Chapter 3: Flesh and Iron
Jan. 20th, 2005 06:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brainofckTitle/Chapter: Chapter 3: Flesh and Iron
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: R
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's ownporno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen. *snortle*
Archive rights: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interestd, and my journalsmuck_a_luck and brainofck
Further Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame:uisgich, for encouraging me
0 Years
Arena
Water and Oil
Viggo had begun to suspect that he had been assigned to Sean as a sort of project. Viggo's first days had been long and filled with what seemed to be tests. The elderly man in command of the compound, their Weapons Master, had given Viggo weapon after odd weapon and set the other men against him. Viggo had earned nods of approval for his knife work, and frankly stunned reactions to his sword play, but had been hopeless with the other weapons, many of which he couldn't even name. Sean was beside him at every step. Providing words; discussing his performance with the Weapons Master; and offering Viggo a reassuring and comforting presence as he faced humiliation after humiliation.
When the testing was done, and his training began, Sean was his sparring partner day after day. Viggo was grateful, but he often wondered what offense Sean had committed to deserve the onerous task of training him.
On the first night, after their honors in the arena, the evening meal in the garrison had been raucous. The Weapons Master presided over the meal from the head of the table, and six other men joined them for the meal. They showered Sean with questions, and seemed to be teasing him mercilessly. When they tried to speak to Viggo and he didn't understand, they laughed and taunted him as well. But when Sean began to speak, the room fell to a complete hush, with only exclamations and cheers from his rapt audience. Even the Weapons Master had been attentive.
When the food was eventually eaten and the story finished, the Weapons Master leaned over and muttered something in Sean's ear. Whatever he said infuriated Sean. He stood suddenly, gripped Viggo's shoulder hard, and gestured that Viggo should follow him. Then he shoved aside a curtain, revealing a long narrow corridor back into the building. He stalked down the hall to a low doorway. He stopped and motioned Viggo in ahead of him, with one of those broad friendly smiles he had been using with Viggo since he helped him up from the arena floor. But this time, the smile didn't touch his eyes. Viggo stepped through the door and waited.
Sean had quick, angry words with the Weapons Master, who had followed them to the door. When Sean finally entered the room and pulled the door closed behind him, he was still muttering to himself. He turned to face the door and Viggo heard the distinct sound of a bar thudding into place on the other side. Viggo shivered in the darkness of the warm night.
The guards had come for him early on his third day in the compound. Sean had already left their room to wash and eat. Viggo was sore and stiff from his weapons work, and moving more slowly towards breakfast. He was only half-dressed when they came in.
They led him out into the cool, moist morning. They caught his arms as he approached the blacksmith's hut, but he didn't understand what was happening until he saw the twining pattern of the glowing metal. It matched the burned mark, high on Sean's left shoulder. He'd fought then, but it was far too late. They pinned him hard against the wall. When he finally stopped struggling, one of the guards offered him a strap to bite.
He would never forget the bitter, acrid smell of hot iron and his own burning flesh.
By the time Sean burst into the hut, it was over. The guards let go his arms and stepped back. Despite the fact that it hurt more than anything Viggo could remember, it was only a small burn. He kept his feet, though he stumbled a little when the guards suddenly let him go. He spat out the strap and handed it to the blacksmith's boy. Viggo was vaguely aware of Sean yelling at the guards, who just laughed at him; then at the blacksmith, who replied with soothing words. The boy took Viggo by the hand and led him to a bench by the door. He pressed a small hand gently into the middle of Viggo's back. There was a basin of water on the floor. Viggo lay forward on the bench so that his burned shoulder was over the basin. The boy began to ladle the water over the burn. The first cold touch brought a sob from Viggo, the first sound he had made since entering the hut.
When the cold water had reduced the unbearable burn to a throbbing heat, Viggo sat up and tried to regroup. He was startled to find that it was not the boy treating his shoulder any longer, but Sean. As Viggo moved to stand, Sean came up on his right side, wrapping an arm around his waist, so that Viggo could drape his good arm around Sean's shoulder and lean on him as they crossed the yard. Viggo wanted to be strong, push Sean away. There wasn't any reason Viggo couldn't walk on his own back to the barracks. But his head felt light, and Sean's warm strength was reassuring contact, and Viggo didn't have the will to fight anyway. He let Sean guide him back to their room, though he had enough presence of mind to notice when the door creaked closed behind them and the bar thudded into place. They hadn't been locked in during the day before. Sean was muttering under his breath again.
