Fic: Inclined
Jul. 8th, 2006 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frahulettaesI'm certifyable. It's true.
Vigorli Vig/Bean Orli/Bean and VigorliBean at some future point. Also, mentions of Eric/Orli.
This part is not porny. Chattle!Orli Mercenary!Vig and BigBadSpaceBastard!Sean. ETA: oops, forgot. firstlove!Eric.
Don't know how far this will go.
Kill me now. *stabs wips*
fra
2006
"He won't like it, milord." The steward said, low and angry. The sound whipped Aran's temper to flaring.
"I know he won't, damn you." He grumbled running blunt fingers through grey hair. "The truth is, I don't like it either. Damn Matron won't have it any other way and I don't have the leverage to change her mind. Not now." He finished wistfully and shook his great grizzled head. "Go find him. That is if he's not lurking about listening when he shouldn't be." Aran scanned the room, sharp, crow dark eyes penetrating the gloomy corners.
"Here, Papa." Came the boy's voice, shyly as he appeared before his father.
"Orlando," Aran growled and cuffed his youngest across the ear. Orlando yelped and rubbed at the sore flesh, biting his lip. "What have I told you, child, hmm? About being where you should not?" He wrapped the slender body in his arms and hugged the boy, kissing the dark hair, his heart breaking. "Come, come, now. It's going to be all right."
Orlando stiffened, his hands clutching painfully at his father's back.
"No, no it's not going to be. You've sold me." He pushed back against the strong chest and looked into his father's face. "You sold me to the Ougan. To 'The' Ougan. Why? Why them? Why…him?" Orlando's heart squeezed painfully, his breath thin, trapped in his chest by fear.
Aran raised his hand to his son's forehead, laying fingers soft as feathers across the high arch of brow, over the curve of cheek and through his black hair. Orlando's eyes closed and he nuzzled into his father's hand, painfully aware of his father's grief, its twin echoing through his own chest.
Eyes closed, Aran clasped his son in a final embrace, allowing himself but a moment of bitter regret before pushing the boy away, hands firm on the rounded muscles of the boy's shoulders. He looked into the boy's eyes, the eyes of his favorite courtesan now dead these many years, and used the last of his strength to give the boy a weak smile.
"Go put on your finest suit. The long black one…" He chuckled wryly. "It is the one you look best in." he finished and nodded. Orlando ducked his head and nodded until a gnarled finger tipped his chin up and he looked again into his father's crow dark eyes.
"And the garnets, I think. My fathers set in gold." He laid a broad hand on the dip of Orlando's neck where the jewels would flicker like fire in the transport lights.
"Yes…" he mused. "My father's jewels on your throat. What a fine irony." The words seemed to sober him and he wrapped hard fingers around Orlando's chin.
"That is 'all' you will take with you. Good bye, boy." His fingers dropped away and he looked up in time to see the Ougan's man waiting in the antechamber, his ornate layer of chains flickering in the dimmed light. His eyes narrowed, and Orlando, seeing his father's expression followed the look. They stood in a frozen tableau, both seeing and refusing to see Orlando's future. "Good bye." He grumbled and turned away, the swish of his enormous gown brushing Orlando's legs, and walked down the long hallway into the private residence, the heavy bronze door closing with a dull thudding clang.
It would be a long time before he came back into the public hall and when he did, he was that much older, frailer, than many could remember seeing him.
~~~~~~~~
Orlando dallied in his private chamber, adjusting and re-adjusting the layers of his suit, settling the lengths of garnets with precise care so that the light shone fully from each. He delighted in the passing of each minute knowing the Ougan's man was standing in the hall, helpless to do anything to hurry Orlando's preparations. The thought made him smile grimly.
He may have been sold, but he'd be damned if he went easily. The Ougan would find, upon Orlando's arrival, that he'd bought a bit more than he'd bargained for. Oh, yes. Quite a bit more than he'd bargained for.
