athelstanthescribe | (no subject)

"Several nights", he says softly, "while Luka has been sick and Constantine occupied. Of course I will."

He nods, a little sadly. He turns away to shed his over tunic, stripping down to linen undershirt and light trousers. Enough to feel the warmth and touch but not so much to pressure Athelstan for more than that. Unless he wants it.

He peels back the sheets and stretches out on the bed, holding his arms open to Athelstan.

His ache for contact is almost painful, the need to be held.

He's fallen out of the habit, in the weeks and months he's been a captive, and the psychological causes of his impotence are many. (And possibly include being convinced he won't be able to.)

Silently, he kicks off his shoes and lies down in Sinric's arms.

Sinric tucks himself close in Athelstan's arms, resting his head on Athelstan's shoulder. He strokes Athelstan's arms, hands moving listlessly from shoulder to wrist just to feel the warm, human reality of being held.

"Poor Sinric", he murmurs. "It must have been very lonely for you."

Sinric starts to refute it, trying to sound more confident than he feels but he doesn't feel confident. He feels tired and sad and worried. And having Athelstan's arms around him makes him feel safer. "It... has not been pleasant, no."

"Then for tonight, at least", he says quietly, "we can ease the loneliness for one another."

"Forgive me." He hides his face in Athelstan's shoulder. "I should be stronger; for you, for Luka, for my lord."

"You have been strong", he counters. "Have you ever once let Luka see your sadness, as you cared for his needs night after night?"

"Probus and I are first amongst the Birds. It's our responsibility to take care of the others. Luka needs to know he is loved and protected." So, no. He hasn't let his mask down in days.

"Then don't feel shame for showing it to me. Luka is a sick child, you did right by him - but now you can allow the sadness out, and return to him the stronger for it."

He considers this in silence for a long moment before clinging a little to Athelstan and letting himself relax a little. Slow tears leak down his cheeks, in stillness and silence.

Athelstan holds him close, positioning them so that Sinric can't see the haunted look that never quite leaves his eyes now.

It doesn't take long before the tears dry, letting Athelstan's permission to weaken cleanse his heart a little. "I'm sorry. And thank you."

"You have no cause to be sorry", he says softly. "It would be unforgivably selfish if I were to think myself the only one who suffers."

Sinric shakes his head. "My troubles are so few and trivial," Competitively, "It is I who is being selfish."

Athelstan leans back to look at him.

"Few and trivial? Really?"

"A few nights without much sleep and without the comforts of my master's bed." He shrugs, berating himself for letting so little get so I'm top of him.

The big underlying issues are too much to think about when it is the small and trivial things that have broken him down.

"Being the final straw", Athelstan says gently. "We all have a breaking point."

"Thank you, for being here for me. For letting me-" he cuts himself off.

"You've been here for me", he says simply, "in my darkest hours, which may not yet have passed."

Sinric looks up at Athelstan, stroking his soft hair back. "And bar willing, I will be there for you again. And whenever I can be of use to you."

"I don't want you only for your use, though", Athelstan says softly, twining their fingers. "You know that."

Sinric frowns a little sadly, still feeling lost, separate, apart.

He tries to force a smile, for Athelstan. "How go the translations?"

"I spend most of my waking hours on them", Athelstan tells him. "Unless the king calls me to court or to eat with him."