Vagrant Story: All Hallow's Eve, R
Sunday, October 30th, 2005 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsaikoI was going to wait till tomorrow to post this, but then realized I'm going to be in class. Sigh. No Halloween for me. Therefore you get this a day early. I wrote this last year for a zine. I'm going to include it in the update of my site (which will hopefully be tonight). You guys get first dibs.
Ashley Riot would have no sense of time if it were not for the irrevocable changing of the seasons. As if the bite in the air and the harvested fields were not clue enough, there was the woods themselves. Most of the trees were dark green pine and silver fir, eternally green. It was the patches of crimson, pumpkin, and gold that betrayed the autumn season.
If I go much farther south, I'll need to find a place to winter. I have no wish to be on the road when the snows start. One winter fighting snow and sleet was enough.
He had seen a map of the country when he first came into port. It had been hanging on the wall above the port master's desk. Allemagne was odd in that the farther south you went, the closer to the mountains you got and the colder the weather became. Along the northern coastlines it had been summer-like despite the fact that it had been well into autumn.
Now Ashley woke up to find the leaf litter covered in frost, bitter fog weaving between the trees, and the wolves of winter howling in the distance. The days of false summer had long since given way to the changing seasons.
He had entered the Dark Forest over three weeks ago. Villages were few and far between: little more than hamlets carved out of the encroaching forest through sheer stubbornness. They were all wooden houses with fanciful carvings. Each village was protected from the wandering Dark and wandering wolves by stonewalls. The fields were small and surrounded the villages, holding back the woods by aid of the plow.
The villagers themselves were distrustful of strangers, wary of anyone who would brave the narrow winding trails of the Dark Forest for whatever reason. They asked few questions. They gave few answers. For Ashley, still on the run from Parliament and the Church two years after Leá Monde, it was the perfect hiding place.
It had been almost four days since he'd last seen a house. That had been a single dwelling long abandoned, its fields choked with weeds and vines. It had been over a week since he'd seen an inhabited house. The sun was in the process of setting. If Ashley didn't find a village soon, he was going to be spending another night in the woods.
Not that I have much to fear in these woods. The Dark runs thick here, and the rood on my back protects me from it. Even as he thought that, the sounds of a wolf howling in the distance caught his attention. If the Dark has warped the wolves like it has warped other things in these woods, I can look forward to them licking my hand like hunting hounds.
He had almost cut one wolf in half the first time that had happened. Leá Monde left him jumpy about things such as dark twisted wolves running towards him. It didn't help that he sometimes forgot the rood he carried on his back protected him from all but the most mundane of evils.
And every time I think about the damned mark, I can feel it crawling between my shoulder blades. There are times I wish Sydney was still around. I would carve the damn thing off my own back and give it to him just to be done with it.
False twilight fell under the towering trees. Should I keep walking and hope I stumble across a village or should I stop and make camp? Ashley was going to have to make a decision soon. If he waited much longer there would be no light to see by.
He had just taken off his pack when he heard the tolling of church bells. Ashley's head came up at the sound. It's just sunset. That's no reason to ring the bells as if the demons of Dark were at your doorstep. Not unless a festival day that had snuck up on him. As many days as Ashley spent on the road, it wouldn't be the first time.
Shrugging on his pack, Ashley continued on the small deer trail that he'd been following. Lucky for him, it headed towards the sound. True night fell. The bells stopped ringing. In their place came the sound of muted laughter and strains of music. The sounds led him on.
Didn't someone tell me that villagers often used noise to scare away the Dark? Ashley tried to put a face with the knowledge, but failed. His memory still had more holes than a sieve. All this noise is more likely to attract something's notice. Not scare it away.
Between the trunks of the trees Ashley could see lanterns fighting back the darkness. A village blazed with light, the gates thrown open to the darkness, unconcerned about what lurked in the shadows. Large wooden tables laden with food dotted the lighted area in front of the town. Villagers moved from one table to the next, congregating in groups or dancing to the sounds of fiddles, drums, and horns.
