(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

As he leaves the church, Athelstan can feel the stares. Everyone looking at him, everyone watching him, as they do every minute of every day where there's anyone to see. The unredeemed apostate or the king's pet pagan, it hardly matters why they're staring, and he can't even run, and suddenly it's too much.

By the time he reaches the door to his room, he's shaking and sweating - and as it turns out, it isn't the door to his room.

He makes it to the nearest chair, sinks down into it with a trembling hand pressed to his chest, and tries to remember how to breathe.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric spots him from his place by the fire and rushes to fetch Athelstan a glass of water, kneeling at his feet to hold it out to him. "Athelstan? Beloved?"

[athelstanthescribe]

He takes it and almost spills it.

"Sinric. They just - won't stop watching."

[thewidewideworld]

"You are here now, and you are safe." He assures softly, coming up to steady the glass of Athelstan. "Drink and catch your breath, then we may go somewhere more private."

He knows what it is to have too many eyes on you. How it feels as if your very soul is exposed. Better to find somewhere away from people till the panic of it passes.

[athelstanthescribe]

He nods, eyes wide, sips at the water and tries to force his breathing to even out.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric takes the glass from him and sits on the edge of the chair, cupping Athelstan's shoulders and holding his eyes. He breathes with Athelstan, just as the good doctor did with him and guides him to slow.

[athelstanthescribe]

He looks like he might be sick if he lets himself think about the panic, so instead he just looks into Sinric's eyes and does nothing but breathe.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric knows the feeling all too well and sits and helps Athelstan breathe steadily for as long as he needs. His eyes are soft and hold no pity but a great depth of understanding.

[athelstanthescribe]

Eventually, with Sinric's calm presence and guidance, he manages to get things under control.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

At some stage, when Athelstan gets to the bar, he will be given a message, written in large, somewhat ungainly letters and iffy spelling:

We found the kids and wiman and Rollo in a lownly farm in the hi lands. They are save. Divvel went to Kattegat and counted enemys and made Fiekr come back to farm with him. He is with the kids and they love him so I better not bring him here. I now go back as I had an ideer how to draw out the enemys from our home and will try find peeple to help. I hope you are there when I come in the next time. I hope the English king treets you well. I miss you and will come for you when we have our home back and some new ships or we take the ships from Jarl Borg and come over with them but Floki will say they are bad ships and not good for crossing the real sea. But I will make them all hurry because I l miss you. Ragnarr!!

[onceaviking]

He is being watched here too.
From the shadows.

This gaze is wholly impassive though.

[athelstanthescribe]

He seems to sense it, and panicked eyes turn that way.

[onceaviking]

Eric is leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of him.

[athelstanthescribe]

In some strange way, the sight seems to calm him a little. At least Eric is a known quantity.

[onceaviking]

Eric pushes away from the wall and walks closer.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is trying to force his breathing to even out, with limited success.

[onceaviking]

"You are being loud," he says, quietly, as he stops in front of him.

[athelstanthescribe]

"I don't -" He wheezes. "Know how to stop."

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman sees him, and approaches.

"Athelstan," he says. "You look almost worse than last time. What happened?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Eyes", he says between shallow breaths. "Always watching me."

[witchfinder_general]

"And quite obviously too much for you," Father Harman says, noticing how panicked Athelstan is. "You need some tea, and perhaps fresh air with nobody about."

Unless...

"Whose eyes?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"...Winchester's."

Yes, all of Winchester, or it feels like it.

[witchfinder_general]

"The people there?" Father Harman asks, gesturing to a rat for tea. "Because you're a stranger, and a suspect heathen?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"They know what we did. And I'm the only one left."

He's still struggling for air, but not quite as badly.

[witchfinder_general]

"You're having a panic attack, that is, physical manifestations of your fear," Father Harman says. "Before we talk, you have to stop hyperventilating. Look at me and breathe in and out with me, slowly."

He squats down in front of Athelstan and looks him in the face, breathing slowly.

[athelstanthescribe]

The words 'panic attack' bring back what Alana taught him, and he starts to imagine the warm light travelling slowly up his body from his toes.

One, two, three, he counts silently.