Watching Over You - Chapter 16
Title: Watching Over You - Chapter 16
Author: Bluespire
Pairing: Ville/Bam, Ville/Mige
Summary: Ville is a Viking warrior, eldest son of Kari, a Viking Jarl. Bam is a slave (called a thrall). What happens when Ville pays Bam's slave price and moves him from the kitchens into his bed?
Rating: This chapter, NC-17
Disclaimer: While Ville, Bam, Mige, Kari, Dunn, Burton, Missy and some of the others mentioned within this story are real people, the events that take place in this work of fiction are not real. No harm or offense is meant by the characters and events depicted within.
Warnings: Suspension of disbelief may be required.
Author's Notes: Moving slow here but still moving. :) Thanks again to melindajane for her loving support and unflagging enthusiasm that inspires me to keep going on this one. And thanks, MJ, for the pre-read and dissection of this new chapter. I might never have posted it. :)
Nightmare
Ville sat at his place at the long table and tried not to watch Bam where he ate with Dunn and some of the other thralls. Missy sat with them tonight. He’d seen her with Bam more and more frequently since Bam had gone to work with Dunn in the forges.
“They are naught more than friends,” Burton spoke as he sat down next to Ville on the benches.
Ville looked up sharply.
Burton grinned. “Startled so easily? I’m not sure you’re fit for raiding.”
Ville shook his head but didn’t comment. Burton and Migé were the only two men Ville would let speak to him with that kind of impudence. Normally he might still bristle but with Burton, there was no use. Because his own father had been a thrall, Burton had an odd sense of social hierarchy. Ville had come to accept that about him. Plus, he was a good warrior and an even better friend. Ville valued that more than any overarching status he might possess in their dealings together.
“How do you know?” Ville asked, taking a bite of his meal with his fingers.
Burton drew his eyebrows together. “The startle was hard to miss.”
Ville shook his head. “I mean Missy and… and Bam.”
Burton let his gaze cross the room and settle at the other table for a moment, then return to look at Ville. “Is it so hard to say his name?”
Ville looked down and didn’t answer.
Burton watched him for a moment then began eating silently.
Ville waited but when it was clear Burton wasn’t going to speak, he stood and shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot before making his apologies to Burton. “I have some preparation to do so I shall leave you.”
“Wait.” Burton reached out to grip Ville’s arm, stopping him.
Ville paused in his movements.
“Missy? Is that what they call the girl?” Burton gestured with his chin to the other table dropping Ville’s arm.
Ville nodded then spoke, “How do you know that she and Bam are naught but friends?”
Burton smiled and shook his head. “You do surprise me sometimes.”
Now it was Ville’s turn for confusion.
“I am certain that Bam and Missy are naught but friends… but it was Bam and Dunn of whom I was speaking.”
Ville stood frozen to his place, then nodded, unable to make his voice work. After a moment, he turned and walked from the hall.
***
Ville lay on his pallet, his mind spinning. He had intended for Bam to work with Dunn and learn a trade. Ville had an idea that when Dunn earned his freedom, he could release Bam as well so that he could find a wife, marry, have children and raise them free. Now Burton was reassuring him that Bam and Dunn were not more than friends. What did that mean? Why would he even think it? Had Ville already influenced Bam so much that there was no going back for him?
The idea of Bam and Dunn together made him simmer with rage. He didn’t release Bam and deny himself so that another man could have him. He’d been trying to protect him.
Ville lay on his pallet for a long time before he finally closed his eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
The sky was dark, the clouds grey and heavy with snow. Ville swung Skrymir, which had seemed to grow in length as he fought. He moved though a green grassy field; cutting down all who approached then hopped a low stone wall and entered the first of a series of small huts gathered together. There was no one inside. Ville pulled a bag from his belt and rifled through a small chest against the wall but there was nothing of value.
