasant." His eyes are already half closed."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan curls closer to him, as near to truly relaxed as he's been since his capture.

"Yes, it does."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric manages to sing part of the Northumbrian lullaby before he drifts off, safe and happy in Athelstan's arms

[athelstanthescribe]

[ooc: and I think there's a wrap]

[thewidewideworld]

{ooc: our darling boys! Thank you.}