Brother Athelstan (athelstan_) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-03-15 11:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who: Athelstan and Desmond
What: Monking around
When: Friday morning
Rating: Low? Godly
Status: Closed//ongoing
Despite the young French girl showing Athelstan the accomodation that the rest of the prisoners on the island had been living in, Athelstan found himself increasingly uncomfortable with the unseen power that lingered around it all. The way things worked, the magic behind them, he didn't understand it and he didn't trust that it wasn't some kind of dangerous witchcraft. The beds were vast and comfortable, too. The water came out of metal tubes and was heated somewhere else, and it was too much. It was too much for him.
Athelstan took himself off to the church again, the church that was in pieces, crumbling, because it felt more like he should have been there. Sleeping on the floor of the church, curled up in the corner with straw and a blanket. Despite the freezing temperature he was so much more comfortable here, and he could pray and almost resume some form of the life he had when he had been at the in his former home before Ragnar had found him.
He couldn't ask for any more. He didn't ask for any more. He had his health, he had food, and though he was alone he had God. He just didn't have his scripture, though what he didn't know off by heart was far less than that he did.
The Easter service would be soon,. according to the calendars. And he hadn't been fasting, though he assumed that God would forgive him this, considering the circumstances. He would make up for it. And he would fix up the church.
On Friday morning Athelstan rose and moved through the large open space of the main body of the church, singing softly to himself and gazing with some wonder at the coloured glass windows above him.