Arena: Chapter 11:Initiate
Series/Chapter: Arena - Initiate
Author: muck-a-luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: PG
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own porno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen. *snortle*
Archive rights: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interested, and my journals muck_a_luck and brainofck
Further Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame: uisgich, for encouraging me
Arena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
She had brought the slave sight unseen as a favor to her old friend, Rodin. Now, as her guards brought Sean to her apartments, she was pleased to see that, true to form, Rodin had asked a favor that would benefit her for years. He was an unusual specimen for any house, and his reputation from the arena would bring visitors for weeks just for the novelty of having such an accomplished warrior in their bed. To her experienced eye, it was clear that Sean would have a busy regular clientele almost right away.
But first she had to settle him in. Sean was a mess. His face was bruised and he had a newly bloodied lip. She looked hard at the men holding him.
"You know better than to hit him in the face," she said coldly.
"Mistress, I have never seen a slave fight like this one did. If it weren't for the bindings on his body, I would say you hadn't bought a bed slave at all," the guard replied angrily.
She took a rag from her worktable and walked around the room to them. She knelt so that she could look her newest acquisition in the eye, as she gently dabbed at the cut on Sean's lip. He was angry. Furious. And from his build, still as dangerous as his reputation made him. He was going to be tricky, but she had been in this business a long time.
"Sean," she said quietly, " Rodin sold you to me to punish you. He says you are a traitor, a man without honor, unworthy to hold a sword, or to fight brave honest men. He says you are a whore and should be treated as one and he has sold you to me. I am your mistress now, and this is your home, and you are a whore."
"But you should also know that among whores, I have as good a reputation as a mistress as Sennet has among the arena slaves." She noted the flicker of surprise on his face and smiled. "I make a good life for the slaves who live and work in this house. And I would like to extend that life to you, if you will take it."
She stood and crossed the room to her cabinets. She took down a carved box and brought it back to work table.
"I don't fear the areana," Sean said. "I would rather be sent back there as a murderer, than stay here. You try to turn me into a courtesan, and I'll break the neck of the first man you send to my bed."
She found what she was looking for in the box. A broad, aggressive set of bindings that she had thought she would never use. Copper and gold. Hideous, but somehow suited to him. She brought them out. As she turned back to him, Sean saw what they were and began to struggle again.
"No!" He snarled, twisting and fighting. But the guards had the advantage of leverage, and there was nowhere for Sean to go. With her belt knife, she cut the leather thong around his right upper arm, and replaced it with the first band. Perfect fit. The lock snicked into place with a soft snap. Sean hissed and cursed at her. She cut the thong from his left wrist and replaced it with the bracelet. As she knelt she saw that one of the guards had placed a booted foot firmly over Sean's right ankle. She cut the thong on this thigh and replaced it with the largest band. Not quite as good a fit. She might have to bring in a goldsmith for that. Then anklet on the left ankle. He swore softly.
When she was done she stood before him again. "Sean," she said seriously, "If you killed any of the men who came here, I guarantee you that you wouldn't spend the next two or three years living the hero's life back at the arena. They would make sure your punishment was swift and painful and an example to slaves who think they can kill powerful men with impunity."
Sean shrugged and looked up from below lowered brows with what she could see could easily become an infuriating impudence. "I know what they do with slaves who murder these men," he said quietly. "And it's a better fate than being a bed warmer for them."
She sighed and walked back over to her seat by the window. "Sean," she replied sternly, "you have to understand. No body as beautiful as yours is going to go wasted in a place like this. I can easily see to it that you don't harm anyone. And there are plenty of men who come here who would be delighted to have you bound and helpless and completely against your will. You will be everything a noble, but conquered warrior should be. I might even have suggested it myself, just as a game. But they'll like it better if it's real. Trust me."
She looked at him. Defiant. Angry. Yes, they would make a lot of money, the two of them. She nodded to the guards who lifted him to his feet and led him forcefully away to the chambers she had prepared for him.
