Work Text:
Disclaimer: not mine
Notes: to dear wolfie on her birthday. Happy Birthday, Stormy!
***
Jim was putting the slivers of meat and onion into the small travel cauldron as the others got ready for their mission, whatever that was. Nothing good, that was certain.
"Everyone set? Lets go, then. Oh, and Char, keep your dick in your pants and it will stay there", Garrett commented to the youngest one in their band, the one who had been ordered to stay behind and watch the camp. The young man barely out of his teens grimaced, and nodded reluctantly. You could never know when Garrett was exaggerating and when he was being totally serious. It was always wise to bet on the latter.
Jim watched as his owner turned and started to walk towards the road to the town of Lavina. Char sat down with his back to a tall tree, settling down to a spot where he could keep on eye on the camp, the footpath to it and Jim.
Jim turned his attention back to the lunch preparations. It was only early morning, but it would be some time before the meat was well cooked. It would also keep his mind off other things, such as the dismal state of his life.
***
He could still remember the sight and sound of coins changing hands as his father sold him to the travelling merchant. His half-formed senses made him different, setting him apart from the others, but they were not acute enough to make him a sentinel. The senior sentinel of the tribe, Alex, had been quite clear about it. He was not a sentinel, but neither was he a mundane, thus there was no place for him in the tribe. To solve the matter, his father took him with him as he set out to sell the furs. As they set out on the road, Jim knew his father was obligated to solve the problem he had become, but he had expected to be apprenticed or to be forced to join the army, to be sold into slavery had not entered his mind, though he supposed it should have.
He took out the herbs and started to ground them.
The merchant had not been that bad. As long as Jim did his work and caused no trouble, the older man mostly ignored him. Unfortunately, the merchant was an avid gambler. They had met Garrett and his band by a watering place in a larger village. Pretty soon the merchant was throwing dice with Garrett. He lost quite a few hard earned coins and in a wild throw to win them back he also lost Jim. The merchant bemoaned the loss of coins more than the loss of his new slave.
The next day Jim had left the village with his new owner. At midday, they had camped down in a cool grove. His new owner had taken him to a spot some feet away from the others, and had told him to get down on all fours. Jim had balked. After a few bruising hits, he had done as he was told. After all, he was a slave now.
Garrett had not been careful or considerate. The act was meant to show him his place, and to show the others just who owned the new slave.
Jim added the herbs to the cauldron. He sniffed. Would be some time before he could add the vegetables.
Garrett had not exercised his bedding rights after that. They had been on the road for several long days and the others had been somewhat tense. There was talk about a mission and what to do afterwards. No one had said anything explicit about what the mission was about exactly, but it expected it to change things for the better. Jim did not care much about it, except so far as it concerned him. If Garrett got into trouble with the temple or the royal guard, his goods (including his slaves) could be confiscated, and gods knew what would happen to Jim then.
Jim sighed. He could hear the wagons rolling onto the town on the road down the hill. Day was beginning.
If the mission or whatever went well, Garrett would probably allow Stefan to have him. The large man had been groping him from day one. As soon as Garrett had fucked him, Stefan had asked if he could have him next. Jim had been relieved when Garrett had barked at Stefan 'to keep his mind on their task and out of his ass'. Stefan had shrugged, but had not even tried to keep his hands to himself during the days that followed.
Jim fingered the simple slave collar on his neck. Not even the high priestess could take it off; it marked him forever as someone else's property.
Jim settled down on his back on the blanket and stared up at the lightening sky. If he escaped, where could he go? The collar ensured that he could be tracked down. Garrett would come after him and punish him. The cold man had threatened to sell him to a brothel if he ever caused trouble. What if he was sold again? No doubt there were worse owners, but maybe there were also better ones, though with his luck he would probably end up with worse.
***
"You certain they will come?" Simon asked. He did not like ambushes or these cloak-and-dagger games.
"Yes, I trust the information and the person I got it from. Besides, it makes sense. It would really be a coup for the Brotherhood. The Stone may not be the most powerful relic, but the prestige it would bring is quite significant," Blair explained patiently. He knew the guard commander was feeling edgy. Things had been somewhat hectic in the region of late.
