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soncnicaTitle: But The Storm Is A-Coming 'Cross The Hills Tonight 5/7
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, G, idk
Genre/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Wordcount: cca 2.300 this chapter
Summary: Jared is King Dean Morgan’s knight. He is the one the King calls for whenever torture or punishment has to be done and Jared’s expertise is whipping. Jensen is his next victim. Or is he?
Warnings: Gore, blood, whipping and all that goes along with that, mystery, magic, abuse of history and knighthood, angst?, NO character death, NO disfigurement, hurt!Jensen, h/c.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION. The title comes from a song called A bar in Amsterdam from the band KatzenJammer and does not belong to me.
A/N: I just wanted to write Jared whipping Jensen, is that so bad? Don’t answer that. And well, this is what I came up with. If you decide to read this story, just trust me, I know exactly where I’m going with this. Thank you! And yeah the story is finished and it has around 7 chapters, I'll try to post every few days.
Beta: The ever awesome![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marlowe78</lj>.
CHAPTER 5
The sun was burning, even for so late in the afternoon, scorching hot, making the crowd of people around him seem dizzy and muted, hoarse screams of pain all around him making his skin tight. He couldn’t place the voices to any faces because they were all a mist of fast movement in the corner of his eyes.
He was sweating buckets under his cloak but he wouldn’t dare take it off, for as soon as the sun would set, the air would cool down and the land would lose itself in the frost. Summer days were so hot, sometimes, you could get blisters just from being in the sun for too long, but summer nights were so cold you could get frost bite.
Jared was sure that once Jensen would be healed and ready… the summer would turn into just hot and the nights would turn into just warm.
There was screaming and wailing all around him, flashes of burning arrows shooting like stars near his head - swooshswooshwsoosh - clinks of metal on metal, swords and daggers and yells of defeat. Sounds of bloody swords being pushed through or ripped out of someone’s flesh.
And death. There was death nearby, surrounding him, not as close as it had been when he was ankle deep in mud and blood on battlefields, but close enough that he could still smell it. Death had a certain smell to it, smell of smoke where there was no fire, floating in places where it appeared.
But no man would die under his hands this time. No man would if things went as he imagined them go.
The handle of the whip turned ice cold in his hand, the symbols sighing out tiredly in victory now that their job was done and he rolled it up and put it behind the belt of his pants.
He ran towards Jensen while pulling out a dagger – a sharp, silver thing he got from Jensen on his twelfth birthday – to cut through the rope that was still keeping his friend immobile. There were people fleeing all around the town square, falling like flies under the arrows and swords, but he only had his eyes on one person. Only one human being in all this chaos that he could see through the sweat that ran into his eyes, burning them, the sting of it a pain he welcomed.
He cut the rope; a quick, silent cut.
It fell without noise to the bloody sand and so did Jensen.
Crumbled to his knees like there wasn’t a bone in his body to hold him up, as if Jared had taken them all and stripped Jensen of them as well as his flesh and left him bare for the world to see.
“Jensen!”
He shouted directly in the man’s ear, hoping that just that one word would wake his friend up.
“Jensen!!”
He didn’t know where to touch, what part of Jensen’s body was safe to put his hands on, so he settled them on Jensen’s arms, sat on the floor behind his friend and held those biceps like they were the only part of Jensen’s body and nothing else existed.
He was carefully not touching Jensen’s back with his chest but it was a battle against his own muscles to not let his friend sag against him, a battle he needed to win no matter what. Jensen’s backside was so hot, it felt like he was sitting too close to the kitchen stove and he didn’t want to add more pain to what he had already inflicted today.
“Jensen.”
He whispered while pulling the shirt out of Jensen’s mouth; carefully, slowly with steady fingers that kept slipping through his friend’s spit.
The fabric was soaking wet from Jensen’s saliva, some blood and tears and sweat but when he opened Jensen’s mouth to look at the damage, he could see that the tongue was alright, teeth all there and nothing was bitten through. The vomit spilled out from behind the shirt when he dropped it on the floor and he was grateful that Jensen hadn’t choked on it, that he had been still so conscious that he had lowered his head and just let it all run out of him.
“Good, ‘s good.” He said to himself and took a hold of Jensen’s cheeks that were covered with tears and sweat, cleaning them as best as he could with his bare hands. The face was the only place on his friend’s body he was sure didn’t hurt. Too much.
“Jensen, damn it, wake up!”
The man’s eyes were still closed, lips parted, chest working with shallow breaths and a wheezing sound coming from his mouth.
His pants were soiled with blood and piss and vomit, but they would have to take care of that later.
Because in the chaos that was ruling the square… Jared had only his body and cloak to protect Jensen from anyone coming too close.
He wrapped the cloak around Jensen, shielding him from everything and everyone and whistled through his teeth.
“Hold on, man.”
He whistled again and grinned at the sound of a horse running with all its strength and speed.
The black horse rounded a corner and went straight towards them, mane dancing and tail swinging. It was a sight to behold and it even made some men stop running to look at it.
Impal… people knew the horse, talked about how it was bred in Hell but how Hell didn’t want it because it was too bloodthirsty even for that Godless place, and so it had landed in the hands of their whipping man.
