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saklani2.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2005-01-10 01:11 am
saklani2.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-01-10 01:11 am
New: Servitus 1/21 (Viggo/Elijah AU)
Hello all!
Here is a long story, finally finished, that I have been posting only in![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
viggo_elijah. Since this is now a completed bit of work, i thought I would expand and put it elsewhere.
Rhis idea came to me because of a talk on the Lj I had with [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] Of course, things worked out a little bit backward from what I originally intended, but then, when do I ever do things normally?
So, enjoy, but please do not look for historical accuracy. This has lots of plot though and is over 80,000 words long.
Did I mention this is only the first in a set of three stories? No? Stupid me...
Saklani
Title: Servitus
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com), Wushu and Iocane
Codes: Viggo/Elijah, ELijah/Sean B. AU RPS
Rating: NC-17
Part: 1/21
Disclaimer: I do not own these men, or anything else I mention here. I am not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And I am NOT them nor is what I put down here real. Thank you.
Summary: Roman Elijah buys Spaniard Viggo as a slave, but finds that he is worth more to him than he ever imagined.
Author's Notes: There is no semblance to real history here! Please do not look for any! Please! I wrote this due to a discussion on the LJ about Hidalgo and the slave scene. It was supposed to be Viggo buying Lij, but instead, it warped into Lij buying Viggo. Enjoy! Oh, the tittle means entitled to serve and refers to both men.
Servitus
Viggo stands proudly in his cage, head thrown back and eyes ablaze. The whip marks on his chest and back, the chains on his arms and the cruel bruises covering his face only serve to make him look somehow more regal. He stares with contempt at the people surrounding the cage, making bids on him.
"A great warrior," the auctioneer is calling, "sure to provide great strength and skill to your gladiatorial team or a strong back in your fields or mines."
Elijah glances with little interest around the slave market. He had no intentions of buying today, but when his eyes fall on the slave being sold he stops, mid step, his foot about two inches from the ground. He slowly puts his foot down, eyeing the man for sale and he smiled. A smile anyone who knew Elijah ducked away from.
Viggo's eyes fall on Elijah and his lips curl back in a sneer. Viggo glances away as if the man is not worth the trouble to look at. Attention shifting to a well dressed man who comes close to ogle him and reaches out an arm to touch his thigh. He lashes out with his foot, catching the man in the arm. Instantly, his chain is yanked by an attendant, who delivers two whip cracks across his already scarred back.
"Of course, he may need some training," the auctioneer says, "but a slave with spirit can easily be made into a slave with energy for hard work."
"Drop that whip slave master... before I claim damages to my slave from your employer." Elijah strides arrogantly through the now parting crowd. He speaks softly with one of his guards before looking up at the auctioneer, "He is mine now." As he speaks, Elijah's gaze is once again drawn to the slave, "Although... with all the damage your lot have done... I'm not sure if he's worth taking off your hands."
Viggo stands back up, blood dripping from his back. He glares once at Elijah and then flicks his eyes away in disinterest. When the slave master comes to corral him, he lashes out at him, trying to provoke him to draw his knife and strike. His chains make the lunge awkward, and the man gives him a punishing blow with the edge of his fist. He staggers, but keeps his feet, fresh blood now spilling from his nose.
Elijah's voice drops to a quite menacing tone, "If you damage him once more you will be *paying me*-" he stresses the words as he glared at the slave master "-to take him off your hands do you understand me?"
The auctioneer attempts to soothe Elijah. "No more damage, of course. Shall we deliver him? He shall need a few handlers to get him there and deliver him to your man."
Viggo breathes through his mouth and stands back up, knowing there is no chance he will be killed now. He stands quite still, looking for any chance to flee or fight again. His every muscle tenses for the moment, no matter how long it may be in coming.
"I don't trust you or your men to not damage my slave any further." Elijah gestures to his guards, "We'll be taking him NOW."
Viggo is handed over to three of Elijah's guards, who surround him, holding one of the chains to him each. He looks at them, reading their experience and knowledge. Seeing no way out at the moment, he follows them, keeping the chains loose at all times. They stop in front of Elijah, waiting for orders, and Viggo steadfastly refuses to acknowledge his new 'master. '
Elijah takes the time to gaze at his new slave, before reaching out, grabbing the slaves chin and wrenching it up with very surprising strength. Deep, intense blue eyes bore into pale blue.
