[At that reassurance, that he'll try not to cross any lines because Onni won't be able to shut him out, Onni makes a soft 'hm' in his throat, and glances down at his bowl of food. He's not feeling particularly hungry, but he hasn't for a few days now, so he just pushes the bowl away from him and leans an elbow on the table, rests his chin in the palm of it, looking over at Reynir. The younger man seems to have lost his appetite as well, though Onni isn't sure what the reason might be, since he also looks quite pleased.
It is a relief that Reynir looks so pleased. He hadn't really thought about how short-notice it was, with this space opening up the same day, until Reynir had seemed surprised. Abruptly, Reynir is reminding him that he has to think of some sort of vow for the ritual ceremony, and he's not sure what to say - suddenly the time seems very short for him as well, and now his appetite is well and truly gone.]
I haven't written anything. But I will before it happens, I promise.
[When he says that, he meets Reynir's eyes pointedly, trying to make it clear that when he promises this, he's intending to follow through. Onni might not understand all the reasons why, but he can tell that it's important to Reynir, that not following through or saying something appropriate and genuine would hurt the Icelander. He has no intention of starting out a bond that way, on a note of hurt, because it would be a very bad omen for the rest of the time they're bonded.
Once they get the food cleared, Onni goes back up to his room to settle on his bed and think about what he intends to say. Lying on his back, he looks up at the ceiling and spends some actual time thinking about Reynir as a person. Thinking about the interactions they've had and the consideration Reynir has shown him, about Reynir's stubbornness and energy and how those things infuriate him but how they also push him to do things he wouldn't otherwise. Halfway through the afternoon, he re-reads the conversation they'd had about frivolous things and relationships and all of that, tries to understand it and yet again comes up with confusion. Reynir is strange and foreign and perplexing and overwhelming and very...bright, warm.
After a while, he falls asleep, curled up on his side on the bed, his back to the wall, and wakes up a few hours later, groggy and in need of water. Drinking some from the tap in the bathroom makes him more alert, and he realizes that the time is getting close, so he cleans himself up - he showers and washes his hair and tries to get it in some semblance of order afterward. He goes through his clothing until he finds something that looks decently presentable - a tunic and leather leggings, his boots, his fur cloak, but leaving the gloves behind.
After he's satisfied with his appearance, he leaves the house to wander the market a little, wanting to get a small gift for Reynir, because somehow it seems right to do so...it's difficult to decide what, because flowers seem wrong and he doesn't think Reynir likes sweets as much as he does. Eventually he settles on a tiny wooden carving of a dog that reminds him of both the Icelander's fylgja and the one he'd had to part with in order to get into the Silent World back in Finland. Wondering if Reynir had seen that to know the similarity, he tucks it into a pocket to be given after the ceremony.
Onni still hasn't written anything, but he thinks he knows the soul of what he intends to say, and that is all he's ever needed.
Reynir meets him by the doorway as he comes back inside, calling that he'll be out in a few moments.]
Ah, good. We're still walking together, then?
[Onni takes a few steps inside, craning his neck to look toward Reynir's room.]
no subject
It is a relief that Reynir looks so pleased. He hadn't really thought about how short-notice it was, with this space opening up the same day, until Reynir had seemed surprised. Abruptly, Reynir is reminding him that he has to think of some sort of vow for the ritual ceremony, and he's not sure what to say - suddenly the time seems very short for him as well, and now his appetite is well and truly gone.]
I haven't written anything. But I will before it happens, I promise.
[When he says that, he meets Reynir's eyes pointedly, trying to make it clear that when he promises this, he's intending to follow through. Onni might not understand all the reasons why, but he can tell that it's important to Reynir, that not following through or saying something appropriate and genuine would hurt the Icelander. He has no intention of starting out a bond that way, on a note of hurt, because it would be a very bad omen for the rest of the time they're bonded.
Once they get the food cleared, Onni goes back up to his room to settle on his bed and think about what he intends to say. Lying on his back, he looks up at the ceiling and spends some actual time thinking about Reynir as a person. Thinking about the interactions they've had and the consideration Reynir has shown him, about Reynir's stubbornness and energy and how those things infuriate him but how they also push him to do things he wouldn't otherwise. Halfway through the afternoon, he re-reads the conversation they'd had about frivolous things and relationships and all of that, tries to understand it and yet again comes up with confusion. Reynir is strange and foreign and perplexing and overwhelming and very...bright, warm.
After a while, he falls asleep, curled up on his side on the bed, his back to the wall, and wakes up a few hours later, groggy and in need of water. Drinking some from the tap in the bathroom makes him more alert, and he realizes that the time is getting close, so he cleans himself up - he showers and washes his hair and tries to get it in some semblance of order afterward. He goes through his clothing until he finds something that looks decently presentable - a tunic and leather leggings, his boots, his fur cloak, but leaving the gloves behind.
After he's satisfied with his appearance, he leaves the house to wander the market a little, wanting to get a small gift for Reynir, because somehow it seems right to do so...it's difficult to decide what, because flowers seem wrong and he doesn't think Reynir likes sweets as much as he does. Eventually he settles on a tiny wooden carving of a dog that reminds him of both the Icelander's fylgja and the one he'd had to part with in order to get into the Silent World back in Finland. Wondering if Reynir had seen that to know the similarity, he tucks it into a pocket to be given after the ceremony.
Onni still hasn't written anything, but he thinks he knows the soul of what he intends to say, and that is all he's ever needed.
Reynir meets him by the doorway as he comes back inside, calling that he'll be out in a few moments.]
Ah, good. We're still walking together, then?
[Onni takes a few steps inside, craning his neck to look toward Reynir's room.]
What are you doing?