As Ashley drew closer-- will these people take offense at a stranger wandering into the midst of their celebration?-- he noticed the masks. Karnival masks, shaped from leather or carved from wood, decorated with beads, feathers, paint, and metal work. He froze, watching as the world of Leá Monde was reflected back at him through a warped mirror.
Here a fat merchant with a leather mask dressed to resemble the earth spirit Dao spoke with a slimmer woman with a passing resemblance to Marid. Over near the farthest table, a village youth that resembled Haeralis the Brave flirted with a maiden that looked like the water nymph Nimje. Beside the kegs, stood the great necromancer Edgar. On one corner of the dance floor, a dullahan danced with a slyph. Someone had even gone so far as to put spiked collars around a guard dog's neck to make it resemble a Hellhound.
The Dark responded to Ashley's unease, crawling along the black lines etched into his skin. Stop that.
Should I stay or should I leave before someone takes offense at my intrusion? The decision was taken out of his hands before he could make it.
"Welcome stranger!" Ashley's first instinct was to step back into the shadows, to wrap the Dark around himself and disappear into the night, as the balding man approached. Instead, he forced himself to step forward. "My name is Gerard Berne, Mayor of Harz. What brings you to our village on the eve before All Saint's day?"
If tomorrow is All Saint's Day, then tonight is Allhallowmas. All Hallow's Eve. The night the dead walk. "I didn't realize what day it was. I've been on the road for awhile."
"Did you come in through the Dark Forest?" Ashley nodded. "You picked a poor way to travel my friend. The Dark flows and pools in these woods. It's only by the strength of St. Iocus that we are able to keep the forest at bay."
"But not tonight," Gerard said, dismissing St. Iocus with a wave of his hand. "Tonight we remember the old ways, the ways of the Dark. Come and celebrate with us."
"I couldn't..." Ashley started but the Mayor stopped him.
"I insist. We insist. We'll have wolves at our door all winter if we turn away a stranger this night." Then Gerard dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "The dead may walk among the living tonight. You never know when a stranger is just a stranger, or a spirit in disguise. Everyone in my town will sleep easier if you accept our hospitality."
"Where can I put my pack?" Ashley asked. It's too late after sunset for me to find another place to camp.
"I'll show you. You can stow your gear in my house and then help yourself to the food. The party lasts until sunrise. Feel free to enjoy our hospitality!" The mayor opened his arms wide and the villagers cheered. Ashley hid a wince as he suddenly became the center of attention.
"Thank you."
-----
There was plenty of wine at the party, but Ashley had none. He'd approached the table full of bottles, had glanced at one of the labels. For one moment, Ashley saw the words "Leá Monde." Chills went down his spine. Then he'd blinked and the label had read some other winery, leaving Ashley to wonder about an over active imagination.
If he didn't know better, Ashley would swear the Dark was laughing at him.
It wouldn't make sense for some little provincial village to have a bottle wine from Leá Monde. It's too valuable and rare a vintage for anyone here to afford.Rationalization aside, the incident left Ashley without a taste for the drink. He settled instead on the strong, dark beer that was in abundance at the celebration.
The food was a variety of sausages and roasts with onions, cabbage and late season apples in the dishes. Dark bread sat in baskets around the table. The plates were simple and wooden. Ashley watched as revelers would approach the table, fill up a plate with food, and grab a tankard of beer before finding a quiet spot to eat. He soon followed suit.
Appetite satisfied Ashley wandered. The area designated as a dance floor held little appeal for him. Ashley didn't know if he could dance and the middle of a crowded festival was not the place to find out. There was more dancing and partying going on in the village, but the company there didn't appeal to him either. Giggles and stifled moans from the edge of one of the hay fields let him know what that was area was being used for.
