![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brainofckTitle/Chapter: Sword Practice, Part II
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: PG-13
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 interested, 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
Arena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
Initiate
Blood Wash
Sword Practice, Part I
Every time Viggo thought he had come to terms with the reality of being an object - something owned for another's use - he would learn something new and realize that he was never ready for the shock around the next corner.
Before throwing them in the fire at last, Viggo had studied Micon's drawings of Sean for days, trying to learn all he could about his friend. So he had thought he was prepared to walk into the bedchamber of a pleasure slave. But art is not reality, and Viggo had to stop a moment inside the door to try to understand it all.
A warm comfortable room. Spacious. With a table and chairs for eating. Upholstered couches. A small, hot hearth. A huge, carved bed.
The overly small windows, barred.
Aside from those windows, the room was appointed nearly as luxuriously as the rooms where they had met Laurel downstairs. Dark and rich where her rooms were light and airy. But places of comfort unlike anything Viggo had seen in this world.
Sean was waiting for him, bound naked and kneeling on the floor.
The steward had asked how Viggo preferred that Sean be bound. Viggo protested, but the man insisted that Sean couldn't be trusted. So Viggo had asked that they make it as easy as possible for Viggo to let him loose, and asked that they do the best they could to not bind Sean for sex. The steward had been unimpressed by these instructions, but then, Viggo had dragged the man out of bed and turned his household upside down, so really Viggo could hardly blame him.
Now, seeing his friend, Viggo was almost afraid to go forward with his plan. Sean would be shamed to be seen like this. Or maybe Viggo was shamed, seeing Sean like this. Already, his body was reacting with a lust that Viggo had been able to control around Sean for years, now. But he was out of practice, and Sean naked, with those damned cuffs and bands...
Viggo tried to shake off the feeling. The best thing to do was to get them both out of this room.
He walked around in front of his friend and laid the practice sword on the floor. "I've brought you a better gift," he said quietly.
Sean sat back quickly on his heels, and Viggo looked into his friend's face for the first time in so long. The shock there didn't go away when Sean recognized the practice blade on the floor.
When Sean didn't do anything but stare at him, Viggo started to doubt again. He walked around behind his friend and knelt to untie his hands. The knots had been done so that Sean could have freed himself. Viggo supposed that Sean hadn't noticed. He nudged Sean on the shoulder. "Let me get to your feet," he said. Sean rocked up onto his hands and knees and then he was free. Viggo stood quickly. He wasn't suicidal. If Sean was going to try to kill him, he wanted to be on his feet to defend himself.
Sean stayed on the floor a long moment, staring at the dull weapon on the stone, then looking up at Viggo in confusion. Then he was suddenly on his feet, laughing, and Viggo was crushed helplessly in an exuberant embrace.
Finally, Sean pushed him away, holding Viggo by the shoulders, beaming in delight.
"Look at you! What are you doing here?! How did you get them to let you in with a sword?" He paused for breath and realized that Viggo wore his own weapon on his back. "Two swords?" Sean shouted. Then laughed again. He turned away, leaving Viggo a bit unsteady and disoriented. Sean scooped up the practice weapon from the floor and faced Viggo across the blade, his grin completely maniacal.
Viggo swept his weapon out of the shabby sheath on his back almost by reflex, though he found he was laughing so hard he probably wouldn't be able to fend off an attack by the old lady who sold him peaches in the market.
"NO!" Viggo laughed, "Not here! They've set something up for us on the grounds!" But Sean leaped at him and Viggo parried as they danced around the room, swords ringing, the scuffle of Viggo's booted feet loud on the stone floors.
"No! Come on!" Viggo protested again. "Get dressed and we'll go out where we can do this properly!"
Sean broke of his attack and went to a chest in the corner.