Exiting, he prepared to move to the next but once outside he looked up at the sky and was surprised to find that it had cleared. The sun was out and it looked to be a beautiful spring day. Where is everyone? he wondered, spinning slowly full circle and not seeing another soul. With another turn, though, something caught his eye across the clearing. There was a table set with a red cloth, wine, and bread. Ville felt his heart beat heavy in his chest and he let his arms fall to his side as he found himself drawn to the scene. At the table, Ville reached for the bread and broke off a chunk then washed it down with wine, enjoying the good quality and rich flavor of each.
“I thought you might need refreshment.”
Ville turned with a start at the voice. Bam was standing at his side, the sun shining through his auburn curls. “Bam,” he breathed. Happiness flowed through him. His sword and the bag that had been dangling from his fingers dropped unnoticed to the closely cropped grass.
“Sit,” Bam gestured.
Instead Ville stepped forward and took Bam in his arms. Sliding one hand through his hair, he fit their mouths together. Bam opened immediately. Passion surged through Ville’s body and his tongue plundered greedily.
“Ville!” Bam gasped, pulling away, then scrambled to remove his clothes. Ville watched him, stunned, then followed suit. When they were both bare, Ville swept the food and drink from the table, and gripping Bam, roughly lifted him to the surface.
Bam didn’t hesitate, spreading his thighs as he leaned back, urging Ville to crawl onto the table and lie between his legs.
“Bam,” Ville groaned, as a wave of sensation overtook him.
“Ville. Now! I want you now!” Bam moaned. Spitting into his palm, he reached between their bodies and used the saliva to slicken Ville’s manhood. “Please!” Bam urged, spreading his legs further and bringing Ville’s member to his entrance.
Ville looked down at Bam, confused by his urgency but so excited that he could not resist. Leaning down, he clamped his mouth over Bam’s and pushed inside.
“Mmmmuuuh,” Bam whined.
“Am I hurting you?” Ville asked, his breath coming in pants.
“No. It feels good, so good, Ville. Don’t stop.”
Ville leaned in and put his mouth against the warm skin of Bam’s neck, wondering briefly where his collar was, before he lost all coherent thought in the warm tight push pull of their bodies moving together. Ville couldn’t hold on for as long as he liked. He had wanted Bam so much and for so long.
“Bam,” he breathed, as he felt his climax approaching. “I’m going to…” Ville pulled back to look at Bam but there was something wrong. Bam’s face was turned to the side in a grimace of pain. “Bam?” Ville asked. He didn’t move. Ville’s arousal drained from him, replaced by fear and then horror as he pulled away and realized that Bam’s body was covered in blood.
“Gods, what…?” Ville tried to move off him but his fist was clamped in a death grip around something hard, perfectly shaped for his palm.
Looking down, Ville yelped and let go his hold, scrambling away with a start. His hand had been clenched around the hilt of his sword which was embedded deeply into the side of Bam’s abdomen.
“Bam,” Ville screamed putting bloody hands to his face.
Bam did not move.
Ville turned desperately to seek help but was greeted with a scene of chaos. The men from Ville’s raiding party were looting. Some of the villagers continued to try to resist but stood no chance against the Vikings. The clearing was littered with bodies and a few of the huts were aflame. Ville looked down to find that he was fully clothed and covered in blood. Skrymir was back in his hand. Ville’s eyes frantically turned back to Bam where he lay bloodied and broken on the table.
“Bam,” Ville sobbed, shifting him gently so that he cold pull the cloth from beneath him and use it to staunch the blood seeping from the gash in his side.
“You have destroyed him.”
Ville heard Migé’s voice speak. “Help me! I must get him to the boat!”
“Did I not warn you?” Migé asked.
Ville spun to look at his friend; horror entering his expression as he realized what Migé was saying… and that it was true. Turning again to Bam, Ville found him clean and clothed, his nails trimmed, his body prepared for funeral, the table on which he lay slowing being consumed by flames.
“Bam,” he cried and Bam opened his blue eyes. “Bam!” Ville screamed and felt Migé’s arms wrap around him from behind.
