fic: White butterfly 28
Title: White Butterfly 28
Author: Seraphim Grace
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/taliasen1256.html, http://www.Seraphim-grace.livejournal.com. If you want it ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18.
Pairings: Crawford x Ran others to be notified later.
Warnings: Het, yaoi, vast cast.
As soon as Crawford was deeply asleep Aya rose from the futon and pulled on Crawford's clothes, as he had been told his own were still damp as Baba had not allowed them to dry off before putting on fresh clothes. He made sure to leave the room as quietly as he could and went to the fire pit room where most everyone was eating their supper.
“Farfarello,” he said carefully, “if you have finished, will you accompany me?”
“Where's Crawford?” Schuldig asked.
“Asleep, he's had a hard day.” Aya said bluntly.
“You reek of sex.” Farfarello said in an equally cold manner.
Aya didn't bother to answer him.
In the bowels of the house, through a hidden door in the burial room and along a long underground corridor was the prison. Most houses of this size had at least one cell, but the Fujimiya house had three, they were called the Mouth, the Stomach and the Bowels, although no one could really remember why. Beyond the three rooms was a great stone door called The Despair but it had, to everyone's notice, never been opened and there were two idea of what it was, one said it was just a carved facsimile of the doorway used for ceremonies that were long lost, others said that it was the doorway to the House of the Windowless Rooms and it had been there since the beginning and it was the reason why the Fujimiya had built their house here.
Aya had never kept it secret and Farfarello, especially, seemed fascinated by it, but never to the extent of trying to pry the two great stone doors open.
In the Mouth Crawford kept his prisoner, and tied into an ebi shape and with a rope across his mouth to gag him. “Farfarello, give him some water,” Aya said quietly, “because he is going to tell me what I want to know.”
“Does Crawford know of this?” Farfarello asked.
“I stand here in his clothes as his concubine, do you think he doesn't know?” Give him some water.” Farfarello lifted a bowl from the side that was full of water and held it to the man's mouth.
“Do you know who I am?” Aya asked the man.
The captive remained silent.
“My name is Aya-no-Bara who was born under the name Fujimiya Ran.” The man's eyes started to look panicked. “You were told that I was dead.” It was a statement and not a question. “I know that the Takatori hired you, I know that they told you that I was dead and that my wrath could not fall on you.” The man made a gagging sound, “but you know who I am, and you know what I am, do you not?”
He paused for a long painful moment in which the captive started to squirm.
“I have just returned from a period of meditation in the House of Sleep.” The captive pissed himself. “You are here in House Fujimiya in a room called the Mouth.” Aya smiled at the man's obvious terror, “now unless you wish to be cast into the Stomach for one day for Purification, then through the Bowels to cast off the last of your humanity before this elf here,” he looked at Farfarello, “throws you live into the Despair for the Creatures of the House of Windowless Rooms to tear into for all eternity. Now, will you tell me what I want to know.”
The man nodded frantically. “I thought that you would.” He said with a faint smile. “Who hired you to attack us? Who hired you to harry the Fujimiya lands bequeathed to my master?” Farfarello undid his gag so the man could speak.
“Takatori,” the man stammered.
Aya backhanded him, hard. “Of course the Takatori hired you, do you not think that I can work that out on my own?” He kicked him, hard. “Now tell me what I want to know and I shall give you to the elf for death, or I will destroy your soul.” Aya looked demonic in the flickering light from the torches set on the walls. “Do you know what purification in the stomach is?” He looked at his elf, “You will enjoy this part.”
“First, we put out your eyes, then drive spikes into your ears and cut out your tongue, we sear the meat from your hands and your feet and then we leave you in a pool of your own filth for one night and one day.” His tone was calm and even. “Then he move you into the bowels where your entrails are removed and ropes are tied about what remains of your extremities and then are stretched over rails and winches until you are torn apart, then and only then you will be thrown into the Despair and we have many years of experience at doing this, so you will be alive when you take that final leap.”
Farfarello did smile and managed to look quite impressed. “I thought that your people were bloodless.”
Aya shook his head, “we are inventive and cold.” He corrected, “and the ropes are a torture indeed, aren't they, all your joints pulled out of socket, it makes the final tearing apart just that much easier.”
“Saijou,” the man shouted, “Saijou hired us.”
Aya pushed him aside with his foot, “was that so hard?” He asked, “Elf, he is yours, enjoy yourself.” Then he turned and walked away leaving the man to his fate.
“You said you'd kill me.” The man shouted.
“Oh he will,” Aya said over his shoulder blithely, “eventually.”
Farfarello moved over to him, putting his hand on Aya's shoulder. Aya moved quickly, and threw him hard unto the floor. The Elf just laughed and grinned, “I like you much better since your visit to the House of Sleep.”
“I wish I cared.”
“But it gets the blood boiling, doesn't it, a little torture?” Farfarello lay on the floor, “do you think Crawford will be awake when you get back, or what about the peachy little Ken?”
