Prisoner of the Raven

by Kirby Crow

  Aleyn looked at him for a long moment, remembering Kellan and how he had run away from his home rather than face his feelings, giving up everything in fear of the truth of himself. He gave a small smile and looked down to hide it.

  "No. Hate is the last thing I feel for him."

  Oskell gave his shoulder a push. “Then get dressed in something proper and go to him, fool.” But his eyes were merry. “Are you well enough to travel?"

  Aleyn paused. “I am,” he said in surprise. The lump on his head hurt and his jaw was sore where Haakon had struck him, but he was astonished to realize that the blinding pain behind his eyes was gone. He realized he might never feel it again, now that he had cast aside fear. He grinned at Oskell. “Tell me how to find him."

  * * * *

  It was more like twelve hills to the west, but Aleyn finally found the steading. It was a small, rough-planked house, little better than a hut, with a few fences and two cows penned in and several goats wandering about free. A curl of smoke wafted up from the chimney, and the door was closed.

  Aleyn cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted a greeting, watching the green, wooded area anxiously. Suppose this was the wrong place, and he was on another man's land, perhaps even another Northman? Oskell had given him a new shirt, a fine new knife, and some provisions, but he knew if any landowner caught him trespassing, they would assume he was a common poacher and would put an arrow into him.

  After a long moment, the door scraped open on its leather hinges and Ranulf's big, familiar shape filled the doorway. His blond hair was freed from its braids and in disarray, and he wore no mail or warrior's garb, just his simple leather jerkin and breeches and boots.

  Aleyn waved to Ranulf from his perch on the small hill, and after a long, long time spent simply staring at him, Ranulf motioned for him to come closer.

  Aleyn trudged down the hill and walked past the cows, up to Ranulf, whose powerful body filled the door so completely.

  Once he was there, all his carefully rehearsed words fell away from him. “Hullo,” he said lamely, hitching his pack higher on his shoulder.

  Ranulf continued to stare at him mutely, as if he were a dream or a vision that would vanish if he broke the spell by speaking.

  "Hello,” he said at last. His fingers found the straps of Aleyn's pack and he slipped it free, setting it half in and half out of the doorway. “You walked all this way?"

  "It wasn't so far,” Aleyn answered. He fidgeted with his hands a little. “Oskell told me where to find you."

  Ranulf nodded, as if the information was already clear. “But what did you come for?"

  Aleyn began to stutter. That he would have to explain his presence never occurred to him. He nodded to the pack he had carried all the way from the camp. “I ... I brought your raven banner. Oskell said you would want it. And then...” he trailed off.

  Ranulf placed his fingers on Aleyn's lips. “Be still,” he said. Aleyn looked up at him, noting how very blue his eyes were, how striking the sharp cut of his features were, and wondered how he could have ever imagined he hated this man.

  "What are you doing here? You did not come all this way merely to bring me a flag. You would not do that for a jailer.” Ranulf pushed a lock of Aleyn's brown hair out of the boy's eyes, his fingertips lingering on warm skin. Then, suddenly, Ranulf's hand dropped uselessly to his side.

  Aleyn recognized that look on Ranulf's face, the look of denial. He had been wearing it himself since the day the trade cog was overtaken. Ranulf sighed and picked up Aleyn's pack, tossing it into the house.

  "You may as well come in. You can eat, at least. There is mead, too, though I know you are not fond of it."

  "I got used to it, after a bit,” Aleyn said wryly. Oh, there's a hint.

  One that Ranulf did not take. He turned away and Aleyn stepped in after him and eased the door shut. It was warm inside. Ranulf had a small peat fire going in the hearth, and a covered iron pot on it that emitted the savory smell of beef.

  "I bought supplies from the farm over the next brook,” Ranulf provided gruffly. “From Oskell's kin. This, plus the eggs and the goats and the grain I have, will provide for me until I can grow crops of my own. I am a fair hand at blacksmithing, too."

  Aleyn nodded, looking around. There was a straw bed, newly made with wool sacking spread with furs, and one table. The wooden shutters were closed against the morning chill, and Ranulf fetched a cup from his hide chest, talking as he moved, not looking at Aleyn. His voice was noticeably colder.

  "There are no chairs yet. Sit on the floor by the fire,” Ranulf ordered, his back turned.

