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fellowshippers2006-09-13 12:45 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-09-13 12:45 pm
Brethren, Chapter Ten
Title: Brethren 10/15
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Pairing: SB/EW
Rating: PG this part
Disclaimer: Clearly not true.
Summary: Elijah and Sean talk scripture. And if that's not euphemistic, I don't know what is.
Previous Chapters
Two weeks after their mysterious evening-long disappearance into the woods together, Dominic and Viggo left on an extended trip, giving no definite date of return. Elijah, of course, knew what was going on. He had been on countless “exploratory missions” like this one, and probably would have been the one with Viggo if it weren’t for his slightly inconvenient current state of punishment. Nevertheless, he was happy to see the bastards go. Because this, he fully realized three days later with a shit-eating grin, meant that his twice-weekly prayer meeting would have to take place with Sean.
When two ‘o clock came, Elijah finished the stall he was mucking out, waved goodbye to the other boys in the stable, and brushed his hands on the back of his trousers as he headed towards Sean’s office. He had thought about this meeting a lot today, and as tempting as it was to just storm in and seduce the poor man, he had a feeling that Sean was capable of doing a lot of “figuring out” on his own by now, without needing a push. Today, he would be the picture of innocence… or so Sean would think. It was up to him to make the decision.
When Elijah stepped inside the office, pulling the thick wooden door shut behind him, he was surprised to find the minister a picture of resignation. Whereas Elijah was used to Sean’s fiery eyes, determined expression, and challenging posture, here he found a shadow of the man he so loved to goad, slumped in his leather chair with an unreadable mask of defeat clouding his features. Elijah didn’t like it one bit.
“Um, good afternoon, sir,” Elijah greeted the minister hesitantly. He stepped slowly towards the desk, unsure how to react.
Sean looked up and sighed, gesturing for Elijah to take a seat opposite his desk. He allowed Elijah half a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sir? That’s a new one out of you, lad.”
“I… are you okay?” Elijah asked abruptly, leaning forward in his chair as if physical proximity could wrench a reaction out of the older man. “You look… stressed.”
“My mental state is none of your concern, Elijah. Should we start the lesson?”
Elijah frowned, opened his Bible in his lap, and then stopped, fixing Sean with a hard gaze. “Actually, yeah, it is my concern. What’s wrong with you? I don’t like this… you’re cutting me off, or something. I don’t appreciate it.”
“What you do and don’t appreciate is not my problem, lad,” Sean bit out, and Elijah smiled slightly. This was the Sean Bean he wanted to see.
“Right, well. We’ll see about that,” Elijah replied simply, dropping his focus to his open book. As tempted as he was to look up and catch the surprise on Sean’s face, he restrained himself. This was what he wanted. The fiery, passionate man he knew was lurking behind the minister’s collar. And he would reward it, not by rising to the challenge and mouthing off as he usually did, but with reticence. He would be the perfect, calm, curious student. He would break Sean down not through shouting or goading but by using his own tools against him. Ah, this was going to be fun.
“Right, then. What have you and Viggo been discussing in your meetings thus far? I guess we can work from there,” Sean finally spoke, opening his own Bible in front of him on the desk.
“We’ve been reading psalms together,” Elijah answered, flipping to where a red ribbon marked his place. “He chooses a psalm for each meeting and I read it, and then come back and discuss what I’ve learned.”
“And which psalm did you last read?” Sean asked.
“Um, it’s the seventh.”
“And what did you think of this psalm?” Sean prompted, turning in his own Bible to the appropriate page.
“Well, I was particularly interested in lines three through five,” Elijah explained, finding the section with his finger and reading aloud. “’Yaweh, my God, if I have done this, if there is iniquity in my hands, if I have rewarded evil to him who was at peace with me (yes, if I have delivered him who without cause was my adversary), let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it; yes, let him tread my life down to the earth, and lay my glory in the dust.’”
“And what do you think this passage means?” Sean asked.
“Well, obviously David is arguing that he’s done no wrong to his adversary. In fact, he beseeches God to punish him severely if he has done anything to his enemy, but specifically if he has ‘rewarded evil to him who was at peace with me.’ So in other words, I guess, don’t go asking for trouble.” Sean smiled slightly at Elijah’s sheepish grin and nodded.
“Go on.”
“I think, also, that David is saying that men should let each other conduct their own lives as they see fit. He asks God to punish him if he has done wrong, in other words, to deliver his own judgment of David’s actions, but he’s also saying that men should not judge each other. The ultimate wrong is doing evil to someone who has done nothing to you. Viggo and I have talked a lot about God’s judgment, and how it is wrong to judge a fellow man… I guess David here is subscribing to a sort of ‘live and let live’ policy. If you’re not hurting other people, do as you see fit.”