"Wait," Viggo said. Sean turned and Viggo pointed to the bundle he had dropped just inside the door. Sean went over and opened the simple bag to find clothes. Viggo's clothes. Long leather pants. A loose shirt. Leather vest. Boots. Good clothes to fend off the dull heavy blades. All well worn and perfect for practice. When Sean turned to look at Viggo again, the amazement was back.
"How did you manage this?" He asked, repeating his first question.
Viggo shrugged. "Sennet wanted to give me a special gift. I asked for 24 hours of your valuable time."
Sean just stared at him. "I don't know exactly what people pay for my time here," he said slowly, "but I think you've probably passed up on a small fortune in silver." Suddenly he was grinning again, pulling the clothes over his bare limbs, hiding the bands that denoted his servitude. When he stood again and took up the practice sword, he very nearly renewed his attack. Viggo saw it coming, and stepped in close, gripping Sean's right wrist firmly.
"Save it! You'll need all you've got to fight me, and they've set up something much better for us outside." Viggo went and opened the door for him. With a sly little smile, Sean stepped out into the hall.
Their walk through the house seemed to delight Sean. Every single guard did a double-take, then watched Sean him warily as he passed by them, many even going to far as to lay their hands on their sword hilts. Viggo imagined many of them had good reason to be afraid. But Sean just smiled a particularly cruel little smile and let Viggo lead him out a side door.
The Laurel had a large stable on the grounds, to care for the animals of the patrons, as well as to house Laurel's own stock. A paddock behind had been held for them. The sand was soft and well raked for the horses, completely clear of rocks and other debris. The perfect place for sparring. A small crowd had gathered, and to their surprise, the mistress stood amongst her men-at-arms and stable hands, chatting quietly like the gracious hostess at an elegant evening soiree.
Sean chuckled. "Some of them are about to get the fright of their lives," he muttered to Viggo out of the side of his mouth. Viggo laughed, and now found himself following Sean, who quickened his step, suddenly in an even bigger hurry to start, it seemed.
Sean stopped before his mistress and bowed to her deeply, in the manner of a slave entering the arena, then ducked under the slats of the fence and waited for Viggo. Viggo also bowed to her, and followed his friend inside.
They knew each other well enough to dispense with the usual, cautious dodging and weaving that strangers used to appraise each other's skill in a first duel. Sean's first attack was blistering and savage. He drove Viggo back across the paddock, until Viggo dodged and twisted, finally stepping in behind Sean's attack and shoving his friend to the ground. Sean's laughter as he leapt back to his feet was infections and Viggo found himself cackling in response, ready now for the next attack, and moving to defend himself properly.
Viggo was surprised to find that Sean had become a different swordsman since they had last practiced together. Clearly, Sean's life in this place had taken a toll. He was already breathing too hard, and Viggo was sure that Sean was finding the practice sword surprisingly heavy. But even after only a few minutes in the paddock with him, it was clear to Viggo that Sean's strategies of attack and his footwork were remarkably different, and much harder to defend. Viggo was reminded of his other life, back in Wellington, when he had first begun to learn these things with Bob.
"What have you been doing?!" Viggo gasped, as Sean got in a particularly artful thrust, followed by a series of lunges that had Viggo moving back again.
Sean knew exactly what Viggo was asking. He looked smug and said nothing. Viggo laughed, and they fought like two men possessed.
Laurel watched the two men fight, and remembered how amazing they had been in the arena. She had gone more often a few years ago, and the two Outlanders, as they were often called, had been one reason to go. She had been there for their last fight, in fact.
But it was clear from the reactions of her men-at-arms that most of them had not ever seen the two warriors fight, and there were murmurs of amazement and approval around the group. It did not go unremarked that Sean could leap into a fight like this, not having held a blade in over a year. Aulus, the chief of her household guard stood by her.
"You're wasting his skills, you know, keeping him as a whore and not a swordsman," Aulus said quietly.
She shook her head. "For a night in his bed, a patron pays enough silver for me to pay my personal bodyguard for a week," she replied. "I run a pleasure house, and I assure you, I am not wasting his talents."