  Aleyn did so, dropping down cross-legged on the worn planks before the hearth and wiping his damp hands nervously on the knees of his breeches. Ranulf moved about the room, fetching the mead, filling the cup with liquor, his posture rigid and stiff, as if he had taken a great wound.

  Aleyn watched him, wary but also concerned. Ranulf looked like a bowstring that was about to snap.

  As Ranulf turned and saw Aleyn watching him, he suddenly dashed the cup to the floor with shaking hands, spattering the wall. “Damn you!” he shouted. “Why did you come? I was willing to give you what you wanted, willing to let you go. You have no love for me, you said so yourself. Why are you here?"

  "I was wrong,” Aleyn burst out impulsively.

  Ranulf knelt swiftly, and despite his newfound resolve, Aleyn shrank away. Ranulf was as angry as he had ever seen him.

  "Wrong about what?” he demanded.

  "I said you raped me. You didn't."

  All the anger seemed to go out of the man at once. Ranulf sat on the floor across from Aleyn and put his face in his hands. “What would you call it, then?” he asked tiredly. “I gave you no choice."

  "I had many choices,” Aleyn argued. “I could have died, I could have tried to escape, or I could have fought you. I didn't even do that."

  "Common sense,” Ranulf countered, dropping his hands into his lap. “You said it yourself; it is not cowardice to know you cannot defeat forty men alone. I tried to tell a fool named Harald that, just before I killed him."

  Aleyn sighed with frustration, having no idea what Ranulf was referring to. “I was angry and you did frighten me, but I didn't fight you because I wanted to know what it was to have a man touch me.” He looked at Ranulf straightly. “Finally, to have a man touch me."

  Ranulf tilted his head, regarding Aleyn like he was a new vista he had a mind to explore. “Well,” he said. The smell of mead was strong in the air, sweet as bee pollen. “Shall we try the mead again?"

  "In the cup this time,” Aleyn suggested.

  Ranulf snorted and went to get the drink. “So, Aleyn,” he said, after he had refilled the cup and sat down again. “What are you doing here?"

  "Question is; what are you doing here?"

  Ranulf swept his arm out to encompass the small confines of the house and the fledgling farm outside. “What does it look like? I'm no longer a raider, or even a proper jarl. I shall have to work this land myself. This is what I am now."

  Aleyn peered at him. “You've given up the Viking life? Not that I object, mind you. You are raiding my countrymen."

  "Raiding is an occupation for young men. I am getting older and I am expected to farm and grow crops after a certain age, to settle down. Oskell has promised to send sheep and goats and a horse from Arklow. Some of my huscarls and thraells from Ribe will also come, in time."

  Aleyn looked askance at him and sipped the mead. “What about these famous wives, your family?"

  Ranulf shrugged. “The women I hardly know and they have done without me for years at a time already. In truth, they are not as fond of me as they are of each other. My sons will come here, eventually, on raids of their own. I will send word to my people that I can be found here."

  "So that's it, eh?” Aleyn put the drink down and crossed his arms. “You're going to ground, like a windblown seed that's taken root."

  Ranulf nodded in silence, though h
is eyes had acquired that heavy-lidded look that Aleyn had grown to know. It was the look that said Ranulf desired him.

  Aleyn rose up on his knees and began to pull his fine new linen shirt over his head. Ranulf reached out and grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?"

  Aleyn gave him a crooked smile. “Well, it's a new shirt. I thought I'd save it from you."

  Ranulf held onto him for a long moment as the fire smoked and crackled beside them. “What I did to you,” he said with difficulty “it is not a thing a man would forgive."

  Aleyn rolled his eyes as he pulled his arm away and shrugged the rest of the way out of his shirt. “If you're going to start talking like that, you're going to wind up saying I'm not a man and insulting me and it will be a very, very long day.” He tossed his shirt aside and began to work on his breeches. Ranulf still had not moved.

  "Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there?” Aleyn said without looking up, pulling the laces out of their eyelets. Ranulf's hands were suddenly on Aleyn's wrists.

  Ranulf leaned very close, so close that Aleyn could see the flecks of sapphire and indigo in his eyes. “Say you forgive me,” he pleaded.

