ismenin | Aetheling Nine

A manip by Rich. Love their faces! Ta, son! Clickie on for a bigga.

I posted this yesterday morning before we went - it seems it didn't show up on flists - so here it be again! ;D

We are off, off... off to see the wizard - I mean, The Oxford Murders - soon, and I will let you know how we got on, on Sunday, after my lovely visitors leave. Sob. Want 'em to stay! I do. I
Cannot wait to see Lij, and all the girls in BIG. I wonder how many of us are going to see him today? I'd love to know. I s'pose I will, if I count up everyone later! :D

I am on part 15 of this story at the moment, and enjoying it immensely. Lady (blessed) Sunrope has betaed this just now, before we leave. I know that there are too many "Trembled" 's in it - I wonder how many she chopped out? Can't stop to read it, though.

Thanks, as always, to

ladysunrope for beta. Hugses

Aetheling - 9

Lighe was struck immobile with shock. Dom's mouth was soft and warm, but the embrace was hard and possessive. Lighe, unable to breathe, his head swimming with dizziness, fell against Dom's chest, as Dom's arms tightened around him and the embrace grew deeper.

Lighe was not the only one struck by surprise. Dom had not known that anyone's lips could be so sweet, so inviting. He felt Lighe's mouth open under his, and moved his tongue...

Then he felt Lighe jerk in his arms and try to draw away. Dom came to his senses, and released him, and as the Aetheling backed towards the door, his knees seemed to give way under him. Dom grasped the trembling shoulders and pushed Lighe into a chair, lifted his feet onto a stool and covered him with a fur just as a knock came at the door.

It opened slowly. "May I enter?" It was the goodwife. She stood in the doorway, holding a cup of posset, and glanced warily at Lighe, who contrived to be pale with shock and red-cheeked with anger at the same time.

She addressed Dom, who had walked quickly over to the window and was staring out. "My lord?..."

Dom waved an impatient arm in her direction. "Yes, leave it! I will see my wife drinks it presently. I thank you!"

The woman backed out, nervously unsure of how things stood. There seemed to be much tension in the room. She would see to it no-one entered it for some time. Every couple had their problems, after all.

As her footsteps faded away, Dom turned towards the chair and stared defiantly at Lighe. "I am not sorry. You needed taming. I..."

Lighe cast him a glance of withering scorn. "I would slit your miserable throat, even now, Amiens, were it not that Thrydwulf is held at your father's mercy. I would not hazard my brother's life even for such a mean insult as you offered me."

Dom could see that Lighe's hands, clasped upon the fur, were shaking. Dom, despising himself for the lie, remarked in as calm a tone as he could muster. "Come, my prince! Cannot you see it was a thing done in jest?"

He went to the bed and picked up the dagger. "Any man would expect his wife to conduct herself in a more seemly manner towards her lord. No - hear me out! We are all playing a part, here, trying to save your life, and none must suspect it. I will apologise for the kiss, but not for the thing that engendered it."

He placed the knife in Lighe's lap. "Any wife behaving in such a way - taking a dagger to her lord's throat - would be soundly whipped by him, unwell or not. Can you not see it? If the goodwife had entered the room only a few moments before she did, and found you holding the blade to my neck....you endanger us all with your fancied insults and odd humours."

Lighe stared at Dom as if he had run mad, then lowered his eyes to the knife still lying in his lap. It was truly a matter to which he had not given much thought; but he realised, with a jolt, that Dom was right.

"It is true. I am sorry for it. But no-one has ever dared speak to me as you have done these past days, or behaved thus towards me, and..."

Dom knelt beside Lighe's chair and touched his arm. "Can you not see that the things I have said to you, and the behaviour I have shown towards you, would be the way any fond husband would conduct himself in the presence of the sickly, but beloved wife of his heart?"

Lighe grew paler. He gritted his teeth. "But you seemed to derive such pleasure from teasing me. I...have never...I..."

Dom sighed. "Lando would have laughed at it. But I see you are a man made in a very different mould than my dear cousin. You never laugh, you see - and I miss such laughter, sore."

