milliways_bar | Ye Olde Sunday Multipup Post

Over the mountains, a thunderstorm is gathering; in an hour or perhaps even just thirty minutes, it might be pouring down. But as yet, people are about, among them:

Teja, who is wandering the woods and the lakeside looking for canine activity. So far, he has found the traces of a veritable pack and several humans with them, but somehow he suspects that Buster the Inept was not part of that merry outing. Furthermore, he found two dead demonic rabbits, but they were too far gone for him to see if they were killed by a dog. Also, he doubts that Buster would be able to kill these creatures. When it starts raining, he will make his way back to the bar.
Father Pearse Harman is on the lawn, having afternoon tea complete with scones and cream. He is reading a book with it, and ignoring the weather so far. He is, after all, English.
Dr. Hannibal Lecter is two tables over, on the lawn as well, with coffee and drawing utensils. He is drawing dogs in sepia pencil.
Ragnar Lothbrok is in the bar-room itself, ordering things from the bar which he stows into two rather small bags. He has a paper on a table which he looks at from time to time. Apparently, the Viking is planning to leave.
Lady Margolotta is sitting in a dark corner of the bar, far away from the windows, checking things off in a large ledger. The table around it is covered in papers that look like lists.

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Sinric nod, opening his arms to Ragnar. "He left me one much the same." He offers Ragnar what comfort he can in the hug. "You will reach him."

"But how will he be when I finally get to him?" Ragnar says, softly. "He was doing badly enough here, and there, with that King..."

Sinric takes Ragnar's hands, looking him in the eye. "He will need you, but on his own terms. Let him guide you."

His eyes colour softly gold. "That king is more like you than you know."

"No," Ragnar says. "I doubt it -- he threatened Athelstan with crucifixion!"

"And you never threatened Athelstan when you first took him as a slave?" Sinric asks archly.

"Not like that," Ragnar says. "Not pretending to be his friend, and then dealing out death threats like lightning from a blue sky."

Sinric doesn't answer that, in his mind seeing a young monk on his knees, a rope around his neck and Ragnar advancing in him with a knife in hand. That Ragnar cut the rope and not his throat didn't change the fear Athelstan felt in that moment. Or after, when Ragnar's temper turned mercurial.

"He will be safe till you reach him. Even content in a way. But he must be allowed to choose his own path. He will walk by your side only as a free man."

"Yes," Ragnar says. "I can see that. He needs to leave that English tyrant on his own volition."

Sinric frowns and hugs him tighter. "I understand why seers are so vague. It's hard to explain what I see, or how the threads tangle. But that English tyrant, he will play a great part in your futures, both of you. And not always as an adversary. I know you can't believe me now, but you will understand one day."

"I still don't trust the man as far as my little Sigurd can throw him," Ragnar says, doubtfully.

Sinric laughs. "Nor should you." He reaches up and kisses Ragnar's forehead, standing on tip-toes. His hand covers the tattoo on Ragnar's arm as he does.

"It's always about Athelstan first," Ragnar says. "One man I am going to kill dead at the first chance, though, is the bishop."

"Just so, beloved." He cups Ragnar's cheek. "Just so."

"I want him back," Ragnar blurts out, "and I want him healed, and for whatever I did to him when I first knew him, I'm so very sorry!"

Sinric pulls Ragnar into a tight hug, holding him close. "This will pass. To all things a season, but seasons change."

"And there will be light again for our Athelstan?" Ragnar says, softly.

"Brighter than you or I will ever know." Sinric answers, his voice soft with sadness.

"That is good," Ragnar says. "Will he leave us, though? Go back to his faith?"

Sinric drops his eyes, biting his lip. "Ragnar, there are reasons why seers talk in riddles. Because we know more than it is pleasant to tell."

"Faith will trouble Athelstan. All the days of his life." he swallows the lie with care. All but the last days. "He will hear Jesus in the rain but Thor in the storm. You must do is love him, and give him strength through his struggles."

Ragnar nods. "I love him, and if that is what he needs from me, then we both win," Ragnar says, softly.

"Just so, beloved." Sinric swallows, trying not to think about what he knows of Athelstan's last days. "Just so."

"I hope I get to keep my promises," Ragnar says, softly.

Sinric nods, drawing Ragnar into a soft kiss. "You will, beloved. But go, go and get him."

Ragnar gently kisses him back.

"Yes," he says. "I will."

{ooc: fade there?}

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bigarmy_strangepants - 2017-05-25 12:51 (UTC) - Expand