He was exploring the edge of the woods when movement overhead made him freeze. Heart racing, Ashley's hand was halfway to a crossbow that wasn't there before he realized the bats below the trees were carved from wood and hanging from bright colored ribbons. Not real. This is not Leá Monde.
Ashley decided that he needed another tankard of beer.
Now, as the bells of the church rang to announce midnight, Ashley was regretting that impulse. His senses swam with the effects of alcohol, and the beginnings of a hangover thudded through the base of his skull. I haven't indulged this much since... a vague notion that he should remember crawled across his thoughts ...in a long time.
"Can't hold your liquor?"
The voice held the cultured tones of a noble, not the coarse sounds of the villagers. It took Ashley a few seconds to realize that the words were not in the native language of Allemagne, but spoken in his own tongue. Valendian. He turned his head to see Edgar, the necromancer, standing beside him.
Not Edgar. The great necromancer would never wear a mask or even a half mask, to hide his identity. By all accounts, he was too vain for that. Just someone dressed like him. The dead aren't walking tonight, and even if they were, there's no reason they'd be speaking to you. "You speak Valendian?"
"I am a traveler like yourself. I've been in the village for about a week. Long enough for me to throw this costume together in honor of this celebration." The man dressed as Edgar gestured with hands wide, indicating the outfit he wore. Strangely, the gesture reminded Ashley of Sydney spreading his claws. "What brings you to Harz?"
The question raised every warning flag Ashley had, but the Dark was strangely quiet. Why do you care? "Work. I'm a traveling blacksmith. I go from village to village completing the odd job. Usually I try for places too small to have their own blacksmith."
"A blacksmith." Ashley couldn't be sure, but he thought that the man standing beside him was amused. "It figures."
"Do I know you?" Ashley asked. At that moment the world tilted again. Strong hands caught him and held him up. When the disorientation passed, Ashley found himself with his face pressed into warm, blonde hair. He tried to move away, something akin to embarrassment heating his cheeks, but steely hand kept him where he was.
"Don't be a prude. Let's get you lying down before you fall down." By leaning his weight on the smaller man, Ashley somehow made it to where they were going. It was only once he was lying down that Ashley realized that they were in the hay field. A protest died on his lips and the slighter man settled himself on top of him. "This is better."
"What are you doing?" Ashley demanded as clever hands undid buttons. I should stop this. Why am I not stopping this? The other man's hands were metal cold against his skin.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking advantage." The smile was a quick flash in the dark, but Ashley saw it nonetheless. "Unless you want me to stop?"
There was the briefest of hesitations. I want this. I don't know why, but I do. "No. Go ahead."
It was all the encouragement that was needed.
Ashley didn't know how he wound up losing his shirt, could not remember the brief struggle that always ensued when trying to remove clothing in a compromising position. All Ashley knew was that between one moment and the next there was nothing but skin under the other man's hands. Seconds later, the other man's pants followed his shirt.
His own pants were more trouble. Ashley cursed and fumbled with the laces while his companion held back laughter. The hay was prickly against his backside as he shucked them off. Warm skin soon distracted him from the small discomfort.
The hips beneath Ashley's hands were leaner and narrower than his own, the skin soft and unblemished where his carried scars. The other man still had his mask on. Ashley found that more irritating that he should have. Still, with his pale skin and blonde hair, Ashley found that he could easily convince himself that the person touching lips to his neck was the one person from his past he could never forget.
Sydney...
His hand in the other man's hair was gentle as Ashley tilted his face upwards. He wasn't expecting the tongue is his mouth or the way his hip pressed upwards in response. I'm going to leave bruises if this keeps up. Ashley forced himself to loosen his grip.
He couldn't find the words so he tried to slow the encounter with actions: slow strokes of his hand, gentle kisses, worrying his companion's earlobe with his teeth. The other man would have none of it. For every attempt Ashley made at slowing things down, the other countered with a move that made his want to thrust.
