Re: Museum: Connor and Ragnar
"No. I suppose not," Ragnar managed a chuckle, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. "You would not come to bed with me, I doubt you would have agreed to be my husband." He had accepted that as a truth a long time ago. He had made himself accept that it would never be between them. But his love for Athelstan had never faded despite that. It was a power all of its own. "You were not her competition, no. She found my love for you to be charming. She teased me often that I would never get to lay with you, and how I had managed to fall in love with the one person I would not know in that way. She said it would teach me a lesson."
He smiled fondly at the thought of his wife. At the eyerolls and the sympathy she had given him in turn for his ridiculous pining. But Athelstan's story was continuing, and Ragnar's attention returned to him fully. It was nothing he had heard of before. Well, Fae, there had been talk of them, musings, but no one had ever said them to be real.
A dark expression took over his face at the squeeze, at the mention of the Prince. Oh, Ragnar was very willing to hate him. "Did he harm you?" he asked, grip tightening on his companions' hand. "I will find him and destroy him if he harmed you." It was fascinating, though. The story. The way he had been returned.
"Why did it lift?" he wondered out loud, not sure that Athelstan would have the answer, either. "I am sorry you lost your other brother," Ragnar added, bringing Athelstan's fingers to his lips again. "But your time has been interesting. The Fae- it is fascinating. You will come and visit me, tell me in more detail, please?" His eyes lit up slightly. "You were a little fairy boy."