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fellowshippers2006-01-30 04:36 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-01-30 04:36 pm
Brethren, Chapter Four
Title: Bretheren
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: DM/VM, perhaps others
Rating: up to NC-17, this part PG
Beta: saura_ the excellent. I can't make her name show up properly so if anyone has any ideas, let me know!
Disclaimer: If this is real then I must be really confused.
Summary: Dominic and Viggo have a little chat.
AN: The Previous Chapters link wasn't working when I was using the memories feature, so I've used tags instead and fixed the link. If you haven't read previous chapters and are interested in a fun historical AU, then please follow that link! I love feedback like I love cheese pasties, and that's saying a lot :-)
Previous Chapters
Before long, Sunday dawned on Bethlehem. Dominic attended services reverently, though he couldn’t help but notice Elijah three boys down from him on the pew making funny faces when Viggo wasn’t looking. Throughout the week following, Dominic did his share of the community chores, and ate meals and worshipped with the others in his choir. Viggo had been away for several days, so Dom didn’t have any duties at the start of the week as far as the healing was concerned. However, his mentor mysteriously reappeared on Wednesday, refusing to give any details of his absence but putting Dominic back to work extracting juices from a couple of potent varieties of leaf.
“Viggo?”
“Yes?” Viggo didn’t look up from what he was doing, his eyes trained studiously on his juice-stained fingers as he tore bits of eucalyptus, but Dominic knew Viggo’s attention was focused on his pupil nonetheless.
“You’re the person to ask if I have a question, right? I mean, about the community?” Dominic lowered his head, looking almost guilty, and Viggo gave him a curious look before turning back to crushing the plant.
“Yes, I am. What’s troubling you, Dominic?” Viggo’s voice was soft, almost as if he knew what Dominic was going to ask before his mouth opened. It was a bit distracting, but reassuring at the same time, and Dominic felt strangely compelled to speak honestly to his mentor.
“Well… it’s just… I noticed something.” Glancing around furtively, even though they were clearly the only occupants of the small wooden cabin, Dominic almost slipped and cut himself on the knife he was using. Blue eyes flashing in concern, Viggo reached out just in time to grab Dominic’s wrist, steadying him, and gently removed the sharp object before any damage was done. Dominic slowly raised his eyes to Viggo’s face, and suddenly felt even more guilty. Viggo knew. What Viggo knew, Dominic couldn’t say, as even he was unsure as to the root of the guilty feelings he had been experiencing.
He thought back to the dream he had had just the night before and blushed, the image hazy but nonetheless something that he knew to be inappropriate.
Viggo was in the dream, and although his purpose in this vision wasn’t entirely clear to Dominic, he shivered as he felt his pulse jump insistently under Viggo’s calloused fingertips, a strong sense of déjà vu washing over him as the steady touch wrenched him back to the present.
He only wished that he could put a name to the feeling that had been haunting him, igniting without warning as he suffered under these phantom touches. However, as he was unable to do so, he tried to break the uncomfortable silence with a somewhat bumbling question.
“Wha…do… um…”
“Take your time, Dominic,” Viggo cooed as Dominic stuttered embarrassingly, trying to word his inquiry correctly.
“I… well I’m curious… you know Lucia and Matthias are to be wed on Sunday?”
“Yes, of course. The entire community is expected to attend,” Viggo pointed out with a small smile.
“Yes… well… I was just wondering…” he broke off, and Viggo smiled knowingly.
“Looking forward to your own ceremony?” he asked, voice so soft and understanding that Dominic wouldn’t have heard had he not been less than a metre away.
“Well…” Dominic’s eyes dropped to the wooden table, and as his blood continued to leap against the scant barrier of skin protecting his vein from Viggo’s thumb, he felt an insurmountable and unexplainable surge of shame. “I… no. I’m… I don’t think I’m looking forward to it at all, that is.” Viggo’s eyes studied him carefully, and Dominic found himself unable to meet the steely gaze. From his periphery, however, he could see an indescribable look pass over Viggo’s features, clouding his look of comforting with uncertainty. Dominic gently tugged his arm away, forcing Viggo to release his grasp as the older man contemplated his next words, and he wondered at the slight hesitation in his companion’s fingers before he returned to his work.
“Dominic… it’s perfectly natural to be apprehensive about one’s marriage,” Viggo replied slowly, almost as if feeling his young companion out. His fingers continued to crush the herbs against the side of a large wooden bowl, but his eyes did not waver and held Dominic’s own frightened gaze unerringly. What Viggo sought in his gaze, Dominic didn’t know, and he struggled to give the correct answer but found himself unable to deliver anything but the truth under those harshly assessing eyes.
“I… I’m not apprehensive. I just don’t want to,” he admitted, more clear now than he ever had been in his own head. “One doesn’t have to get married, right?” Viggo chuckled slightly, and the spell was broken, Dominic’s wrist slipping from his fingers as mirth crept into the fine lines around his eyes.