But she watched Sean thoughtfully as the two men laughed and tested each other.
"At the very least, I would like you to consider letting him train with the men of the household guard. The benefit of his experience would give you one of the best trained personal armies in the city."
She laughed at that. "How many of them would he kill before he was done?" she asked pointedly.
Aulus shrugged. "If he would teach and you would allow it, I would happily dismiss every guard who ever insulted him."
Laurel continued to watch the fighters. But Aulus knew her too well. She wasn't seeing them anymore. She was running through the possibilities.
Suddenly she turned to go back up to the house. She caught the Steward's attention.
"Have clear water brought to them here, but when they are done, send them up to Sean's quarters to eat. Make sure the bath is free and there is plenty of hot water for them if they want to use it on the way up. I'll supervise their luncheon myself." And she swept away into the house.
Water and Oil, Reprise
Author:
muck_a_luck, posting in brainofckPairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: PG-13
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 interested, 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 meArena
Water and Oil
Flesh and Iron
Night Terrors
First
Opening
Closing
Last
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part I
The Mysteries of the Next Life, Part II
Initiate
Blood Wash
Sword Practice, Part I
Every time Viggo thought he had come to terms with the reality of being an object - something owned for another's use - he would learn something new and realize that he was never ready for the shock around the next corner.
Before throwing them in the fire at last, Viggo had studied Micon's drawings of Sean for days, trying to learn all he could about his friend. So he had thought he was prepared to walk into the bedchamber of a pleasure slave. But art is not reality, and Viggo had to stop a moment inside the door to try to understand it all.
A warm comfortable room. Spacious. With a table and chairs for eating. Upholstered couches. A small, hot hearth. A huge, carved bed.
The overly small windows, barred.
Aside from those windows, the room was appointed nearly as luxuriously as the rooms where they had met Laurel downstairs. Dark and rich where her rooms were light and airy. But places of comfort unlike anything Viggo had seen in this world.
Sean was waiting for him, bound naked and kneeling on the floor.
The steward had asked how Viggo preferred that Sean be bound. Viggo protested, but the man insisted that Sean couldn't be trusted. So Viggo had asked that they make it as easy as possible for Viggo to let him loose, and asked that they do the best they could to not bind Sean for sex. The steward had been unimpressed by these instructions, but then, Viggo had dragged the man out of bed and turned his household upside down, so really Viggo could hardly blame him.
Now, seeing his friend, Viggo was almost afraid to go forward with his plan. Sean would be shamed to be seen like this. Or maybe Viggo was shamed, seeing Sean like this. Already, his body was reacting with a lust that Viggo had been able to control around Sean for years, now. But he was out of practice, and Sean naked, with those damned cuffs and bands...
Viggo tried to shake off the feeling. The best thing to do was to get them both out of this room.
He walked around in front of his friend and laid the practice sword on the floor. "I've brought you a better gift," he said quietly.
Sean sat back quickly on his heels, and Viggo looked into his friend's face for the first time in so long. The shock there didn't go away when Sean recognized the practice blade on the floor.
When Sean didn't do anything but stare at him, Viggo started to doubt again. He walked around behind his friend and knelt to untie his hands. The knots had been done so that Sean could have freed himself. Viggo supposed that Sean hadn't noticed. He nudged Sean on the shoulder. "Let me get to your feet," he said. Sean rocked up onto his hands and knees and then he was free. Viggo stood quickly. He wasn't suicidal. If Sean was going to try to kill him, he wanted to be on his feet to defend himself.
Sean stayed on the floor a long moment, staring at the dull weapon on the stone, then looking up at Viggo in confusion. Then he was suddenly on his feet, laughing, and Viggo was crushed helplessly in an exuberant embrace.
Finally, Sean pushed him away, holding Viggo by the shoulders, beaming in delight.