Sean narrowed his eyes as Elijah came to the end of his explanation, sensing a trap but not entirely sure how to defuse it. “Well, Elijah, there are things that a man can do wrong that don’t directly hurt another. Suicide, for example, is a great sin. A man who commits this sin does not directly harm another by taking his own life, but he does harm the fabric of the community and indirectly harm others through the loss to society. There are also other things that the church does not condone that aren’t directly harmful to another human being, but are destructive for other reasons. How would you explain that?”
Elijah was still for a moment, considering. “Well… I would say that the church is a body of human beings. We all have an intention to love and serve the Lord, but who’s to say that one man’s means of worship is right, while another’s is wrong? David asks God to make the final judgment, not men. And I’m in inclined to agree with him.” Sean was silent for a moment, his gaze mildly rebuking but no words coming to his tongue, and Elijah jumped at the chance to twist the knife deeper. He scooted forward in his chair, his hands fidgeting and eyes bright as he spoke, caught up in the passion of the chance to defend his argument. “Men, I believe, are prone to certain inclinations, if you will. Certain desires or… urges. Perhaps not all of these are correct or holy, but a man must run at least partly on instinct. Viggo and I agree on this—if Christ is in a man’s heart, he will know right from wrong. Some of these urges may feel unnatural, and others may feel correct. A man can suppress an urge which he feels no internal objection to, because the church or other men tell him it is wrong, but in the end you… he… knows that the feeling is natural and right.”
Sean frowned at Elijah’s slip-up, but the words hit truer than he would have liked. He glared across his desk at the conniving little youth, the headstrong boy who pushed his every button, who managed to expose desires that he had long since buried, and God help him, this only made him want the young man more. He had been trying to fight it since he first encountered Elijah, but now the feelings bubbled to the surface with a force all their own, and he couldn’t help but question whether Elijah was right—why, after all, did he feel no pull of guilt when he and the young man spoke freely? Why did God not caution him through his conscience to avoid these debates that only made his blood boil with excitement and passion?
Still, however, he had a job to do, and he was damned if he was going to let his own passions interfere before he had more thoroughly analysed them. “Elijah, I think you’re treading a fine line here,” he ventured, careful to school his own expressions to neutrality and not to allow the young man to push him into anger. Anger, he had found, was far too akin to passion for his comfort. “Perhaps Viggo is right. I would agree that God gives us each an internal mechanism to determine right from wrong, a basic sense of morality that can act as a compass for our actions. But it is still our responsibility to follow the scriptures, and the scriptures strictly forbid certain desires, including those which I’m sure you’re alluding to.”
“Would you judge me, Sean?” Elijah asked, suddenly, throwing Sean a bit off balance at the sincerity in his eyes. His expression was almost childlike, his head cocked to the side and the pads of his fingers pressed together in a triangular shape, just resting against his lips as he appeared to genuinely be trying to understand the older man. “If I told you that I have felt, and do feel now, an almost all-consuming desire for another man, a desire which is pure and right and true and feels in my heart to be as spiritual as taking the Holy Communion—would you judge me? Would you judge me here on earth, before God is given a chance in heaven?”
Sean stared for a moment, just stared, not moving, not blinking. He knew the proper response. ‘Of course, Elijah, your desires are inappropriate and I want only to guide you in the proper direction, as your minister, so that you can avoid such a holy judgment when it comes.’ But, God help him, he had felt those same desires. He tried to suppress them, tried with every fiber of his courage to hold back, but he couldn’t deny it. His mind tried to caution him, reminding him of the teachings of his elders and the community’s interpretation of the Bible, but his heart leaped in his throat, surging at the chance to express a joy that was as pure as any he had ever felt in response to Elijah’s admissions. Feelings long suppressed, a relationship from his youth… it all came back in the blue of Elijah’s eyes and the innocence of his smile, and the only response Sean could think of was not an answer to Elijah, but a plea to the Almighty. Forgive me father, for I so desire to sin.
“No, Elijah,” Sean spoke finally, hands folded on the desk in front of him. “I should judge you, perhaps. But I cannot,” he breathed, his eyes lowered, unable to meet the glee he was sure to find on the face across from him.
A minute passed, maybe two. Time, in fact, seemed to stand still, until a pale hand slid within Sean’s field of vision, cupping his chin in a firm, but gentle grasp. A slight pressure forced him to look up, and in those eyes, Sean was lost.
“I’ll see you next week,” Elijah said simply, his voice soft. He smiled, almost angelically, and left the room without a single teasing remark. No shout of triumph, no seductive sway towards the door, no inappropriate touches to seal Sean’s fate. Elijah was giving Sean a choice, and he was damned if that didn’t make him ten times harder to resist.
The minister sighed, let his forehead rest on the cool wooden surface of his desk, and wished that Viggo were here. Viggo would have the answers. Or Viggo, at the very least, would force him to admit that the answers were right in front of him.