Lighe tucked the knife back into his girdle. "Do you miss him so much, after only one day?"

Dom's brow furrowed. "No, indeed. We are used to being apart for months - even years - on end . But when we meet again there is merriment, laughter...the ease of long friendship..."

Lighe clasped his hands over his belly, as if holding himself in. "I am sorry to be such an uncomfortable companion to you, my lord. I shall strive to see what merriment I can find in such a situation as we at present find ourselves, if it will please you. But, I warn you - attempt to kiss me again, and I will kill you, whether it hazard my brother or no."

Dom fetched him the posset. "I understand you well, prince. You may be assured I shall not kiss you, again, until you ask it of me." He put the cup in Lighe's unsteady hands.

Lighe's eyes widened. "Ask you to kiss me? Are you run mad? Never have I permitted a living soul to do so, except my mother and sister - and that only on my cheek. Kiss you?" He shook his head, but that only made the giddiness worse.

He remembered, too, that Leofric had kissed him, and that he had responded by biting the swine, hard, on the lip. A thought occurred to him. He had not bitten Dom. Why had he not bitten Dom? To cover his confusion, he drained the cup.

Dom smiled ruefully. "I think I understand you, Aetheling. And I tell you that a kiss from someone you care for is a blesséd thing, not to be scorned. You will discover that, sooner or later."

He took the empty cup from Lighe's nerveless hands and left the room.

After he had gone, Lighe raised trembling fingers to his lips, and stared at the closed door until Dan returned.

"Are you more yourself, my lord?" the boy whispered, noting Lighe's pale face.

"I am feeling better than I was, I thank you, Dan, but weary. I think I will rest, now."

The chair was large and comfortable, and well supplied with cushions. He closed his eyes, and tucking the fur around his legs, tried to sleep. However, he could still feel the pressure of Dom's arms around his body, and the warm, soft lips on his....

He fell asleep despite himself. The posset had done its work.

Dom walked a little way from the house, further into the vill, where there were several smaller houses than the one in which they were quartered. He was met with deference, and bows and curtseys as he made his way through the place to a group of trees at the farthest end, and here he went into the copse, and sat down, careless of the damp grass, and bowed his head on his knees.

When he had grabbed Lighe ungently in his arms, he had meant, not to kiss him, but to strike him. Then he had looked into those blue eyes, bright with fury, and he fell.

The kiss had been sweet, indeed, sweeter than anything he had before experienced, and he had kissed many men - and some women, to try them.

He ran his hand through his hair. He thought of Lando - he had kissed him, and swived him often - but in Lando there was comfort, not ecstasy. Dom was not in love with his cousin - Dom knew it - and so did Lando. Love and in love were two quite separate things, Dom knew. Lando's body was a happy, familiar place in which to gain release and rest. He had never been in love...

...but Lighe's lips and body, taut and straining under his hands had been none of the gentle things he shared with Lando. Lighe's lips were enough to drive Dom mad, had he stayed longer in the embrace, and the memory of the slim body pressed, though unwillingly, against him, sent heat cascading through all the fibres of Dom's frame, igniting it with a flame he had never before experienced.

For the first time he had caught a glimpse of the passion that drove Leofric beyond the bounds of decency.

His hands, he noticed now, were trembling quite as much as had Lighe's - but Lighe had scorned him, and Dom, seeing that there would be real enmity between them if he did not explain and excuse himself, hoped his reasons - not wholly lies - for doing what he did had proved satisfactory to the Aetheling.

He found that thinking of the episode had made him hard inside his woollen leggings, and as he was out of sight of the village, he reached between the garments and grasped himself in a firm clasp, working his hand desperately on his hard flesh, driving himself into a frantic release. It did not surprise him at all that the name he cried out as he came was "Lighe!"