“I won't take your dragons,” Aya answered, “your seduction attempts amuse me too much to spoil the game.”
When he returned Crawford was awake, sitting up with his back against the wall and the brazier between them. His look was murderous. “I must admit,” he drawled, the firelight reflecting off his glasses, “that using sex to knock me out was ingenious to alloy your tryst.”
“I went to see the prisoner,” Aya answered calmly, “I suspected that he had information that you could not get from him. I went with the elf, ask him if you don't trust me.”
Crawford looked him up and down, “and what did you manage to extract from him.”
“It was Takatori Saijou who hired the bandits.” Aya said and slipped off the haori letting it pool on the floor, “he has told the locals that I'm dead and the house is in the hands of thieves, they are attacking, believe it or not, in my name.” He undid the hakama so that he stood naked in front of Crawford. “If I was planning a tryst I would have drugged your tea, not just given you a massage and sucked your cock.” He flicked out his hair with his fingers. “I asked you to rest so you would not make yourself ill, but still you cannot sleep. Would you like me to read to you?”
“Would you drug me?” Crawford pressed.
“If it was beneficial for my cause.” Aya replied calmly, kneeling before his master.
“And what is your cause, my Aya no Bara?” he used the full title that Rukia had given him to remind Aya that he was owned.
“I want to take the people who destroyed my family and kill them all, I want to give back what was stolen to my sister and restore House Fujimiya.” Aya answered bluntly, “at the moment you have promised me this so I am prepared to help you with your schemes. I took the information from the bandit, I found out who sent him.”
“And how did you do that, did you fuck him?” Crawford was growling now, jealous and the skin of his neck was flushed.
“No,” Aya replied, “ask the elf, I gave him a choice, either I could use my terrible Fujimiya magic and cast him into the House of Windowless Rooms alive or dead, if he told me what I wanted I'd let the elf kill him, if not, well, he would have called my bluff.” His face was completely impassive and without emotion. He looked like a naked porcelain doll, where the only colour in him was the stark red hair on his head, the rest of his body recently shaved. His skin was very white and in the cold forming goose flesh. “I imagine I would have had to drag it out a little more, I might even have killed him myself.”
Crawford leaned forward and caught both of Aya's wrists in his hand and squeezed tightly; pushing Aya unto his side on the crumpled futon.
“You will learn, Aya, to obey me, eventually.” He ran the length of his face along Aya's rib cage, "and that sometimes one must wait to get what you want," then he pushed him away, "sleep with your servants in the main hall. You will not stay here tonight."
"
Author: Seraphim Grace
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/taliasen1256.html, http://www.Seraphim-grace.livejournal.com. If you want it ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18.
Pairings: Crawford x Ran others to be notified later.
Warnings: Het, yaoi, vast cast.
As soon as Crawford was deeply asleep Aya rose from the futon and pulled on Crawford's clothes, as he had been told his own were still damp as Baba had not allowed them to dry off before putting on fresh clothes. He made sure to leave the room as quietly as he could and went to the fire pit room where most everyone was eating their supper.
“Farfarello,” he said carefully, “if you have finished, will you accompany me?”
“Where's Crawford?” Schuldig asked.
“Asleep, he's had a hard day.” Aya said bluntly.
“You reek of sex.” Farfarello said in an equally cold manner.
Aya didn't bother to answer him.
In the bowels of the house, through a hidden door in the burial room and along a long underground corridor was the prison. Most houses of this size had at least one cell, but the Fujimiya house had three, they were called the Mouth, the Stomach and the Bowels, although no one could really remember why. Beyond the three rooms was a great stone door called The Despair but it had, to everyone's notice, never been opened and there were two idea of what it was, one said it was just a carved facsimile of the doorway used for ceremonies that were long lost, others said that it was the doorway to the House of the Windowless Rooms and it had been there since the beginning and it was the reason why the Fujimiya had built their house here.
Aya had never kept it secret and Farfarello, especially, seemed fascinated by it, but never to the extent of trying to pry the two great stone doors open.
In the Mouth Crawford kept his prisoner, and tied into an ebi shape and with a rope across his mouth to gag him. “Farfarello, give him some water,” Aya said quietly, “because he is going to tell me what I want to know.”
“Does Crawford know of this?” Farfarello asked.
“I stand here in his clothes as his concubine, do you think he doesn't know?” Give him some water.” Farfarello lifted a bowl from the side that was full of water and held it to the man's mouth.
“Do you know who I am?” Aya asked the man.
The captive remained silent.
“My name is Aya-no-Bara who was born under the name Fujimiya Ran.” The man's eyes started to look panicked. “You were told that I was dead.” It was a statement and not a question. “I know that the Takatori hired you, I know that they told you that I was dead and that my wrath could not fall on you.” The man made a gagging sound, “but you know who I am, and you know what I am, do you not?”
He paused for a long painful moment in which the captive started to squirm.