“Dominic, look at me. Am I married?” Viggo’s smile was almost impish, and Dominic frowned at his mentor, who for a moment took on the look of a kid who had gotten away with the theft of a favourite sweet. Before he had a chance to contemplate the expression, however, it had passed, and Viggo’s eyes were again mysteriously clouded.
“Well… well, no, but you’re Viggo.” Viggo laughed again, heartily this time, and Dominic smiled a teeny bit in spite of himself, hands fidgeting and twisting together now in his lap. “I mean… what I mean by that is… you’re a leader. I mean you’re single because you have to be. They need someone to lead the choir.”
“Because I have to be?” Viggo asked, his laughter faltering but a smile still just twitching at the corners of his mouth as he met Dominic’s eyes in a silent challenge. “…Or because I want to be? Tell me, Dominic,” he continued, softly, leaning in almost imperceptibly. “How are you so sure that I have not made a choice?” Dominic frowned, but Viggo continued, explaining himself with a cross between mirth and mystery on his features. “There are many ways to meet the same end, Dominic. You are young, but you shall learn in time. Follow the Scriptures, we teach you, and this is true, but the Scriptures contain many stories and many ways to serve your Lord. Consider this.”
Dominic shivered, not knowing why, and fixed Viggo with a blank look. He wasn’t sure precisely what Viggo was getting at, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable for no explainable reason. “Not all men marry,” Viggo continued, ignoring Dominic’s reaction for the time being. “Choosing to remain without wife, however, is a difficult path to take, and one that must be scrutinized by the Elders,” he pointed out. “You need to have a good reason, of course, as marriage is the path ordained by God for men, in a reflection of Christ’s love for the Church. But you know that already, Dominic.” His gaze was appraising now, almost a gentle reprimand, and Dominic nodded under its force, his eyes lowering again. “The choice not to marry is a choice that you can make partially on your own, but the rest is decided by the community. Tell me, though, and perhaps I can help. Why is it that you don’t want to marry?”
Dominic met Viggo’s eyes again, and thought about the question for a moment, how best to answer. But in reality, he didn’t know. It just didn’t feel right. He shook his head, clearing it.
“I can’t answer that,” he responded before he realized what he was saying, and then wasn’t sure exactly why it was that he couldn’t answer. But Viggo just nodded, and seemed to understand, returning to his work in a subtle dismissal of the topic.
“When you’re ready to answer, I’m here.” Dominic sighed and reached across the table for his knife again, the cool blade against his skin bringing him back to reality as he refocused himself on his work. He didn’t understand his mentor, and perhaps he never would, but it was a comfort. Maybe he didn’t really have to.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Pairing: DM/VM, perhaps others
Rating: up to NC-17, this part PG
Beta: saura_ the excellent. I can't make her name show up properly so if anyone has any ideas, let me know!
Disclaimer: If this is real then I must be really confused.
Summary: Dominic and Viggo have a little chat.
AN: The Previous Chapters link wasn't working when I was using the memories feature, so I've used tags instead and fixed the link. If you haven't read previous chapters and are interested in a fun historical AU, then please follow that link! I love feedback like I love cheese pasties, and that's saying a lot :-)
Previous Chapters
Before long, Sunday dawned on Bethlehem. Dominic attended services reverently, though he couldn’t help but notice Elijah three boys down from him on the pew making funny faces when Viggo wasn’t looking. Throughout the week following, Dominic did his share of the community chores, and ate meals and worshipped with the others in his choir. Viggo had been away for several days, so Dom didn’t have any duties at the start of the week as far as the healing was concerned. However, his mentor mysteriously reappeared on Wednesday, refusing to give any details of his absence but putting Dominic back to work extracting juices from a couple of potent varieties of leaf.
“Viggo?”
“Yes?” Viggo didn’t look up from what he was doing, his eyes trained studiously on his juice-stained fingers as he tore bits of eucalyptus, but Dominic knew Viggo’s attention was focused on his pupil nonetheless.
“You’re the person to ask if I have a question, right? I mean, about the community?” Dominic lowered his head, looking almost guilty, and Viggo gave him a curious look before turning back to crushing the plant.
“Yes, I am. What’s troubling you, Dominic?” Viggo’s voice was soft, almost as if he knew what Dominic was going to ask before his mouth opened. It was a bit distracting, but reassuring at the same time, and Dominic felt strangely compelled to speak honestly to his mentor.
“Well… it’s just… I noticed something.” Glancing around furtively, even though they were clearly the only occupants of the small wooden cabin, Dominic almost slipped and cut himself on the knife he was using. Blue eyes flashing in concern, Viggo reached out just in time to grab Dominic’s wrist, steadying him, and gently removed the sharp object before any damage was done. Dominic slowly raised his eyes to Viggo’s face, and suddenly felt even more guilty. Viggo knew. What Viggo knew, Dominic couldn’t say, as even he was unsure as to the root of the guilty feelings he had been experiencing.
He thought back to the dream he had had just the night before and blushed, the image hazy but nonetheless something that he knew to be inappropriate.