Damn that bastard. Why was he always right?
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Pairing: SB/EW
Rating: PG this part
Disclaimer: Clearly not true.
Summary: Elijah and Sean talk scripture. And if that's not euphemistic, I don't know what is.
Previous Chapters
Two weeks after their mysterious evening-long disappearance into the woods together, Dominic and Viggo left on an extended trip, giving no definite date of return. Elijah, of course, knew what was going on. He had been on countless “exploratory missions” like this one, and probably would have been the one with Viggo if it weren’t for his slightly inconvenient current state of punishment. Nevertheless, he was happy to see the bastards go. Because this, he fully realized three days later with a shit-eating grin, meant that his twice-weekly prayer meeting would have to take place with Sean.
When two ‘o clock came, Elijah finished the stall he was mucking out, waved goodbye to the other boys in the stable, and brushed his hands on the back of his trousers as he headed towards Sean’s office. He had thought about this meeting a lot today, and as tempting as it was to just storm in and seduce the poor man, he had a feeling that Sean was capable of doing a lot of “figuring out” on his own by now, without needing a push. Today, he would be the picture of innocence… or so Sean would think. It was up to him to make the decision.
When Elijah stepped inside the office, pulling the thick wooden door shut behind him, he was surprised to find the minister a picture of resignation. Whereas Elijah was used to Sean’s fiery eyes, determined expression, and challenging posture, here he found a shadow of the man he so loved to goad, slumped in his leather chair with an unreadable mask of defeat clouding his features. Elijah didn’t like it one bit.
“Um, good afternoon, sir,” Elijah greeted the minister hesitantly. He stepped slowly towards the desk, unsure how to react.
Sean looked up and sighed, gesturing for Elijah to take a seat opposite his desk. He allowed Elijah half a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sir? That’s a new one out of you, lad.”
“I… are you okay?” Elijah asked abruptly, leaning forward in his chair as if physical proximity could wrench a reaction out of the older man. “You look… stressed.”
“My mental state is none of your concern, Elijah. Should we start the lesson?”
Elijah frowned, opened his Bible in his lap, and then stopped, fixing Sean with a hard gaze. “Actually, yeah, it is my concern. What’s wrong with you? I don’t like this… you’re cutting me off, or something. I don’t appreciate it.”
“What you do and don’t appreciate is not my problem, lad,” Sean bit out, and Elijah smiled slightly. This was the Sean Bean he wanted to see.
“Right, well. We’ll see about that,” Elijah replied simply, dropping his focus to his open book. As tempted as he was to look up and catch the surprise on Sean’s face, he restrained himself. This was what he wanted. The fiery, passionate man he knew was lurking behind the minister’s collar. And he would reward it, not by rising to the challenge and mouthing off as he usually did, but with reticence. He would be the perfect, calm, curious student. He would break Sean down not through shouting or goading but by using his own tools against him. Ah, this was going to be fun.
“Right, then. What have you and Viggo been discussing in your meetings thus far? I guess we can work from there,” Sean finally spoke, opening his own Bible in front of him on the desk.
“We’ve been reading psalms together,” Elijah answered, flipping to where a red ribbon marked his place. “He chooses a psalm for each meeting and I read it, and then come back and discuss what I’ve learned.”
“And which psalm did you last read?” Sean asked.
“Um, it’s the seventh.”
“And what did you think of this psalm?” Sean prompted, turning in his own Bible to the appropriate page.
“Well, I was particularly interested in lines three through five,” Elijah explained, finding the section with his finger and reading aloud. “’Yaweh, my God, if I have done this, if there is iniquity in my hands, if I have rewarded evil to him who was at peace with me (yes, if I have delivered him who without cause was my adversary), let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it; yes, let him tread my life down to the earth, and lay my glory in the dust.’”
“And what do you think this passage means?” Sean asked.
“Well, obviously David is arguing that he’s done no wrong to his adversary. In fact, he beseeches God to punish him severely if he has done anything to his enemy, but specifically if he has ‘rewarded evil to him who was at peace with me.’ So in other words, I guess, don’t go asking for trouble.” Sean smiled slightly at Elijah’s sheepish grin and nodded.
“Go on.”
“I think, also, that David is saying that men should let each other conduct their own lives as they see fit. He asks God to punish him if he has done wrong, in other words, to deliver his own judgment of David’s actions, but he’s also saying that men should not judge each other. The ultimate wrong is doing evil to someone who has done nothing to you. Viggo and I have talked a lot about God’s judgment, and how it is wrong to judge a fellow man… I guess David here is subscribing to a sort of ‘live and let live’ policy. If you’re not hurting other people, do as you see fit.”
