(no subject)
My men. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ketto shifted in his sleep, his brows knitted together and even a hint of sweat rolled down his temple. He whimpered then gasped, his eyes flying open. He lay there for a minute in the silence of the night, staring up at the full moon hanging heavy in the sky with a ring of red circling its whiteness. He shifted on his bedding and managed to free his legs from Mysty’s claim.
He looked to the fire and watched the crackling flames lick up into the darkness, creating a halo of safety.
But it was all an illusion.
Unexpected pain shot through Ketto’s left arm and he screamed, shattering the dark, peaceful night with one exhale of breath.
Thrast was on his knees, sword in hand as he looked to Ketto then wildly around the area. Mysty was on her feet and hissing, running around the camp in a circuit to make sure the perimeter was clear.
Ketto gasped and grasped his arm, holding it tightly to his chest as he screamed again, shaking all over.
“Ketto? Ketto! What happened?” Thrast asked, his sword once again lay by the bed as he reached out for Ketto’s arm, trying to pry his fingers away.
Blood covered his chest and arm. It coated everything and soon the red liquid stained Thrast’s fingers and shirt. He managed to pull the sobbing and screaming man’s fingers from his arm and he pulled his sleeve down, exposing an angry wound in the middle of his arm on either side as though the wound went through his arm.
Ketto shook his head and cried, his free hand shaking, hovering over his wounded arm as though desperate to get it back from Thrast so he could hug it to his body.
“Ketto, calm down,” Thrast ordered; his quietly smooth, deep voice, demanded he be listened too. The soft, gentleness soothed the young man’s senses, telling him he would be all right and slowly, it spread through Ketto’s senses and he nodded slightly.
Hiccupping a few times, Ketto grasped onto Thrast’s arm and breathed hard, tears sliding down his cheeks and his face flushed from pain. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t do anything, believe me!” His face contorted threatening to once again scream and sob.
Thrast leaned forward and took Ketto’s face in his hands, moving his face close to his so all he could see and focus one was him, “I believe you, calm down and let me look at it, all right?” He whispered, smoothing back some of the blonde hair and staining it with blood.
Ketto nodded quickly though the tears did spring free, he bit his lower lip in a wild attempt to breathe and stay calm.
Thrast lifted one of their canteens and quickly poured water over the wound, clearing away the blood and revealing the wound underneath. He examined it before more blood flowed from it and then he cleared it away with another rush of water. “It looks like it is only a minor wound like you were cut. It didn’t go all the way through -though it certainly looks as tough it should have.”
He rummaged through his bag and pulled free some bandages and began wrapping the wound securely.
Ketto gasped and struggled to stay still. He watched Thrast’s fingers work carefully as he wrapped his arm. His entire body shook uncontrollably as he finally raised his eyes. “What happened?” His voice quivered, his eyes begging for an answer.
Thrast shook his head, dark green eyes studying his scared face. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could have answered that.”
Shaking his head a few times, Ketto stared up at Thrast, still gripping his arm tightly, “I don’t know. I-I had a dr-dream, and I woke up, then… then my arm it…” he trailed off and gasped. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself. He succeeded and inhaled slowly before continuing, “The pain just happened. It felt like my arm had been stabbed with a knife.”
Thrast listened quietly and nodded once, gently laying Ketto’s arm back against his chest. He lifted a hand and moved it towards his face to push back some of his unruly hair then stopped; his hand hovering above his head. He lowered his eyes and his hand dropped to his knee.
“I do not know what to tell you.” Thrast whispered. “I have never heard of a dream causing an injury, let alone pain, that real.”
Ketto sniffled and weakly lifted his free hand, rubbing the tears from his cheeks and smearing a bit of blood across it as well. “I think I heard somewhere, or read somewhere that if you believe a dream enough, it could kill you. Or maybe it was, if you die in your dream you die in reality as well.”
He listened quietly, even as he reached over to their packs and rummaged through his bag, pulling free a spare shirt he had. “I’m glad you didn’t die.” Thrast whispered, before he moved closer to Ketto, “Here, put this on. At least it’s clean.” He laid the shirt down next to him and he then turned his back to him, looking out into the darkness before him.
Carefully sitting up, Ketto looked down at his own bloodied shirt and carefully began to undo the buttons -his left hand shaking and fumbling with his movements. It was slow and tedious work, and the blonde nearly broke down and asked Thrast just to undo the buttons; but he squared his jaw and struggled through getting the button’s through the holes with one hand.
Once his shirt was undone he slipped his right arm out, then very gently removed his left arm. Ketto lifted up Thrast’s shirt and couldn’t help but raise his brows at how large the shirt was compared to his own. He wrinkled his nose and frowned -yet again being reminded how small he was. But he sighed in defeat and struggled into the shirt -not bothering to undo the buttons. Once it was on, Ketto couldn’t help but smile faintly -it wasn’t as large as he had first thought, it was roomy, yes, but it wasn’t a tent surrounding him; it was just long in the torso.