Lighe, lying comfortably in his drugged sleep was most surprised, when he woke, to find a dampness on his belly and between his legs. He had no clear recollection of what he had dreamt, except for a gentle hand caressing his face. He asked Dan, when he returned, for a damp cloth, and smiled to himself as he wiped the evidence away, thinking at least no woman showed thus that she had dreamt - if, indeed, women dreamt such things - the sort of dream that had caused this.

Very well, from now he would be the best woman he could contrive to be. But, as he handed the soiled cloth to his squire, he knew that thoughts, far from womanly, had invaded his mind. Thoughts of thrusting, hard inside a willing man's body, both of them hot with desire...

He laughed, and Dan stared at his lord, perplexed. But Lighe knew that Dan would not ask what his master found so amusing. It was not his place to do so. Silently the lad took the cloth to the stream, to wash it.

He was puzzled, sometimes, by his master. As he knelt beside the flowing water, he thought of his master's anger at Dom. Why was the Aetheling so hot-tempered with Dom, when the imposture was only pursued to save his life? It seemed odd to Dan. It also seemed odd that he asked no questions of Dom - as to why he was teasing - if he did not like it.

But Lighe ever kept his thoughts to himself. No-one that Dan knew had penetrated his prince's cold exterior; had got anywhere near to broaching his icy heart. The Aetheling rarely became angered - except at Leofric, which was understandable and...at Dom, which was not. Dom, at least, had roused his master to real passion, even if the passion was only rage. Dan grinned. Well, things would resolve themselves, in time, he was sure. He wrung the cloth out, and returned to the house.

******

Two days later they left. Swidwulf had informed them that they were headed for his manor, and that, the long way round.

"You see, my lords, it will be the first place they will think of that you could have gone. And, because of that, Leofric and his cohort will think it not possible that you could have been as stupid as to have gone there. Besides, I have a secret storeroom, well hidden, where you may secrete yourselves if any should approach."

He looked at his son's puzzled face, and grinned. "Aye, lad, a secret storeroom. Well, you would have come to know of it soon enough. You shall inspect it when we come to Aethelstone."

They set off just after dawn on a sunny, but cool morning. Lighe was resolute in refusing the cart, though he did so graciously, remarking, in a low pleasant voice, in front of the goodwife, that today a ride would be most pleasant, if her lord would allow.

Her lord - Dom grinned inwardly - furrowed his brow, and pinched his chin thoughtfully between his long, elegant fingers. "I will gladly take you up before me, my lady," and with that Lighe had to be content, for few well-born ladies rode on a horse without a man to hold her safe upon it.

They had been crossing a brook when Lighe, sitting sideways on in front of Dom, made a discovery. Dom seemed to be acutely aware of of their proximity and was making a distinct effort to lean away so that their bodies barely touched. Such an effort was apparently quite a strain. Lighe smiled to himself.

Dom wishes for humour? Let us see if I can provide it for him.

"Are you quite well, my lord?" he asked in sweet, concerned tones. "I fear you are not yourself. It seems you have the startings of an ague, for you are trembling." He leaned into Dom's chest, and felt the loud beating of the man's heart. He looked up at his 'lord'.

"No...I ...it is no such thing, prince. I...I am cold, merely. I pray you, do not consider it. I am well." Dom was forced to this answer, for he was indeed affected by unruly limbs. The cause of his affliction, however, was no ague, but the pressure of a firm body now pressed close against his, the warm breath caressing his cheek, the touch of dark, silken hair, that look ...

Dom cursed himself inwardly as Lighe spoke again.

"It may be that when we stop to eat, I will find another cloak, or some such garment to cover you, my lord, for you shake even more wildly. I cannot believe you are yourself. Pray let me tend to your comforts, as a good wife should."

There was a laugh in Lighe's voice, which, now they had left the vill, had resumed its manly form. To hear such a voice issuing from a demurely dressed lady would, at another time, have afforded Dom much amusement. But now he was thinking of how he could disguise his arousal from Lighe - and, indeed, from everyone else - when they dismounted to eat.

The threat of being discovered in that state did its work, and Dom was pleased to be able to appear with at least the semblance of calm, as Lighe prepared to dismount, although there was a damp patch inside his garments.