Viggo yanks away from him with greater strength, snarling once. The guards start to yank his chain, but think better of it. Viggo rears up to his full height and takes a step away from Elijah, teeth still bared.
"Frightened of looking me? Clever slave." He turns and with a quick gesture at his guards for them to follow, starting back towards his palanquin, climbing on and directing his servants, "Home." On the ride he never once glances back at his newest purchase, just considering what he was going to do with him, even muttering, "Healer first I think."
Viggo laughs softly at Elijah 's comment, glancing at the guards who look suddenly nervous. He walks after them, but keeps speeding up and slowing down, vexing them terribly. They do not want to raise their master's ire by yanking on him, but they fear his attempts to escape. He gets close to one and whispers, "You call yourself a soldier? Hauling around slaves? If you were any kind of a man, you would cut out your own guts." The man jerks on him angrily and Viggo laughs scornfully and loudly.
Hearing the laughing Elijah turns around, looking at his guards and then at the slave, asking the head of the detachment, "What is going on?"
"He's moving around to much for us to control him, master," the guard says. "He either moves too fast or too slow." The man turns baleful eyes back at Viggo, angry at him for drawing attention to them.
"Have another guard chain him from behind, and have them pull it taunt between them, then he will walk when they do, or be dragged." Apart from his first glance, before his guard answered, Elijah does not look at his slave.
Viggo watches a man approach to attach a new chain. His eyes laugh at the new guard, who freezes midway and then comes forward again. "Coward," he whispers, surging forward to greet the new guard. The others all pull at the chains, snapping back his head and arms, and the guard clicks on the new chain. They begin forward again, but Viggo refuses to move. They drag him along, gagging and choking until the soles of his feet leave bloody tracks on in the dust.
Elijah sighs, resolutely not looking back, but knowing what was going on from the soft, but angry muttering of the guards. As soon as they pull into the courtyard of his home, Elijah gets up and strides into his home, a single word and a hand gesture ordering the slave brought with him.
Viggo stumbles over the steps, banging a knee hard, but refusing to cry out. He is proud of every mark on him. They are symbols of defiance and lessen his value as property. Let them drag him around, scrape every bit of skin off his body, for when he falls dead of his wounds, then shall he have found a honorable end.
Elijah walks through the house, not even seeing the people who moved out of their masters way, thinking as he walked into his favorite his garden. He sat on a bench that had been placed exactly for his pleasure. He points to the grass a few feet in front of him. "There."
They halt, the guards looking away from their master and the dirty, bloody slave who can barely stand anymore. He breathes fast and hard, like a horse after a hard day's riding, but his eyes reflect no pain or tiredness. They burn ice cold steel, reflecting his core hatred of the guards, the surroundings and most of all, the one who would own him.
Elijah looks him up and down for a long slow moment, "What is your name?"
Viggo licks his cracked lips and tastes blood there. "I am Viggo," he says simply.
"You may sit if you want Viggo." Elijah looks at one of the runners along the walls of the garden, "Get me two trays of lunch please." Dismissing the boy from his mind, he looks back at Viggo.
Viggo does not even glance at him, just standing on his bloody feet and staring at the other side of the garden.
Elijah shakes his head. "It's your pain... it doesn't matter to me if you wish to drown yourself in it." Looking up at the wall of the garden he smiles, turning towards his house just as a girl, a few years younger than Elijah, but with a strong resemblance, came into the garden.
"Its my death, too," Viggo says coldly. "And those are both things nobody, not even you, can take from me."
Elijah turns to look at his slave, waving a hand to quiet his sister. "No one can take anything from you that you do not let them Viggo. However if the only thing that you can cling to is pain and death... then you have a very sorry life indeed."
Viggo snorts and turns his back on the other with quiet contempt. He grins at one of the guards, who takes another step back from him.
Elijah looks over at the guard as he continued to chat with his sister, his gaze expressing his displeasure that his guard was afraid of an unarmed and half beaten slave.
Viggo tunes out the boring conversation behind him, although his mind keeps an ear open for any interesting or important bits of information. The rest of him focuses on the grounds, the weaknesses of the walls, the number of guards and slaves, the armour each carries. He casually reaches down and lifting one foot, peels off a large, flapping piece of skin. He tosses it on the ground as a fresh spurt of blood stains his feet.