“No!” Ville fought but could not break free of Migé’s grip. “Migé, he’s alive!” he insisted desperately. Ville continued to struggle but was no match for Migé’s brawn as he was pulled from the table. Ville watched helplessly as Bam was engulfed in flames, his blue eyes the last thing to fade from Ville’s sight.
Turning, Ville, ran from the village.
Ville woke with a start, his face wet with tears. “Gods,” he gasped, sitting in his bed and running his hands through his hair as the horror of his nightmare came back to him in flashes.
He leaned back again and made efforts to settle his breath. His mind drifted to Migé, remembering, again, that first summer. Things had not been the same between Ville and Migé after their argument. Migé had stayed away from him for a few days but they were young men with the demands of their bodies always on their minds. Before long, Migé was sleeping in Ville’s room again. Still, that closeness they’d experienced was no longer there.
Ville had kept his thoughts to himself but if anything, rather than deterring him, Migé’s outburst had made Ville more curious as to what exactly two men could experience with each other. At private times, Ville had experimented with himself. He knew that there was pleasure to be had down the road that Migé shunned but he also knew enough not to mention it out loud. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from pushing the issue. When they were intimate, Ville let his hands and tongue wander to that place. Migé stiffened at first but over the days and weeks, relaxed again, allowing Ville to explore. Ville perfected a blank, innocent expression that he would use whenever he’d gone too far and found himself the object of Migé’s scrutiny.
That winter was a long one, remaining unusually cold even into the spring. Ville remembered the day that Migé finally relented under his subtle pressure. They had been in Ville’s chamber, as usual. He’d been kissing and licking, exploring Migé with his fingers as he stroked Migé’s member. Migé would not admit it but Ville could tell he enjoyed the sensation of Ville’s fingers moving in and out of his tight hole. Ville had found a good rhythm and Migé had shifted to allow Ville more access, thrusting his hips slightly in time to deepen the penetration. Ville had his mouth on Migé’s member and could tell he was close when suddenly, Ville stopped. Migé looked down in protest but Ville was too quick, covering Migé’s body with his own and kissing Migé’s mouth, bringing one had to Migé’s hard length to continue the stroking and placing his own saliva slickened member to the hole that Ville’s fingers had deserted.
“Ville… what are you…”
Ville pulled back and met Migé’s eyes, his hands continuing to stroke Migé’s member slowly, his soft round head nudging at Migé’s puckered hole. “Tell me you don’t like it, that you don’t want to feel my shaft inside you. Tell me true and I will stop.”
Migé was quiet, an unreadable expression warring with the panic in his blue eyes.
“It is between us what we do here, Migé.” Ville spoke earnestly but kept his voice calm and steady. “It is for no one else to know or care.”
“I will know.” Migé spoke quietly and used the heels of his hands to push at Ville’s chest.
Ville held fast, refusing to be pushed away and continued to hold Migé’s eyes with his own.
Migé was the first to break the gaze. Looking away, he sighed and nodded once curtly. Ville raised his eyebrows and snuffed out his small involuntary smile. Turning Migé’s head to face him, he lowered his mouth to Migé’s as he pushed forward.
Migé grunted in pain but Ville bore down steadily until he was fully sheathed, then waited until Migé relaxed around him. It was like this when he’d first explored with his fingers so he knew a little of what he could expect. It was difficult to remain still inside Migé. He was tight and warm and wet. Everything in Ville’s body told him to move but he waited. It didn’t take long for Migé to adjust and soon he was rocking his hips telling Ville to take the next step. Ville wanted to pull back and look at Migé’s face but he feared what he might see there and kept his forehead pressed to Migé’s shoulder.
Migé completed with Ville inside him so Ville knew it wasn’t all bad. Afterward Migé was silent though, turning away from Ville on the pallet. Ville put an arm around him and pressed close from behind and Migé allowed it but his body felt stiff and he did not reach for Ville’s arm as he so often did when they lay like this.
When Ville woke in the morning, Migé had gone.
It had been a mistake. Ville knew that now. He’d been young then, having just turned 17. He never should have pushed it but how could he have known what would happen?