Viggo was in the dream, and although his purpose in this vision wasn’t entirely clear to Dominic, he shivered as he felt his pulse jump insistently under Viggo’s calloused fingertips, a strong sense of déjà vu washing over him as the steady touch wrenched him back to the present.
He only wished that he could put a name to the feeling that had been haunting him, igniting without warning as he suffered under these phantom touches. However, as he was unable to do so, he tried to break the uncomfortable silence with a somewhat bumbling question.
“Wha…do… um…”
“Take your time, Dominic,” Viggo cooed as Dominic stuttered embarrassingly, trying to word his inquiry correctly.
“I… well I’m curious… you know Lucia and Matthias are to be wed on Sunday?”
“Yes, of course. The entire community is expected to attend,” Viggo pointed out with a small smile.
“Yes… well… I was just wondering…” he broke off, and Viggo smiled knowingly.
“Looking forward to your own ceremony?” he asked, voice so soft and understanding that Dominic wouldn’t have heard had he not been less than a metre away.
“Well…” Dominic’s eyes dropped to the wooden table, and as his blood continued to leap against the scant barrier of skin protecting his vein from Viggo’s thumb, he felt an insurmountable and unexplainable surge of shame. “I… no. I’m… I don’t think I’m looking forward to it at all, that is.” Viggo’s eyes studied him carefully, and Dominic found himself unable to meet the steely gaze. From his periphery, however, he could see an indescribable look pass over Viggo’s features, clouding his look of comforting with uncertainty. Dominic gently tugged his arm away, forcing Viggo to release his grasp as the older man contemplated his next words, and he wondered at the slight hesitation in his companion’s fingers before he returned to his work.
“Dominic… it’s perfectly natural to be apprehensive about one’s marriage,” Viggo replied slowly, almost as if feeling his young companion out. His fingers continued to crush the herbs against the side of a large wooden bowl, but his eyes did not waver and held Dominic’s own frightened gaze unerringly. What Viggo sought in his gaze, Dominic didn’t know, and he struggled to give the correct answer but found himself unable to deliver anything but the truth under those harshly assessing eyes.
“I… I’m not apprehensive. I just don’t want to,” he admitted, more clear now than he ever had been in his own head. “One doesn’t have to get married, right?” Viggo chuckled slightly, and the spell was broken, Dominic’s wrist slipping from his fingers as mirth crept into the fine lines around his eyes.
“Dominic, look at me. Am I married?” Viggo’s smile was almost impish, and Dominic frowned at his mentor, who for a moment took on the look of a kid who had gotten away with the theft of a favourite sweet. Before he had a chance to contemplate the expression, however, it had passed, and Viggo’s eyes were again mysteriously clouded.
“Well… well, no, but you’re Viggo.” Viggo laughed again, heartily this time, and Dominic smiled a teeny bit in spite of himself, hands fidgeting and twisting together now in his lap. “I mean… what I mean by that is… you’re a leader. I mean you’re single because you have to be. They need someone to lead the choir.”
“Because I have to be?” Viggo asked, his laughter faltering but a smile still just twitching at the corners of his mouth as he met Dominic’s eyes in a silent challenge. “…Or because I want to be? Tell me, Dominic,” he continued, softly, leaning in almost imperceptibly. “How are you so sure that I have not made a choice?” Dominic frowned, but Viggo continued, explaining himself with a cross between mirth and mystery on his features. “There are many ways to meet the same end, Dominic. You are young, but you shall learn in time. Follow the Scriptures, we teach you, and this is true, but the Scriptures contain many stories and many ways to serve your Lord. Consider this.”
Dominic shivered, not knowing why, and fixed Viggo with a blank look. He wasn’t sure precisely what Viggo was getting at, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable for no explainable reason. “Not all men marry,” Viggo continued, ignoring Dominic’s reaction for the time being. “Choosing to remain without wife, however, is a difficult path to take, and one that must be scrutinized by the Elders,” he pointed out. “You need to have a good reason, of course, as marriage is the path ordained by God for men, in a reflection of Christ’s love for the Church. But you know that already, Dominic.” His gaze was appraising now, almost a gentle reprimand, and Dominic nodded under its force, his eyes lowering again. “The choice not to marry is a choice that you can make partially on your own, but the rest is decided by the community. Tell me, though, and perhaps I can help. Why is it that you don’t want to marry?”
Dominic met Viggo’s eyes again, and thought about the question for a moment, how best to answer. But in reality, he didn’t know. It just didn’t feel right. He shook his head, clearing it.
“I can’t answer that,” he responded before he realized what he was saying, and then wasn’t sure exactly why it was that he couldn’t answer. But Viggo just nodded, and seemed to understand, returning to his work in a subtle dismissal of the topic.
“When you’re ready to answer, I’m here.” Dominic sighed and reached across the table for his knife again, the cool blade against his skin bringing him back to reality as he refocused himself on his work. He didn’t understand his mentor, and perhaps he never would, but it was a comfort. Maybe he didn’t really have to.