Sean pressed Viggo to lay on the low sleeping platform they shared. He settled Viggo on his right side, then climbed over him to arrange cushions in front. When everything was how he wanted it, he nudged Viggo forward, guiding him to drape his left arm over the pillows, so that the cushions supported Viggo's left chest and shoulder. It was comfortable like that, and Viggo suddenly felt exhausted, like he could fall asleep if left alone, despite the ache in his shoulder and back.
Sean left him there and went to rummage in the carved chest in the corner where he kept his clothes and other few belongings. Viggo felt Sean's weight on the bed again. There was a strong medicinal fragrance, then a cool touch to the skin just below the burn. Viggo flinched away. Sean put a steadying hand in the small of his back. He said something in a reassuring voice, then the cool touch came again, this time on the burn itself. Viggo finally screamed. He cried into the pillow, but he didn't move.
Viggo was just catching his breath again, when Sean came back to the bed. Sean tugged at the loose pants Viggo had been wearing.
"No. I'll just sleep in them," Viggo protested hoarsely. But his nurse was insistent, and finally Viggo shifted his hips, and uncurled his legs a little, so that Sean could strip him and be done with it. Though he was starting to feel like an idiot, lying here in the bed. Whatever Sean had put on his shoulder was already working, the throb reduced to a painful ache. But as long as the door was closed, there wasn't much to do anyway but sleep or think. Sleeping was much better than thinking.
The last few days made sense, now. He wasn't a prisoner, he was a slave. Some kind of fighting slave, apparently. He thought back over how well they had been fed, the quality of their housing, the amount of freedom the others were allowed, and he guessed that they must be very valuable slaves and possibly willing. What was he going to do?
Again, Sean left the bedside and returned. This time the cool touch on his back was slick, and the fragrance was floral. Viggo almost flinched away from it. What was it with this place and oil? The fact that every day he had been here Sean had found some reason to touch him with oiled hands was enough to have him think, for the hundredth time, that this was some sort of extended hallucination - a cross between a wet dream and a nightmare - and that he was going to wake up in the morning with a tear-damp pillow and sticky sheets. But the ache in his shoulder still throbbed. That had been too real for a dream.
Sean pressed and kneaded Viggo's muscles as efficiently as he'd oiled and scraped him in the bath. It was amazing. He needed it desperately after two long days of hard training. Viggo relaxed forward into the cushions supporting him, trusting them to hide any embarrassing reaction to Sean's touch.
As he worked Viggo's muscles with strong hands, Sean began to chant, quietly, barely more than a whisper. Viggo tried to follow it. It had a sing-song rhythm that reminded Viggo of spoken histories and sagas, but he couldn't pick out any words yet. The murmur would have been soothing, Viggo thought, except that as he went on, Sean's hands were traveling lower on Viggo's body, first doing wonderful things for his lower back, then kneading and pressing hard into the muscles of his buttocks, then down over sore thighs and tight calves. Sean continued to chant. Viggo thought the verses were repeating. The sound of Sean's silk and honey voice, combined with the touch of his hands on Viggo's skin, had Viggo so hard he was aching. Even though Viggo knew what was going to happen. Even though he knew that Sean was going to roll him over to do the fronts of his legs, and the effects of Sean's touch would be evident for anyone to see. But he couldn't bring his tired, confused, and now lust-hazed brain into focus on any thought that would distract his cock.
Soon enough, Sean began to shift the bedding, gently tugging Viggo's cushion out of his arms and wedging it carefully against his back, urging Viggo to roll over. Viggo fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in embarrassment. He was an actor, after all. Instead he schooled his expression to relaxed and drowsy. He kept his eyes open long enough to give Sean what he hoped was an appreciative half-smile, before letting his lids fall closed and settling back into the bed with an contented sigh. Best damned performance of my life, Viggo thought, because he had seen Sean's eyes flicker down and the tiny smile that touched his moving lips. Viggo imagined that most people wouldn't have seen the look, it was so subtle. Sean's hands on the fronts of Viggo's thighs were as efficient as they had been everywhere else. It seemed that Sean lingered there, working those muscles even more thoroughly, but Viggo put that down to his own imagination and the way time seemed to stretch during the most humiliating and embarrassing scenes. He tried to focus on Sean's words instead of his hands.