***
Chapter 17 - Boundaries
Author: Bluespire
Pairing: Ville/Bam, Ville/Mige
Summary: Ville is a Viking warrior, eldest son of Kari, a Viking Jarl. Bam is a slave (called a thrall). What happens when Ville pays Bam's slave price and moves him from the kitchens into his bed?
Rating: This chapter, NC-17
Disclaimer: While Ville, Bam, Mige, Kari, Dunn, Burton, Missy and some of the others mentioned within this story are real people, the events that take place in this work of fiction are not real. No harm or offense is meant by the characters and events depicted within.
Warnings: Suspension of disbelief may be required.
Author's Notes: Moving slow here but still moving. :) Thanks again to melindajane for her loving support and unflagging enthusiasm that inspires me to keep going on this one. And thanks, MJ, for the pre-read and dissection of this new chapter. I might never have posted it. :)
Nightmare
Ville sat at his place at the long table and tried not to watch Bam where he ate with Dunn and some of the other thralls. Missy sat with them tonight. He’d seen her with Bam more and more frequently since Bam had gone to work with Dunn in the forges.
“They are naught more than friends,” Burton spoke as he sat down next to Ville on the benches.
Ville looked up sharply.
Burton grinned. “Startled so easily? I’m not sure you’re fit for raiding.”
Ville shook his head but didn’t comment. Burton and Migé were the only two men Ville would let speak to him with that kind of impudence. Normally he might still bristle but with Burton, there was no use. Because his own father had been a thrall, Burton had an odd sense of social hierarchy. Ville had come to accept that about him. Plus, he was a good warrior and an even better friend. Ville valued that more than any overarching status he might possess in their dealings together.
“How do you know?” Ville asked, taking a bite of his meal with his fingers.
Burton drew his eyebrows together. “The startle was hard to miss.”
Ville shook his head. “I mean Missy and… and Bam.”
Burton let his gaze cross the room and settle at the other table for a moment, then return to look at Ville. “Is it so hard to say his name?”
Ville looked down and didn’t answer.
Burton watched him for a moment then began eating silently.
Ville waited but when it was clear Burton wasn’t going to speak, he stood and shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot before making his apologies to Burton. “I have some preparation to do so I shall leave you.”
“Wait.” Burton reached out to grip Ville’s arm, stopping him.
Ville paused in his movements.
“Missy? Is that what they call the girl?” Burton gestured with his chin to the other table dropping Ville’s arm.
Ville nodded then spoke, “How do you know that she and Bam are naught but friends?”
Burton smiled and shook his head. “You do surprise me sometimes.”
Now it was Ville’s turn for confusion.
“I am certain that Bam and Missy are naught but friends… but it was Bam and Dunn of whom I was speaking.”
Ville stood frozen to his place, then nodded, unable to make his voice work. After a moment, he turned and walked from the hall.
***
Ville lay on his pallet, his mind spinning. He had intended for Bam to work with Dunn and learn a trade. Ville had an idea that when Dunn earned his freedom, he could release Bam as well so that he could find a wife, marry, have children and raise them free. Now Burton was reassuring him that Bam and Dunn were not more than friends. What did that mean? Why would he even think it? Had Ville already influenced Bam so much that there was no going back for him?
The idea of Bam and Dunn together made him simmer with rage. He didn’t release Bam and deny himself so that another man could have him. He’d been trying to protect him.
Ville lay on his pallet for a long time before he finally closed his eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
The sky was dark, the clouds grey and heavy with snow. Ville swung Skrymir, which had seemed to grow in length as he fought. He moved though a green grassy field; cutting down all who approached then hopped a low stone wall and entered the first of a series of small huts gathered together. There was no one inside. Ville pulled a bag from his belt and rifled through a small chest against the wall but there was nothing of value.