"Look at you! What are you doing here?! How did you get them to let you in with a sword?" He paused for breath and realized that Viggo wore his own weapon on his back. "Two swords?" Sean shouted. Then laughed again. He turned away, leaving Viggo a bit unsteady and disoriented. Sean scooped up the practice weapon from the floor and faced Viggo across the blade, his grin completely maniacal.
Viggo swept his weapon out of the shabby sheath on his back almost by reflex, though he found he was laughing so hard he probably wouldn't be able to fend off an attack by the old lady who sold him peaches in the market.
"NO!" Viggo laughed, "Not here! They've set something up for us on the grounds!" But Sean leaped at him and Viggo parried as they danced around the room, swords ringing, the scuffle of Viggo's booted feet loud on the stone floors.
"No! Come on!" Viggo protested again. "Get dressed and we'll go out where we can do this properly!"
Sean broke of his attack and went to a chest in the corner.
"Wait," Viggo said. Sean turned and Viggo pointed to the bundle he had dropped just inside the door. Sean went over and opened the simple bag to find clothes. Viggo's clothes. Long leather pants. A loose shirt. Leather vest. Boots. Good clothes to fend off the dull heavy blades. All well worn and perfect for practice. When Sean turned to look at Viggo again, the amazement was back.
"How did you manage this?" He asked, repeating his first question.
Viggo shrugged. "Sennet wanted to give me a special gift. I asked for 24 hours of your valuable time."
Sean just stared at him. "I don't know exactly what people pay for my time here," he said slowly, "but I think you've probably passed up on a small fortune in silver." Suddenly he was grinning again, pulling the clothes over his bare limbs, hiding the bands that denoted his servitude. When he stood again and took up the practice sword, he very nearly renewed his attack. Viggo saw it coming, and stepped in close, gripping Sean's right wrist firmly.
"Save it! You'll need all you've got to fight me, and they've set up something much better for us outside." Viggo went and opened the door for him. With a sly little smile, Sean stepped out into the hall.
Their walk through the house seemed to delight Sean. Every single guard did a double-take, then watched Sean him warily as he passed by them, many even going to far as to lay their hands on their sword hilts. Viggo imagined many of them had good reason to be afraid. But Sean just smiled a particularly cruel little smile and let Viggo lead him out a side door.
The Laurel had a large stable on the grounds, to care for the animals of the patrons, as well as to house Laurel's own stock. A paddock behind had been held for them. The sand was soft and well raked for the horses, completely clear of rocks and other debris. The perfect place for sparring. A small crowd had gathered, and to their surprise, the mistress stood amongst her men-at-arms and stable hands, chatting quietly like the gracious hostess at an elegant evening soiree.
Sean chuckled. "Some of them are about to get the fright of their lives," he muttered to Viggo out of the side of his mouth. Viggo laughed, and now found himself following Sean, who quickened his step, suddenly in an even bigger hurry to start, it seemed.
Sean stopped before his mistress and bowed to her deeply, in the manner of a slave entering the arena, then ducked under the slats of the fence and waited for Viggo. Viggo also bowed to her, and followed his friend inside.
They knew each other well enough to dispense with the usual, cautious dodging and weaving that strangers used to appraise each other's skill in a first duel. Sean's first attack was blistering and savage. He drove Viggo back across the paddock, until Viggo dodged and twisted, finally stepping in behind Sean's attack and shoving his friend to the ground. Sean's laughter as he leapt back to his feet was infections and Viggo found himself cackling in response, ready now for the next attack, and moving to defend himself properly.
Viggo was surprised to find that Sean had become a different swordsman since they had last practiced together. Clearly, Sean's life in this place had taken a toll. He was already breathing too hard, and Viggo was sure that Sean was finding the practice sword surprisingly heavy. But even after only a few minutes in the paddock with him, it was clear to Viggo that Sean's strategies of attack and his footwork were remarkably different, and much harder to defend. Viggo was reminded of his other life, back in Wellington, when he had first begun to learn these things with Bob.
