Work Text:
The bells are tolling.
It's Sunday, so of course they are, summoning everyone to the church.
Siegfried does not attend. What silent approbation he is subject to doesn't bother him. Perhaps it is uncharitable of him to think so little of religion, but he has seen enough evil, now, that it is difficult to believe that humans are deserving of all that much salvation.
With service ended, the parishioners are streaming away from the church as Siegfried plods up the lane towards it. The bells were not commonly rung after services before the war, but they are these days, here in the village. Mourning peals; mourning tolls for wartime tolls. That's what Peter tells him, and Peter ought to know.
The ringing comes to a stop as Siegfried gets to the doors. He waits for the the bellringers to shuffle out, then braces himself for the journey up the narrow spiral stairs to the ringing chamber.
'I wish you wouldn't come up here on that bad leg,' Peter chastises him when Siegfried makes it up there.
The leg does hurt like hell, but Siegfried leans against the cool stone walls and shrugs. He's used to hiding pain. 'If I didn't do this I'd never get it exercised.'
Peter, tending to the bells, shakes his head. 'If you must.' He doesn't crowd Siegfried, which is a great kindness. 'Come sit down now that you've made it, at least.' He taps his foot against a stool set against one of the chamber's narrow windows.
Siegfried hobbles over and sits. He gazes out at the slice of the Yorkshire countryside that the window neatly frames: green, beautiful, and somehow incapable of touching his heart the way it once invariably did.
Eventually, Peter comes and sets both of his hands on Siegfried's shoulders. He squeezes down, and Siegfried feels warmth trickle down from the too-tense muscles all the way down his chest. It pools in his stomach.
They stay there watching the world go by down below, blanketed by the ghostly reverberation of the now-silent bells. When Peter curls one arm across Siegfried's chest, Siegfried manages to lift his hand to clasp Peter's wrist and hold on.