For Athelstan

[onceaviking]

His room is neat.
The laptop is switched on, the decanter in the low table has been refilled with wine, the bed is made.

He turns on the light as they enter and turns to look at Athelstan.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

He understands, though he still murmurs a wordless, mostly involuntary, protest and curls into the bedsheets as Eric moves away.

[onceaviking]

Eric settles down on the edge of the bed, running both hands through his hair.

Savoring the taste.

[athelstanthescribe]

After a while, Athelstan pulls together the energy to sit up and look at him.

"Eric?"

[onceaviking]

"Hmm?" Eric says, turning a little to look at him over his shoulder.

[athelstanthescribe]

"You're very quiet", he says by way of explanation, still in Old Norse. "Are you all right?"

[onceaviking]

The corners of his lips twitch a little.

"I was just - thinking," he replies.
"Remembering."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Remembering?"

He knows that his blood reminds Eric of his human life, and the single word is a gentle prompt that Eric can brush off if he chooses.

[onceaviking]

He nods.

"Sometimes, I feel my years," he says then. "All of them. "
Nodding a little to himself.


Then he looks back at Athelstan.
"How are you? Feeling faint?"

He can't talk about it.

[athelstanthescribe]

"A little", he admits. "Not so that I can't sit up."

Walking might be another matter.

[onceaviking]

Eric hesitates. Then he says,"If it is bad, my blood can help. It might make you feel - off for a little while, but the effects seem to dissipate fairly quickly here."

He looks over at the low table.
"Or there's wine?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"I think I'll try the wine, first." He knows the effects of that, and they're predictable. "If that fails..."

He isn't sure how bad it's going to be, until he gets his feet under him and the room starts spinning.

[onceaviking]

Eric reaches over and steadies him with a huge, cool hand.

"I'll get it," he says and gets up to fetch a glass of wine.
Very naked. Very unconcerned about that fact.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan sits back down on the bed, looking discombobulated.

"Did you take more than the other times? I know there were more bites, but it's hard to tell..."

[onceaviking]

Eric returns with a full wine glass and hands it to him, looking at him.
"A little more. I - "
He smiles.

"I found you hard to resist."

[athelstanthescribe]

He takes the wine and drinks a little, with a curious cock of his head.

"My blood is a rarity? Even here?"

[onceaviking]

"Even here. "

He sits down again, at the edge of the bed.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan watches him, unfazed by nudity when there's this distance between them - he grew up in a community of men who shared living space, after all.

"Then perhaps I ought to ration it", he says, teasing.

[onceaviking]

"That would be cruel," Eric says with a mock pout.
And then the pout melts into a thoughtful expression.

"I don't think you'd want that. To be cruel."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Not on purpose", he agrees sincerely, if with a touch of amusement left over from seeing Eric pout. "I wouldn't enjoy it."

[onceaviking]

"No,"Eric says, looking at him.
"You wouldn't. Drink your wine."

[athelstanthescribe]

He takes another swallow, obediently.

"Where's it from?"

[onceaviking]

"France. From a - France."

He doesn't really know what had possessed him to ask for that particular wine.
He's not one for sentimentality.

[athelstanthescribe]

"They are known for it", he says with a nod, "even in my time. The Romans liked Gaulish wine."

And... all wine, really.

[onceaviking]

He nods.
"Yes," he says. And then, "I spent some time there once. With a girl. I haven't tasted it. Obviously."

Being a vampire.
There are so many experiences he will never have.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Some time... with one girl", he echoes, not quite a question. "And after your turning... did your people have access to wine?"