Too fast. Ashley didn't seem to be able to stop himself from rocking up against the man above him. His companion didn't seem to mind until he tried to press himself down upon Ashley's erection. It only took Ashley a split second to realize that without lubricant, without any sort of preparation at all, the slighter man was going to hurt himself.
Not to mention me. A dry entry is never easy.
"Stop." His companion froze, eyes wide and breathing ragged.
"Stop?" The word was gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "You want me to stop?" Each word was carefully spaced, as if the other man was doing his best not to reach out and throttle Ashley.
"Yes. Hand me my pants."
"If you think I have waited this long to get you beneath me just to have you stop in the middle, you are sadly mistaken Riskbreaker." The last word was hissed out as he pushed down. Ashley grabbed hold of his hips, keeping his companion from moving.
Patience. His own temper was frayed at the idea that anyone would hurt themselves like this. Ashley sucked in a breath, and let it out. "If you will look in the pocket of my pants, you will find a small iron container. It has some cream that will make things easier."
"And you just happen to have this on your person?" Ashley couldn't interpret the emphasis on the word, but he knew that the man above him was not happy.
"I'm a blacksmith. Working the forge is rough on my hands. It's hard to do detailed metalwork when your fingers are cracked and bleeding." Ashley explained. Then he took the decision out of the other's hands, rolling the smaller man beneath him.
"What are you doing?"
"What I should have done earlier." A brief search with his hand in the darkness produced his pants. It took mere seconds for him to find the container. He opened it in the dark, coating his fingers with the ointment before reaching between Sydney's legs and pressing there.
The other man hissed at first, nerves still abused from earlier. Gradually he relaxed against Ashley's touch. It was only when Sydney was moving against him, all hints of pain gone from his movements, that Ashley decided to finish what they had started. He bit back a curse when his own hand, slick from additional ointment, touched his erection. Ashley pushed Sydney's legs up. His fingers fumbled against the other man's skin, slippery still, as he grabbed hold and pushed.
Even with his preparations Sydney was tight. I won't hurt him. I won't. I can stop if I need to. Ashley almost gave it up as a lost cause before he felt muscles suddenly yield. The head went past tight muscles, soon followed by the rest. He held himself still.
"Any time, Riskbreaker."
It was all the encouragement Ashley needed. He thrust forward, shallow at first but growing harder as he lost control. Sydney's hips trust up to meet his strokes. Sweat soaked both their skins.
"Gods... Sydney..." The scent of the other man filled his nose. His hair stuck against his forehead, got in his eyes, but Ashley didn't have a hand free to push it out of the way. One was bracing him above the smaller man. The other was wrapped around Sydney, pushing the other man towards his own release. "Sydney."
Sydney's release caught Ashley's off guard. Muscles clenched around him as warmth coated his hand. He groaned, biting his lips to try and quiet the sound. His hips kept thrusting, his face buried against the other man's throat, as he chased his own pleasure. Claws raked his back.
The world narrowed to the man beneath him as Ashley came.
---
Ashley woke to sunlight on his face and hay against sensitive parts. He rolled, shielding his eyes, and reaching out for his pants and Sydney with the other. He found his pants but his other hand encountered air. Sydney was gone. If he even existed. Ghosts walk on All Hallow's Eve. And I somehow doubt the real Sydney would let me roll him in the hay. He is... was too polished for that.
He wrinkled his nose against the stickiness, pulling on his pants and promising himself a wash in the nearest river. Ashley stretched, but didn't feel any wounds on his back. Proof that I need to find company in bed more often.
Something on the ground caught his eye. There, in the grass, lay a single earring. Black hematite with a single diamond set into steel. Possessed by a demon-wight, worn by the great necromancer Edgar.
The last time Ashley had seen them had been in the depths of Leá Monde. There was only one pair in existence. He could feel the darkness in them from here, knew it was the real thing. There was only one way they could wind up here, in the middle of a country hundred of miles from the ruins of the city of Müllenkamp.
