In His Defense; Valyn/Mero; PG-13
Title: In His Defense
Fandom: Halfblood Chronicles
Pairing: Valyn/Mero, established relationship
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: N/A
Word Count: 1037
Summary: Valyn was certainly appreciative that Shadow felt the need to defend him, but not when it earned the younger boy punishment from Dyran himself.
There was blood on the floor of the suite. Valyn frowned as he put his foot down in it. It was fresh, and it led a trail through the sitting room into the bedroom. He didn’t need to think to know who’s it was.
“Shadow?”
He spoke the name as he stepped through the doorway into the bedroom. Shadow was stretched out on the bed, facedown, his tunic off and his torso swathed in bandages that were soaked through with blood.
“Oh, ancestors.”
It wasn’t the first time that Shadow had received a beating while away from Valyn’s side - as rare as that occurrence was. But rarely was it this bad. The young elven lord felt his stomach turn as he looked at Shadow’s crimson stained bandages. He was still bleeding. They’d left him here still bleeding. They left him there still bleeding. How could they?
“Shadow? Are you awake?”
There hadn’t been any response yet. Valyn feared his cousin had passed out, from pain or blood loss.
“M’wake,” came the mumbled from against the pillows.
“Was it my father again?” Valyn asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. In the table beside there were herbal salves and better bandages than would ever be used on a slave. He kept them there, just in case.
“Who else.”
“Why?” Valyn was laying out the medical supplies on the bed beside Shadow’s prone form. What an odd picture it had to be. He in his red and gold finery, groomed and oiled to the height of elven perfection, preparing to bathe and bandage his own body slave. How his father would fume if he knew.
“Let’s just say I need to learn to still my tongue.”
“Still it or lose it,” Valyn teased lightly, pulling as gently as he could at the bloodstained bandages. They were sticky and warm beneath his fingers, and he felt blood clinging to his fingertips and nails. He felt Shadow wince beneath him, straining away from the ministrations.
“I know it hurts,” Valyn said, his tone soothing. “But I doubt that they cleaned your wounds very well. And the bandaging is horrific.”
“I know. I’m sorry about the blood….”
“Ancestors, don’t apologize. I’ll clean it up after I’ve seen to you.” Shadow was the important thing. Now it was Valyn’s turn to wince when he saw the raw, open slashes across Shadow’s back. Father hadn’t spared the whip, clearly. It was all the elf could do to keep his gorge from rising. Shadow’s back was torn open almost to the muscle, white slabs of fat visible beneath the edges of rent skin.
Whatever Shadow had said, it had upset Dyran greatly. And Valyn knew he’d hear about it later. But for now….
Gritting his teeth, Valyn scooped up a bit of salve on his fingers and began gently massaging it into Shadow’s back. He hated the feel of the open wounds under his hands. One day he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving Shadow for five minutes. One day he wouldn’t spend every hour fearing for the boy’s safety, his heart pounding and his stomach heaving whenever someone looked at Shadow for a moment or two too long.
“How’s that?” Valyn asked, rubbing more of the soothing ointment into Shadow’s cuts.
“Better.”
“Good. I wish I could do more.” But there was only so much he could get away with. Even this would get him in trouble.
The salve was finished, worked as deeply into the wounds as Valyn dared. His skill with herbs and ointments came from Delia, who had graciously taught him. He wasn’t a master of it at all, but he knew enough.
“I need you to sit up, for the bandages.” He was hesitant to ask Shadow to move, but there wasn’t any other way to manage it. Every grunt and gasp Shadow made as he pushed himself to sitting hit Valyn like a punch to the gut.
“He said something about you,” Shadow said, out of nowhere.
“Hmm?” Valyn was winding the bandages.
“Your father. He said… well it doesn’t matter, because what he said was true. But it was the way he said it.”
“You know I don’t care what he says about me.” Unless it involved some sort of punishment.
“He compared you to him. Val, not so tight, please!”
“Sorry.” Valyn eased on the bandages. “What do you mean, he compared me to him?” He was nothing like his father. His father was a murderer, a madman, a sadistic creature….
“He said… he made a comment about you ‘sharing his tastes’. And the way he looked at me when he said it… he said it the way everyone else says it about him. They’ll tolerate it, but they think it’s disgusting. I couldn’t keep my tongue, Val, I’m sorry.”
“You really should have.” Valyn sighed and tied off the bandages. “You know he can’t possibly understand anything about us. Really, Shadow.” He couldn’t keep the chiding tone out of his voice. Certainly a part of him was touched that Shadow stood against his father on his behalf, but not when it came at this price! And anything Shadow did to draw Dyran’s attention onto him….
“I know. It was stupid. But….”
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Valyn sat back. “Those bandages should do better than the ones the estate’s physiker slapped on. But you’re going to have to take it easy for a few weeks, Father did quite a number on you. I imagine he wants to speak with me?”
“He didn’t mention it.” Shadow brushed his hair - sweat soaked and lank - out of his face. “He’s in the harem now, he’ll be there for a while.”
“I didn’t need to know that.” But Valyn smiled. He reached up and tucked back a lock of Shadow’s hair, feeling defeated and worn, as though he’d suffered the beating himself. “Get some rest. I’ll clean up the sitting room.”
“Thanks.” Shadow slumped forward, brushing a kiss against Valyn’s fingertips before stretching back out on his stomach. Valyn’s eyes lingered a moment on the clean white bandages that now swathed Shadow’s back and stood.