Sean was finally finished. The chanting ended. The hands lifted off his body. Sean draped a light blanket over him then rustled around the room. Viggo rolled back onto his stomach and began to relax into the drowsy state he had been feigning. But then, oddly, he felt Sean on the bed again. He slipped under the blanket with him, and Viggo was startled to feel bare skin against his arm and side. He was even more startled when Sean wrapped himself around him, throwing a strong heavy thigh over Viggo's legs and carefully wrapping a long arm over Viggo's lower back. His face pressed into Viggo's good shoulder and Viggo was suddenly hyper-aware of something else, hard and hot, pressing against his hip. Then Sean was still and soon after his breathing evened out in sleep.
It was a long while before Viggo was ready to drowse again.
Chapter 4: Night Terrors
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: R
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own
Archive rights: www.rugbytackling.com, Green Opals, if they're interestd, and my journals
muck_a_luck and brainofckFurther Disclaimer: Any resemblance to Ancient Rome mostly incidental. I have never seen any gladiator flick. Ever. Honest. Not even stinky Gladiator that stole FOTR's Oscar. *glares*
Blame:
uisgich, for encouraging me0 Years
Arena
Water and Oil
Viggo had begun to suspect that he had been assigned to Sean as a sort of project. Viggo's first days had been long and filled with what seemed to be tests. The elderly man in command of the compound, their Weapons Master, had given Viggo weapon after odd weapon and set the other men against him. Viggo had earned nods of approval for his knife work, and frankly stunned reactions to his sword play, but had been hopeless with the other weapons, many of which he couldn't even name. Sean was beside him at every step. Providing words; discussing his performance with the Weapons Master; and offering Viggo a reassuring and comforting presence as he faced humiliation after humiliation.
When the testing was done, and his training began, Sean was his sparring partner day after day. Viggo was grateful, but he often wondered what offense Sean had committed to deserve the onerous task of training him.
On the first night, after their honors in the arena, the evening meal in the garrison had been raucous. The Weapons Master presided over the meal from the head of the table, and six other men joined them for the meal. They showered Sean with questions, and seemed to be teasing him mercilessly. When they tried to speak to Viggo and he didn't understand, they laughed and taunted him as well. But when Sean began to speak, the room fell to a complete hush, with only exclamations and cheers from his rapt audience. Even the Weapons Master had been attentive.
When the food was eventually eaten and the story finished, the Weapons Master leaned over and muttered something in Sean's ear. Whatever he said infuriated Sean. He stood suddenly, gripped Viggo's shoulder hard, and gestured that Viggo should follow him. Then he shoved aside a curtain, revealing a long narrow corridor back into the building. He stalked down the hall to a low doorway. He stopped and motioned Viggo in ahead of him, with one of those broad friendly smiles he had been using with Viggo since he helped him up from the arena floor. But this time, the smile didn't touch his eyes. Viggo stepped through the door and waited.
Sean had quick, angry words with the Weapons Master, who had followed them to the door. When Sean finally entered the room and pulled the door closed behind him, he was still muttering to himself. He turned to face the door and Viggo heard the distinct sound of a bar thudding into place on the other side. Viggo shivered in the darkness of the warm night.
The guards had come for him early on his third day in the compound. Sean had already left their room to wash and eat. Viggo was sore and stiff from his weapons work, and moving more slowly towards breakfast. He was only half-dressed when they came in.
They led him out into the cool, moist morning. They caught his arms as he approached the blacksmith's hut, but he didn't understand what was happening until he saw the twining pattern of the glowing metal. It matched the burned mark, high on Sean's left shoulder. He'd fought then, but it was far too late. They pinned him hard against the wall. When he finally stopped struggling, one of the guards offered him a strap to bite.