He sat quietly on his bedroll and shivered.
Thrast peeked over his shoulder before he stood and made his way to the fire, restocking it and nudging a few logs against the coals writhing with heat.
“You can sleep in my bed. You need to get your rest.”
Ketto tilted his head in confusion then looked down at his blanket -it was covered in blood as his shirt had been. “I-I can’t. I don’t think I can sleep.”
“You need too.” Thrast whispered, turning his green eyes to stare into the scared blue.
Looking into those gentle, worried eyes, Ketto nodded slightly then bit his lip. “W-where are you going to sleep?”
“I’ll sleep sitting up.”
“What if you fall over?”
“I usually wake up before that happens.”
“But what if you fall asleep and fall into the fire?”
Thrast stared at Ketto for a moment, a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. “I won’t fall in the fire.”
“You can’t say that, you might.”
Thrast was silent for a time. He studied Ketto before he walked over to him,
kneeling down on his bedroll. “Do you want me to sleep next to you?”
Ketto blushed and looked away, his cheeks puffing out for a split second as though he just stopped himself from shouting. He continued his silence even as he nodded and his face reached a new level of red.
With a nod, Thrast motioned for him to switch bedrolls. He moved with him and helped him get settled in. He reached over and draped the clean half of his blanket over Ketto’s shoulders to help keep him warm before he settled down with him -sleeping on his right shoulder as he faced Ketto.
The blonde blushed again as he watched Thrast settle in next to him and tried to avoid eye contact as soon as their eyes met.
“This is a little weird.” Ketto whispered.
Thrast just watched him, waiting for him to announce his next thoughts.
With a little shift to keep his injured arm from being jarred, Ketto suddenly leaned into Thrast and wrapped his right arm about him, trying not to cry but not succeeding. “Why do these things happen to me? Why do I get hurt, and picked on, and why do I go hungry when I try to be good and help people an-and th-that man-” he bit his lip, hiding against Thrast.
Thrast hesitated, looking down at his chest where Ketto hid his face. He peeked
up, staring past the fire where Mysty sat next to Dakota -the mare just as worried as the big cat.
Mysty tilted her head and blinked her fire illuminated green eyes. She purred loudly suddenly and seemed to nod in encouragement.
Looking back down, Thrast carefully slipped his left arm about Ketto’s shoulders and stopped when Ketto jerked from the touch -but he did not pull away or flee, he
simply cried silent tears that soaked into the black shirt his companion wore.
Settling his arm fully about Ketto, Thrast shifted and wrapped his other arm about the smaller young man, “It seems to always happen to the few good people in this world. It’s as though the gods and goddesses are testing you to see if you will give up and no longer fight the darkness this world circulates. Please fight.”
“But it’s so hard! Why fight when I’ll never win?” Ketto hiccupped.
“Because, it’s our lost battles that we gain the most from.”
Ketto nuzzled his shoulder, sniffling softly, “Maybe…” he whispered, holding tightly to the other man.
Thrast smoothed back his hair finally, looking down at Ketto’s partially visible face. “Are you all right now?”
“I think so.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“You’ll stay right here; right?”
“I wouldn’t dare leave.” Thrast whispered, and that caused a small smile to crawl up Ketto’s face.
The two settled to sleep, their eyes slipping shut even though Thrast waited till he was certain Ketto was asleep before he dared to close his eyes to try and rest. His fingers ran along Ketto’s back and over his shoulders; quietly wishing him happy dreams this time.
Though the idea of Ketto dieing from a bad dream did frighten him -especially if that wound on his arm was any indication of what those dreams were capable of.
Mysty purred loudly and settled up against his side, laying her head on his chest next to the blonde mess of hair already laying there. Mysty studied Ketto then looked to Thrast.
Thrast opened his eyes and peeked down at his familiar, “He’s all right now. He was hurt but he seems better.” He whispered.
Mysty rumbled in her chest as she settled against him and her ears flicked about.
“I am comfortable.” He answered her then looked down at her sharply. “You’re the one who told me to hold him.”
With a smile that only cats are capable of achieving, Mysty purred loudly and curled against him, looking rather proud of herself.
Thrast shook his head once as he closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to relax on his back with Ketto against him on one side, and Mysty on the other.
~~~~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed it ^_^ this was one of those late night writes that i wrote and then the next morning re-read and went "huh? where did that come from? I love it!" sort of things. (love it when that happens!) and i also thought of the most AWESOME idea for these two. they'll both get into MAJOR trouble with the bad guy... i can't wait! *giggles* so yeah.... be gentle with my men here.