"What have you been doing?!" Viggo gasped, as Sean got in a particularly artful thrust, followed by a series of lunges that had Viggo moving back again.
Sean knew exactly what Viggo was asking. He looked smug and said nothing. Viggo laughed, and they fought like two men possessed.
Laurel watched the two men fight, and remembered how amazing they had been in the arena. She had gone more often a few years ago, and the two Outlanders, as they were often called, had been one reason to go. She had been there for their last fight, in fact.
But it was clear from the reactions of her men-at-arms that most of them had not ever seen the two warriors fight, and there were murmurs of amazement and approval around the group. It did not go unremarked that Sean could leap into a fight like this, not having held a blade in over a year. Aulus, the chief of her household guard stood by her.
"You're wasting his skills, you know, keeping him as a whore and not a swordsman," Aulus said quietly.
She shook her head. "For a night in his bed, a patron pays enough silver for me to pay my personal bodyguard for a week," she replied. "I run a pleasure house, and I assure you, I am not wasting his talents."
But she watched Sean thoughtfully as the two men laughed and tested each other.
"At the very least, I would like you to consider letting him train with the men of the household guard. The benefit of his experience would give you one of the best trained personal armies in the city."
She laughed at that. "How many of them would he kill before he was done?" she asked pointedly.
Aulus shrugged. "If he would teach and you would allow it, I would happily dismiss every guard who ever insulted him."
Laurel continued to watch the fighters. But Aulus knew her too well. She wasn't seeing them anymore. She was running through the possibilities.
Suddenly she turned to go back up to the house. She caught the Steward's attention.
"Have clear water brought to them here, but when they are done, send them up to Sean's quarters to eat. Make sure the bath is free and there is plenty of hot water for them if they want to use it on the way up. I'll supervise their luncheon myself." And she swept away into the house.
Water and Oil, Reprise
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-03-25 02:09 pm (UTC)Lack of self-control...
Date: 2005-03-25 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-25 03:11 pm (UTC)Please let them escape soon! And let Sean have his revenge. Come on, sweetheart...Pretty please? *puppy dog eyes*
[Great chapters as always, darling! Great! *blows kisses*]
Hmmmm. Caffiene anyone?
Date: 2005-03-25 03:14 pm (UTC)Puppy eyes get you nowhere! I am evil, bad woman and I eat puppies for breakfast! *snickers*
There will be no escape!!! Ha! I have violated my own "no spoliers" policy. *cackles evilly*
Um. Perhaps should cut back on the Mt. Dew... ;)
Re: Hmmmm. Caffiene anyone?
Date: 2005-03-25 03:48 pm (UTC)Damn! How about a cat then? *tries for a sweet kitten look*
There will be no escape!!! Ha! I have violated my own "no spoliers" policy. *cackles evilly*
NOOOO!
Um. Perhaps should cut back on the Mt. Dew... ;)
*lol*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-25 06:07 pm (UTC)Thanks!
Date: 2005-03-25 07:01 pm (UTC)how they're not having sex ... when? when?
*snickers*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-26 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-26 01:19 pm (UTC)By far your best work to date. Nice pacing, the one thing I can never master.
one tiny flaw: "pulling the clothes over his bear limbs" -- Sean's not furry!
So how many chapters is this in full?
Hey!
Date: 2005-03-26 01:27 pm (UTC)I'd say there's probably at least as much left as I've already written. The SB/VM pairing continues throughout, but there are other pairings coming. And if I write it all, I might be a little less than half-way done and I don't know how to end it.
However, how much sees the light of day remains to be seen. I'm deathly afraid of bad!fic and some of the later stuff seems to me to be the worst kind. But I might feel better about it after I write it. Plus, writing seems to help me pull the bad!fic ideas together and turn them into something readable... We'll see.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-22 12:53 am (UTC)