(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

Sinric walks calmly till he is away from the bar and then runs. Something about Eric terrified him. Or thrilled him. Neither of which was good.

He ran till he came to a familiar door, Athelstan's. Having no place of his own and feeling that he owed Athelstan for interceding with Eric, he let himself in, meaning to wait for Athelstan's return to thank him.

He finds himself drawn to the window, sitting on the sill with his feet drawn up under him. He rests his head on his knee as he looks out over the lake, singing the elven song he learn this morning. The sound of it is soothing and he eases himself into a half doze.

Comments

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar puts an arm around Athelstan, the other still holding Sinric upright.

He hugs them both closely, burying his face in both the dark hair and the blond.

"We wouldn't have found each other without you."

Plans about Eric can come later. Now, only Sinric matters.

"Sinric," he says again, softly.

They can still call him Oriens in public, if he prefers. Or even in private, at that.

[thewidewideworld]

What starts as a sigh comes out as a sob. "I like... the way my name sounds when you say it."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Then to us", Athelstan says softly, "you shall be Sinric. But if you prefer Oriens to the rest of the world..."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Whatever you prefer," Ragnar says. "Sinric."

He bends his head to kiss each of them in turn.

[thewidewideworld]

He nods minutely. Having his name with them is a powerful secret. A secret he only knows himself because he stole a look at the Slave Master's records.

The kiss makes him warm and he clings tight to Ragnar and Athelstan for a moment. "I brought you food. You should eat." He tries to shift the attention away from himself and this overwhelming knowledge.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Yes", Athelstan says with a smile. "We should all eat, and looking at that, there's plenty."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar turns to look at the table.

"We should," he says. "You brought those chocolate things!"

He doesn't let go, yet, and kisses both of them again.

"To anybody else, including Eric, you're Oriens."

[thewidewideworld]

"To Eric, I am nothing." Sinric's voice is sharp and certainly. "If I am a weapon he can use against either of you, then I am as beyond his reach as the stars. I will not speak to him or allow him to be near me."

His posture becomes confidence as he pours them drinks and serves the food. He has a future and that future requires planning.

[athelstanthescribe]

"I don't know for sure that he means to", Athelstan says fairly. "But I certainly wouldn't put it past him."

He smiles to see Sinric's confidence growing by the minute.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"He's likely to act curious," Ragnar says, "but can't get at you in public if you tell him no. If he ever catches you alone, call for help at once. Security has people with superhuman powers."

He sits.

"That food smells very good, if unfamiliar. What is it?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"He also", Athelstan puts in, "can't enter any private space uninvited, including these rooms."

[thewidewideworld]

"I will remember that." He lays out the dishes. "Spicy soup to make you feel stronger, lamb and rice." He pours a warm milky drink. "And what we call lion's milk." The drink is spiced with nutmeg and cinnamon but with a distinctly alcoholic after taste.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"That will do you good," Ragnar says, to Athelstan. "It smells very roar-inducing, with spices and everything."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan chuckles.

"Very warming. And lamb, my favourite."

[thewidewideworld]

"I wasn't sure what you might prefer. As far as I can tell, the Varangians eat and drink anything."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"They do," Ragnar says. "Especially Floki."

[athelstanthescribe]

"But I do like lamb." He smiles. "For fifteen years, I had only the plainest fare, and little enough choice in that."

[thewidewideworld]

"Then you will like the soup. Good strong flavour." He pours it into little bowls, eating rice and lamb off delicate fingers, looking very at home sharing a meal like this.

"Who is Floki?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"My boat-builder and best friend since youth," Ragnar says. "he is very tall, very thin, and very hungry. He eats like three bears in spring."

[athelstanthescribe]

"His talent for woodcraft is second to none", Athelstan contributes honestly.

[thewidewideworld]

"The thin ones often do. You should see how much Probus eats and he's thinner than I am."

Sinric smirks, catching the lack of expression in Athelstan's tone. "But you don't like him?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"He talks to the trees and can invent anything," Ragnar says.

He doesn't comment on the tensions between Floki and Athelstan, he doesn't like it, but he can't forbid them.

[athelstanthescribe]

He could try, but it wouldn't change anything. Feelings are feelings.

"We tolerate one another", Athelstan says calmly. "Sometimes things are even better than that."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric reaches out to run his fingers over the inside of Athelstan's wrist in a little gesture of comfort. "Sometimes that's the best you can ask."

"Does he come here?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"He does," Ragnar says. "He was a dragon at Cubefall, when we were birds. Things were better then. We rode on his ail when he went to hunt demon bunnies."