Sydney.
Ashley Riot would have no sense of time if it were not for the irrevocable changing of the seasons. As if the bite in the air and the harvested fields were not clue enough, there was the woods themselves. Most of the trees were dark green pine and silver fir, eternally green. It was the patches of crimson, pumpkin, and gold that betrayed the autumn season.
If I go much farther south, I'll need to find a place to winter. I have no wish to be on the road when the snows start. One winter fighting snow and sleet was enough.
He had seen a map of the country when he first came into port. It had been hanging on the wall above the port master's desk. Allemagne was odd in that the farther south you went, the closer to the mountains you got and the colder the weather became. Along the northern coastlines it had been summer-like despite the fact that it had been well into autumn.
Now Ashley woke up to find the leaf litter covered in frost, bitter fog weaving between the trees, and the wolves of winter howling in the distance. The days of false summer had long since given way to the changing seasons.
He had entered the Dark Forest over three weeks ago. Villages were few and far between: little more than hamlets carved out of the encroaching forest through sheer stubbornness. They were all wooden houses with fanciful carvings. Each village was protected from the wandering Dark and wandering wolves by stonewalls. The fields were small and surrounded the villages, holding back the woods by aid of the plow.
The villagers themselves were distrustful of strangers, wary of anyone who would brave the narrow winding trails of the Dark Forest for whatever reason. They asked few questions. They gave few answers. For Ashley, still on the run from Parliament and the Church two years after Leá Monde, it was the perfect hiding place.
It had been almost four days since he'd last seen a house. That had been a single dwelling long abandoned, its fields choked with weeds and vines. It had been over a week since he'd seen an inhabited house. The sun was in the process of setting. If Ashley didn't find a village soon, he was going to be spending another night in the woods.
Not that I have much to fear in these woods. The Dark runs thick here, and the rood on my back protects me from it. Even as he thought that, the sounds of a wolf howling in the distance caught his attention. If the Dark has warped the wolves like it has warped other things in these woods, I can look forward to them licking my hand like hunting hounds.
He had almost cut one wolf in half the first time that had happened. Leá Monde left him jumpy about things such as dark twisted wolves running towards him. It didn't help that he sometimes forgot the rood he carried on his back protected him from all but the most mundane of evils.
And every time I think about the damned mark, I can feel it crawling between my shoulder blades. There are times I wish Sydney was still around. I would carve the damn thing off my own back and give it to him just to be done with it.
False twilight fell under the towering trees. Should I keep walking and hope I stumble across a village or should I stop and make camp? Ashley was going to have to make a decision soon. If he waited much longer there would be no light to see by.
He had just taken off his pack when he heard the tolling of church bells. Ashley's head came up at the sound. It's just sunset. That's no reason to ring the bells as if the demons of Dark were at your doorstep. Not unless a festival day that had snuck up on him. As many days as Ashley spent on the road, it wouldn't be the first time.
Shrugging on his pack, Ashley continued on the small deer trail that he'd been following. Lucky for him, it headed towards the sound. True night fell. The bells stopped ringing. In their place came the sound of muted laughter and strains of music. The sounds led him on.
Didn't someone tell me that villagers often used noise to scare away the Dark? Ashley tried to put a face with the knowledge, but failed. His memory still had more holes than a sieve. All this noise is more likely to attract something's notice. Not scare it away.
Between the trunks of the trees Ashley could see lanterns fighting back the darkness. A village blazed with light, the gates thrown open to the darkness, unconcerned about what lurked in the shadows. Large wooden tables laden with food dotted the lighted area in front of the town. Villagers moved from one table to the next, congregating in groups or dancing to the sounds of fiddles, drums, and horns.
As Ashley drew closer-- will these people take offense at a stranger wandering into the midst of their celebration?-- he noticed the masks. Karnival masks, shaped from leather or carved from wood, decorated with beads, feathers, paint, and metal work. He froze, watching as the world of Leá Monde was reflected back at him through a warped mirror.