"What are you smiling at? Or should I say 'who', little minx?" Came a voice from the open door of the veranda. Orlando looked in the mirror at the reflection of Er'c, his now former personal guard and the smile slid from his lips. "Now 'that' is truly an unattractive countenance. Are you sure that is how you wish to look?" He closed the distance between them, growing larger in the length of glass, and placed large warm hands on Orlando's hips.
They could've been brothers so close was their resemblance. Er'c, the large strong image of his father and Orlando the graceful sensual image of this courtesan mother. Both dark as a raven wing, both beautiful, both strong in their own way. Yet so different.
Orlando covered one long fingered hand with his own, his expression one of desperate sadness, and twined their fingers together. Er'c had been his first. They'd nearly been each other's first. Waking every morning in each other's presence either in bed, in the room or in each other's arms. He tried a watery smile and failed miserably, resolved that the most he could do was not cry.
"Er'c." He whispered and turned from their joined reflection, unable to meet his lover's gaze any longer, his breath a hitching gasp. "Go. Go now, please. I can't bear it." He just caught the broken look in Er'c's eyes before he felt the press of soft lips on the tip of his shoulder and then the absence of heat and Er'c was gone, his place in the mirror a haunted darkness.
"Good bye," he whispered, and extinguished the candle, the brief shine of bloody light from his garnets the last thing he saw before the light failed.
~~~~~~~~~
He stood in the arching doorway of his private chamber and watched the Ougan's man as he stood in the same relaxed stance he'd been standing in for the better part of the evening.
"I'm ready." He said quietly and the man shifted from stillness to action fluid as water. Where the Aran's were dark, the Ougan's man was light. Hair light as winter wheat and eyes clear as well water. He was shorter than Er'c though still a bit taller than Orlando and his skin and muscles were smooth and sleek as a hunting cat.
"Milord." The guard murmured, dipped a quick salute and turned away. Orlando followed him, one step behind and to the left as was proper for a man of his position, his eyes trained on the door at the end of each corridor so he would not have to see the expressions on the faces of those he left behind. So that he would not have to see, for the last time, all the places he'd ever known.
He was settled on the transport, buckled firmly into the luxurious leather seat, before he allowed himself to look out the generous transparent porthole. The Ara city lights were a welcome sight, and a painful one. He closed his eyes and knotted his hands together in his lap as the Ougan's man maneuvered the ship off the landing pad and into its low orbit arc.
"Ghan base, this is oh one five oh oh, inbound time," the Ougan's man looked at the ship chrono and hit the radio button again. "twelve and twenty two. Request landing vectors to two one three five five south, south-west. Ar cee with decree in hand." The radio button clicked off and a moment later, Orlando heard the answering voice give landing instructions to the Ougan's man.
The ship soared through blued layers of outer atmo then began its descent in a smooth curving path through the night side into the blazing light of dawn. The sudden burst of light made Orlando squint and shield his eyes and then the craft turned and the immensity of the southern mountains rose regally over the crest of the horizon and Orlando looked out upon his new home.
The ship's glide path took them over the eastern foothills, low and rolling grassy knolls and swept up toward the craggy heights of the Ghan's fortress pass bristling with tall green trees, spiky and angular. So unlike the great round oaks of Ara, intriguing and alien at the same time.
"Final approach, oh one five oh oh, inbound time one minute twenty seconds." The Ougan's man said and the voice gave an immediate reply.
Orlando's heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in his chest. He'd been raised for this. All of his twenty five years. And Er'c had been a good teacher. He had nothing to fear on that front but this was not his home, not yet, and this was not his people, and this man, the Ougan of legend, was one of the few that all men feared.
Whatever they might say about the Ougan, Orlando was a prince in his own right, son of a courtesan or no, and was owed the honor of decent treatment. Of that he was sure.
One minute later, the Ougan's man settled the elegant silver craft on a graceful out reaching tab of land and extinguished the ships engines, unbuckled his harness and slipped from the cockpit. The ship's outer door opened and a rush of brisk cool air swept into the cabin, penetrating the thin layers of Orlando's suit with ruthless icy fingers and he shivered, gooseflesh rippling across his skin.
