Fic: Roses and their thorns (2/4)
Title: Roses and their thorns
Author: Liv
Pairing: VM/OB, OB/SB (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, angst, evil Sean
Summary: While visiting an old friend, Viggo meets a young man who needs a knight in shining armour..
Feedback: would be most welcome, no flames please.
Beta-ed by Myr (thank you, dear!). All remaining mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: This is just a product of my imagination.
Note: The story is set sometime in the 1800’.
Chapter 2
Before Viggo managed to react though, Orlando was gone and his hurried footsteps had faded in the distance. Viggo hurriedly put some semblance of order into his appearance and donned more appropriate clothes to go in search of his host, whom he joined in the conservatory.
“Good morning, Viggo I trust you’ve had a restful night,” Sean winked conspiratorially at Viggo
“Most restful,” Viggo answered with an impassive face. “May I have a word with you, in private?” he added.
Sean sobered at his friend’s tone. They made their way through the open garden doors and into the morning sunshine.
“Is something wrong, Viggo? Was last night’s entertainment lacking? If so, I will have a word with the boy.”
“Sean, I think you purposefully misunderstood what I wanted last night,” Viggo began.
“Oh, how so? I saw you eyeing the boy and I thought it obvious that you wanted to bed him,” Sean said.
“You lead me to believe that was his sole function here. Instead, I learn, when it is too late, that he is, in fact your gardener.”
“He is my gardener because he is good at it, because I needed a gardener and because it pleased me to hire him as such. As for his alternate occupation, I’d rather not make it public knowledge, but that actually pleases me more and it is what pays off the considerate debt that his family owes me. I could have had their house sold and have thrown them into the street, but then I met Orlando and another solution presented itself. The boy is understandably quite grateful,” Sean told a frowning Viggo
“And I suppose he has to show his gratitude to any guest of your choice. That is just short of slavery. And you have even branded him, as if he were cattle,” Viggo accused.
“Viggo, he is my servant and therefore, it is his job to serve me and my guests in any way I see fit. If he refuses, well, then he knows the way to the door and the consequences of such a decision. Somehow, I do not think he would risk seeing his family homeless.”
“So, you send him to my bed unwilling?”
“Come now, Viggo, I’ve known you since you were wearing short trousers and rolling in the mud. You couldn’t hurt anyone if you tried. I’m sure you’ve made it a memorable night for him. Now, let’s not talk about this anymore, the count and countess look bored, and that is never a good thing.”
Viggo followed his host, seething inside, but unwilling to make a scene in front of the other guests, especially not over his dalliances with another man. As the day dragged by, Viggo tried to catch a glimpse of Orlando, but the boy was never in sight and Viggo spent the day smelling roses everywhere he turned. He avoided Sean until evening and spent his time wandering across the well-tended grounds of the estate.
Viggo caught himself wondering whether or not Orlando had worked in one corner or another of the garden, if he had smelled this or that flower and if he’d ever bathed in the small pond hidden behind a grove of trees.
The moon was high by the time Viggo returned to the mansion and he debated whether he should have dinner with the other guests. He smiled slightly to himself when the scent of roses assaulted him again. The boy had certainly gotten under his skin. Just then, the door to Sean’s study opened and Sean himself stepped out, straightening his collar.
Concealing himself behind a pillar, Viggo was unwilling to start a possibly unpleasant conversation with his host and long time friend. He frowned slightly when he heard Sean speak through the closing door into the room beyond: “Clean yourself up and I do not want any of the servants to find you here looking so disheveled.”
Sean closed the door and headed towards the dining room. Viggo heard laughter through the ornate doors and light streamed out, then Sean disappeared inside and the doors closed.
Curious but wary, Viggo tiptoed to the closed study door. He pressed the doorjamb slowly and pushed the door slightly ajar, peaking inside. What he saw was unexpected and Viggo felt his stomach knot.
