(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

As he promised to do if he could, as soon as he could, Athelstan returns - with a glance over his shoulder into the room beyond to check it's empty before slipping through the door - but he isn't the man who left.

There's a rope around his neck like a halter, his face is dirty and his robes untidy, and he looks somewhere between lost and humiliated.

Comments

[a1enzo]

"Mister? Are you okay?"

Yes, all right, silly question. Enzo would not have asked if he looked okay.

[athelstanthescribe]

"I'm... alive", he says after a moment, distantly, and not even taking in Enzo's unusual skin colour yet. "And probably staying that way."

[a1enzo]

"That's a good start," Enzo agrees. "But are you okay?"

From behind him, a small nautilus with a shell of the same green flies out and approaches the stranger, making a chiming sound.

"No, Minus, he's probably not in a mood to play."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan blinks at the little creature, and then at its owner with clearer eyes.

"I don't know."

[a1enzo]

Minus has that effect. He darts closer and prods at the rope with tiny tentacles.

"D'you want help with that, for a start?" says Enzo.

[athelstanthescribe]

It's looped loosely over his head, rather than tied dangerously tight. He raises a hand to it.

"Oh - I can take it off, I think. But I mustn't."

[a1enzo]

"How come?"

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman is sitting at a table with a bible and some index cards when Athelstan turns up.

He stands.

"Brother Athelstan," he says. "I'm glad to see you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Father", he says with deep relief. "You can't know how glad I am to see you."

[witchfinder_general]

"Come and sit down," Father Harman says. "Let me take off that rope -- you can put it back on when you leave."

From the next passing waitrat, he orders two cups of tea. Never mind it didn't exist in Athelstan's time -- the man needs it.

[athelstanthescribe]

"I must", he agrees, eyes downcast. "Or it would be noticed."

[witchfinder_general]

"But now, you can have take a breath, collect yourself, forget about being the slave of a Viking for a moment, and talk to me abut what happened," Father Harman says, reaching for the rope but not touching it as he waits fro Athelstan's permission.

Trauma is a strange thing, and he'd rather not assume anything.

[athelstanthescribe]

He bows his head slightly in unspoken permission, allowing Father Harman to lift it over and off.

"I hardly know where to begin."

[lt_blade]

Luck would have it, Sonya was just returning from showering after having worked in the stables. Her hair's damp and tied back into a knot at the back of her head while her clothing is back to her black BDUS.

When she spots Athelstan, she nearly goes up to him with a tight hug, but she notes his posture and changes tactics. Much as she's glad to see him alive, she doesn't want scare him anymore then he probably already was.

Instead she walks over to him, her hurried steps betraying her. "Athelstan..my god, you're alive!"

Maybe not looking in the best of shape, but he was alive.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Grace be to God", he murmurs, "yes, I am. It's good to see you."

[lt_blade]

Only when he's aware of her does she embrace him in a hug, noting that even through the robe his body's tense as a wire spring. There's also the feel of the rope around her neck and bile rises to her throat when she's all too aware of what it means.

He's alive, that's the main thing. He's alive.

"Come on, sit down. You look ready to jump out of your skin." She leads him over a nearby table and some chairs, ordering some tea and whiskey from a waitrat. Much as she wasn't a drinker herself, he looked in need of something stronger then tea. "Before anything, lets get the rope off of you. You're not a slave here."

[athelstanthescribe]

He doesn't quite hug her back, but his hands rest on her arms in a gesture of similar meaning.

"It must go back on before I leave."

[lt_blade]

She takes the gesture for what it is before letting him sit down.

"Before you go back, but inside here it comes off." Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady, a matter of effort on her part. "One of the rules of this place-no outside business. You're not a slave here, no one should treat you like one."

A wait rat comes by with a tray bearing a tea pot and two mugs, along with a small bottle of Jack Daniels. Much as Sonya wanted to ask him what happened, if he was in shock she knew she wasn't going to get much of an answer just yet. Instead she just poured him some tea, along with some sugar and a small drop of whiskey.

"Here, something to steady you."

[athelstanthescribe]

He wraps his hands around the mug, trying to force them to stay steady, and sniffs curiously at the drink.

"What is it?"

[equal_of_any_man]

Olivier rushes to him, his hands outstretches to steady his friend. "Athelstan! My brother." He pulls him into a hug without hesitation.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Olivier", he says with deep relief, leaning against the taller man. "You kept your word."

[equal_of_any_man]

"And hope I will be true till the day of judgement." Olivier answers seriously as he rubs Athelstan's back to warm him. "Come by the fire and let me fetch you tea. You look as if your road has been a hard one."

[athelstanthescribe]

"It has, and one closed behind me as I walked it." He lets Olivier lead him to the fire.

[equal_of_any_man]

Olivier chafes Athelstan's cold hands, sending rats running for tea and brandywine. The rope halter makes him so very angry but he fights to keep his ire down. "Let me take this off you, my brother? How have you come to be bound so?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"For the reason I still live", he says quietly. "No longer in my own land, and a slave."