~Mel
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ketto shifted in his sleep, his brows knitted together and even a hint of sweat rolled down his temple. He whimpered then gasped, his eyes flying open. He lay there for a minute in the silence of the night, staring up at the full moon hanging heavy in the sky with a ring of red circling its whiteness. He shifted on his bedding and managed to free his legs from Mysty’s claim.
He looked to the fire and watched the crackling flames lick up into the darkness, creating a halo of safety.
But it was all an illusion.
Unexpected pain shot through Ketto’s left arm and he screamed, shattering the dark, peaceful night with one exhale of breath.
Thrast was on his knees, sword in hand as he looked to Ketto then wildly around the area. Mysty was on her feet and hissing, running around the camp in a circuit to make sure the perimeter was clear.
Ketto gasped and grasped his arm, holding it tightly to his chest as he screamed again, shaking all over.
“Ketto? Ketto! What happened?” Thrast asked, his sword once again lay by the bed as he reached out for Ketto’s arm, trying to pry his fingers away.
Blood covered his chest and arm. It coated everything and soon the red liquid stained Thrast’s fingers and shirt. He managed to pull the sobbing and screaming man’s fingers from his arm and he pulled his sleeve down, exposing an angry wound in the middle of his arm on either side as though the wound went through his arm.
Ketto shook his head and cried, his free hand shaking, hovering over his wounded arm as though desperate to get it back from Thrast so he could hug it to his body.
“Ketto, calm down,” Thrast ordered; his quietly smooth, deep voice, demanded he be listened too. The soft, gentleness soothed the young man’s senses, telling him he would be all right and slowly, it spread through Ketto’s senses and he nodded slightly.
Hiccupping a few times, Ketto grasped onto Thrast’s arm and breathed hard, tears sliding down his cheeks and his face flushed from pain. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t do anything, believe me!” His face contorted threatening to once again scream and sob.
Thrast leaned forward and took Ketto’s face in his hands, moving his face close to his so all he could see and focus one was him, “I believe you, calm down and let me look at it, all right?” He whispered, smoothing back some of the blonde hair and staining it with blood.
Ketto nodded quickly though the tears did spring free, he bit his lower lip in a wild attempt to breathe and stay calm.
Thrast lifted one of their canteens and quickly poured water over the wound, clearing away the blood and revealing the wound underneath. He examined it before more blood flowed from it and then he cleared it away with another rush of water. “It looks like it is only a minor wound like you were cut. It didn’t go all the way through -though it certainly looks as tough it should have.”
He rummaged through his bag and pulled free some bandages and began wrapping the wound securely.
Ketto gasped and struggled to stay still. He watched Thrast’s fingers work carefully as he wrapped his arm. His entire body shook uncontrollably as he finally raised his eyes. “What happened?” His voice quivered, his eyes begging for an answer.
Thrast shook his head, dark green eyes studying his scared face. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could have answered that.”
Shaking his head a few times, Ketto stared up at Thrast, still gripping his arm tightly, “I don’t know. I-I had a dr-dream, and I woke up, then… then my arm it…” he trailed off and gasped. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself. He succeeded and inhaled slowly before continuing, “The pain just happened. It felt like my arm had been stabbed with a knife.”
Thrast listened quietly and nodded once, gently laying Ketto’s arm back against his chest. He lifted a hand and moved it towards his face to push back some of his unruly hair then stopped; his hand hovering above his head. He lowered his eyes and his hand dropped to his knee.
“I do not know what to tell you.” Thrast whispered. “I have never heard of a dream causing an injury, let alone pain, that real.”
Ketto sniffled and weakly lifted his free hand, rubbing the tears from his cheeks and smearing a bit of blood across it as well. “I think I heard somewhere, or read somewhere that if you believe a dream enough, it could kill you. Or maybe it was, if you die in your dream you die in reality as well.”
He listened quietly, even as he reached over to their packs and rummaged through his bag, pulling free a spare shirt he had. “I’m glad you didn’t die.” Thrast whispered, before he moved closer to Ketto, “Here, put this on. At least it’s clean.” He laid the shirt down next to him and he then turned his back to him, looking out into the darkness before him.
Carefully sitting up, Ketto looked down at his own bloodied shirt and carefully began to undo the buttons -his left hand shaking and fumbling with his movements. It was slow and tedious work, and the blonde nearly broke down and asked Thrast just to undo the buttons; but he squared his jaw and struggled through getting the button’s through the holes with one hand.
Once his shirt was undone he slipped his right arm out, then very gently removed his left arm. Ketto lifted up Thrast’s shirt and couldn’t help but raise his brows at how large the shirt was compared to his own. He wrinkled his nose and frowned -yet again being reminded how small he was. But he sighed in defeat and struggled into the shirt -not bothering to undo the buttons. Once it was on, Ketto couldn’t help but smile faintly -it wasn’t as large as he had first thought, it was roomy, yes, but it wasn’t a tent surrounding him; it was just long in the torso.