He would never forget the bitter, acrid smell of hot iron and his own burning flesh.
By the time Sean burst into the hut, it was over. The guards let go his arms and stepped back. Despite the fact that it hurt more than anything Viggo could remember, it was only a small burn. He kept his feet, though he stumbled a little when the guards suddenly let him go. He spat out the strap and handed it to the blacksmith's boy. Viggo was vaguely aware of Sean yelling at the guards, who just laughed at him; then at the blacksmith, who replied with soothing words. The boy took Viggo by the hand and led him to a bench by the door. He pressed a small hand gently into the middle of Viggo's back. There was a basin of water on the floor. Viggo lay forward on the bench so that his burned shoulder was over the basin. The boy began to ladle the water over the burn. The first cold touch brought a sob from Viggo, the first sound he had made since entering the hut.
When the cold water had reduced the unbearable burn to a throbbing heat, Viggo sat up and tried to regroup. He was startled to find that it was not the boy treating his shoulder any longer, but Sean. As Viggo moved to stand, Sean came up on his right side, wrapping an arm around his waist, so that Viggo could drape his good arm around Sean's shoulder and lean on him as they crossed the yard. Viggo wanted to be strong, push Sean away. There wasn't any reason Viggo couldn't walk on his own back to the barracks. But his head felt light, and Sean's warm strength was reassuring contact, and Viggo didn't have the will to fight anyway. He let Sean guide him back to their room, though he had enough presence of mind to notice when the door creaked closed behind them and the bar thudded into place. They hadn't been locked in during the day before. Sean was muttering under his breath again.
Sean pressed Viggo to lay on the low sleeping platform they shared. He settled Viggo on his right side, then climbed over him to arrange cushions in front. When everything was how he wanted it, he nudged Viggo forward, guiding him to drape his left arm over the pillows, so that the cushions supported Viggo's left chest and shoulder. It was comfortable like that, and Viggo suddenly felt exhausted, like he could fall asleep if left alone, despite the ache in his shoulder and back.
Sean left him there and went to rummage in the carved chest in the corner where he kept his clothes and other few belongings. Viggo felt Sean's weight on the bed again. There was a strong medicinal fragrance, then a cool touch to the skin just below the burn. Viggo flinched away. Sean put a steadying hand in the small of his back. He said something in a reassuring voice, then the cool touch came again, this time on the burn itself. Viggo finally screamed. He cried into the pillow, but he didn't move.
Viggo was just catching his breath again, when Sean came back to the bed. Sean tugged at the loose pants Viggo had been wearing.
"No. I'll just sleep in them," Viggo protested hoarsely. But his nurse was insistent, and finally Viggo shifted his hips, and uncurled his legs a little, so that Sean could strip him and be done with it. Though he was starting to feel like an idiot, lying here in the bed. Whatever Sean had put on his shoulder was already working, the throb reduced to a painful ache. But as long as the door was closed, there wasn't much to do anyway but sleep or think. Sleeping was much better than thinking.
The last few days made sense, now. He wasn't a prisoner, he was a slave. Some kind of fighting slave, apparently. He thought back over how well they had been fed, the quality of their housing, the amount of freedom the others were allowed, and he guessed that they must be very valuable slaves and possibly willing. What was he going to do?
Again, Sean left the bedside and returned. This time the cool touch on his back was slick, and the fragrance was floral. Viggo almost flinched away from it. What was it with this place and oil? The fact that every day he had been here Sean had found some reason to touch him with oiled hands was enough to have him think, for the hundredth time, that this was some sort of extended hallucination - a cross between a wet dream and a nightmare - and that he was going to wake up in the morning with a tear-damp pillow and sticky sheets. But the ache in his shoulder still throbbed. That had been too real for a dream.
Sean pressed and kneaded Viggo's muscles as efficiently as he'd oiled and scraped him in the bath. It was amazing. He needed it desperately after two long days of hard training. Viggo relaxed forward into the cushions supporting him, trusting them to hide any embarrassing reaction to Sean's touch.
