[The way that Reynir counters his self-criticism isn't the usual way. Instead of gentle coaxing, Reynir just shakes his head and loudly tells him he looked gorgeous and hot. Onni's mouth opens to protest and then he just huffs out a breath and closes it, shaking his head. There's no point in arguing with Reynir when he's like this, he's said it already when it came to the dancing and there's no use in forgetting it now. So he simply shakes his head and goes along as Reynir drags him over to a table with a pitcher of mead and some glasses.
Onni starts pouring it, and raises his brows when Reynir picks a few light blue flowers and starts braiding a bit of hair by Onni's ear. Reynir has had him use the conditioners and shampoos he uses for his own hair enough that the braid stays in place after Reynir's finished with it, and Onni leaves it be as well. Almost everyone here is wearing flowers or has braids or something like that, so he doesn't feel too out of place with it there, even if it isn't his style per se. Onni takes his own cup and sips at it, holding the other out for Reynir to take.
But instead of taking it, Reynir tells him he's got a surprise for him and then picks up a set of pan pipes that's been left beside the pitcher. Tilting his head a little, Onni watches, curious, as Reynir picks them up and starts to play.]
I didn't know you played.
[It's quiet, and he falls quiet as Reynir continues to play for long enough that Onni starts to recognize the tune. It's something that his mother had sung for himself and Tuuri when they were younger, something that he's played on kantele before, while Reynir was around to listen. Onni's face goes soft, his eyes warm while he watches Reynir play, his fingers dancing over the pipes and his mouth pressed against the mouthpiece. The playing isn't perfect, it's obvious that he's still in the process of learning, but the tune is recognizable and Reynir is playing with confidence and emotion. For a moment, Onni feels his throat seize up, the tightness that comes with the onset of tears, but he doesn't cry, just listens and the overwhelming emotion of it - some bittersweet combination of nostalgia and happiness and grief, though the grief is tempered by the comfort of the song, the memory of when he'd heard it.
Swallowing hard, he keeps watching until Reynir is done, and then he looks at the younger man, his gaze intense.]
no subject
Onni starts pouring it, and raises his brows when Reynir picks a few light blue flowers and starts braiding a bit of hair by Onni's ear. Reynir has had him use the conditioners and shampoos he uses for his own hair enough that the braid stays in place after Reynir's finished with it, and Onni leaves it be as well. Almost everyone here is wearing flowers or has braids or something like that, so he doesn't feel too out of place with it there, even if it isn't his style per se. Onni takes his own cup and sips at it, holding the other out for Reynir to take.
But instead of taking it, Reynir tells him he's got a surprise for him and then picks up a set of pan pipes that's been left beside the pitcher. Tilting his head a little, Onni watches, curious, as Reynir picks them up and starts to play.]
I didn't know you played.
[It's quiet, and he falls quiet as Reynir continues to play for long enough that Onni starts to recognize the tune. It's something that his mother had sung for himself and Tuuri when they were younger, something that he's played on kantele before, while Reynir was around to listen. Onni's face goes soft, his eyes warm while he watches Reynir play, his fingers dancing over the pipes and his mouth pressed against the mouthpiece. The playing isn't perfect, it's obvious that he's still in the process of learning, but the tune is recognizable and Reynir is playing with confidence and emotion. For a moment, Onni feels his throat seize up, the tightness that comes with the onset of tears, but he doesn't cry, just listens and the overwhelming emotion of it - some bittersweet combination of nostalgia and happiness and grief, though the grief is tempered by the comfort of the song, the memory of when he'd heard it.
Swallowing hard, he keeps watching until Reynir is done, and then he looks at the younger man, his gaze intense.]
That song. You learned it because of me?