"Will you not lend me your hand, husband? I fear my gown is tangled about my legs."

But as Lighe smiled into Dom's eyes, he saw real distress lying there, and whispered so that none else heard. "Ah! I am sorry, Dom. I shall not tease you more. After all, I complained when you did it to me, did I not? Let us be friends, above all else."

Dom lifted Lighe down, his hands lingering a little longer than was needful, around Lighe's waist. "Friends it shall be," Dom murmured, 'above all else,' although echoing the prince's words caused him a sadness he could not begin to explain.

They slept that night in the open. Although it was cold, it was dry, and they were well provided with clothing and blankets. Dan settled down, his chest to Lighe's back, and his father warming his back. Dom, lying close to Lighe, but not daring to come too close, spent a restless night, and so did Lighe.

It was not that either man was not used to sleeping out of doors, but this night, there was something missing. Something...incomplete. If either man guessed what it was, neither admitted it, not even to himself.

****

They arrived at Swidwulf's manor in the evening of the third day, and by that time all of the company were weary of travelling. Swidwulf bade them all wait hidden within a nearby copse until he returned saying it was clear for them to come in.

The guards left, on their master's business, and Dom, Lighe and Dan climbed the staircase to the master's bedroom, where Swidwulf closed the door quietly, and addressed his son and the two guests.

"I sent word before us that my daughters should return to their husbands. They were kind enough, both of them, to stay here when my dear wife died..." here his voice grew soft, and a dampness appeared in his eyes ..."but I do not wish them tangled up in this fetch. Better they know nothing of it. Cerdic's arm is long...if indeed, he..."

He stopped abruptly, seeing Lighe pale in the candlelight. To know he was hunted was hard for any man. To think his own father was set against him could prove harder still for the Aetheling. "Well, here you must bide until we think of what can be done for you. Dan, put a taper to the remaining candles. I wish to show our visitors the secret storeroom."

Dan, who had been looking around the room, remembering his mother dying in the vast bed set against the wall, roused himself and did as his father asked.

"Now then," said Swidwulf, firmly. "Can you see where the entrance to a storeroom might lie?"

Dom looked about him, as did Lighe. The walls were stone, and the floors thick board. Dan, who had been raised in this house, and knew this room as well as he did his own, had not the remotest idea. Swidwulf permitted himself a short laugh.

"I tell you it is not in plain view. Try to move the bed."

Dom and Dan obediently attempted to push the huge bed, but it seemed it was bolted to the floor. Then Swidwulf pulled out from his pocket a long, thin piece of metal shaped like a letter L, and fitted it into the centre of a decorative flower in one of the bedposts. He turned it twice and it gave a loud click. "Try again," he said. This time the bed moved easily, as if on oiled wheels. There was a wide trap-door underneath which had been totally hidden by the wooden surround of the bed.

Dan pulled at it and saw a ladder reaching down into a large space beneath that seemed filled with chests and other articles. They all peered down into it. "No-one will find you hid down there, my lords. And Dan, you must go there, too, should searchers arrive. Although it might be argued that you quite properly returned here after your master vanished, I do not wish you to be...questioned...on the matter."

He closed the trap-door and slid the bed back into place with one hand. "There must remain, up here, one man to slide the bed back into place, and turn the key - that will be me. I trust no servant with the secret of the bed. They all know it is here, for they see the stuff brought upstairs, but never where it goes. I expect at one time or another many of them have looked for the storeroom - but without the key, the bed will not move. It could never be found by accident."

He nodded to a door in the further wall. "That is where I sleep, on occasion. I will put the lord Siglandus there when his party arrives, which should be before morning. I will make use of one of your sisters' old rooms, Dan, and Emm may sleep in the other, opposite this one. We must all keep close if there needs to be a rush for the hiding place."

"I do not wish any of the servants to see you," he continued, "so I am forbidding them this floor of the house, for the time being. They will obey me, even if they wonder at it. I shall find some excuse..."