“I have just returned from a period of meditation in the House of Sleep.” The captive pissed himself. “You are here in House Fujimiya in a room called the Mouth.” Aya smiled at the man's obvious terror, “now unless you wish to be cast into the Stomach for one day for Purification, then through the Bowels to cast off the last of your humanity before this elf here,” he looked at Farfarello, “throws you live into the Despair for the Creatures of the House of Windowless Rooms to tear into for all eternity. Now, will you tell me what I want to know.”
The man nodded frantically. “I thought that you would.” He said with a faint smile. “Who hired you to attack us? Who hired you to harry the Fujimiya lands bequeathed to my master?” Farfarello undid his gag so the man could speak.
“Takatori,” the man stammered.
Aya backhanded him, hard. “Of course the Takatori hired you, do you not think that I can work that out on my own?” He kicked him, hard. “Now tell me what I want to know and I shall give you to the elf for death, or I will destroy your soul.” Aya looked demonic in the flickering light from the torches set on the walls. “Do you know what purification in the stomach is?” He looked at his elf, “You will enjoy this part.”
“First, we put out your eyes, then drive spikes into your ears and cut out your tongue, we sear the meat from your hands and your feet and then we leave you in a pool of your own filth for one night and one day.” His tone was calm and even. “Then he move you into the bowels where your entrails are removed and ropes are tied about what remains of your extremities and then are stretched over rails and winches until you are torn apart, then and only then you will be thrown into the Despair and we have many years of experience at doing this, so you will be alive when you take that final leap.”
Farfarello did smile and managed to look quite impressed. “I thought that your people were bloodless.”
Aya shook his head, “we are inventive and cold.” He corrected, “and the ropes are a torture indeed, aren't they, all your joints pulled out of socket, it makes the final tearing apart just that much easier.”
“Saijou,” the man shouted, “Saijou hired us.”
Aya pushed him aside with his foot, “was that so hard?” He asked, “Elf, he is yours, enjoy yourself.” Then he turned and walked away leaving the man to his fate.
“You said you'd kill me.” The man shouted.
“Oh he will,” Aya said over his shoulder blithely, “eventually.”
Farfarello moved over to him, putting his hand on Aya's shoulder. Aya moved quickly, and threw him hard unto the floor. The Elf just laughed and grinned, “I like you much better since your visit to the House of Sleep.”
“I wish I cared.”
“But it gets the blood boiling, doesn't it, a little torture?” Farfarello lay on the floor, “do you think Crawford will be awake when you get back, or what about the peachy little Ken?”
“I won't take your dragons,” Aya answered, “your seduction attempts amuse me too much to spoil the game.”
When he returned Crawford was awake, sitting up with his back against the wall and the brazier between them. His look was murderous. “I must admit,” he drawled, the firelight reflecting off his glasses, “that using sex to knock me out was ingenious to alloy your tryst.”
“I went to see the prisoner,” Aya answered calmly, “I suspected that he had information that you could not get from him. I went with the elf, ask him if you don't trust me.”
Crawford looked him up and down, “and what did you manage to extract from him.”
“It was Takatori Saijou who hired the bandits.” Aya said and slipped off the haori letting it pool on the floor, “he has told the locals that I'm dead and the house is in the hands of thieves, they are attacking, believe it or not, in my name.” He undid the hakama so that he stood naked in front of Crawford. “If I was planning a tryst I would have drugged your tea, not just given you a massage and sucked your cock.” He flicked out his hair with his fingers. “I asked you to rest so you would not make yourself ill, but still you cannot sleep. Would you like me to read to you?”
“Would you drug me?” Crawford pressed.
“If it was beneficial for my cause.” Aya replied calmly, kneeling before his master.
“And what is your cause, my Aya no Bara?” he used the full title that Rukia had given him to remind Aya that he was owned.
“I want to take the people who destroyed my family and kill them all, I want to give back what was stolen to my sister and restore House Fujimiya.” Aya answered bluntly, “at the moment you have promised me this so I am prepared to help you with your schemes. I took the information from the bandit, I found out who sent him.”
“And how did you do that, did you fuck him?” Crawford was growling now, jealous and the skin of his neck was flushed.
“No,” Aya replied, “ask the elf, I gave him a choice, either I could use my terrible Fujimiya magic and cast him into the House of Windowless Rooms alive or dead, if he told me what I wanted I'd let the elf kill him, if not, well, he would have called my bluff.” His face was completely impassive and without emotion. He looked like a naked porcelain doll, where the only colour in him was the stark red hair on his head, the rest of his body recently shaved. His skin was very white and in the cold forming goose flesh. “I imagine I would have had to drag it out a little more, I might even have killed him myself.”
Crawford leaned forward and caught both of Aya's wrists in his hand and squeezed tightly; pushing Aya unto his side on the crumpled futon.
“You will learn, Aya, to obey me, eventually.” He ran the length of his face along Aya's rib cage, "and that sometimes one must wait to get what you want," then he pushed him away, "sleep with your servants in the main hall. You will not stay here tonight."
"