He sat quietly on his bedroll and shivered.
Thrast peeked over his shoulder before he stood and made his way to the fire, restocking it and nudging a few logs against the coals writhing with heat.
“You can sleep in my bed. You need to get your rest.”
Ketto tilted his head in confusion then looked down at his blanket -it was covered in blood as his shirt had been. “I-I can’t. I don’t think I can sleep.”
“You need too.” Thrast whispered, turning his green eyes to stare into the scared blue.
Looking into those gentle, worried eyes, Ketto nodded slightly then bit his lip. “W-where are you going to sleep?”
“I’ll sleep sitting up.”
“What if you fall over?”
“I usually wake up before that happens.”
“But what if you fall asleep and fall into the fire?”
Thrast stared at Ketto for a moment, a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. “I won’t fall in the fire.”
“You can’t say that, you might.”
Thrast was silent for a time. He studied Ketto before he walked over to him,
kneeling down on his bedroll. “Do you want me to sleep next to you?”
Ketto blushed and looked away, his cheeks puffing out for a split second as though he just stopped himself from shouting. He continued his silence even as he nodded and his face reached a new level of red.
With a nod, Thrast motioned for him to switch bedrolls. He moved with him and helped him get settled in. He reached over and draped the clean half of his blanket over Ketto’s shoulders to help keep him warm before he settled down with him -sleeping on his right shoulder as he faced Ketto.
The blonde blushed again as he watched Thrast settle in next to him and tried to avoid eye contact as soon as their eyes met.
“This is a little weird.” Ketto whispered.
Thrast just watched him, waiting for him to announce his next thoughts.
With a little shift to keep his injured arm from being jarred, Ketto suddenly leaned into Thrast and wrapped his right arm about him, trying not to cry but not succeeding. “Why do these things happen to me? Why do I get hurt, and picked on, and why do I go hungry when I try to be good and help people an-and th-that man-” he bit his lip, hiding against Thrast.
Thrast hesitated, looking down at his chest where Ketto hid his face. He peeked
up, staring past the fire where Mysty sat next to Dakota -the mare just as worried as the big cat.
Mysty tilted her head and blinked her fire illuminated green eyes. She purred loudly suddenly and seemed to nod in encouragement.
Looking back down, Thrast carefully slipped his left arm about Ketto’s shoulders and stopped when Ketto jerked from the touch -but he did not pull away or flee, he
simply cried silent tears that soaked into the black shirt his companion wore.
Settling his arm fully about Ketto, Thrast shifted and wrapped his other arm about the smaller young man, “It seems to always happen to the few good people in this world. It’s as though the gods and goddesses are testing you to see if you will give up and no longer fight the darkness this world circulates. Please fight.”
“But it’s so hard! Why fight when I’ll never win?” Ketto hiccupped.
“Because, it’s our lost battles that we gain the most from.”
Ketto nuzzled his shoulder, sniffling softly, “Maybe…” he whispered, holding tightly to the other man.
Thrast smoothed back his hair finally, looking down at Ketto’s partially visible face. “Are you all right now?”
“I think so.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“You’ll stay right here; right?”
“I wouldn’t dare leave.” Thrast whispered, and that caused a small smile to crawl up Ketto’s face.
The two settled to sleep, their eyes slipping shut even though Thrast waited till he was certain Ketto was asleep before he dared to close his eyes to try and rest. His fingers ran along Ketto’s back and over his shoulders; quietly wishing him happy dreams this time.
Though the idea of Ketto dieing from a bad dream did frighten him -especially if that wound on his arm was any indication of what those dreams were capable of.
Mysty purred loudly and settled up against his side, laying her head on his chest next to the blonde mess of hair already laying there. Mysty studied Ketto then looked to Thrast.
Thrast opened his eyes and peeked down at his familiar, “He’s all right now. He was hurt but he seems better.” He whispered.
Mysty rumbled in her chest as she settled against him and her ears flicked about.
“I am comfortable.” He answered her then looked down at her sharply. “You’re the one who told me to hold him.”
With a smile that only cats are capable of achieving, Mysty purred loudly and curled against him, looking rather proud of herself.
Thrast shook his head once as he closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to relax on his back with Ketto against him on one side, and Mysty on the other.
~~~~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed it ^_^ this was one of those late night writes that i wrote and then the next morning re-read and went "huh? where did that come from? I love it!" sort of things. (love it when that happens!) and i also thought of the most AWESOME idea for these two. they'll both get into MAJOR trouble with the bad guy... i can't wait! *giggles* so yeah.... be gentle with my men here.
~Mel