Blood Wash
Author: muck-a-luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: PG
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own porno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen. *snortle*
Archive rights: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interested, and my journals muck_a_luck and brainofck
Further Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame: uisgich, for encouraging me
Arena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
She had brought the slave sight unseen as a favor to her old friend, Rodin. Now, as her guards brought Sean to her apartments, she was pleased to see that, true to form, Rodin had asked a favor that would benefit her for years. He was an unusual specimen for any house, and his reputation from the arena would bring visitors for weeks just for the novelty of having such an accomplished warrior in their bed. To her experienced eye, it was clear that Sean would have a busy regular clientele almost right away.
But first she had to settle him in. Sean was a mess. His face was bruised and he had a newly bloodied lip. She looked hard at the men holding him.
"You know better than to hit him in the face," she said coldly.
"Mistress, I have never seen a slave fight like this one did. If it weren't for the bindings on his body, I would say you hadn't bought a bed slave at all," the guard replied angrily.
She took a rag from her worktable and walked around the room to them. She knelt so that she could look her newest acquisition in the eye, as she gently dabbed at the cut on Sean's lip. He was angry. Furious. And from his build, still as dangerous as his reputation made him. He was going to be tricky, but she had been in this business a long time.
"Sean," she said quietly, " Rodin sold you to me to punish you. He says you are a traitor, a man without honor, unworthy to hold a sword, or to fight brave honest men. He says you are a whore and should be treated as one and he has sold you to me. I am your mistress now, and this is your home, and you are a whore."
"But you should also know that among whores, I have as good a reputation as a mistress as Sennet has among the arena slaves." She noted the flicker of surprise on his face and smiled. "I make a good life for the slaves who live and work in this house. And I would like to extend that life to you, if you will take it."
She stood and crossed the room to her cabinets. She took down a carved box and brought it back to work table.
"I don't fear the areana," Sean said. "I would rather be sent back there as a murderer, than stay here. You try to turn me into a courtesan, and I'll break the neck of the first man you send to my bed."
She found what she was looking for in the box. A broad, aggressive set of bindings that she had thought she would never use. Copper and gold. Hideous, but somehow suited to him. She brought them out. As she turned back to him, Sean saw what they were and began to struggle again.
"No!" He snarled, twisting and fighting. But the guards had the advantage of leverage, and there was nowhere for Sean to go. With her belt knife, she cut the leather thong around his right upper arm, and replaced it with the first band. Perfect fit. The lock snicked into place with a soft snap. Sean hissed and cursed at her. She cut the thong from his left wrist and replaced it with the bracelet. As she knelt she saw that one of the guards had placed a booted foot firmly over Sean's right ankle. She cut the thong on this thigh and replaced it with the largest band. Not quite as good a fit. She might have to bring in a goldsmith for that. Then anklet on the left ankle. He swore softly.
When she was done she stood before him again. "Sean," she said seriously, "If you killed any of the men who came here, I guarantee you that you wouldn't spend the next two or three years living the hero's life back at the arena. They would make sure your punishment was swift and painful and an example to slaves who think they can kill powerful men with impunity."
Sean shrugged and looked up from below lowered brows with what she could see could easily become an infuriating impudence. "I know what they do with slaves who murder these men," he said quietly. "And it's a better fate than being a bed warmer for them."
She sighed and walked back over to her seat by the window. "Sean," she replied sternly, "you have to understand. No body as beautiful as yours is going to go wasted in a place like this. I can easily see to it that you don't harm anyone. And there are plenty of men who come here who would be delighted to have you bound and helpless and completely against your will. You will be everything a noble, but conquered warrior should be. I might even have suggested it myself, just as a game. But they'll like it better if it's real. Trust me."
She looked at him. Defiant. Angry. Yes, they would make a lot of money, the two of them. She nodded to the guards who lifted him to his feet and led him forcefully away to the chambers she had prepared for him.
Blood Wash