Exiting, he prepared to move to the next but once outside he looked up at the sky and was surprised to find that it had cleared. The sun was out and it looked to be a beautiful spring day. Where is everyone? he wondered, spinning slowly full circle and not seeing another soul. With another turn, though, something caught his eye across the clearing. There was a table set with a red cloth, wine, and bread. Ville felt his heart beat heavy in his chest and he let his arms fall to his side as he found himself drawn to the scene. At the table, Ville reached for the bread and broke off a chunk then washed it down with wine, enjoying the good quality and rich flavor of each.
“I thought you might need refreshment.”
Ville turned with a start at the voice. Bam was standing at his side, the sun shining through his auburn curls. “Bam,” he breathed. Happiness flowed through him. His sword and the bag that had been dangling from his fingers dropped unnoticed to the closely cropped grass.
“Sit,” Bam gestured.
Instead Ville stepped forward and took Bam in his arms. Sliding one hand through his hair, he fit their mouths together. Bam opened immediately. Passion surged through Ville’s body and his tongue plundered greedily.
“Ville!” Bam gasped, pulling away, then scrambled to remove his clothes. Ville watched him, stunned, then followed suit. When they were both bare, Ville swept the food and drink from the table, and gripping Bam, roughly lifted him to the surface.
Bam didn’t hesitate, spreading his thighs as he leaned back, urging Ville to crawl onto the table and lie between his legs.
“Bam,” Ville groaned, as a wave of sensation overtook him.
“Ville. Now! I want you now!” Bam moaned. Spitting into his palm, he reached between their bodies and used the saliva to slicken Ville’s manhood. “Please!” Bam urged, spreading his legs further and bringing Ville’s member to his entrance.
Ville looked down at Bam, confused by his urgency but so excited that he could not resist. Leaning down, he clamped his mouth over Bam’s and pushed inside.
“Mmmmuuuh,” Bam whined.
“Am I hurting you?” Ville asked, his breath coming in pants.
“No. It feels good, so good, Ville. Don’t stop.”
Ville leaned in and put his mouth against the warm skin of Bam’s neck, wondering briefly where his collar was, before he lost all coherent thought in the warm tight push pull of their bodies moving together. Ville couldn’t hold on for as long as he liked. He had wanted Bam so much and for so long.
“Bam,” he breathed, as he felt his climax approaching. “I’m going to…” Ville pulled back to look at Bam but there was something wrong. Bam’s face was turned to the side in a grimace of pain. “Bam?” Ville asked. He didn’t move. Ville’s arousal drained from him, replaced by fear and then horror as he pulled away and realized that Bam’s body was covered in blood.
“Gods, what…?” Ville tried to move off him but his fist was clamped in a death grip around something hard, perfectly shaped for his palm.
Looking down, Ville yelped and let go his hold, scrambling away with a start. His hand had been clenched around the hilt of his sword which was embedded deeply into the side of Bam’s abdomen.
“Bam,” Ville screamed putting bloody hands to his face.
Bam did not move.
Ville turned desperately to seek help but was greeted with a scene of chaos. The men from Ville’s raiding party were looting. Some of the villagers continued to try to resist but stood no chance against the Vikings. The clearing was littered with bodies and a few of the huts were aflame. Ville looked down to find that he was fully clothed and covered in blood. Skrymir was back in his hand. Ville’s eyes frantically turned back to Bam where he lay bloodied and broken on the table.
“Bam,” Ville sobbed, shifting him gently so that he cold pull the cloth from beneath him and use it to staunch the blood seeping from the gash in his side.
“You have destroyed him.”
Ville heard Migé’s voice speak. “Help me! I must get him to the boat!”
“Did I not warn you?” Migé asked.
Ville spun to look at his friend; horror entering his expression as he realized what Migé was saying… and that it was true. Turning again to Bam, Ville found him clean and clothed, his nails trimmed, his body prepared for funeral, the table on which he lay slowing being consumed by flames.
“Bam,” he cried and Bam opened his blue eyes. “Bam!” Ville screamed and felt Migé’s arms wrap around him from behind.
