(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan actually comes in through the door this time, instead of a random appearance through the trees - and apparently straight from a rainstorm.

Excuse him dripping all over the floor while he makes for the fire.

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

That's a lot of water. And it doesn't look warm.

Finishing her cookie, the red-headed ten-year-old at a nearby table goes and fetches a couple of big, fluffy towels from the Bar, and a cup of hot tea.

"You okay?" she asks, cautiously approaching the person by the fire around the end of the couch.

[athelstanthescribe]

He glances up and immediately smiles at the child reassuringly. "Much better now, thank you - and thank you for those, if they're for me."

[sunbaked_baker]

"They are," she nods, coming closer. The fragrantly steaming cup of tea is set on the coffee table in between the fireplace and the couch, before she offers the towels. "It's not good to stay all wet."

She is wearing worn green sneakers, second-hand jeans - a few of the decorative plastic 'jewels' have come off some time ago - and a faded pink t-shirt that is somewhat too big for her. She is a sensible ten, though small for her age.

"Good thing the bar showed up... though will you have to go back out into the rain again when you go back?"

[athelstanthescribe]

He accepts the towels and slings one around his shoulders, using the other to try and dry his curls (and looking curiously at her clothes, both for the style and the entirely unfamiliar colours in clothing, but unconcerned by the slight raggedness, he sees that all the time).

"Luckily, no. I was stepping back inside."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, good," Rae says, smiling easily, though there's curiosity in her look as well. She has never seen anyone dressed as he is.

"Where're you from?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Lindisfarne, in the kingdom of Northumbria", he tells her and pauses before adding, "In the year of our Lord 793."

[sunbaked_baker]

The girl shows no recognition to the place name, but her eyes widen upon hearing the year. Being ten, and not having met people from other worlds than Earth yet, she easily assumes his calender matches with the Earth calender she is familiar with.

"Oh wow, you're from a long time ago," the girl breathes, amazed. "I'm from the city of New Arcadia, in the country of Independencia, in 1986."

"I'm Rae," she adds, remembering that she hadn't included that part.

[athelstanthescribe]

In this case, she's most likely right, so that's OK!

"Athelstan", he answers in kind. "And yes, I do seem to be from a long time ago for most people here. I don't know your country, I'm afraid, but perhaps that's to be expected."

[sunbaked_baker]

The girl grins a bit. "Nice to meet you, Athelstan," she says, the name very carefully pronounced so she won't get it wrong.

"It makes sense you wouldn't have heard of it - it's still pretty new, compared to a lot of countries. Just a couple of centuries." Which sounds like a long time to her, but she only has a decade of life to compare it with. "I don't know where your Northumbria is, compared to Independencia."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Very nice to meet you as well, Rae." He thinks about that. "Have you heard of England?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"I have!" she nods. "People here have sometimes mentioned it as what Albion is called in their worlds."

"Independencia is faaaaaaar over the ocean to the west of Albion."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Then that's where it is in relation to England." He smiles. "Though I'd never heard of there being any land there at all."

[sunbaked_baker]

"It just may not have been discovered yet," she replies, not remembering the specific time frame that may have been mentioned in school. "There're people there already, but they don't know about England any more than England knows about them."

[capture_eternity]

It's a sopping wet little monk in a habit and cowl, right out of some medieval tale!

How positively cute!

Dorian approaches with a smile. "I think you need a towel, brother," he says, "and then a good hot drink, to warm you inside and out?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Both would be welcome", he says gratefully. "I would have brewed a herb drink if this was home."

[capture_eternity]

Dorian thinks about what medieval monks drank for warmth. Tea and coffee weren't invented yet, so the obvious solution of those with a dash of brandy is out.

"What about some mulled wine?" he suggests, getting a towel from the bar with a murmured command and handing it to the little monk. "Mulled cider, perhaps?"

[athelstanthescribe]

What Dorian is given is the kind of rough woven cloth Athelstan is used to, so he takes it without a blink and starts trying to dry his hair.

"Hot cider would go very well", he agrees.

[capture_eternity]

So a plain clay goblet of mulled cider follows next, to be handed to the monk. "Here you are," Dorian says. "How did you get so wet?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Rain", he says simply. "A great deal of rain. Thank you."

[capture_eternity]

"And in your time, people didn't yet have umbrellas, I suppose," Dorian says. "So, no alternative to getting wet or staying inside, which sometimes isn't an option."

Pause.

"What time are you from?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"I had my duties to do", he says with a shrug. "The year of our Lord 793."

[capture_eternity]

"Oh, that is early!" Dorian says. "The dark ages! Where are you from?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"It is not the dark ages", Athelstan says indignantly. "I'm from Lindisfarne."

[capture_eternity]

"There's a very famous volume of gospels from your monastery," Dorian says. "Now the pride of the British Library, in my time! It is quite lovely."

[athelstanthescribe]

"We take pride in our work, in the name of God."