(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan leads Sinric into their familiar rooms, not forcing any decision on him but careful not to push too hard for choices at the moment.

"Do you want a drink?"

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric drifts around their rooms like a ghost, touching things as if needing to reassure himself of the reality of them. Putting sense back to memory.

He doesn't seem to hear the question at first but as he runs his hands over the furs of the bed, he nods. "Yes." Then as an after thought. "Please?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Of course." He moves to the table with its few bottles and begins pouring Sinric's favourite. "Whatever you want."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric huff an almost silent little laugh and drifts back over to Athelstan.

Fingers brush and linger a moment as he takes the cup from Athelstan.

His eyes hold Athelstan's; warm, even as the rest of him seems shell-shocked. "Thank you." For so much more than the drink.

[athelstanthescribe]

He inclines his head, a wordless 'you're welcome'.

"How long has it been?" he asks quietly, a way in to the subject of what happened to Sinric that can equally well be dropped there.

[thewidewideworld]

"Four years." He takes a shallow draft, and then a deeper one. "Maybe more. I was... ill, for a long time."

The third draft drains the cup and Sinric stairs at is as if unsure how he drank it so fast.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan picks up the bottle to offer a refill.

"Did you make your way to Japan?"

[thewidewideworld]

He shakes his head and holds the cup out for another. "Not yet. We're waiting for that mission. Yan and I are in the lands of the Khans, a trade negotiation with one of the Great Khan's younger brothers."

Even talking, he still doesn't sound quite solid, like he's dreaming.

[athelstanthescribe]

He pours.

"He takes you with him wherever he's sent, then?"

The dreaminess is worrying, but he hopes it might pass.

[thewidewideworld]

"I act as his scribe, his translator. His other eyes. And occasionally, as a distraction to draw the eyes of others. It works well for us both."

The alcohol is starting to warm him. "I dreamt of finding my way back so many times." He whispers absently, touching the furs again. "I can't tell if this is real."

{ooc: last one before bed. Must. put.. phone... down!}

[athelstanthescribe]

"It is." Athelstan moves to his side again to touch him lightly. "I promise you, it is."

[thewidewideworld]

He leans into the touch for a long, silent moment before setting the cup down. "In my mind I have come back to you over and over. And always I have known what to do and so. Yet if this is truly real; here am I, dumbstruck."

He turns to face Athelstan. "May I... embrace you?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"You may do whatever you like", he says softly, "my Sinric."

[thewidewideworld]

He falls carefully into Athelstan's arms, face buried in his hair. There are tears but he does his best to hide them. "There was never a day I didn't think of you."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan steers him gently towards the bed, so they can sit.

"And now here you are."

[thewidewideworld]

He sits gladly, his knees shaking. One hand goes to the fur again, as if the texture was a touchstone for him.

He leans back a moment to look at Athelstan. "How long has it been, for you? You seem just as I remember."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan hesitates, but then tells him the truth.

"Not more than a month."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric huffs a pained laugh. "Then you won't even have missed me." It comes out a little more bitter than it should.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Not as you have missed me", he says quietly. "But your absence wasn't - we did feel it."

[thewidewideworld]

"Then Ragnar is still here?" He nods, trying not to let old pain leak into his present. "I'm glad for you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"He is. We've been - " He hesitates. "You'll remember when we couldn't be here at the same time. We haven't been - tempting fate."

[thewidewideworld]

He nods, such memories are precious to him, as all memories of them are. "Then the marks we lay in each other will only be freshly healed for you?"

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan nods back. "Healed enough not to be raw, but still quite fresh."

[thewidewideworld]

"I am so grateful for the mark you give me. It was... my only anchor for a long time. When I was sure I had no hope left-" he trails off, biting his lip.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Sinric." His presence is solid and there. "I'm glad it could be some small hope for you."

[thewidewideworld]

He reaches to embrace Athelstan again, holding and being held for some time.