  Aleyn cupped the bearded face between his hands and slowly pressed a brief kiss to Ranulf's mouth. “I forgive you."

  He was unprepared for the crushing embrace Ranulf caught him up in and the bruising kiss that followed. Ranulf's tongue slipped past his lips, exploring every part of his mouth. Ranulf's rough hands were in his hair, tugging his head back to thrust in deeper, marking him, claiming.

  When he could breathe, Aleyn began to tear at the laces of Ranulf's breeches. “I want you,” he said hotly, licking his ear. “I want to feel your body."

  Ranulf obliged him by pushing off his own boots and helping Aleyn to peel his breeches off. Finally, they were nude, grasping each other tightly as they lay on the planked floor before the hearth, their bodies grinding together, mouths locked in a passionate kiss, cock against cock.

  Aleyn panted as he felt the slippery dampness between them: the first, clear seed of excitement painting a hot, slick line between their bodies. He pushed into it, against Ranulf, his eyes closed tightly, wanting to get closer.

  "Put your hand on me,” he begged, moving his hips to thrust against Ranulf's belly.

  Aleyn cried out as Ranulf's bear-paw of a hand encircled him, stroking him quickly with no prelude to pleasure. He did not need one. Already, Aleyn's nerves were so tightly drawn that he felt he could come just like this, just pushing against Ranulf's skin and nothing else. Then Ranulf was moving that hand up and down, squeezing him, and he shouted as he came, forgetting to warn him, forgetting everything.

  Ranulf took his mouth again as Aleyn shot against him. The Viking hummed against Aleyn's tongue in pleased assent while rubbing Aleyn's seed-slicked cock, slowing only when his lover began to shiver in over-sensitized delight.

  He continued to rub his wet hand unhurriedly over Aleyn's torso. Ranulf kissed Aleyn as he lay limp and satisfied.

  Finally, Aleyn came back to himself a little. Ranulf's cock was rock-hard against his belly.

  "Tell me what you want?” Aleyn asked softly. “I want to do it for you.” He reached for the engorged head of Ranulf's prick.

  "Come,” was all Ranulf said, getting to his knees and pulling Aleyn with him.

  The bed was straw but very soft when covered in the furs, and it gave in all the right places. Aleyn lay on his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms as Ranulf stroked down his bare back to the curve of his ass, pausing there to knead and pinch the soft flesh.

  Aleyn smiled, his eyes closed. “You must like that."

  Lying beside him, Ranulf kissed his shoulder. He rubbed his beard against Aleyn's skin. “Do you?"

  "Hm,” he murmured in contentment. “I don't know yet."

  Ranulf's fingers slipped between his thighs.

  "That tickles,” Aleyn chuckled.

  "And this?” His fingers stroked upward, into the cleft there, barely grazing the sensitive inner flesh.

  Aleyn inhaled slowly, the muscles of his belly tightening with excitement. He had been nervous when Ranulf had done this before, but it had felt so good. “I think so."

  The straw mattress moved as Ranulf got out of the bed and padded, naked, to the chest. He drew out something small and came back to the bed, and Aleyn saw that it was the stoppered vial that contained the medicine for his leg. He sat beside him, removed the small wax cork and held the bottle over Aleyn's back.

  "What are you doing?"

  Ranulf drizzled the chilly oil onto the small of Aleyn's back, creating a tiny, fragrant pool in the indent of his spine. Ranulf fingers dipped generously into the oil, trailing his touch into the cleft of Aleyn's ass, and then purposefully down between his cheeks. Aleyn inhaled sharply when his fingers found the mark and pressed inward, gliding in smoothly, aided by the oil and Ranulf's deft and gentle touch.

  "Now do you like it?” he asked, sinking one finger home, deep into Aleyn.

  Aleyn bit his lip, fighting to stay still. “It is ... it is very strange."

  Ranulf curled his fingers and raked gently across that secret center of pleasure hidden inside, the one Aleyn had not even known existed a month ago, making him arch his back and raise his ass in the air invitingly.

  "Oh,” he moaned. “Oh yes, that. Do that again."

  Ranulf obliged him, drawing another long, drawn-out groan of pleasure from his throat. “Where did you learn such things?” he managed to gasp out, as Ranulf's fingers began to slowly move in and out of him.