Viggo found Orlando kneeling on the plush carpet by Sean’s desk, his clothes in disarray, if not altogether missing. Something invisible to Viggo’s eyes seemed to have caught Orlandos attention as he was staring dazedly at an empty wall, hand gripping blindly at the clawed legs of the ornate desk. Viggo walked in slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, but the motion seemed to go unnoticed.
Viggo kneeled by the boy’s side and gently set a hand on his shoulder. Sitting on what apparently was a small pile of his own clothes, Orlando only wore a loose unbuttoned shirt. “Are you alright?” Viggo asked, feeling foolish even as he asked the question.
“The painting… they moved the painting,” he said softly, continuing to stare at the empty wall.
“What painting, Orlando?” Viggo asked confused.
Orlando shuddered slightly and Viggo took off his coat to cover the boy.
“I would always look at the painting when…when he takes me on the desk, but… now it’s gone,” Orlando murmured, as the shudders increased. “He said he wants to hang a mirror instead”.
Viggo bit back a harsh retort addressed to his “friend”, not wanting to upset Orlando further. “Come, let’s get you up and to your room so you can rest,” he said instead. He supported the unsteady young man to the second door of the study and peaked out to make sure no one was passing through the corridor. He then guided the half naked boy to the servants’ quarters, asking a pliable Orlando for directions to his small room.
Depositing Orlando on his bed, Viggo looked around in search of anything the boy could use to clean himself, without having to go to the shared bathing area that the servants used. He espied a large carafe of water and fresh linen and retrieved them, placing them within Orlando’s reach. Viggo then shyly petted Orlando’s cheek: “I’m going to leave you alone now, will you be alright?”
Unconsciously, Orlando leaned into the caress, making Viggo’s skin prickle: “This is the second time today that I find myself in a position to thank you.” Orlando raised practiced sultry eyes and his hand slid up Viggo’s leg, “I should thank you properly,” he added.
Viggo gently stayed his hand: “I do not want anything,” he said.
“Everyone wants something,” Orlando mused, but he let Viggo hold his hand, drawing warmth from this man who confused him so much.
Viggo bent and placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead, and then he left the room, feeling that Orlando’s words had somehow rung true, even as far as he was concerned.
TBC.
Author: Liv
Pairing: VM/OB, OB/SB (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, angst, evil Sean
Summary: While visiting an old friend, Viggo meets a young man who needs a knight in shining armour..
Feedback: would be most welcome, no flames please.
Beta-ed by Myr (thank you, dear!). All remaining mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: This is just a product of my imagination.
Note: The story is set sometime in the 1800’.
Chapter 2
Before Viggo managed to react though, Orlando was gone and his hurried footsteps had faded in the distance. Viggo hurriedly put some semblance of order into his appearance and donned more appropriate clothes to go in search of his host, whom he joined in the conservatory.
“Good morning, Viggo I trust you’ve had a restful night,” Sean winked conspiratorially at Viggo
“Most restful,” Viggo answered with an impassive face. “May I have a word with you, in private?” he added.
Sean sobered at his friend’s tone. They made their way through the open garden doors and into the morning sunshine.
“Is something wrong, Viggo? Was last night’s entertainment lacking? If so, I will have a word with the boy.”
“Sean, I think you purposefully misunderstood what I wanted last night,” Viggo began.
“Oh, how so? I saw you eyeing the boy and I thought it obvious that you wanted to bed him,” Sean said.
“You lead me to believe that was his sole function here. Instead, I learn, when it is too late, that he is, in fact your gardener.”
“He is my gardener because he is good at it, because I needed a gardener and because it pleased me to hire him as such. As for his alternate occupation, I’d rather not make it public knowledge, but that actually pleases me more and it is what pays off the considerate debt that his family owes me. I could have had their house sold and have thrown them into the street, but then I met Orlando and another solution presented itself. The boy is understandably quite grateful,” Sean told a frowning Viggo
“And I suppose he has to show his gratitude to any guest of your choice. That is just short of slavery. And you have even branded him, as if he were cattle,” Viggo accused.
“Viggo, he is my servant and therefore, it is his job to serve me and my guests in any way I see fit. If he refuses, well, then he knows the way to the door and the consequences of such a decision. Somehow, I do not think he would risk seeing his family homeless.”
