Watching Over You - Chapter 17
Title: Watching Over You - Chapter 17
Author: Bluespire
Pairing: Ville/Bam, Ville/Migé
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, Migé, 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: Implied and attempted rape (although not graphic). Read at your own risk
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.
Boundaries
Migé had not spent the night in Ville's room again. Occasionally, after a night of drinking, he and Ville would share a rough caress. Often this ended with Migé pushing Ville to his knees and rutting into his mouth until he completed, then leaving him on the floor unfulfilled, a sneer on the elder Viking’s lips. Ville knew it was wrong to allow Migé to treat him such but he didn't know what else to do to make things right.
When raiding season came, Migé chose to sleep on deck with a warrior named Lindé. Ville had been hurt but he kept quiet, sharing a blanket with Burton instead. Ville and Burton had been friends for years, but although Burton was only a few years older than Ville, he was wise beyond his years and felt more to Ville like a mentor than a friend. Ville thought about it but ultimately did not speak to Burton of what had happened between he and Migé. Still, he suspected the other man had some idea. His eyes were keen and nothing seemed to escape his notice.
Ville remembered the day that it happened. They had been raiding. They'd started with several small farms on the outskirts of a monastic village. That had gone well enough but as they got closer and closer to the riches to be found with the monks, the fighting became more and more fierce. A light rain was falling and the streets were muddy. The villagers' resistance had gone on for hours and Ville was exhausted as the day neared its end. Still he fought on.
Dusk found Ville squared off against a particularly challenging foe. That in combination with the wet ground caused his feet to slip from beneath him. Shifting to avoid an axe to the shoulder, Ville he dealt a deathblow to the man with his spear.
As he got to his feet, he noticed a small wooden door to his right. Thinking it must be a checkpoint or guard's station of some kind, Ville tried the door but found it blocked. Placing his shoulder against it, Ville pushed hard and the door gave. Stumbling into the room, Ville closed it behind him to avoid an attacker at his back. The room was small. As Ville's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that there was a man with his back to him and almost immediately Ville realized that it was Migé. He seemed to be working at something with his body but Ville couldn't see past him in the dark to know what it might be. Ville wondered why he hadn't turned when Ville had come in he room.
"Migé, do you require assistance?" Ville asked in a hushed and hurried voice.
Migé jerked away then, almost violently, and Ville could see that he'd been standing behind a young monk, bent over a simple wooden altar. The monk's robes were raised, his flanks bare. There was no question as to what Migé had been doing.
Ville felt a cold numbness wash over his body and stood frozen as Migé’s face pulled into an enraged snarl. Without warning, Migé turned and slayed the young monk, lopping his head from his body and letting both fall to the floor.
“Migé," Ville began in a quiet voice.
"Do not speak," Migé growled. "It was you who did this to me. This is what you have made of me."
Ville shook his head. "No." The words refusing to make sense to his befuddled brain.
"I told you not to speak!" Migé roared then stumbled forward and wrapped strong hands around Ville's biceps. Dumbstruck, Ville allowed himself to be pulled forward to the rough altar against which Migé had held the monk. Ville tripped over the headless body at his feet but didn’t dare look down. At the altar, Migé stepped behind Ville and roughly shoved him with his hips. The slain man's blood stained the front of Ville's tunic.
Ville closed his eyes for a moment as Migé’s intention became clear. So this is what it has come to, he thought sickeningly. He didn't fight as Migé pulled the belt from around his waist, dropping the scabbard holding Skrymir to the ground.
“You don't even resist me?" Migé ground out, roughly stripping Ville's trousers down and pushing his tunic up his back, forcing Ville to bend at the waist, pressing his hard length against Ville through Migé’s trousers. “Why do you not fight?"
Ville felt the breath catch in his throat but he forced his words out. “You must do as you will.”
“You allow yourself to be conquered?” Migé asked, his voice quieter as it found Ville’s ear from behind him.
Ville felt Migé’s manhood press into the crack of his behind but refused to give in to his fear. “You do not conquer me, Migé. All that I give to you I give in love and friendship.”
Migé’s whole body convulsed in a sob behind Ville. Ville remained still and after a moment, Ville felt Migé lay his forehead on Ville’s back.
He waited for Migé to continue. When it was clear that he would not, Ville pushed him back and gingerly turned in Migé’s grasp to face his friend.