Elijah and his sister take a long lunch, talking about their family, particularly their mother's failing health a great deal. When his sister finally left, the shadows were much longer in the garden. Elijah sits for a while before his eyes and thoughts turned back to his new slave. "Where are you from?"
Viggo does not answer him, not moving a muscle. But the question makes him ache suddenly a fierce, deep pain far worse than anything physical. There is one speck of truth in all this 'master' has said- his life is a sorry one now.
"I suggest you answer me slave." His voice is low and level, not even attempting to hide the displeasure in it. Elijah does not make boastful or idle threats.
"No one can take anything from you unless you let them," Viggo says, mocking the other's words, his voice melodious even in anger. "Do you believe I let them take me from my home? I let them kill my people and my friends. Are you truly that ignorant, or only that cold of heart?"
"I am neither ignorant or cold hearted. I ask where you are from because I wish to know more about you. I am Viggo... might be accurate, but it's hardly informative."
"I neither care nor wish to speak with you. If you want to beat me, do so. If you wish to kill me, feel free. I am dead already. There is nothing more you can take from me."
"I can take your will to die and keep you alive and a slave. As long as you cling to that... or try to... I can take something from you. And I do not even wish to." Elijah shakes his head. "Your home and family... if they were truly destroyed and killed... then tell me this... who will remember them if you just give up." Elijah walks closer to the bleeding and battered slave. "Consider that Viggo of nowhere." His closeness borders on a taunt, telling Viggo that he did not fear him. But it was also a compliment, a sign that he believed Viggo would not murder an unarmed man.
Viggo smiles a little and turns slowly to face him. "Their song lingers in the world, even after they and I are gone. It matters not what my mind remembers, only what the sun and the stars do." He looks down at the other man, face a mask of cold amusement. "You can keep me alive, if you so choose, but the effort will not be worth the struggle. I will never bow to you, never be yours in any way that matters."
"You know nothing of what I want Viggo of nowhere, but I do not want you to bow." He gives Viggo a complicated look, full of a number of emotions that Viggo had no chance to decipher before his expression and eyes go blank again, locked away. Turning his back on Viggo and ignoring the tiniest flutter of some emotion he fears to name, he walks away.
**********
Here is a long story, finally finished, that I have been posting only in
viggo_elijah. Since this is now a completed bit of work, i thought I would expand and put it elsewhere. Rhis idea came to me because of a talk on the Lj I had with [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] Of course, things worked out a little bit backward from what I originally intended, but then, when do I ever do things normally?
So, enjoy, but please do not look for historical accuracy. This has lots of plot though and is over 80,000 words long.
Did I mention this is only the first in a set of three stories? No? Stupid me...
Saklani
Title: Servitus
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com), Wushu and Iocane
Codes: Viggo/Elijah, ELijah/Sean B. AU RPS
Rating: NC-17
Part: 1/21
Disclaimer: I do not own these men, or anything else I mention here. I am not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And I am NOT them nor is what I put down here real. Thank you.
Summary: Roman Elijah buys Spaniard Viggo as a slave, but finds that he is worth more to him than he ever imagined.
Author's Notes: There is no semblance to real history here! Please do not look for any! Please! I wrote this due to a discussion on the LJ about Hidalgo and the slave scene. It was supposed to be Viggo buying Lij, but instead, it warped into Lij buying Viggo. Enjoy! Oh, the tittle means entitled to serve and refers to both men.
Servitus
Viggo stands proudly in his cage, head thrown back and eyes ablaze. The whip marks on his chest and back, the chains on his arms and the cruel bruises covering his face only serve to make him look somehow more regal. He stares with contempt at the people surrounding the cage, making bids on him.
"A great warrior," the auctioneer is calling, "sure to provide great strength and skill to your gladiatorial team or a strong back in your fields or mines."
Elijah glances with little interest around the slave market. He had no intentions of buying today, but when his eyes fall on the slave being sold he stops, mid step, his foot about two inches from the ground. He slowly puts his foot down, eyeing the man for sale and he smiled. A smile anyone who knew Elijah ducked away from.
Viggo's eyes fall on Elijah and his lips curl back in a sneer. Viggo glances away as if the man is not worth the trouble to look at. Attention shifting to a well dressed man who comes close to ogle him and reaches out an arm to touch his thigh. He lashes out with his foot, catching the man in the arm. Instantly, his chain is yanked by an attendant, who delivers two whip cracks across his already scarred back.