"Milord." The man gestured toward the door and Orlando unbuckled his harness and rose from his seat, back straight, head high and left the warmth of the cabin for the chill of the soaring landing pad.
He set his jaw, determined to show nothing to the man at the door or any of the Ougan he might see that day. But as he stepped from the small ship into the clear light of morning, his breath left his body as he stood looking at the sweeping lines of Ghan, the capitol city of his new home.
"Ghods," he murmured, and instantly regretted showing his awe to the Ougan's man.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" The Ougan's man's voice was soft, his accent nearly invisible. "I felt the same when I first arrived."
Orlando looked at him curiously. Had he been purchased as well? "Did he buy you?" Orlando asked helplessly.
The Ougan's man laughed a soft laugh and shook his head. "No, no. I came of my own free will. But my choices were not easy." Clear eyes regarded him shrewdly. "You, I think, will have a harder time than I."
Orlando felt anger surge in him and he clamped his mouth shut. Bad enough he'd been sold to that nefarious despot, he would not put up with being figured out by a mere pilot.
"You know nothing of me. Nothing." He said with quiet fury and swept past the Ougan's man in a swirl of black linen. "Take me to him." He demanded over one shoulder and continued walking across the landbridge to the main port buildings carved from the mountain side.
"As you wish," Said the Ougan's man and followed Orlando into the dockside port.
~~~~~~~~~
Viggo watched the Aran stride angrily away and shook his head. Oh, Sean would have his hands full with this upstart princeling. He chuckled under his breath and turned to follow along watching the black linen sway from narrow hips. Hands full, indeed. Oh he wished to be in the room when these two first fucked. That would be something to see.
~~~~~~~~
tbc...
Vigorli Vig/Bean Orli/Bean and VigorliBean at some future point. Also, mentions of Eric/Orli.
This part is not porny. Chattle!Orli Mercenary!Vig and BigBadSpaceBastard!Sean. ETA: oops, forgot. firstlove!Eric.
Don't know how far this will go.
Kill me now. *stabs wips*
fra
2006
"He won't like it, milord." The steward said, low and angry. The sound whipped Aran's temper to flaring.
"I know he won't, damn you." He grumbled running blunt fingers through grey hair. "The truth is, I don't like it either. Damn Matron won't have it any other way and I don't have the leverage to change her mind. Not now." He finished wistfully and shook his great grizzled head. "Go find him. That is if he's not lurking about listening when he shouldn't be." Aran scanned the room, sharp, crow dark eyes penetrating the gloomy corners.
"Here, Papa." Came the boy's voice, shyly as he appeared before his father.
"Orlando," Aran growled and cuffed his youngest across the ear. Orlando yelped and rubbed at the sore flesh, biting his lip. "What have I told you, child, hmm? About being where you should not?" He wrapped the slender body in his arms and hugged the boy, kissing the dark hair, his heart breaking. "Come, come, now. It's going to be all right."
Orlando stiffened, his hands clutching painfully at his father's back.
"No, no it's not going to be. You've sold me." He pushed back against the strong chest and looked into his father's face. "You sold me to the Ougan. To 'The' Ougan. Why? Why them? Why…him?" Orlando's heart squeezed painfully, his breath thin, trapped in his chest by fear.
Aran raised his hand to his son's forehead, laying fingers soft as feathers across the high arch of brow, over the curve of cheek and through his black hair. Orlando's eyes closed and he nuzzled into his father's hand, painfully aware of his father's grief, its twin echoing through his own chest.
Eyes closed, Aran clasped his son in a final embrace, allowing himself but a moment of bitter regret before pushing the boy away, hands firm on the rounded muscles of the boy's shoulders. He looked into the boy's eyes, the eyes of his favorite courtesan now dead these many years, and used the last of his strength to give the boy a weak smile.
