Sinric the Wanderer

From here

Curled in Rangar's arms and clutching Athelstan's hand, Sinric keeps his face hidden as they enter their rooms. Somehow it's easier with his eyes closed. It seems to narrow down the visions.

He tries to steady himself enough to stand, wavering like a leaf. "I must smell terrible." He can't tell, still so disconnected from his own body. "I don't remember how long it's been since I washed."

He senses a turn of discomfort from Athelstan. "I can do it alone, it's alright."

{from here}

Sinric opens the door to his room, letting the wrap slip from his shoulder as he moves to fold it up. There's a little catch in his breathing and a happy sigh as he sets it down on his bed. "I go away for years and yet, I come back and nothing has changed. Even the scent."

{from here}

Sinric carries his bundle upstairs, side by side with Athelstan. They slip through the new invisible door into the solar, it's lighthouse like windows looking out onto the bar's forest and grounds.

The Bar has read their minds and set the room up accordingly - with a long low padded bench for Athelstan to lay on while Sinric massages him. The lights are low, the glass tinted to give the room a warm, protective feel.

And a basket in the corner for Athelstan's dog and his bone.

Sinric sets up the incense the bar gave him - an eastern blend that Sinric has always found deeply soothing. He plugs his little music player into the speakers and sets it to play the soft chanting music of the Buddhist temple in the Sinese Empire.

He holds a hand out to Athelstan and draws him close, offering him a warm hug if he wants it before gesturing for him to undress.

{after this and left here.}

To Athelstan and Ragnar,

Forgive me, beloveds. A thing had happened that had given me the great need time alone to think. You need not trouble yourself; it is not a shadow that falls on you, but stands between myself and another.

I have taken food and provisions, and look forward to testing the lessons you have taught me.

I will return in three days, before the moon is full.

Forgive that I went without speaking to you but my heart is heavy and I don’t yet have the words to explain what is in my heart in this matter. Know that I love you both with all my heart and will see you soon.

The Lark, to your Raven and Dove.

{From here}

Sinric gets up slowly, stretching all of his finely toned dancer's body. He's not doing it on purpose, to excite or tease. It's just the way he is, almost careless in his sensuality.

He offers Athelstan a hand and a kiss before leading him to the bathroom.

{From here}

Their rooms are as neat as ever but there are signs of Ragnar's presence - horn cups on the mantle, a tunic draped over the back of a chair.

Sinric guides Athelstan to sit on the edge of the bed. "Can I get you some mead? Or something to eat?"

{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."

{From here.}

Sinric walks with Athelstan, up the stairs and into their rooms joined by magical doors that lead to different places.

"Would you help me out of this?" He gestures to the wide collar of gold and stars. "The clasps are at the back."

{from here}

Sin leads Athelstan outside, hand in hand. The sun has just set and the first stars are coming out. Sin draws him gently to an out of the way corner where the grass is soft and there's a view of the sky over the lake. "Here, lay down with me."

He stretches out on the grass, his white blouse riding up to reveal creamy flesh framed by his low slung jeans.

{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.