ragnar/athelstan

[forvitni]

Any other man with a new slave might try to break him physically, and Ragnar was certainly capable. He hadn't exactly been gentle with Athelstan so far, but he had not laid a hand on him in anger. In fact, he'd spent more time making sure his slave felt at home with his family, to learn more about him and the lands from which he came. Nothing about Ragnar Lodbrok was unplanned, however. Every move, every word, every gesture was purposeful.

For now, he was simply staring. He'd been staring at Athelstan for nearly an hour now, cross-legged near the hearth. He hadn't spoken a word yet, and his face gave away little, save for the ever present laugh-lines creasing his eyes and the smile that implied he knew something you did not.

He'd developed something of an obsession with this priest, this new and unfamiliar thing that held a wealth of new wisdom, if he could figure out how to unlock it. He had to be inside his mind somehow, and for that, a beating into submission would not do. No, this took a more precise approach, and that required observation. He would take everything that he could of this man, and why not? The gods had brought this opportunity to him for a reason.

He shifted suddenly, stretching and then settling to lay on his side, head propped up on his knuckles. His eyes, however, had not moved.

Comments

Re: hells yeah it was amazeballs

[forvitni]

[replying through email, formatting sucks]

"I do." He replied casually, and then made a thoughtful hum before he continued. "You told us you cannot touch a woman, that you never have. What about a man? Is that a sin, too?"

Ragnar was open-minded, as was perfectly obvious when it came to Athelstan. He'd grown more curious with every day that passed, and it was plain to see that the monk was attractive, especially as his hair was growing out and his body became more tan and toned with the manual labor necessary to run a farm. He'd seen the way his wife and other women looked at him, and it just made Ragnar want him more. He loved a challenge, whether in navigating to the unknown West or bedding a man with such conviction to his God.

"Wouldn't you like to?" He echoed in that same playful tone that he'd asked when inviting Athelstan to his bed for the first time.

[prayings]

"Seed spilled for something other than procreation is a sin, not being with a man or woman," Athelstan says softly, suddenly aware of how close Ragnar is. How the other seems to brush his shoulder unintentionally, and those startling, crisp blue eyes raking over him, constantly making decision after decision about things Athelstan has no control over.

"It's not a matter of what I like," He tries to explain, and he's shifting so he can better face the other. He's trying his best to ignore the other's tone. "I've taken vows to further my relationship with God. We all have, and your... There's a lot of us you captured that have had that violated."

[forvitni]

Ragnar gave a playful roll of his eyes. He'd heard this one before. He would have Athelstan one day, but it was looking less and less like tonight. There was still the matter of tormenting him, anyway, and that was much easier.

"Have it your way then, priest. I will not violate your vows. Go back to your book, I have a need." He stood, abruptly but still with the grace of a cat, striding towards his sleeping quarters. His bed and furs were only a few feet away, but that would service his purpose quite well tonight.

He undressed slowly, his skin tanned from the summer raids, silvery scars from battles past occasionally catching the firelight. His mentioned 'need' was more than a little apparent, though he did make a concession to Athelstan's modesty by slowly pulling his furs up to his hips where he laid.

[prayings]

Athelstan drinks it in, like too full a cup of wine after their meals, and is unable to quite tear his gaze away from him. Ragnar moves like an animal, perhaps a wolf, but with all the wit of a raven watching everything carefully.

The way he says priest, sharp and hissing, it gives Athelstan goosebumps and raises the hair on his neck, but not in a frightened away. He swallows, hard, and exhales. Somehow, he cannot bring himself to look away. Not with the rugged viking in the firelight, pulling on the furs.

He should. He should look away or excuse himself and pray, but he can't. He can only stare, half in wonder and half in curiousity. His cheeks are red, right up to the tip of his ears, and he's sure with his pale complexion it's visible in the dim lighting of the house.

"What are you doing?"

He knows the answer to that, too, but he asks anyway.

[forvitni]

Ragnar laid back, looking at the ceiling for a moment as his fingertips trailed down over his chest, flattening down to drag his entire hand down below his navel to disappear beneath his fur blanket.

When he touched the base of his cock, he put his other arm behind his head, propping himself up so he could meet Athelstan's stare, the reddening of his skin creeping up from his chest to his neck with his arousal.

"Sinning." He answered with a grin that was absolutely wolfish in nature, though his breath hitched as he teased his erection with his fingertips. "Will you whisper to your god of it? Will you ask him to forgive me?"

The thought of it just seemed to entice him even more, the delicate veins of his arms and neck pressing against the skin as his heart beat more quickly. Still, he kept the blanket just high enough to keep him modest, even as his hand wrapped around his cock and stroked with more purpose.

"I think I would like to hear you pray for me."

jsyk i wrote 'stan' instead of 'satan' like five times

[prayings]

"Ragnar--" He stops himself short, licking his lips and looking pointedly away. He needs to avoid temptation. He needs to walk not the way of Satan, but the way of the Lord.

He's not sure what to think now, though. Athelstan feels his ears redden, especially at the other's words. It's perverse, and there's no doubt in his mind that Ragnar would get a perverse kick from it. He could refuse, ultimately, but that would be decidedly un-Christian.

"I would--I would rather not, if it's all the same to you." It's one very last feeble attempt before he, eventually, gives in.