Here a fat merchant with a leather mask dressed to resemble the earth spirit Dao spoke with a slimmer woman with a passing resemblance to Marid. Over near the farthest table, a village youth that resembled Haeralis the Brave flirted with a maiden that looked like the water nymph Nimje. Beside the kegs, stood the great necromancer Edgar. On one corner of the dance floor, a dullahan danced with a slyph. Someone had even gone so far as to put spiked collars around a guard dog's neck to make it resemble a Hellhound.
The Dark responded to Ashley's unease, crawling along the black lines etched into his skin. Stop that.
Should I stay or should I leave before someone takes offense at my intrusion? The decision was taken out of his hands before he could make it.
"Welcome stranger!" Ashley's first instinct was to step back into the shadows, to wrap the Dark around himself and disappear into the night, as the balding man approached. Instead, he forced himself to step forward. "My name is Gerard Berne, Mayor of Harz. What brings you to our village on the eve before All Saint's day?"
If tomorrow is All Saint's Day, then tonight is Allhallowmas. All Hallow's Eve. The night the dead walk. "I didn't realize what day it was. I've been on the road for awhile."
"Did you come in through the Dark Forest?" Ashley nodded. "You picked a poor way to travel my friend. The Dark flows and pools in these woods. It's only by the strength of St. Iocus that we are able to keep the forest at bay."
"But not tonight," Gerard said, dismissing St. Iocus with a wave of his hand. "Tonight we remember the old ways, the ways of the Dark. Come and celebrate with us."
"I couldn't..." Ashley started but the Mayor stopped him.
"I insist. We insist. We'll have wolves at our door all winter if we turn away a stranger this night." Then Gerard dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "The dead may walk among the living tonight. You never know when a stranger is just a stranger, or a spirit in disguise. Everyone in my town will sleep easier if you accept our hospitality."
"Where can I put my pack?" Ashley asked. It's too late after sunset for me to find another place to camp.
"I'll show you. You can stow your gear in my house and then help yourself to the food. The party lasts until sunrise. Feel free to enjoy our hospitality!" The mayor opened his arms wide and the villagers cheered. Ashley hid a wince as he suddenly became the center of attention.
"Thank you."
-----
There was plenty of wine at the party, but Ashley had none. He'd approached the table full of bottles, had glanced at one of the labels. For one moment, Ashley saw the words "Leá Monde." Chills went down his spine. Then he'd blinked and the label had read some other winery, leaving Ashley to wonder about an over active imagination.
If he didn't know better, Ashley would swear the Dark was laughing at him.
It wouldn't make sense for some little provincial village to have a bottle wine from Leá Monde. It's too valuable and rare a vintage for anyone here to afford.Rationalization aside, the incident left Ashley without a taste for the drink. He settled instead on the strong, dark beer that was in abundance at the celebration.
The food was a variety of sausages and roasts with onions, cabbage and late season apples in the dishes. Dark bread sat in baskets around the table. The plates were simple and wooden. Ashley watched as revelers would approach the table, fill up a plate with food, and grab a tankard of beer before finding a quiet spot to eat. He soon followed suit.
Appetite satisfied Ashley wandered. The area designated as a dance floor held little appeal for him. Ashley didn't know if he could dance and the middle of a crowded festival was not the place to find out. There was more dancing and partying going on in the village, but the company there didn't appeal to him either. Giggles and stifled moans from the edge of one of the hay fields let him know what that was area was being used for.
He was exploring the edge of the woods when movement overhead made him freeze. Heart racing, Ashley's hand was halfway to a crossbow that wasn't there before he realized the bats below the trees were carved from wood and hanging from bright colored ribbons. Not real. This is not Leá Monde.
Ashley decided that he needed another tankard of beer.