“So, you send him to my bed unwilling?”
“Come now, Viggo, I’ve known you since you were wearing short trousers and rolling in the mud. You couldn’t hurt anyone if you tried. I’m sure you’ve made it a memorable night for him. Now, let’s not talk about this anymore, the count and countess look bored, and that is never a good thing.”
Viggo followed his host, seething inside, but unwilling to make a scene in front of the other guests, especially not over his dalliances with another man. As the day dragged by, Viggo tried to catch a glimpse of Orlando, but the boy was never in sight and Viggo spent the day smelling roses everywhere he turned. He avoided Sean until evening and spent his time wandering across the well-tended grounds of the estate.
Viggo caught himself wondering whether or not Orlando had worked in one corner or another of the garden, if he had smelled this or that flower and if he’d ever bathed in the small pond hidden behind a grove of trees.
The moon was high by the time Viggo returned to the mansion and he debated whether he should have dinner with the other guests. He smiled slightly to himself when the scent of roses assaulted him again. The boy had certainly gotten under his skin. Just then, the door to Sean’s study opened and Sean himself stepped out, straightening his collar.
Concealing himself behind a pillar, Viggo was unwilling to start a possibly unpleasant conversation with his host and long time friend. He frowned slightly when he heard Sean speak through the closing door into the room beyond: “Clean yourself up and I do not want any of the servants to find you here looking so disheveled.”
Sean closed the door and headed towards the dining room. Viggo heard laughter through the ornate doors and light streamed out, then Sean disappeared inside and the doors closed.
Curious but wary, Viggo tiptoed to the closed study door. He pressed the doorjamb slowly and pushed the door slightly ajar, peaking inside. What he saw was unexpected and Viggo felt his stomach knot.
Viggo found Orlando kneeling on the plush carpet by Sean’s desk, his clothes in disarray, if not altogether missing. Something invisible to Viggo’s eyes seemed to have caught Orlandos attention as he was staring dazedly at an empty wall, hand gripping blindly at the clawed legs of the ornate desk. Viggo walked in slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, but the motion seemed to go unnoticed.
Viggo kneeled by the boy’s side and gently set a hand on his shoulder. Sitting on what apparently was a small pile of his own clothes, Orlando only wore a loose unbuttoned shirt. “Are you alright?” Viggo asked, feeling foolish even as he asked the question.
“The painting… they moved the painting,” he said softly, continuing to stare at the empty wall.
“What painting, Orlando?” Viggo asked confused.
Orlando shuddered slightly and Viggo took off his coat to cover the boy.
“I would always look at the painting when…when he takes me on the desk, but… now it’s gone,” Orlando murmured, as the shudders increased. “He said he wants to hang a mirror instead”.
Viggo bit back a harsh retort addressed to his “friend”, not wanting to upset Orlando further. “Come, let’s get you up and to your room so you can rest,” he said instead. He supported the unsteady young man to the second door of the study and peaked out to make sure no one was passing through the corridor. He then guided the half naked boy to the servants’ quarters, asking a pliable Orlando for directions to his small room.
Depositing Orlando on his bed, Viggo looked around in search of anything the boy could use to clean himself, without having to go to the shared bathing area that the servants used. He espied a large carafe of water and fresh linen and retrieved them, placing them within Orlando’s reach. Viggo then shyly petted Orlando’s cheek: “I’m going to leave you alone now, will you be alright?”
Unconsciously, Orlando leaned into the caress, making Viggo’s skin prickle: “This is the second time today that I find myself in a position to thank you.” Orlando raised practiced sultry eyes and his hand slid up Viggo’s leg, “I should thank you properly,” he added.
Viggo gently stayed his hand: “I do not want anything,” he said.
“Everyone wants something,” Orlando mused, but he let Viggo hold his hand, drawing warmth from this man who confused him so much.
Viggo bent and placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead, and then he left the room, feeling that Orlando’s words had somehow rung true, even as far as he was concerned.
TBC.