Wherever you go, I will follow

2

So when the bus arrives at the town center, Ragnar jumps off rather victoriously.

He greets the first person he sees and politely asks if she, by any chance, knows where a certain Athelstan lives. The old lady laughs. "Dear, we're about a hundred people here, we all know each other," and continues with a vague description of how to get there, punctuated with the frequent use of the phrases "you'll see" and "can't miss."

He grins at the old lady as a thank you.

On his way, he passes some more elders who stare at him from windows and the sides of the road. Sure, he has an unusual look, kind of odd, kind of different, might be offensive even to a specific crowd. It isn't like this at home where his friends and family have the same mentality and similar exterior, and he likes being unique abroad, but he's never gotten this much attention anywhere before. He's not sure whether he likes it. He's sure though that he doesn't really care.

He stops in front of a house that very much resembles the one the old lady described. Well, she didn't give many clues, but this house does have, he thinks, "a nice feel to it," a blue door, and "oh, that wonderful garden ‒ even I can't make mine that lovely."

He briefly weighs his options: writing a message to the guy with the information that he's standing right outside his blue door or simply knocking. Of course he decides on the second one.

When the door opens, he gets to lay eyes on the most beautiful man he's seen so far. (And yes, he knows Floki would be offended, but even with his jealousy in mind, he can't deny it.)

"Wow," Ragnar says unapologetically. "You shouldn't be hiding that face from the world."

The man is staring into his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Du er Ragnar," he mumbles with a slightly noticeable accent.

Said man's lips grow into a smile, feeling more and more intrigued. "Og du er Athelstan."

"How did you even‒ I mean I didn't‒"

Ragnar impatiently marches through the doorway, which might be impolite, but yet again, he doesn't really care about these little meaningless things like manners and etcetera. While kicking off his boots and making his way forward, he explains: "I got here and I asked the first person. Wasn't hard. By the way, it was this old lady, she said you have a lovely garden."

"Oh, that must be Rose, dear soul," the man says as he follows Ragnar to the humble living room, "I see I'll need to talk to her again about referring strangers to me..."

Ragnar throws himself down into the couch. "So you get this a lot?"

Athelstan shrugs and sits in the armchair across from him. "Well, not a lot. People are usually hesitant to come to a strange island‒"

"I can imagine you've got some followers with blind faith who are very keen on getting to know you."

Athelstan looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Ragnar laughs in response.

"No, see, it's different, I'm here for business. My followers asked, I'm obeying."

The man smiles sheepishly, and asks: "Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," Ragnar nods.

While Athelstan is occupied in the kitchen, he raids and explores the room, examining a few items, however he arrives at the conclusion that the guy doesn't have many personal belongings. Or at least not in his living room.

As he hears Athelstan approaching, he shouts the question his brain formed. "How come you speak Norwegian?"

The man sets down a tray on the table, and after pouring tea in the two cups, he answers shyly. "I picked up a few words when I was travelling, nothing much."