“No!” Ville fought but could not break free of Migé’s grip. “Migé, he’s alive!” he insisted desperately. Ville continued to struggle but was no match for Migé’s brawn as he was pulled from the table. Ville watched helplessly as Bam was engulfed in flames, his blue eyes the last thing to fade from Ville’s sight.
Turning, Ville, ran from the village.
Ville woke with a start, his face wet with tears. “Gods,” he gasped, sitting in his bed and running his hands through his hair as the horror of his nightmare came back to him in flashes.
He leaned back again and made efforts to settle his breath. His mind drifted to Migé, remembering, again, that first summer. Things had not been the same between Ville and Migé after their argument. Migé had stayed away from him for a few days but they were young men with the demands of their bodies always on their minds. Before long, Migé was sleeping in Ville’s room again. Still, that closeness they’d experienced was no longer there.
Ville had kept his thoughts to himself but if anything, rather than deterring him, Migé’s outburst had made Ville more curious as to what exactly two men could experience with each other. At private times, Ville had experimented with himself. He knew that there was pleasure to be had down the road that Migé shunned but he also knew enough not to mention it out loud. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from pushing the issue. When they were intimate, Ville let his hands and tongue wander to that place. Migé stiffened at first but over the days and weeks, relaxed again, allowing Ville to explore. Ville perfected a blank, innocent expression that he would use whenever he’d gone too far and found himself the object of Migé’s scrutiny.
That winter was a long one, remaining unusually cold even into the spring. Ville remembered the day that Migé finally relented under his subtle pressure. They had been in Ville’s chamber, as usual. He’d been kissing and licking, exploring Migé with his fingers as he stroked Migé’s member. Migé would not admit it but Ville could tell he enjoyed the sensation of Ville’s fingers moving in and out of his tight hole. Ville had found a good rhythm and Migé had shifted to allow Ville more access, thrusting his hips slightly in time to deepen the penetration. Ville had his mouth on Migé’s member and could tell he was close when suddenly, Ville stopped. Migé looked down in protest but Ville was too quick, covering Migé’s body with his own and kissing Migé’s mouth, bringing one had to Migé’s hard length to continue the stroking and placing his own saliva slickened member to the hole that Ville’s fingers had deserted.
“Ville… what are you…”
Ville pulled back and met Migé’s eyes, his hands continuing to stroke Migé’s member slowly, his soft round head nudging at Migé’s puckered hole. “Tell me you don’t like it, that you don’t want to feel my shaft inside you. Tell me true and I will stop.”
Migé was quiet, an unreadable expression warring with the panic in his blue eyes.
“It is between us what we do here, Migé.” Ville spoke earnestly but kept his voice calm and steady. “It is for no one else to know or care.”
“I will know.” Migé spoke quietly and used the heels of his hands to push at Ville’s chest.
Ville held fast, refusing to be pushed away and continued to hold Migé’s eyes with his own.
Migé was the first to break the gaze. Looking away, he sighed and nodded once curtly. Ville raised his eyebrows and snuffed out his small involuntary smile. Turning Migé’s head to face him, he lowered his mouth to Migé’s as he pushed forward.
Migé grunted in pain but Ville bore down steadily until he was fully sheathed, then waited until Migé relaxed around him. It was like this when he’d first explored with his fingers so he knew a little of what he could expect. It was difficult to remain still inside Migé. He was tight and warm and wet. Everything in Ville’s body told him to move but he waited. It didn’t take long for Migé to adjust and soon he was rocking his hips telling Ville to take the next step. Ville wanted to pull back and look at Migé’s face but he feared what he might see there and kept his forehead pressed to Migé’s shoulder.
Migé completed with Ville inside him so Ville knew it wasn’t all bad. Afterward Migé was silent though, turning away from Ville on the pallet. Ville put an arm around him and pressed close from behind and Migé allowed it but his body felt stiff and he did not reach for Ville’s arm as he so often did when they lay like this.
When Ville woke in the morning, Migé had gone.
It had been a mistake. Ville knew that now. He’d been young then, having just turned 17. He never should have pushed it but how could he have known what would happen?
***
Chapter 17 - Boundaries