Now, as the bells of the church rang to announce midnight, Ashley was regretting that impulse. His senses swam with the effects of alcohol, and the beginnings of a hangover thudded through the base of his skull. I haven't indulged this much since... a vague notion that he should remember crawled across his thoughts ...in a long time.
"Can't hold your liquor?"
The voice held the cultured tones of a noble, not the coarse sounds of the villagers. It took Ashley a few seconds to realize that the words were not in the native language of Allemagne, but spoken in his own tongue. Valendian. He turned his head to see Edgar, the necromancer, standing beside him.
Not Edgar. The great necromancer would never wear a mask or even a half mask, to hide his identity. By all accounts, he was too vain for that. Just someone dressed like him. The dead aren't walking tonight, and even if they were, there's no reason they'd be speaking to you. "You speak Valendian?"
"I am a traveler like yourself. I've been in the village for about a week. Long enough for me to throw this costume together in honor of this celebration." The man dressed as Edgar gestured with hands wide, indicating the outfit he wore. Strangely, the gesture reminded Ashley of Sydney spreading his claws. "What brings you to Harz?"
The question raised every warning flag Ashley had, but the Dark was strangely quiet. Why do you care? "Work. I'm a traveling blacksmith. I go from village to village completing the odd job. Usually I try for places too small to have their own blacksmith."
"A blacksmith." Ashley couldn't be sure, but he thought that the man standing beside him was amused. "It figures."
"Do I know you?" Ashley asked. At that moment the world tilted again. Strong hands caught him and held him up. When the disorientation passed, Ashley found himself with his face pressed into warm, blonde hair. He tried to move away, something akin to embarrassment heating his cheeks, but steely hand kept him where he was.
"Don't be a prude. Let's get you lying down before you fall down." By leaning his weight on the smaller man, Ashley somehow made it to where they were going. It was only once he was lying down that Ashley realized that they were in the hay field. A protest died on his lips and the slighter man settled himself on top of him. "This is better."
"What are you doing?" Ashley demanded as clever hands undid buttons. I should stop this. Why am I not stopping this? The other man's hands were metal cold against his skin.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking advantage." The smile was a quick flash in the dark, but Ashley saw it nonetheless. "Unless you want me to stop?"
There was the briefest of hesitations. I want this. I don't know why, but I do. "No. Go ahead."
It was all the encouragement that was needed.
Ashley didn't know how he wound up losing his shirt, could not remember the brief struggle that always ensued when trying to remove clothing in a compromising position. All Ashley knew was that between one moment and the next there was nothing but skin under the other man's hands. Seconds later, the other man's pants followed his shirt.
His own pants were more trouble. Ashley cursed and fumbled with the laces while his companion held back laughter. The hay was prickly against his backside as he shucked them off. Warm skin soon distracted him from the small discomfort.
The hips beneath Ashley's hands were leaner and narrower than his own, the skin soft and unblemished where his carried scars. The other man still had his mask on. Ashley found that more irritating that he should have. Still, with his pale skin and blonde hair, Ashley found that he could easily convince himself that the person touching lips to his neck was the one person from his past he could never forget.
Sydney...
His hand in the other man's hair was gentle as Ashley tilted his face upwards. He wasn't expecting the tongue is his mouth or the way his hip pressed upwards in response. I'm going to leave bruises if this keeps up. Ashley forced himself to loosen his grip.
He couldn't find the words so he tried to slow the encounter with actions: slow strokes of his hand, gentle kisses, worrying his companion's earlobe with his teeth. The other man would have none of it. For every attempt Ashley made at slowing things down, the other countered with a move that made his want to thrust.
Too fast. Ashley didn't seem to be able to stop himself from rocking up against the man above him. His companion didn't seem to mind until he tried to press himself down upon Ashley's erection. It only took Ashley a split second to realize that without lubricant, without any sort of preparation at all, the slighter man was going to hurt himself.
Not to mention me. A dry entry is never easy.
