Re: Museum: Connor and Ragnar
"The world is full of old spirits," Athelstan said quietly, and smiled a little at Ragnar when he mentioned the old things here. There were no doubt artifacts and objects from centuries and cultures long past, but there were probably few things that were as old as they were. Even if Athelstan's years had passed differently than when he was a human.
"You were never fond of speeches," he remarked dryly, eyes crinkling at the corners. The Ragnar of old had preferred actions to words, though he had always seemed to choose his words with care. "And what is this conference on?"
His fingers stroked over the soft space between Ragnar's knuckles as they walked down the hallway and into his office. "You don't have to do that. I'll find something --" though it felt an awful lot like he might find something that would keep him away from Ragnar, decide he didn't like it, and end up here anyway. That didn't even have the decency to surprise him.
The clutter was -- surprising, and warming. Their lives before had been simple in terms of belongings, the most important things being relationships and times spent together. Would it be different now?
"Thank you," he murmured as he looked around the room, at the artifacts that reminded him of years past and the man that occupied his past, present, and future. There was so much that had to be said, but they had time, didn't they? At least a little bit as he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and watched Ragnar, like he was seeing for the first time in centuries.
But only here, as he looked at Ragnar in his office did it occur to him that -- "Am I interrupting your work, Ragnar?" He paused. "I can come back later if that would be better."