He glanced at Dan, and said nothing more. The lad looked pale, and weary, and over-watched. He needed rest. "Dan, come with me, good lad!" his father ordered, and soon there were several more chairs, and another table in the room. Lighe and Dom sat down, and heard similar preparations going on in the adjoining chamber.

Soon Swidwulf came through the door, dusting his hands off on his surcoat. "I will bring you some food and wine. I have a very nice Thasian vintage which is brought here by the Viking traders. You will like it. Dom, you will be familiar with it, I believe, and you, my prince..."

Lighe put up his hand. "It is hardly fair that you should call the Prince of Amiens by his given name, yet not be familiar with me, whom you have known since my birth. Swidwulf. I pray you, I am Lighe."

It was clear to the other three that this change in courtesy did not come easily to the man, but he smiled and tried it. "Lighe" - he tested the sound on his lips, and grinned. Lighe grinned back. "I think, if you persevere, you will find it grows easier in time. Now, I must out of these women's robes..."

Swidwulf shook his head. "I pray you will keep to them, my lord - Lighe. It may be that some servant may stray here, intrigued by the secrecy, or Leofric send men to search the house, who may catch us unaware, and who are not as familiar with your countenance as some. It will not be for much longer. I beg you..."

Lighe nodded. "Very well. It shall be as you say. I am mindful - and grateful - of your care for me. I would not endanger your house or any within it."

Soon they had eaten a good meal of delicately roasted meats and a chicken and pigeon pie, served with soft, white manchets of bread to mop up the gravy. There were hard, winter pears, stewed in wine to cleanse the palate, and curd and ginger tartlets which Dan knew Lighe liked very much.

The wine was very potable, and so reminded Dom of his father's table at Rouen that he must have let his wistfulness show upon his face, for Lighe smiled at him, a soft gentle smile, and cocked his head to one side as if waiting for him to speak.

To shake off his unaccustomed mood, he bethought himself of something he had meant to ask Lighe - something that had pricked at him for some time. He glanced at Lighe across the small round table, and ventured a question.

"Lighe, may I ask you something concerning your brother?"

Lighe returned the frank look, still smiling. "Certainly you may. What is it?"

"Why was it that your father - whom you tell me values Thrydwulf more than you - countenance your brother travelling so far from home in such a poor state of health?

Lighe frowned. "I assure you he was not ill when last I saw him. He was in fine health, and..."

Dom shook his head. "No, Lighe, he cannot have been. He saw our best physicians as soon as he was captured, and they said he had been suffering from the lung rot for many years, and must have been in much pain and distress even before he left home."

"Lung rot? It is not possible, Dom. Before he left on my father's commission, he raced with me across the shoreline dunes at Brightstone, from the Bydon weir to the Sunstone. It is not an easy ride. I was winded for a short time, and I am used to hard riding. But Thrydwulf was not even out of breath. Lung rot? I tell you again, it is not possible!"

Lighe was clearly distressed at the news of his brother's illness. Then a thought, blinding in its intensity, came to Dom.

"Lighe, describe Thrydwulf to me, if you will."

Lighe shook his head, gathering his thoughts. "He is somewhat taller than I - nearly a hands-length. He has hair a little lighter than mine, and shorter - to his shoulders. He has blue eyes like mine, and is well-built and manly in his appearance. He..."

Dom put up his hand, stopping Lighe mid-word. "Lighe, it is not him - it is not the man my father has at Rouen. Nothing like. The man is shorter than am I, and has brown eyes. Those are the relevant details. He could alter many things about his appearance, but not, you will own, his height or the colour of his eyes."

Lighe stared at Dom in horror. "Not Thrydwulf? Not my brother? Then where could he be? Thor's hammer! I understand nothing of it - nothing at all! Are you sure?"

Dom smiled gently at his confounded companion. "I am many things, Lighe, I own, but I am not a fool. The man claiming to be Thrydwulf, son of Cerdic, is as I describe, and has the lung-rot. I did not tell you this before, because I thought it would cause you pain, besides endangering my position here, but the best physicians in the land say he cannot live for many more years."