"I know. Their gifted ones could gain quite an advantage, but still..." Simon sighed. He was about to continue, but then Guide Rafe motioned for silence. Someone was coming.
***
The food was almost ready, when Jim heard Garrett coming. He frowned. It was only mid-morning and Garrett had only two men with him instead of five. Something bad had happened.
Char ran down the hill to meet with the others. Garrett barked at him to pack up as soon as he was within hearing distance and the lad ran back up the hill fast as a hare. Jim put a lid on the cauldron and started to roll up the sleeping bags. He had a really bad feeling about this.
***
Garrett was in a bad mood. Apparently someone had ratted about them and the guards had been waiting for them. Jim was glad about that, but was careful not to show it.
They stopped by a small lake just after noon. They had been riding all morning, bypassing the road. Even Jim had been allowed to ride one of the empty saddles. Everyone was tired.
Jim and the youngster put up camp as the others washed by the lake. If not for the depressed atmosphere, the setting could have been idyllic.
"Cap'?" Stefan asked Garrett as they came to the campsite after washing. Jim had been somewhat disappointed to notice that the large man had survived.
"Go ahead," the leader of the band said off-handedly. His mind was elsewhere.
The large man grinned, and walked over to Jim. He pulled the slave up and dragged him over to his sleeping furs farthest away from the lake. Jim was doing his best to calm down and not let his fear get the upper hand. He was a slave, this was pretty much standard for slaves and he had better get used to it, but his heart was still hopping up and down like a rabbit on dream weed.
Stefan threw Jim down on the furs and sat down between his legs. Jim kept his legs spread, fighting to calm his breathing. He would have to relax or this would hurt even more.
The larger man opened his trousers and took a small cask from his bags by the sleeping furs. He slathered some healing ointment on his cock. Jim was grateful for that small consideration, Garrett had not bothered with it. Jim had had to use it afterwards, much to the amusement of the others.
Jim had promised himself he would not scream, but when Stefan pushed in to the hilt at one thrust, he shouted. It hurt. Almost as much as the chuckles and jokes he could hear, and the dirty comments.
It did not take long before Jim could feel come flooding his insides. He turned his head to stare at the evergreen bush instead of the campsite, and the indifference of others.
"Lock your legs around my waist, bitch," Stefan told him quietly as he settled better on top of the slave. Jim swallowed the tears of humiliation, and did as he was told. He could feel the cock inside him hardening again.
The second time the pace was slower, but still hard. Jim concentrated on the smells of the horses and plants instead of Stefan's sweat and come. He listened to the birds and small rodents instead of Stefan's groans and sighs.
***
"Do we attack now?" Henry asked. They had followed the band of thieves for most of the morning. The lakeside where the soldiers from the Brotherhood had set up was in sight.
"No, let us take our time and set up archers. It will give the thieves time to settle down and relax." Simon did not add that it would give them some time to relax too. It was a warm day and the dry season was at its peak. He also wanted more time to finalise the attack; they had lost too many soldiers already.
***
Jim put the cauldron on the fire pit to heat it up. He straightened up and walked stiffly to the lakeside. Time for him to wash up. He ignored the snickers he could hear. He just wanted to wash off the feel and smell of another man on him.
He took off his worn tunic and walked into the water. It felt cool on his sun-heated skin.
Jim froze. He thought he heard something, something half-familiar. He looked around at the gnarled and tough leafed trees. You *could* hide some men in those bushes, if they were really good. He shook his head. What did it really matter to him? Besides, without a guide to anchor him, his errant senses were pretty much useless.
***
Blair looked at the slave bathing in the lake. He was certain the man had sensed them. Did that make him a fledgling sentinel or a gifted one? Not that it mattered much, not in a slave.
He looked with appreciation as the slave got out of the water. He was a pleasure to the eyes, a classic beauty; Blair would not mind having that one in his bed.
Blair looked around. He was not the only one watching the slave, but as a gifted one and a priest he would have the first choice of any loot. He knew what he would be claiming.