"Go put on your finest suit. The long black one…" He chuckled wryly. "It is the one you look best in." he finished and nodded. Orlando ducked his head and nodded until a gnarled finger tipped his chin up and he looked again into his father's crow dark eyes.
"And the garnets, I think. My fathers set in gold." He laid a broad hand on the dip of Orlando's neck where the jewels would flicker like fire in the transport lights.
"Yes…" he mused. "My father's jewels on your throat. What a fine irony." The words seemed to sober him and he wrapped hard fingers around Orlando's chin.
"That is 'all' you will take with you. Good bye, boy." His fingers dropped away and he looked up in time to see the Ougan's man waiting in the antechamber, his ornate layer of chains flickering in the dimmed light. His eyes narrowed, and Orlando, seeing his father's expression followed the look. They stood in a frozen tableau, both seeing and refusing to see Orlando's future. "Good bye." He grumbled and turned away, the swish of his enormous gown brushing Orlando's legs, and walked down the long hallway into the private residence, the heavy bronze door closing with a dull thudding clang.
It would be a long time before he came back into the public hall and when he did, he was that much older, frailer, than many could remember seeing him.
~~~~~~~~
Orlando dallied in his private chamber, adjusting and re-adjusting the layers of his suit, settling the lengths of garnets with precise care so that the light shone fully from each. He delighted in the passing of each minute knowing the Ougan's man was standing in the hall, helpless to do anything to hurry Orlando's preparations. The thought made him smile grimly.
He may have been sold, but he'd be damned if he went easily. The Ougan would find, upon Orlando's arrival, that he'd bought a bit more than he'd bargained for. Oh, yes. Quite a bit more than he'd bargained for.
"What are you smiling at? Or should I say 'who', little minx?" Came a voice from the open door of the veranda. Orlando looked in the mirror at the reflection of Er'c, his now former personal guard and the smile slid from his lips. "Now 'that' is truly an unattractive countenance. Are you sure that is how you wish to look?" He closed the distance between them, growing larger in the length of glass, and placed large warm hands on Orlando's hips.
They could've been brothers so close was their resemblance. Er'c, the large strong image of his father and Orlando the graceful sensual image of this courtesan mother. Both dark as a raven wing, both beautiful, both strong in their own way. Yet so different.
Orlando covered one long fingered hand with his own, his expression one of desperate sadness, and twined their fingers together. Er'c had been his first. They'd nearly been each other's first. Waking every morning in each other's presence either in bed, in the room or in each other's arms. He tried a watery smile and failed miserably, resolved that the most he could do was not cry.
"Er'c." He whispered and turned from their joined reflection, unable to meet his lover's gaze any longer, his breath a hitching gasp. "Go. Go now, please. I can't bear it." He just caught the broken look in Er'c's eyes before he felt the press of soft lips on the tip of his shoulder and then the absence of heat and Er'c was gone, his place in the mirror a haunted darkness.
"Good bye," he whispered, and extinguished the candle, the brief shine of bloody light from his garnets the last thing he saw before the light failed.
~~~~~~~~~
He stood in the arching doorway of his private chamber and watched the Ougan's man as he stood in the same relaxed stance he'd been standing in for the better part of the evening.
"I'm ready." He said quietly and the man shifted from stillness to action fluid as water. Where the Aran's were dark, the Ougan's man was light. Hair light as winter wheat and eyes clear as well water. He was shorter than Er'c though still a bit taller than Orlando and his skin and muscles were smooth and sleek as a hunting cat.
"Milord." The guard murmured, dipped a quick salute and turned away. Orlando followed him, one step behind and to the left as was proper for a man of his position, his eyes trained on the door at the end of each corridor so he would not have to see the expressions on the faces of those he left behind. So that he would not have to see, for the last time, all the places he'd ever known.
He was settled on the transport, buckled firmly into the luxurious leather seat, before he allowed himself to look out the generous transparent porthole. The Ara city lights were a welcome sight, and a painful one. He closed his eyes and knotted his hands together in his lap as the Ougan's man maneuvered the ship off the landing pad and into its low orbit arc.
