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Sinric's in his favourite spot by the fire, a notepad balanced on his knee. He's been working on this list for an hour now and is getting nowhere with it.

He rips off a page and carefully folds it into a origami chrysanthemum. After a moment's consideration, he tosses it into the fire. He lingers, watching it catch, flare and burn.

He looks back to the pad, pushing his hair back from his face and starts again.

Distractions would be most welcome.

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"Is that magic?" asks the voice of Ragnar Lothbrok from behind Sinric's chair, low and soft as it is most of the time.

He tries not to jump. And fails. "Ragnar!" He holds a hand over his heart.

He looks down at the notepad and frowns, "No, not magic. I'm just... trying to think about what I might need, when I go back."

Ragnar puts a hand on his shoulder. "But why do you fold your writing into a flower and then burn it?"

That sounds like magic to him.

Sinric gently takes Ragnar's hand and pulls it across his chest in an half embrace, wanting his friend and lover's warmth.

"It is a thing the followers of Buddha do. To write their troubles down, dwell on them only as long as it takes to fold them into something beautiful and then let them go. There are holy days when such folded troubles are floated away down a great river by the thousand. It's... quite moving."

"Perhaps I should do that with my worries about Athelstan," Ragnar says. "Sometimes, it feels as if I had lost him already."

He pulls Ragnar a little closer, hugging him a little more fiercely. "It is something to try." He nods, his own worries mirroring Ragnar's.

"Can you fold paper into birds, too?"

He tightens his arms around Sinric and sighs.

He nods and takes another page, writing on it in the flowing letters of Nippon. Satisfied with the short lines of characters, he squares off the sheet and begins to fold.

"There is an ancient belief in Nippon, that if one folds a thousand cranes, the gods will grant a single wish." His hands move deftly and with the grace of a dance to form the little bird.

"It's a sacrifice of a lot of time," Ragnar says. "But if it means I can ask them to free Athelstan's soul from that darkness..."

"That would be a very noble wish." He hugs Ragnar tight, resting his head on Ragnar's shoulder. "But fetching him from England would be better."

Ragnar sighs deeply.

"Yes, that would be best. But for that, we would both have to leave here."

"He is not willing to go?"

He sighs. "I spoke to Mistress Seddon recently. She too is... caught, between uncertainty of the future and safety of this place. It made me realise I too was... hesitating to go back." He glances over his shoulder. "I have to go soon."

"Perhaps that might inspire him to leave as well," Ragnar says.

"I hoped to talk to him before I go. To both of you." He taps the pen on the paper. "For all I know it could be meany years before I find the door again. I hope we can part in happiness."

"I don't think happiness is something he can reach for right now," Ragnar says, unhappily.

Sinric pulls Ragnar close and just holds him, his face pressed warmly against Ragnar's neck.

"I would do anything if I could help," Ragnar sighs. "But I have to accept that I can't."

"Perhaps all we can do is refuse to give up on him." Sinric muses softly. "So he knows we will be here for him, when there is something we can do."

"I wonder what practical shape that could take, though," Ragnar says. "Without putting pressure on him."

"I don't know." Sinric admits with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I wish I did. I feel as if I've failed him, that I've failed both of you."

"I failed him," Ragnar says. "But you definitely didn't fail me."

Sinric shakes his head, leaning up to hug Ragnar tighter. "You haven't failed him. You're never given up on him. That matters."

"But I'm not helping," Ragnar says. "I even sometimes feel like part of the problem."

"As do I." He confesses, resting his head on Ragnar's shoulder. "But I don't think letting him slip away will help either."

"No, no," Ragnar says, shaking his head.

He reaches up to sink a hand into Sinric's hair.

"I'm not going to do that, ever."

Sinric cuddles close, warmed by the touch. Sinric feels safest in Ragnar's arms. He just wishes Athelstan could feel this again.

"I want to talk with him before I go."

Edited 2016-10-08 14:05 (UTC)

Ragnar leans his cheek against Sinric's head. "Sometimes, I wonder if talking even helps any more. He only hears the bad things."

"Doesn't mean we should stop saying the good things." He points out softly.

"Yes, you are right."

Sinric hugs him tighter. "Shall I go look for him now? Or would you like me to stay with you a while?"

Ragnar pulls him tighter, too. "Stay for a little bit?" he says. "Who knows when I will get to hold somebody in my arms again."

Sinric hugs back, burying his face in Ragnar's neck. "That's... one of the things I have been writing and trying to cast aside. The fear that I will be gone again for many years. That I will be many years without you."

"It has happened for you before," Ragnar says. "The bar is making you catch up with us, until we all three see each other again in our own world."

"I know. But it means I am alone on my journey for many years. I miss you, deeply."

"I know, and I am sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's. But every greeting makes the parting harder."

"You can have a while with me yet," Ragnar says.

Sinric curls against him, content to hold and be held, as if storing up this affection against future need. "Perhaps when I return, you will both be home and safe in Kattigat."

"I hope we will be, and he will be healing from what he went through," Ragnar sighs.

"And I will start my journey north, back to Constantinople. Now I know Leo is dead, I will go back and make my peace at my Master's tomb and leave that part of my history behind."

"It's been years," Ragnar says. "I doubt anybody recognises you."

"Aureus has been dead these ten years." He shakes his head. "If there is anyone left who remembers him, they will not see him in me. I have lost much of my youthful beauty and hope."

"And have gained strength and experience," Ragnar says, "skills and magic."

"True." He sighs. "Thank you. I need to be reminded of what I've gained as well as what I've lost."

"We have all come far," Ragnar says, softly. He turns his head to kiss Sinric's cheek.

Sinric turns his head just enough to catch the corner of Ragnar's lips. "Will you come upstairs with me?"

"Oh yes," Ragnar says. "Let us. Let's make memories for your journey."

He offers Ragnar his hand and leads him upstairs.

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