"Of course, he may need some training," the auctioneer says, "but a slave with spirit can easily be made into a slave with energy for hard work."
"Drop that whip slave master... before I claim damages to my slave from your employer." Elijah strides arrogantly through the now parting crowd. He speaks softly with one of his guards before looking up at the auctioneer, "He is mine now." As he speaks, Elijah's gaze is once again drawn to the slave, "Although... with all the damage your lot have done... I'm not sure if he's worth taking off your hands."
Viggo stands back up, blood dripping from his back. He glares once at Elijah and then flicks his eyes away in disinterest. When the slave master comes to corral him, he lashes out at him, trying to provoke him to draw his knife and strike. His chains make the lunge awkward, and the man gives him a punishing blow with the edge of his fist. He staggers, but keeps his feet, fresh blood now spilling from his nose.
Elijah's voice drops to a quite menacing tone, "If you damage him once more you will be *paying me*-" he stresses the words as he glared at the slave master "-to take him off your hands do you understand me?"
The auctioneer attempts to soothe Elijah. "No more damage, of course. Shall we deliver him? He shall need a few handlers to get him there and deliver him to your man."
Viggo breathes through his mouth and stands back up, knowing there is no chance he will be killed now. He stands quite still, looking for any chance to flee or fight again. His every muscle tenses for the moment, no matter how long it may be in coming.
"I don't trust you or your men to not damage my slave any further." Elijah gestures to his guards, "We'll be taking him NOW."
Viggo is handed over to three of Elijah's guards, who surround him, holding one of the chains to him each. He looks at them, reading their experience and knowledge. Seeing no way out at the moment, he follows them, keeping the chains loose at all times. They stop in front of Elijah, waiting for orders, and Viggo steadfastly refuses to acknowledge his new 'master. '
Elijah takes the time to gaze at his new slave, before reaching out, grabbing the slaves chin and wrenching it up with very surprising strength. Deep, intense blue eyes bore into pale blue.
Viggo yanks away from him with greater strength, snarling once. The guards start to yank his chain, but think better of it. Viggo rears up to his full height and takes a step away from Elijah, teeth still bared.
"Frightened of looking me? Clever slave." He turns and with a quick gesture at his guards for them to follow, starting back towards his palanquin, climbing on and directing his servants, "Home." On the ride he never once glances back at his newest purchase, just considering what he was going to do with him, even muttering, "Healer first I think."
Viggo laughs softly at Elijah 's comment, glancing at the guards who look suddenly nervous. He walks after them, but keeps speeding up and slowing down, vexing them terribly. They do not want to raise their master's ire by yanking on him, but they fear his attempts to escape. He gets close to one and whispers, "You call yourself a soldier? Hauling around slaves? If you were any kind of a man, you would cut out your own guts." The man jerks on him angrily and Viggo laughs scornfully and loudly.
Hearing the laughing Elijah turns around, looking at his guards and then at the slave, asking the head of the detachment, "What is going on?"
"He's moving around to much for us to control him, master," the guard says. "He either moves too fast or too slow." The man turns baleful eyes back at Viggo, angry at him for drawing attention to them.
"Have another guard chain him from behind, and have them pull it taunt between them, then he will walk when they do, or be dragged." Apart from his first glance, before his guard answered, Elijah does not look at his slave.
Viggo watches a man approach to attach a new chain. His eyes laugh at the new guard, who freezes midway and then comes forward again. "Coward," he whispers, surging forward to greet the new guard. The others all pull at the chains, snapping back his head and arms, and the guard clicks on the new chain. They begin forward again, but Viggo refuses to move. They drag him along, gagging and choking until the soles of his feet leave bloody tracks on in the dust.
Elijah sighs, resolutely not looking back, but knowing what was going on from the soft, but angry muttering of the guards. As soon as they pull into the courtyard of his home, Elijah gets up and strides into his home, a single word and a hand gesture ordering the slave brought with him.
Viggo stumbles over the steps, banging a knee hard, but refusing to cry out. He is proud of every mark on him. They are symbols of defiance and lessen his value as property. Let them drag him around, scrape every bit of skin off his body, for when he falls dead of his wounds, then shall he have found a honorable end.