He still needed to clean his lover’s blood from the sitting room.
Fandom: Halfblood Chronicles
Pairing: Valyn/Mero, established relationship
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: N/A
Word Count: 1037
Summary: Valyn was certainly appreciative that Shadow felt the need to defend him, but not when it earned the younger boy punishment from Dyran himself.
There was blood on the floor of the suite. Valyn frowned as he put his foot down in it. It was fresh, and it led a trail through the sitting room into the bedroom. He didn’t need to think to know who’s it was.
“Shadow?”
He spoke the name as he stepped through the doorway into the bedroom. Shadow was stretched out on the bed, facedown, his tunic off and his torso swathed in bandages that were soaked through with blood.
“Oh, ancestors.”
It wasn’t the first time that Shadow had received a beating while away from Valyn’s side - as rare as that occurrence was. But rarely was it this bad. The young elven lord felt his stomach turn as he looked at Shadow’s crimson stained bandages. He was still bleeding. They’d left him here still bleeding. They left him there still bleeding. How could they?
“Shadow? Are you awake?”
There hadn’t been any response yet. Valyn feared his cousin had passed out, from pain or blood loss.
“M’wake,” came the mumbled from against the pillows.
“Was it my father again?” Valyn asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. In the table beside there were herbal salves and better bandages than would ever be used on a slave. He kept them there, just in case.
“Who else.”
“Why?” Valyn was laying out the medical supplies on the bed beside Shadow’s prone form. What an odd picture it had to be. He in his red and gold finery, groomed and oiled to the height of elven perfection, preparing to bathe and bandage his own body slave. How his father would fume if he knew.
“Let’s just say I need to learn to still my tongue.”
“Still it or lose it,” Valyn teased lightly, pulling as gently as he could at the bloodstained bandages. They were sticky and warm beneath his fingers, and he felt blood clinging to his fingertips and nails. He felt Shadow wince beneath him, straining away from the ministrations.
“I know it hurts,” Valyn said, his tone soothing. “But I doubt that they cleaned your wounds very well. And the bandaging is horrific.”
“I know. I’m sorry about the blood….”
“Ancestors, don’t apologize. I’ll clean it up after I’ve seen to you.” Shadow was the important thing. Now it was Valyn’s turn to wince when he saw the raw, open slashes across Shadow’s back. Father hadn’t spared the whip, clearly. It was all the elf could do to keep his gorge from rising. Shadow’s back was torn open almost to the muscle, white slabs of fat visible beneath the edges of rent skin.
Whatever Shadow had said, it had upset Dyran greatly. And Valyn knew he’d hear about it later. But for now….
Gritting his teeth, Valyn scooped up a bit of salve on his fingers and began gently massaging it into Shadow’s back. He hated the feel of the open wounds under his hands. One day he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving Shadow for five minutes. One day he wouldn’t spend every hour fearing for the boy’s safety, his heart pounding and his stomach heaving whenever someone looked at Shadow for a moment or two too long.
“How’s that?” Valyn asked, rubbing more of the soothing ointment into Shadow’s cuts.
“Better.”
“Good. I wish I could do more.” But there was only so much he could get away with. Even this would get him in trouble.
The salve was finished, worked as deeply into the wounds as Valyn dared. His skill with herbs and ointments came from Delia, who had graciously taught him. He wasn’t a master of it at all, but he knew enough.
“I need you to sit up, for the bandages.” He was hesitant to ask Shadow to move, but there wasn’t any other way to manage it. Every grunt and gasp Shadow made as he pushed himself to sitting hit Valyn like a punch to the gut.
“He said something about you,” Shadow said, out of nowhere.
“Hmm?” Valyn was winding the bandages.
“Your father. He said… well it doesn’t matter, because what he said was true. But it was the way he said it.”
“You know I don’t care what he says about me.” Unless it involved some sort of punishment.
“He compared you to him. Val, not so tight, please!”
“Sorry.” Valyn eased on the bandages. “What do you mean, he compared me to him?” He was nothing like his father. His father was a murderer, a madman, a sadistic creature….
“He said… he made a comment about you ‘sharing his tastes’. And the way he looked at me when he said it… he said it the way everyone else says it about him. They’ll tolerate it, but they think it’s disgusting. I couldn’t keep my tongue, Val, I’m sorry.”
“You really should have.” Valyn sighed and tied off the bandages. “You know he can’t possibly understand anything about us. Really, Shadow.” He couldn’t keep the chiding tone out of his voice. Certainly a part of him was touched that Shadow stood against his father on his behalf, but not when it came at this price! And anything Shadow did to draw Dyran’s attention onto him….
“I know. It was stupid. But….”
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Valyn sat back. “Those bandages should do better than the ones the estate’s physiker slapped on. But you’re going to have to take it easy for a few weeks, Father did quite a number on you. I imagine he wants to speak with me?”
“He didn’t mention it.” Shadow brushed his hair - sweat soaked and lank - out of his face. “He’s in the harem now, he’ll be there for a while.”
“I didn’t need to know that.” But Valyn smiled. He reached up and tucked back a lock of Shadow’s hair, feeling defeated and worn, as though he’d suffered the beating himself. “Get some rest. I’ll clean up the sitting room.”
“Thanks.” Shadow slumped forward, brushing a kiss against Valyn’s fingertips before stretching back out on his stomach. Valyn’s eyes lingered a moment on the clean white bandages that now swathed Shadow’s back and stood.
He still needed to clean his lover’s blood from the sitting room.