The little AU: Fallow: day four: private
The little AU: Fallow: day four: private
slashfairy
~~
Hunter is full of stories about traveling on the train, about what they've seen, what they did, how you can sleep on a train, too, did you know that, Uncle Viggo? and rambles on until, as children do when they are loved and well-cared-for and feel safe, he drops off in mid-sentence in Viggo's lap.
Karl comes and takes him from Viggo, says "I think we'll each take a nap, eh? See you in a while, love," leans over, kisses the top of Viggo's head where the hair's growing in stiff and wiry and more grey than before, then turns and walks strong and sure-footedly to the bedroom where he lies down next to Hunter and drops right off himself.
Viggo gets up, a bit stiffly- ladders are more treacherous, it seems, when you're nearing 50- but stretches and gets the worst of the kinks out and wanders over to where Orlando's working on a drawing.
It's a drawing of hands playing a piano. That's when Viggo notices that it's his music from Time Waits for Everyone that's playing. The hands aren't his, though, and they're not Orli's. They're just hands, playing, caught mid-chord, the music reverberating through the cabin like angel's wings.
He keeps drawing, doesn't stop anymore when Viggo looks- has lost that shyness, has gained that confidence in his own trying, that trying is legitimate and good and leads to better. After a while Viggo kisses the top of Orli's head and goes to the bookshelf, gets a book of poems down, and returns to his chair to read.
Outside the snow blows in the wind, piling up along the side of the cabin, the sides of the outbuildings, at once shielding and exposing as nature tends to do. Inside the men and the boy live their lives, and the world turns, and the fallow week continues, outside the calendar, private and silent and only theirs.
previously: day three: Breathe
next: day five: rest
slashfairy
~~
Hunter is full of stories about traveling on the train, about what they've seen, what they did, how you can sleep on a train, too, did you know that, Uncle Viggo? and rambles on until, as children do when they are loved and well-cared-for and feel safe, he drops off in mid-sentence in Viggo's lap.
Karl comes and takes him from Viggo, says "I think we'll each take a nap, eh? See you in a while, love," leans over, kisses the top of Viggo's head where the hair's growing in stiff and wiry and more grey than before, then turns and walks strong and sure-footedly to the bedroom where he lies down next to Hunter and drops right off himself.
Viggo gets up, a bit stiffly- ladders are more treacherous, it seems, when you're nearing 50- but stretches and gets the worst of the kinks out and wanders over to where Orlando's working on a drawing.
It's a drawing of hands playing a piano. That's when Viggo notices that it's his music from Time Waits for Everyone that's playing. The hands aren't his, though, and they're not Orli's. They're just hands, playing, caught mid-chord, the music reverberating through the cabin like angel's wings.
He keeps drawing, doesn't stop anymore when Viggo looks- has lost that shyness, has gained that confidence in his own trying, that trying is legitimate and good and leads to better. After a while Viggo kisses the top of Orli's head and goes to the bookshelf, gets a book of poems down, and returns to his chair to read.
Outside the snow blows in the wind, piling up along the side of the cabin, the sides of the outbuildings, at once shielding and exposing as nature tends to do. Inside the men and the boy live their lives, and the world turns, and the fallow week continues, outside the calendar, private and silent and only theirs.
previously: day three: Breathe
next: day five: rest