Migé’s eyes were red and rimmed and the tortured expression on his face made Ville’s breath catch in his chest. Leaning forward, Ville allowed his hand to caress Migé’s jaw softly for a moment, breaking the contact when Migé turned away.
“What do you need to heal the wound I have dealt you, my friend? I offer all but my life which you know is not mine to give.”
Migé shook his head and kept his eyes fixed to a point on the floor beyond Ville’s shoulder. “It is true that I loved you too,” he spoke slowly, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. “My care for you was like that of a husband to wife. I was not prepared for my feelings when our parts were exchanged. “
“Migé, it has always been your strength that I have admired, that I have looked to follow. Were you like a wife, I could not have loved you. I regret it deeply if I have stolen some of that strength from you. I seek to make things right again. Please take what I offer, heal yourself, accept my amends.”
Migé shook his head. “No, it is weakness in which I was reveling, not strength.” Migé raised a hand to the curls escaping Ville’s helmet and Ville suppressed a sad smile. “I am right in my thinking now. I wish things to be between us as they were… before.”
Ville nodded and reached out to clasp Migé’s hand. Migé ignored him and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Ville’s lips before turning away and striding from the room.
Ville took his time re-securing his clothing and strapping on Skrymir. He felt both relieved and disturbed. Relieved that he had begun to restore his friendship with Migé, although he was not foolish enough to believe that there were no problems ahead on that front. And disturbed at how thoroughly he’d destroyed his friend. It is a powerful act of passion that can lay low a warrior as great as Migé. The message was clear to Ville, there was something very wrong with him indeed that he sought to do that to a friend.
Ville came back to the present, shaking the grim thoughts from his mind. He and Migé had been successful in resurrecting their friendship. In time, they even renewed a physical relationship of sorts, one that was very casual. Ville’s longing for more had never ceased, however. It had been three years since that time. Ville had dallied with many a woman and even with some of the other men. He knew where his tastes lie and he had accepted it about himself. But he was also very aware of the boundaries he must never allow himself to cross. With Bam, he had wanted to go there almost immediately and so was forced to give him up. For perhaps the thousandth time, Ville reminded himself firmly that his decision was the right one.
***
Chapter 18 - Kari
Author: Bluespire
Pairing: Ville/Bam, Ville/Migé
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, Migé, 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: Implied and attempted rape (although not graphic). Read at your own risk
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.
Boundaries
Migé had not spent the night in Ville's room again. Occasionally, after a night of drinking, he and Ville would share a rough caress. Often this ended with Migé pushing Ville to his knees and rutting into his mouth until he completed, then leaving him on the floor unfulfilled, a sneer on the elder Viking’s lips. Ville knew it was wrong to allow Migé to treat him such but he didn't know what else to do to make things right.
When raiding season came, Migé chose to sleep on deck with a warrior named Lindé. Ville had been hurt but he kept quiet, sharing a blanket with Burton instead. Ville and Burton had been friends for years, but although Burton was only a few years older than Ville, he was wise beyond his years and felt more to Ville like a mentor than a friend. Ville thought about it but ultimately did not speak to Burton of what had happened between he and Migé. Still, he suspected the other man had some idea. His eyes were keen and nothing seemed to escape his notice.
Ville remembered the day that it happened. They had been raiding. They'd started with several small farms on the outskirts of a monastic village. That had gone well enough but as they got closer and closer to the riches to be found with the monks, the fighting became more and more fierce. A light rain was falling and the streets were muddy. The villagers' resistance had gone on for hours and Ville was exhausted as the day neared its end. Still he fought on.
Dusk found Ville squared off against a particularly challenging foe. That in combination with the wet ground caused his feet to slip from beneath him. Shifting to avoid an axe to the shoulder, Ville he dealt a deathblow to the man with his spear.
As he got to his feet, he noticed a small wooden door to his right. Thinking it must be a checkpoint or guard's station of some kind, Ville tried the door but found it blocked. Placing his shoulder against it, Ville pushed hard and the door gave. Stumbling into the room, Ville closed it behind him to avoid an attacker at his back. The room was small. As Ville's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that there was a man with his back to him and almost immediately Ville realized that it was Migé. He seemed to be working at something with his body but Ville couldn't see past him in the dark to know what it might be. Ville wondered why he hadn't turned when Ville had come in he room.