Lighe rose from his chair and paced in an agitated manner about the room. "Not Thrydwulf! Does my father know it is not he? And where is my brother? Is he safe? I... Dom, I fear for him even more."

Dom gave what Lighe had said some thought. "When I first came to this place, one of the things that struck me - if you will pardon my saying so - was that Cerdic seemed not to care overmuch for either of his sons. The first time I met him, he had to be reminded by your uncle Seaned to ask after him. It seemed to me at the time he did not care..."

"...but now," interrupted Lighe, his fists clenched, "we know it was because he did not fear for his safety. He knew the man your father held was not his son! Such base treachery!"

He sat down abruptly and poured another cup of wine, drinking it down hastily. "Dom, why has the king done these things? What is in his mind? I cannot see it. Have you any notion?"

Dom shrugged his shoulders. "I have several, my prince. If it is reported that the supposed son of Cerdic has died at Rouen of a disease it is well known, here, that he did not suffer, my life is in jeopardy. But how this will aid Cerdic, I cannot say. If he has been hid to keep him safe until you are dead, that is another thought that crosses my mind. Or perhaps he was kidnapped and substituted on the way for reasons we know not."

Lighe raised anguished eyes to Dom. "I...I care for my brother, Dom. I would have him safe."

"Have you given thought that he might be complicit in this plot against you, Aetheling? That he might desire your place as heir to the throne?"

Lighe shook his head. "No, I cannot think it. Unless - until - he is found out to have been involved, my brother retains his high place in my affections."

Fortunate man, Dom thought, wryly. I pray, for Lighe's sake, that he is deserving of such loyalty.

There was a thud on the stairs and Swidwulf was heard shouting orders. Rufe hurried into the room, and said, breathless, "Lando is here, and sick, Lighe...Dom...," he bowed, but swiftly, as Dan's father, with Dan and Emm at his heels, carried Lando through the door.

He was lying unconscious in Swidwulf's arms, his face hot with fever. Dan opened the adjoining door and the group rushed into the other bedroom where Lando was placed gently upon the bed.

Dom went straight to his cousin and held his hand. "What has happened here?" he asked, abruptly.

Emm and Rufe were pulling the gown off Lando's inert form. "He took a fever early this morning and it has taken hold. Dan! Fetch the water and cloths as I asked - Rufe, help him. Be quick, I pray! We must bring this fever down!"

Lighe stood to one side and examined the Prince of Orleans. He looked as sick as any man Lighe had seen. He was laid on his belly and the wound in his back leaked pus. If it was laudable pus - the wound lining coming away, cleansing the wound of impurities - that was a good thing. But if it were not...

Lighe's eyes met Dom's over the inert form, and Lighe felt, for a moment, what a good thing it must be to be cared for in such a fashion.

Emm stood up straight, her hands to her aching back, waiting for the lads to return. Lighe saw her clothing was besmeared with blood and pus, but she took no notice. All her concern was for Lando. Then she saw Lighe's eyes upon her.

"I held him in my arms so that his wound would not touch the straw," she said, her voice hoarse with weariness.

Dom reached out and touched her shoulder. "Do not fret yourself, little maid. I have seen him worse than this, I swear to you," for it was plain to Dom that the girl was truly distressed over Lando's condition.

Swidwulf ordered Emm to retire and bathe herself, and Dan to provide her with some of the spare clothing resting in a chest.

She would have demurred, wishing to stay, had not Lighe said in a very quiet voice, "go, Emm!" To her prince she listened, for he had about him an air of quiet command, and she went from the room as Dom took a wet cloth, and Lighe, a dry one, and they proceeded to cleanse Lando as if he were a sleeping child.

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From:

mews1945.livejournal.com

I love the way the relationship between Lighe and Dom is developing. Such hard-headed young men, they are. And so we now know that Thrydwolf is not the hostage, and Dom's life, as well as Lighe's may be in danger. And poor Lando is sick as well. This has so much suspense it's wonderful.

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Aetheling Nine

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