"Stop." His companion froze, eyes wide and breathing ragged.
"Stop?" The word was gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "You want me to stop?" Each word was carefully spaced, as if the other man was doing his best not to reach out and throttle Ashley.
"Yes. Hand me my pants."
"If you think I have waited this long to get you beneath me just to have you stop in the middle, you are sadly mistaken Riskbreaker." The last word was hissed out as he pushed down. Ashley grabbed hold of his hips, keeping his companion from moving.
Patience. His own temper was frayed at the idea that anyone would hurt themselves like this. Ashley sucked in a breath, and let it out. "If you will look in the pocket of my pants, you will find a small iron container. It has some cream that will make things easier."
"And you just happen to have this on your person?" Ashley couldn't interpret the emphasis on the word, but he knew that the man above him was not happy.
"I'm a blacksmith. Working the forge is rough on my hands. It's hard to do detailed metalwork when your fingers are cracked and bleeding." Ashley explained. Then he took the decision out of the other's hands, rolling the smaller man beneath him.
"What are you doing?"
"What I should have done earlier." A brief search with his hand in the darkness produced his pants. It took mere seconds for him to find the container. He opened it in the dark, coating his fingers with the ointment before reaching between Sydney's legs and pressing there.
The other man hissed at first, nerves still abused from earlier. Gradually he relaxed against Ashley's touch. It was only when Sydney was moving against him, all hints of pain gone from his movements, that Ashley decided to finish what they had started. He bit back a curse when his own hand, slick from additional ointment, touched his erection. Ashley pushed Sydney's legs up. His fingers fumbled against the other man's skin, slippery still, as he grabbed hold and pushed.
Even with his preparations Sydney was tight. I won't hurt him. I won't. I can stop if I need to. Ashley almost gave it up as a lost cause before he felt muscles suddenly yield. The head went past tight muscles, soon followed by the rest. He held himself still.
"Any time, Riskbreaker."
It was all the encouragement Ashley needed. He thrust forward, shallow at first but growing harder as he lost control. Sydney's hips trust up to meet his strokes. Sweat soaked both their skins.
"Gods... Sydney..." The scent of the other man filled his nose. His hair stuck against his forehead, got in his eyes, but Ashley didn't have a hand free to push it out of the way. One was bracing him above the smaller man. The other was wrapped around Sydney, pushing the other man towards his own release. "Sydney."
Sydney's release caught Ashley's off guard. Muscles clenched around him as warmth coated his hand. He groaned, biting his lips to try and quiet the sound. His hips kept thrusting, his face buried against the other man's throat, as he chased his own pleasure. Claws raked his back.
The world narrowed to the man beneath him as Ashley came.
---
Ashley woke to sunlight on his face and hay against sensitive parts. He rolled, shielding his eyes, and reaching out for his pants and Sydney with the other. He found his pants but his other hand encountered air. Sydney was gone. If he even existed. Ghosts walk on All Hallow's Eve. And I somehow doubt the real Sydney would let me roll him in the hay. He is... was too polished for that.
He wrinkled his nose against the stickiness, pulling on his pants and promising himself a wash in the nearest river. Ashley stretched, but didn't feel any wounds on his back. Proof that I need to find company in bed more often.
Something on the ground caught his eye. There, in the grass, lay a single earring. Black hematite with a single diamond set into steel. Possessed by a demon-wight, worn by the great necromancer Edgar.
The last time Ashley had seen them had been in the depths of Leá Monde. There was only one pair in existence. He could feel the darkness in them from here, knew it was the real thing. There was only one way they could wind up here, in the middle of a country hundred of miles from the ruins of the city of Müllenkamp.
Sydney.
(no subject)
Date: 10/30/05 11:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 10/30/05 10:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 10/30/05 11:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 10/31/05 06:49 am (UTC)Now I'm curious about the rest of the story behind this, though... It gives you just enough hints to make you wish you knew more.