  Ranulf did not answer, but moved so his knees were astride Aleyn's hips. Aleyn craned his head and watched Ranulf spill more of the oil over his hard dick, coating it thickly. He set the vial aside and pressed the head of his cock between Aleyn's soft cheeks, not pushing, just brushing the length of Aleyn's cleft.

  "Relax,” Ranulf said in his deep voice. “You must trust me."

  Aleyn felt the head nudge his hole and shivered. Ranulf took his cock in his hand and aimed it at the tight entrance, pressing the tiniest bit. Aleyn put his forehead on his wrists, striving to be still, not to pull away or tense up.

  Ranulf's hand was under his body, pulling him up by the waist so he was partially on his knees. “It is easier this way,” Ranulf soothed.

  Again, Ranulf's cock pressed against the tight ring, and Aleyn began to feel the muscle give. “Ah!” he exclaimed.

  Ranulf was instantly still. His hand was on Aleyn's back, stroking him like a nervous colt. In a moment, Ranulf was pushing forward again, and Aleyn hissed as the broad head pushed inside him, opening him up. He bit his lip, determined to be silent, as Ranulf waited again and then strained forward, slipping further inside the tight channel of his body.

  "There,” Ranulf said with effort. His cock was sheathed fully. He waited as Aleyn panted and became accustomed to the burning intrusion, bending forward to place a kiss on his back. Then, as Aleyn began to relax, Ranulf put his hands on Aleyn's hips and slowly began to fuck him.

  Aleyn's hands knotted into fists in the soft fur covers. Every thrust burned a little less, but it was still far from pleasurable. Then Ranulf gripped his waist, changed the angle and pushed, and sparks went shooting through Aleyn's brain.

  He uttered a shocked little cry and instinctively spread his legs wider, wanting more of that brilliant sensation. Ranulf was thrusting quicker now, his breathing erratic. He leaned over again to whisper close to Aleyn's ear.

  "You do matter to me."

  Aleyn's breath hitched. “I love you,” he managed to say, then was lost in overwhelming sensation as Ranulf changed the rhythm and began to ride him with fast, deep strokes, freeing one hand to slip beneath Aleyn and grip his aching cock. Ranulf fucked his ass harder as he neared climax, giving a shaking cry as Aleyn came in thick, hot spurts over his fingers.

  Aleyn felt Ranulf come at almost the same time, sudden heat flooding inside his body, and he whimpered and ground his buttocks back a
gainst Ranulf's groin, wanting it to never end.

  Ranulf collapsed on Aleyn's back, spent. Aleyn's exhausted protest was muffled in the furs.

  "Heavy,” he mumbled. He felt boneless, limp, like one who has swum a great distance. Ranulf muttered an apology and rolled off him, only to grip Aleyn's shoulder and pull him into his arms. They lay together, sticky with sweat and semen, as they caught their breath.

  Ranulf kissed him, running his tongue over Aleyn's lower lip.

  "That was ... different,” Aleyn said.

  "But good?"

  Aleyn snorted, snuggling closer to Ranulf's broad chest. His fingers roamed in the mat of fine gold hairs there. “Very good."

  Ranulf rumbled something in agreement. After a long minute, he spoke again. “So ... you came to tell me you love me?"

  Aleyn paused before answering. Ranulf had said he mattered, but he had not said the words Aleyn wanted to hear. Aleyn's heart began to ache dully. He suspected it would hurt for some time.

  "I guess I did,” he said heavily. He sighed and closed his eyes on a spasm of pain. “So, here you'll stay. Will that make you happy?"

  Ranulf shook his head, turning Aleyn so he could look down into his face with an enigmatic expression. “I will be miserable."

  "Oh.” Aleyn looked away. Ranulf had not been happy at all to see him, though he was happy enough to bed him. What did I expect? he asked himself dismally. After all I said to him and everything he has lost for wanting to be with me. If I were him, I would not want such a reminder around me, either.

  What now for him? Back to Cianacht, after having been a Viking's captive lover? Going home had been unappealing even before he discovered the truth about himself. Now, the thought was hateful to him.

  He felt Ranulf's warm hand under his chin, and the man tipped his face up to look at him. Ranulf's eyes were sad. “I will be miserable,” he said “because you will not be with me."