As he worked Viggo's muscles with strong hands, Sean began to chant, quietly, barely more than a whisper. Viggo tried to follow it. It had a sing-song rhythm that reminded Viggo of spoken histories and sagas, but he couldn't pick out any words yet. The murmur would have been soothing, Viggo thought, except that as he went on, Sean's hands were traveling lower on Viggo's body, first doing wonderful things for his lower back, then kneading and pressing hard into the muscles of his buttocks, then down over sore thighs and tight calves. Sean continued to chant. Viggo thought the verses were repeating. The sound of Sean's silk and honey voice, combined with the touch of his hands on Viggo's skin, had Viggo so hard he was aching. Even though Viggo knew what was going to happen. Even though he knew that Sean was going to roll him over to do the fronts of his legs, and the effects of Sean's touch would be evident for anyone to see. But he couldn't bring his tired, confused, and now lust-hazed brain into focus on any thought that would distract his cock.
Soon enough, Sean began to shift the bedding, gently tugging Viggo's cushion out of his arms and wedging it carefully against his back, urging Viggo to roll over. Viggo fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in embarrassment. He was an actor, after all. Instead he schooled his expression to relaxed and drowsy. He kept his eyes open long enough to give Sean what he hoped was an appreciative half-smile, before letting his lids fall closed and settling back into the bed with an contented sigh. Best damned performance of my life, Viggo thought, because he had seen Sean's eyes flicker down and the tiny smile that touched his moving lips. Viggo imagined that most people wouldn't have seen the look, it was so subtle. Sean's hands on the fronts of Viggo's thighs were as efficient as they had been everywhere else. It seemed that Sean lingered there, working those muscles even more thoroughly, but Viggo put that down to his own imagination and the way time seemed to stretch during the most humiliating and embarrassing scenes. He tried to focus on Sean's words instead of his hands.
Sean was finally finished. The chanting ended. The hands lifted off his body. Sean draped a light blanket over him then rustled around the room. Viggo rolled back onto his stomach and began to relax into the drowsy state he had been feigning. But then, oddly, he felt Sean on the bed again. He slipped under the blanket with him, and Viggo was startled to feel bare skin against his arm and side. He was even more startled when Sean wrapped himself around him, throwing a strong heavy thigh over Viggo's legs and carefully wrapping a long arm over Viggo's lower back. His face pressed into Viggo's good shoulder and Viggo was suddenly hyper-aware of something else, hard and hot, pressing against his hip. Then Sean was still and soon after his breathing evened out in sleep.
It was a long while before Viggo was ready to drowse again.
Chapter 4: Night Terrors
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 02:36 pm (UTC)I'm enchanted by the story, excited to see more, and ecstatic that you're writing it.
*mwah!*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 04:13 pm (UTC)Chapter 4
Date: 2005-03-15 04:21 pm (UTC)So glad you liked it!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 05:42 pm (UTC)Are the other chapters already written, and if so, why must you keep them from us? *pout*
The rest of it
Date: 2005-03-15 05:50 pm (UTC)The story is so long, I didn't want to open the early chapters until I was sure that later chapters weren't going to cause continuity issues.
Now that I've got the plot solidified, I am going back to the early material and knocking it into something readable.
I should be able to move along pretty quickly, though. I'll try not to torment you too much! So glad you're liking it!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 06:30 pm (UTC)This is so sensual, I'm going to explode before Sean and Viggo do!
Um
Date: 2005-03-15 06:35 pm (UTC)*eyedart* Possibly. Much sooner. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 08:13 pm (UTC)Very trilling; there are not as many good AUs featuring Sean and Viggo as I would like to be there. This one certainly is good-- so far! (grins)
BTW What do I have to do to be able to read the next chapter? I was shocked to see I got no access.
Keep going please!
Ack! No access!
Date: 2005-03-15 08:20 pm (UTC)The closed material is in the process of being edited for public consumption. I plan of it to be open no later than Thursday morning, 8am EST. I will announce on
Glad you are liking it! :)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 04:05 am (UTC)*waits patiently for more*
Adrienne
no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 12:52 pm (UTC)Oops
Date: 2005-03-16 12:56 pm (UTC)If you are interested, Night Terrors REALLY IS unlocked now...
Glad you liked it! :)
Re: Oops
Date: 2005-03-16 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-17 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-26 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 09:22 pm (UTC)