OOM: AU week, for Sinric

[bigarmy_strangepants]

 Ragnar walks outside, holding Sinric's hand, the ravens following with great curiosity.

Especially about the wings.

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[thewidewideworld]

During the walk, his shine dims a little, diminishing with the calm. But where their hands press, he still shines. It's a sad signs of just how touch-starved he is.

"It's beautiful here. I didn't know there was a lake."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"There is a lake, and a forest, and mountains, and a gravel plain beyond them," Ragnar says. "And a clearing in the woods with a pond and water flowers, which the ravens like to relax by."

He keeps holding Sinric's hand while the birds circle overhead.

[thewidewideworld]

"A little paradise, safe and beautiful." He smiles longingly. His fingers rub gently against Ragnar's, his flames caressing the Viking's skin without harm. "I can see why you and your ravens enjoy it so."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Oh, they hate the way the currents in the sky are wonky," Ragnar says. "You have to actually look to know where you are. But the individual spots are lovely, once you are there."

[thewidewideworld]

"This place confuses your abilities?" He asks softly, his fingers brushing over Ragnar's wrist, just as Ragnar did for him.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Oh yes," Ragnar says. "There is no north here."

[thewidewideworld]

"How strange! That must be uncomfortable for you?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Yes, especially for the ravens," Ragnar says. "But the advantages make up for it."

[thewidewideworld]

"Advantages?" He asks, tilting his head to look up at him.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Knowledge," Ragnar says. "People to meet. Food. Maps."

[thewidewideworld]

He nods, looking up at Ragnar. His gold has diminished to a dull glow, except for his hand where he holds Ragnar's.

He bites his lip, considering if he might ask Ragnar to touch him again but not knowing how. He's not certain how one starts these things. As he's never had to before. "May I..."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar reaches up to touch Sinric's cheek.

"Whatever you like."

He desires nothing, except to see that wondrous golden fire again, and to let Sinric discover himself.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric turns his face into the touch, nuzzling softly before pushing up on his toes to press a tentative kiss to the corner of Ragnar's lips.

The gold of his skin starts to glow again, flames starting to dance in his hair.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar touches the glowing hair, loving the feeling of the power in that golden shimmer.

"You are so lovely," he breathes.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sniffs is quiet joy. That's the first time anyone has ever said that to him, about him, rather than about what he becomes. His wings start to form again, soft and insubstantial but there.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar watches them, hardly daring to reach out with his free hand.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric turns a little to show them better, still ghostly and faint as his nerves jangle. They only become solid when he's at his most content. "If you touch me, they might form faster."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar nods, reaches out, and touches the wings.

[thewidewideworld]

They feel like the flames, warm and alive under Ragnar's fingers, coming into solidness almost as Ragnar touches them.

Sinric's breath quickens and he trembles, his face flushed with gold.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"This is amazing," Ragnar says, softly, running his hands over Sinric's shoulders.

[thewidewideworld]

The youth is near breathless now, the sensitive feathers sending waves of warmth and need through him.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar bends his head and gently kisses Sinric's forehead.

[thewidewideworld]

His wings surge brightly, spreading wider and gaining solidity.

"Please?" Unsure exactly what it is he's begging for.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar cups Sinric'S chin in his big rough hand, and plants a chaste kiss on the golden creature's lovely lips.

[thewidewideworld]

"Oh!" Sinric gasps, a shudder running through him as his wings turn bright as solid. Not broad and rounded like those of a Christian angel but long and lean, like a petrel. His feathers as gold and flame, warm as sun-soaked brass.