Elijah walks through the house, not even seeing the people who moved out of their masters way, thinking as he walked into his favorite his garden. He sat on a bench that had been placed exactly for his pleasure. He points to the grass a few feet in front of him. "There."
They halt, the guards looking away from their master and the dirty, bloody slave who can barely stand anymore. He breathes fast and hard, like a horse after a hard day's riding, but his eyes reflect no pain or tiredness. They burn ice cold steel, reflecting his core hatred of the guards, the surroundings and most of all, the one who would own him.
Elijah looks him up and down for a long slow moment, "What is your name?"
Viggo licks his cracked lips and tastes blood there. "I am Viggo," he says simply.
"You may sit if you want Viggo." Elijah looks at one of the runners along the walls of the garden, "Get me two trays of lunch please." Dismissing the boy from his mind, he looks back at Viggo.
Viggo does not even glance at him, just standing on his bloody feet and staring at the other side of the garden.
Elijah shakes his head. "It's your pain... it doesn't matter to me if you wish to drown yourself in it." Looking up at the wall of the garden he smiles, turning towards his house just as a girl, a few years younger than Elijah, but with a strong resemblance, came into the garden.
"Its my death, too," Viggo says coldly. "And those are both things nobody, not even you, can take from me."
Elijah turns to look at his slave, waving a hand to quiet his sister. "No one can take anything from you that you do not let them Viggo. However if the only thing that you can cling to is pain and death... then you have a very sorry life indeed."
Viggo snorts and turns his back on the other with quiet contempt. He grins at one of the guards, who takes another step back from him.
Elijah looks over at the guard as he continued to chat with his sister, his gaze expressing his displeasure that his guard was afraid of an unarmed and half beaten slave.
Viggo tunes out the boring conversation behind him, although his mind keeps an ear open for any interesting or important bits of information. The rest of him focuses on the grounds, the weaknesses of the walls, the number of guards and slaves, the armour each carries. He casually reaches down and lifting one foot, peels off a large, flapping piece of skin. He tosses it on the ground as a fresh spurt of blood stains his feet.
Elijah and his sister take a long lunch, talking about their family, particularly their mother's failing health a great deal. When his sister finally left, the shadows were much longer in the garden. Elijah sits for a while before his eyes and thoughts turned back to his new slave. "Where are you from?"
Viggo does not answer him, not moving a muscle. But the question makes him ache suddenly a fierce, deep pain far worse than anything physical. There is one speck of truth in all this 'master' has said- his life is a sorry one now.
"I suggest you answer me slave." His voice is low and level, not even attempting to hide the displeasure in it. Elijah does not make boastful or idle threats.
"No one can take anything from you unless you let them," Viggo says, mocking the other's words, his voice melodious even in anger. "Do you believe I let them take me from my home? I let them kill my people and my friends. Are you truly that ignorant, or only that cold of heart?"
"I am neither ignorant or cold hearted. I ask where you are from because I wish to know more about you. I am Viggo... might be accurate, but it's hardly informative."
"I neither care nor wish to speak with you. If you want to beat me, do so. If you wish to kill me, feel free. I am dead already. There is nothing more you can take from me."
"I can take your will to die and keep you alive and a slave. As long as you cling to that... or try to... I can take something from you. And I do not even wish to." Elijah shakes his head. "Your home and family... if they were truly destroyed and killed... then tell me this... who will remember them if you just give up." Elijah walks closer to the bleeding and battered slave. "Consider that Viggo of nowhere." His closeness borders on a taunt, telling Viggo that he did not fear him. But it was also a compliment, a sign that he believed Viggo would not murder an unarmed man.
Viggo smiles a little and turns slowly to face him. "Their song lingers in the world, even after they and I are gone. It matters not what my mind remembers, only what the sun and the stars do." He looks down at the other man, face a mask of cold amusement. "You can keep me alive, if you so choose, but the effort will not be worth the struggle. I will never bow to you, never be yours in any way that matters."
"You know nothing of what I want Viggo of nowhere, but I do not want you to bow." He gives Viggo a complicated look, full of a number of emotions that Viggo had no chance to decipher before his expression and eyes go blank again, locked away. Turning his back on Viggo and ignoring the tiniest flutter of some emotion he fears to name, he walks away.
**********
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Brilliant and a much underrated pairing! Can't wait for the next chapter...
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