"Ghan base, this is oh one five oh oh, inbound time," the Ougan's man looked at the ship chrono and hit the radio button again. "twelve and twenty two. Request landing vectors to two one three five five south, south-west. Ar cee with decree in hand." The radio button clicked off and a moment later, Orlando heard the answering voice give landing instructions to the Ougan's man.
The ship soared through blued layers of outer atmo then began its descent in a smooth curving path through the night side into the blazing light of dawn. The sudden burst of light made Orlando squint and shield his eyes and then the craft turned and the immensity of the southern mountains rose regally over the crest of the horizon and Orlando looked out upon his new home.
The ship's glide path took them over the eastern foothills, low and rolling grassy knolls and swept up toward the craggy heights of the Ghan's fortress pass bristling with tall green trees, spiky and angular. So unlike the great round oaks of Ara, intriguing and alien at the same time.
"Final approach, oh one five oh oh, inbound time one minute twenty seconds." The Ougan's man said and the voice gave an immediate reply.
Orlando's heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in his chest. He'd been raised for this. All of his twenty five years. And Er'c had been a good teacher. He had nothing to fear on that front but this was not his home, not yet, and this was not his people, and this man, the Ougan of legend, was one of the few that all men feared.
Whatever they might say about the Ougan, Orlando was a prince in his own right, son of a courtesan or no, and was owed the honor of decent treatment. Of that he was sure.
One minute later, the Ougan's man settled the elegant silver craft on a graceful out reaching tab of land and extinguished the ships engines, unbuckled his harness and slipped from the cockpit. The ship's outer door opened and a rush of brisk cool air swept into the cabin, penetrating the thin layers of Orlando's suit with ruthless icy fingers and he shivered, gooseflesh rippling across his skin.
"Milord." The man gestured toward the door and Orlando unbuckled his harness and rose from his seat, back straight, head high and left the warmth of the cabin for the chill of the soaring landing pad.
He set his jaw, determined to show nothing to the man at the door or any of the Ougan he might see that day. But as he stepped from the small ship into the clear light of morning, his breath left his body as he stood looking at the sweeping lines of Ghan, the capitol city of his new home.
"Ghods," he murmured, and instantly regretted showing his awe to the Ougan's man.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" The Ougan's man's voice was soft, his accent nearly invisible. "I felt the same when I first arrived."
Orlando looked at him curiously. Had he been purchased as well? "Did he buy you?" Orlando asked helplessly.
The Ougan's man laughed a soft laugh and shook his head. "No, no. I came of my own free will. But my choices were not easy." Clear eyes regarded him shrewdly. "You, I think, will have a harder time than I."
Orlando felt anger surge in him and he clamped his mouth shut. Bad enough he'd been sold to that nefarious despot, he would not put up with being figured out by a mere pilot.
"You know nothing of me. Nothing." He said with quiet fury and swept past the Ougan's man in a swirl of black linen. "Take me to him." He demanded over one shoulder and continued walking across the landbridge to the main port buildings carved from the mountain side.
"As you wish," Said the Ougan's man and followed Orlando into the dockside port.
~~~~~~~~~
Viggo watched the Aran stride angrily away and shook his head. Oh, Sean would have his hands full with this upstart princeling. He chuckled under his breath and turned to follow along watching the black linen sway from narrow hips. Hands full, indeed. Oh he wished to be in the room when these two first fucked. That would be something to see.
~~~~~~~~
tbc...
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Date: 2006-07-22 03:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 09:27 pm (UTC)I promise things are being written tho.
I may have to resort to updating a paragraph at a time.
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Date: 2006-07-22 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 10:56 pm (UTC)I wish I had someone to chat story with. I lost my writing partner recently. I'm all sad and lonely. With stories to talk about.
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Date: 2006-07-22 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 01:18 am (UTC)