Sean narrowed his eyes as Elijah came to the end of his explanation, sensing a trap but not entirely sure how to defuse it. “Well, Elijah, there are things that a man can do wrong that don’t directly hurt another. Suicide, for example, is a great sin. A man who commits this sin does not directly harm another by taking his own life, but he does harm the fabric of the community and indirectly harm others through the loss to society. There are also other things that the church does not condone that aren’t directly harmful to another human being, but are destructive for other reasons. How would you explain that?”
Elijah was still for a moment, considering. “Well… I would say that the church is a body of human beings. We all have an intention to love and serve the Lord, but who’s to say that one man’s means of worship is right, while another’s is wrong? David asks God to make the final judgment, not men. And I’m in inclined to agree with him.” Sean was silent for a moment, his gaze mildly rebuking but no words coming to his tongue, and Elijah jumped at the chance to twist the knife deeper. He scooted forward in his chair, his hands fidgeting and eyes bright as he spoke, caught up in the passion of the chance to defend his argument. “Men, I believe, are prone to certain inclinations, if you will. Certain desires or… urges. Perhaps not all of these are correct or holy, but a man must run at least partly on instinct. Viggo and I agree on this—if Christ is in a man’s heart, he will know right from wrong. Some of these urges may feel unnatural, and others may feel correct. A man can suppress an urge which he feels no internal objection to, because the church or other men tell him it is wrong, but in the end you… he… knows that the feeling is natural and right.”
Sean frowned at Elijah’s slip-up, but the words hit truer than he would have liked. He glared across his desk at the conniving little youth, the headstrong boy who pushed his every button, who managed to expose desires that he had long since buried, and God help him, this only made him want the young man more. He had been trying to fight it since he first encountered Elijah, but now the feelings bubbled to the surface with a force all their own, and he couldn’t help but question whether Elijah was right—why, after all, did he feel no pull of guilt when he and the young man spoke freely? Why did God not caution him through his conscience to avoid these debates that only made his blood boil with excitement and passion?
Still, however, he had a job to do, and he was damned if he was going to let his own passions interfere before he had more thoroughly analysed them. “Elijah, I think you’re treading a fine line here,” he ventured, careful to school his own expressions to neutrality and not to allow the young man to push him into anger. Anger, he had found, was far too akin to passion for his comfort. “Perhaps Viggo is right. I would agree that God gives us each an internal mechanism to determine right from wrong, a basic sense of morality that can act as a compass for our actions. But it is still our responsibility to follow the scriptures, and the scriptures strictly forbid certain desires, including those which I’m sure you’re alluding to.”
“Would you judge me, Sean?” Elijah asked, suddenly, throwing Sean a bit off balance at the sincerity in his eyes. His expression was almost childlike, his head cocked to the side and the pads of his fingers pressed together in a triangular shape, just resting against his lips as he appeared to genuinely be trying to understand the older man. “If I told you that I have felt, and do feel now, an almost all-consuming desire for another man, a desire which is pure and right and true and feels in my heart to be as spiritual as taking the Holy Communion—would you judge me? Would you judge me here on earth, before God is given a chance in heaven?”
Sean stared for a moment, just stared, not moving, not blinking. He knew the proper response. ‘Of course, Elijah, your desires are inappropriate and I want only to guide you in the proper direction, as your minister, so that you can avoid such a holy judgment when it comes.’ But, God help him, he had felt those same desires. He tried to suppress them, tried with every fiber of his courage to hold back, but he couldn’t deny it. His mind tried to caution him, reminding him of the teachings of his elders and the community’s interpretation of the Bible, but his heart leaped in his throat, surging at the chance to express a joy that was as pure as any he had ever felt in response to Elijah’s admissions. Feelings long suppressed, a relationship from his youth… it all came back in the blue of Elijah’s eyes and the innocence of his smile, and the only response Sean could think of was not an answer to Elijah, but a plea to the Almighty. Forgive me father, for I so desire to sin.
“No, Elijah,” Sean spoke finally, hands folded on the desk in front of him. “I should judge you, perhaps. But I cannot,” he breathed, his eyes lowered, unable to meet the glee he was sure to find on the face across from him.
A minute passed, maybe two. Time, in fact, seemed to stand still, until a pale hand slid within Sean’s field of vision, cupping his chin in a firm, but gentle grasp. A slight pressure forced him to look up, and in those eyes, Sean was lost.
“I’ll see you next week,” Elijah said simply, his voice soft. He smiled, almost angelically, and left the room without a single teasing remark. No shout of triumph, no seductive sway towards the door, no inappropriate touches to seal Sean’s fate. Elijah was giving Sean a choice, and he was damned if that didn’t make him ten times harder to resist.
The minister sighed, let his forehead rest on the cool wooden surface of his desk, and wished that Viggo were here. Viggo would have the answers. Or Viggo, at the very least, would force him to admit that the answers were right in front of him.
Damn that bastard. Why was he always right?