Einarr stopped, looking down at the struggling priest before agreeing, plopping him unceremoniously onto his bedroll.
“And if you even think about removing that cloak,” The blonde warned, sinking down onto the bedroll “I’ll strangle you with it.”
Red eyes narrowed, glaring at him before closing briefly in defeat, worn fingers tugging the fur up until only the Dunmer’s eyes were visible.
Einarr chuckled lightly.
“What?” came the muffled response, Erandur’s eyes narrowing in suspicion as he looked at the Dragonborn.
“Never would have thought that you’d finally accept it.”
“I’m not ungrateful.”
“Never said you were. You’re just so concerned about me getting cold...it’s funny.”
“It isn’t kind to mock someone’s compassion, Einarr.”
“I’m not mocking you.”
Erandur remained silent at that, lifting his head slightly so that his mouth and nose were free of material. He took a breath before glancing across to the Nord.
“..You’re...”
“I’m...?”
“You...aren’t cold, are you?”
Einarr smiled quietly.
“Why...do you want to share the cloak?”
“I...well...I wouldn’t want you to suffer because of me.”
The blonde shook his head, leaning forwards to stir the stew in the pot.
“I’m fine, ‘Ran. If I get cold, I’ll let you know.”
The priest snorted.
“More likely you’ll just crawl under with me.”
“Aye, it’s possible.” Einarr agreed idly, focusing on the food now instead.
They spent a while in silence, tired by the day’s activities and Erandur was more than grateful when his companion handed him a steaming bowl of stew. He ate slowly, savouring the heat the food created in his belly, before reclining onto his bedroll, too tired to really consider doing anything else but sleep.
He was dozing peacefully, cocooned within the fur, his mind wandering down faint paths of thought when the faintest noise alerted him that something was going on. A soft rustling caught his ear and he lifted his head, blinking wearily, wondering if there was an animal nearby that Einarr had gone to hunt. As it turned out, Einarr was hunting for something, though not extra dinner. Not by the way he had worked his head under the lower edge of the cloak near Erandur’s feet and was now slowly working his way upward.
“...Uhhh...” Erandur managed, still rising through the hazy levels of sleep. This wasn’t the first time he’d caught Einarr in close contact with him while was asleep. Though to be fair, the last time had started with his ears, not his legs.
“Oh.” Came the response, accompanied by a puff of hot breath against the priest’s leg.
“...Anything I can help you with, Einarr?”
“Um...no just...just....um....”
“Do you want your cloak back?”
“No!”
“Do you want to share it?”
There was a pause, and Erandur could imagine the expression on the man’s face as he struggled to answer.
“...Maybe.”
The Dunmer shook his head, shifting so that the cloak loosened about him, allowing the younger man to squirm his way up beside him. Blonde head free of the dark confines of the fur, Einarr’s blue eyes glanced at him sheepishly.
“...Hello....”
“You could have asked, Einarr. I wouldn’t have begrudged you it.” Einarr shrugged, shifting under the thick cloak to press against the priest’s back.
“I thought this was a nicer way to do it.”
Erandur sighed lightly, leaning back against the Dragonborn. In most circumstances having a younger man crawling up his bedroll to snuggle next to him would have disturbed him. But then Einarr made exceptional circumstances. Especially when one considered the whole ear-massaging thing that had occurred on the first day they had met. Since then...most of the Nord’s actions seemed fairly tame.
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timeasmymeasure
Take my coat! 1.2/?
Date: 2013-05-25 11:31 am (UTC)“Einarr! This is inappropriate! Put me down!”
Einarr stopped, looking down at the struggling priest before
agreeing, plopping him unceremoniously onto his bedroll.
“And if you even think about removing that cloak,” The blonde warned, sinking down onto the bedroll “I’ll strangle you with it.”
Red eyes narrowed, glaring at him before closing briefly in defeat, worn fingers tugging the fur up until only the Dunmer’s eyes were visible.
Einarr chuckled lightly.
“What?” came the muffled response, Erandur’s eyes narrowing in suspicion as he looked at the Dragonborn.
“Never would have thought that you’d finally accept it.”
“I’m not ungrateful.”
“Never said you were. You’re just so concerned about me getting cold...it’s funny.”
“It isn’t kind to mock someone’s compassion, Einarr.”
“I’m not mocking you.”
Erandur remained silent at that, lifting his head slightly so that his mouth and nose were free of material. He took a breath before glancing across to the Nord.
“..You’re...”
“I’m...?”
“You...aren’t cold, are you?”
Einarr smiled quietly.
“Why...do you want to share the cloak?”
“I...well...I wouldn’t want you to suffer because of me.”
The blonde shook his head, leaning forwards to stir the stew in the pot.
“I’m fine, ‘Ran. If I get cold, I’ll let you know.”
The priest snorted.
“More likely you’ll just crawl under with me.”
“Aye, it’s possible.” Einarr agreed idly, focusing on the food now instead.
They spent a while in silence, tired by the day’s activities and Erandur was more than grateful when his companion handed him a steaming bowl of stew. He ate slowly, savouring the heat the food created in his belly, before reclining onto his bedroll, too tired to really consider doing anything else but sleep.
He was dozing peacefully, cocooned within the fur, his mind wandering down faint paths of thought when the faintest noise alerted him that something was going on. A soft rustling caught his ear and he lifted his head, blinking wearily, wondering if there was an animal nearby that Einarr had gone to hunt.
As it turned out, Einarr was hunting for something, though not extra dinner. Not by the way he had worked his head under the lower edge of the cloak near Erandur’s feet and was now slowly working his way upward.
“...Uhhh...” Erandur managed, still rising through the hazy levels of sleep. This wasn’t the first time he’d caught Einarr in close contact with him while was asleep. Though to be fair, the last time had started with his ears, not his legs.
“Oh.” Came the response, accompanied by a puff of hot breath against the priest’s leg.
“...Anything I can help you with, Einarr?”
“Um...no just...just....um....”
“Do you want your cloak back?”
“No!”
“Do you want to share it?”
There was a pause, and Erandur could imagine the expression on the man’s face as he struggled to answer.
“...Maybe.”
The Dunmer shook his head, shifting so that the cloak loosened about him, allowing the younger man to squirm his way up beside him. Blonde head free of the dark confines of the fur, Einarr’s blue eyes glanced at him sheepishly.
“...Hello....”
“You could have asked, Einarr. I wouldn’t have begrudged you it.”
Einarr shrugged, shifting under the thick cloak to press against the priest’s back.
“I thought this was a nicer way to do it.”
Erandur sighed lightly, leaning back against the Dragonborn. In most circumstances having a younger man crawling up his bedroll to snuggle next to him would have disturbed him. But then Einarr made exceptional circumstances. Especially when one considered the whole ear-massaging thing that had occurred on the first day they had met. Since then...most of the Nord’s actions seemed fairly tame.