Work Text:
It's the slow days like this that leave him thinking. Wondering. Pondering.
Hes reclined on one of the rowing benches, arms behind his head, just staring at the sky and thinking.
Einarssen.
Who could Egil Einarssen have been? Would he have a wife? Children? Would he have been happy?
The answers always change. And yet, here he is thinking again.
Egil Einarssen. A ropemaker by trade and calling. A silly boy who got caught up and mesmerized by the endless Twist, Over, Twist, Over. Once called a ladies man with how much time he spent around the local women.
Yeah… sure.
A boy who was caught up in the desire to learn what they could teach him, enamored by the Twist, Drop, Pull that was so similar to the rope making done by his father and his family, but such things were supposed to be left unsaid and unnoticed.
A boy who had too many questions. Who asked the wrong things. Who did the wrong things. Who was always wr-
Let's start again.
Egil Einarssen. A ropemaker by trade and calling. A man his father could be proud of, with a pretty wife and a few rowdy kids. A straightforward man who never steps out of line, except, of course, in the ways a man was supposed to. A man who hides how miser-
Let's start again.
Egil Einarssen. A boy who wanted to learn and to know. Someone who knew that answers might not always be where you expect them to be. Or even What you expected them to be. A boy who had only been considered a man for a few years.
A boy who died nearly a decade ago. Someone who couldn't cut it. Someone who wasn't wor-
He feels a tap at his shoulder and opens his eyes. He looks up to see Finnr who says,
"You can't be dreaming all day little giant, we have places to be"
He stands to follow Finnr as he turns away. With a small laugh he thinks about the boy who died ten years ago.
Egil Einarssen may not have survived, but Egil Þurs Thrived.
And Egil Þurs had somewhere to be.