"Migé, do you require assistance?" Ville asked in a hushed and hurried voice.
Migé jerked away then, almost violently, and Ville could see that he'd been standing behind a young monk, bent over a simple wooden altar. The monk's robes were raised, his flanks bare. There was no question as to what Migé had been doing.
Ville felt a cold numbness wash over his body and stood frozen as Migé’s face pulled into an enraged snarl. Without warning, Migé turned and slayed the young monk, lopping his head from his body and letting both fall to the floor.
“Migé," Ville began in a quiet voice.
"Do not speak," Migé growled. "It was you who did this to me. This is what you have made of me."
Ville shook his head. "No." The words refusing to make sense to his befuddled brain.
"I told you not to speak!" Migé roared then stumbled forward and wrapped strong hands around Ville's biceps. Dumbstruck, Ville allowed himself to be pulled forward to the rough altar against which Migé had held the monk. Ville tripped over the headless body at his feet but didn’t dare look down. At the altar, Migé stepped behind Ville and roughly shoved him with his hips. The slain man's blood stained the front of Ville's tunic.
Ville closed his eyes for a moment as Migé’s intention became clear. So this is what it has come to, he thought sickeningly. He didn't fight as Migé pulled the belt from around his waist, dropping the scabbard holding Skrymir to the ground.
“You don't even resist me?" Migé ground out, roughly stripping Ville's trousers down and pushing his tunic up his back, forcing Ville to bend at the waist, pressing his hard length against Ville through Migé’s trousers. “Why do you not fight?"
Ville felt the breath catch in his throat but he forced his words out. “You must do as you will.”
“You allow yourself to be conquered?” Migé asked, his voice quieter as it found Ville’s ear from behind him.
Ville felt Migé’s manhood press into the crack of his behind but refused to give in to his fear. “You do not conquer me, Migé. All that I give to you I give in love and friendship.”
Migé’s whole body convulsed in a sob behind Ville. Ville remained still and after a moment, Ville felt Migé lay his forehead on Ville’s back.
He waited for Migé to continue. When it was clear that he would not, Ville pushed him back and gingerly turned in Migé’s grasp to face his friend.
Migé’s eyes were red and rimmed and the tortured expression on his face made Ville’s breath catch in his chest. Leaning forward, Ville allowed his hand to caress Migé’s jaw softly for a moment, breaking the contact when Migé turned away.
“What do you need to heal the wound I have dealt you, my friend? I offer all but my life which you know is not mine to give.”
Migé shook his head and kept his eyes fixed to a point on the floor beyond Ville’s shoulder. “It is true that I loved you too,” he spoke slowly, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. “My care for you was like that of a husband to wife. I was not prepared for my feelings when our parts were exchanged. “
“Migé, it has always been your strength that I have admired, that I have looked to follow. Were you like a wife, I could not have loved you. I regret it deeply if I have stolen some of that strength from you. I seek to make things right again. Please take what I offer, heal yourself, accept my amends.”
Migé shook his head. “No, it is weakness in which I was reveling, not strength.” Migé raised a hand to the curls escaping Ville’s helmet and Ville suppressed a sad smile. “I am right in my thinking now. I wish things to be between us as they were… before.”
Ville nodded and reached out to clasp Migé’s hand. Migé ignored him and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Ville’s lips before turning away and striding from the room.
Ville took his time re-securing his clothing and strapping on Skrymir. He felt both relieved and disturbed. Relieved that he had begun to restore his friendship with Migé, although he was not foolish enough to believe that there were no problems ahead on that front. And disturbed at how thoroughly he’d destroyed his friend. It is a powerful act of passion that can lay low a warrior as great as Migé. The message was clear to Ville, there was something very wrong with him indeed that he sought to do that to a friend.
Ville came back to the present, shaking the grim thoughts from his mind. He and Migé had been successful in resurrecting their friendship. In time, they even renewed a physical relationship of sorts, one that was very casual. Ville’s longing for more had never ceased, however. It had been three years since that time. Ville had dallied with many a woman and even with some of the other men. He knew where his tastes lie and he had accepted it about himself. But he was also very aware of the boundaries he must never allow himself to cross. With Bam, he had wanted to go there almost immediately and so was forced to give him up. For perhaps the thousandth time, Ville reminded himself firmly that his decision was the right one.
***
Chapter 18 - Kari