athelstanthescribe | (no subject)

Athelstan pulls away a little as the kiss ends, looking down at Ragnar.

"Do you love me as I love you, with that shining? Understand that whatever you answer, it changes nothing."

"That glow," Ragnar says, "doesn't go away -- and yes, I love you like that. I can't know what it feels like for you, but I know that there's a light where you are, for me, that shows me you're there and you're you, and that I'm aware of every moment you're there. I can't leave you alone; it's what Ganymede and those others saw on me, long ago, in the magic place."

Pause.

"Sometimes, it makes me silly and incautious because that light just wants to glow."

"I know." He brushes his lips against Ragnar's in a short teasing kiss. "And that's why I let you, because I can never resist you unless the danger is real and present. I could no more stand against you than against myself."

"Sometimes," Ragnar admits, "I throw food at you, or sit on you in the training ground, just because I can and you're there. And I can't do what I'd rather do."

Athelstan chuckles quietly.

"Do you think I didn't guess that? Your attention is always on me when we're in the same room, and if sometimes you can't contain it..."

"I can't catch you and kiss you," Ragnar says. "I can't just pinch your bottom. I can't even look too long and deeply into your eyes. So I get childish at times."

"I understand", he answers softly. "It's all you can do safely in public, and I never thought less of you for it."

Even if sometimes he rolls his eyes.

"How do you manage to contain it?" Ragnar says. "You're so very sensible most of the time."

"I've had much more practice", is all he can say. "Remember where I grew up... even if I never felt like this for anyone then. The other part is that I remember the consequences if I don't. To be driven away from you..."

Ragnar's arms tighten around Athelstan, as the very idea makes him shudder.

"It's always riskier for you than for me," he murmurs.

"I don't care about my reputation for itself. I could move on and make a new one." He meets Ragnar's eyes. "But doing that would tear me apart."

"I'd never allow anyone to drive you away," Ragnar says. "But it would make things increasingly hard, and not in a good way."

"I know. So we keep being careful, and my love for you grows every hour." He drops his head to rest on Ragnar's shoulder. "There are passages in the Bible about it."

"About love between people, not just that of your god?" Ragnar says.

"Yes. It's said to be the greatest virtue. It's in the writings of Saint Paul, one of the fathers of the church, that in the end, three things will endure - faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love."

"And that's for people among each other?" Ragnar says.

He shifts a little on the bracken, and tangles their legs. With his bare foot, he touches Athelstan's.

"Yes. It doesn't mean only lovers, though of course it can." He presses his foot against Ragnar's. "The point is that love, real love - well, as you said, that glow doesn't go away."

Closing his eyes for a moment, he recites from memory a much-loved passage.

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

"Only love makes us people," Ragnar muses, after listening raptly to what Athelstan had been quoting. "You god is wise, for saying such a thing."

He's not going to point out the irony that the worshippers of that god disapprove of all fleshly love so much; from what he remembers of the magic place, that was 'strictly historical circumstances' or some such thing.

"That was from a letter written by one of our saints. But I do believe that though he was a mortal man, at least on that occasion, he heard the voice of God and set it down rightly."

"Were there moments when he was wrong, as a mortal man, and your traditions know about that?" Ragnar asks.

"Oh yes. No mortal man is perfect, and he didn't even come to God until quite late in life."

"But he wrote very beautifully about love," Ragnar says, pulling Athelstan closer and leaning in for a kiss.

"He did." Athelstan kisses him back. "It's perhaps my favourite chapter."

"It is lovely poetry, as beautiful as anything we quote from the Eddas," Ragnar says.

"And it's at the heart of the Christian faith, though you may have seen things to make you doubt that."

Edited 2015-05-31 19:16 (UTC)