***
It was well after midday and everyone was sitting by the fire pit, alone with their thoughts. Jim was sitting half on Stefan's lap, with one of his large hands under the hem of his tunic. Jim hated those hands.
"They definitely knew we were coming. There's no other explanation," Garrett stated, looking grim.
"Think someone's ratting?" Yan asked. The thin tall man gave Jim the creeps. He always seemed so unaffected by everything around him. As if he did not care about anything. Jim hoped he never had to warm his sleeping furs.
"How else -" Garrett started annoyed, but was cut off by an arrow through his throat.
***
Blair kept his senses on alert even though everything seemed to be going well. The youngest of the band had surrendered and the rest were dead. Two of the soldiers were converging on the slave who was looking nervous.
Blair walked over to them as one of the soldiers put his arm on the slave's waist and nudged him to follow them.
"Hands off, soldier," he said grimly.
The soldiers took a few steps back at once and straightened their backs. The slave did not seem any calmer by the sudden turn of events.
"Henry!" Blair shouted for the officer he could see nearby. "Look after the slave."
"Certainly, sir."
***
Jim could hardly believe it had been less than a moon cycle since he was sold to slavery. He had been gambled away once and his second owner had been killed. Only he and the youngest member of the band had been spared as the guards had attacked. The lad had decided he did not want to die just yet. A smart decision in Jim's opinion.
Jim was riding a small pony at the flank of a group of about fifteen guards. He could feel the young priest watching him. By now he knew what the looks meant, but he was not sure whether to welcome them or not. Living in a temple would be better than in the barracks, or the governor's castle, but he did not know anything of the priest except his name, Blair.
***
Blair knew he was unnerving the slave, but he could not keep his eyes off him for long. The worn tunic did not cover much and what there was to see was worth looking at. He was definitely looking forward to taking the slave to bed.
***
For the first time in tendays, Jim felt good and rested, if not clean. He doubted he would ever truly feel clean again, but this was his life now. He was a failure, after all.
He straightened his back. He had been cleaned and fed and a temple servant had given him a new tunic. It was kind of ridiculous how much such small matters meant. The young priest had claimed him officially as soon as they had arrived in Lavina and he had been taken to the temple. He hoped the priest would not get bored of him that fast; he was tired of being traded around.
***
Blair was brushing his hair. It was past sunset by now, but the temple baths had been warm enough to clean and wash his hair. Tomorrow they would have to get back to the matter with the Brotherhood, try to figure out how to prevent any such attempts in the future, but now it was time to relax, and enjoy the spoils.
A knock on the door.
"Enter."
His new slave entered the chamber. He looked even better clean and in a decent tunic. Blair could feel a fire burning up inside him.
"Didn't think you could look any better." Blair grinned at the blush. It was soo cute.
"Come here," Blair said, rising from the stool.
The slave followed him to the bed in the alcove. Blair sat on it. "Take off your tunic."
***
Jim could feel the hungry look as he took off his tunic. Looked like he would not need to worry about being cast off for some time. He had to admit he would rather be with the young priest than his previous owners.
"Good," his new owner purred. The priest took off his robe and lay down on the bed. "Now come here."
Jim laid down on the soft furs and blankets.
"Now, what's your name?"
"Jim."
A hand fondled his stomach and between his legs. A hand that was more caring in its explorations than anything he had ever felt before. Jim began to relax.
"Good. Now, Jim, listen carefully. I'm your owner, and just me. I won't share you." Blair's gaze hardened at the last comment. Jim nodded his head, understanding the promise and the threat. The gaze softened again, and Blair bent down to kiss him.
It was soft and demanding at the same time. It was also the first time Jim had been kissed by another man. It felt kind of good.
Blair explored him thoroughly as if he was a precious treasure that he had just found. Jim felt valued, cherished. The priest was careful when he entered him. The thrusts were soft and somewhat uneven, giving him pleasure instead of pain.
***
Jim looked at his new owner sleeping beside him. He did not mind belonging to this one. Looked like he had been lucky, for once in his life.
He settled down to sleep, feeling safe in his place.
***
End