Jared always laughed at such stories, because there wasn’t a horse sweeter and kinder than Impal was. His boy would never even hurt a fly, not on purpose anyway.
“Impal!”
He yelled, making Jensen twitch against his chest, probably the vibrations wiggling their way into his friend.
He gripped the man’s lolling head and raised it up to his eyes, wanting to see if Jensen was with him: “Jensen, you awake?”
No answer from the chapped lips.
“Jensen…”
Impal stopped right in front of them, rising onto his hind legs, begging to be ridden.
“Down! Side!” Jared yelled and the horse turned, showing him his left side, making it easier to lift Jensen up and slide him across the horse’s broad back.
He knew no harm would come to the horse, standing like this in the middle of a battle. No one would dare to even look at it, and shooting an arrow at it?
People were too afraid they’d be dragged to Hell before the horse would even notice he’d been shot.
He climbed up behind Jensen, grabbed hold of the man and then Impal’s reigns and kicked the horses sides, urging him to run.
“Go!!”
Carefully, he bent Jensen forward so his chest was touching the horse’s mane, grabbed his lifeless arms and tried to wrap the cold, motionless fingers around the reigns at Impal’s head. In case Jensen should wake, he’d have something to cling to should Jared be too distracted to tighten his hold at once.
They rode, leaving the chaos that spread through the square behind, leaving the last screams of the people behind and Jared knew they’d never come back here again. They had other things to do.
His heart felt lighter, his hands less shaky. He felt… happy.
Happy.
He hadn’t been happy since… the last time he had seen Jensen.
His hands had been raised up in front of his chest, placating: “You have to stay, Jensen. You have to, alright? There’s,” he took a deep breath, “there’s no ‘no’ here, you understand that? You have to stay, hide yourself until the time’ll come, and I’ll… I’ll go learn.”
Jensen’s eyes crinkled in their corners, a frown disappearing as fast as it had come: “’m not leaving you to go alone to Dean Morgan’s, are you stupid?”
Jared swallowed: “You have to, this land, the people…”
“The people are stupid, the follow just about any fool with a sword, they are like rats, Jared. People are like rats, scavengers… why would I save them? Why would we save them?”
Jared shook his head: “This is your destiny!!! This is our destiny!!”
“No, destiny can go,” he pointed to the lake on his left side, “and drown in the Lash’as … it can go and drown, Jared,” he shook his head “I don’t care.”
“Jensen… are you,” he squinted his eyes and lowered his voice into a whisper, looking at Jensen’s eyes, “scared?”
Jensen shot out “No!” and then seemed to want to sink into the ground, because the answer was too fast and Jared wasn’t an idiot.
“You are,” Jared laughed, “you are actually scared. Of what?”
Jensen was silent for a long time, head hanging heavily down, looking at the small snow-white pebbles of the Lash’as’ shore.
Jared took a step closer: “Hey… what?”
Jensen raised his head and looked directly into Jared and he knew that his eyes made Jensen confess his deepest, darkest secrets if he wanted to or not: “Loosing you… ‘m scared of that. I can’t lose you, you’re my best friend. You…”
“I’ll be there, you know that, right? It’s our destiny. Yours and mine.”
Jensen shook his head: “I don’t care. I don’t… ”
“Jensen, destiny… it doesn’t take no for an answer too well, you and I… we know that.”
“I know…”
“I’ll be there, you know that too. Remember that, okay? I won’t leave you alone. I promise I’ll be there.”
They both stood on the edge of the lake, watching tiny ripples form on the soothingly blue surface.
“’m scared of… the whipping part of all this too.” He whispered onto the floor, flinching.
“Jensen… trust me. The whip… the magic I have in me, even right now… I won’t let you die, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
“How screwed up is this?”
“What? Me having to spill your blood?”
“Yes, that.”
Jared sighed: “I know.”
They rested their eyes on the lake and the mountains for a long time that day, before Jensen cleared his throat and simply said: “Alright.”
Jared stepped closer to his friend and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it: “I’ll be there, just trust me. When the time comes, I’ll be there.”
Jensen nodded: “Shit.”
That had been years ago, when Jared had been able to sneak from the castle for a few days to go get more supplies.
He came back with a new whip and a head full of stories of two heroes, born to save the land from the darkness that had covered it a long time ago. Born to sacrifice themselves for the greater good; Jensen to spill his blood and Jared to be the one to spill it.
The hardest thing he’d had to do that day was leave Jensen alone with the old masters of Lake Lash’as… alone so that Jensen would be able to learn, learn more about his own destiny.
Jared’s plan had been already on its way… from squire to knight, to the King’s whipping man.
It had been all going like it was planned to go from the very beginning of time.
He hadn’t seen Jensen for years upon years; no news of him, no news for ages.
And then he’d heard about Jensen being caught, had seen him in the dungeon and he’d known… destiny had said now.
And now Jensen was with him again. Jensen’s blood had been spilled and he had spilled it, with the right whip and thus setting the plan into motion. No way of stopping it now. No way of stopping the tide.
He pulled himself closer to his friend, wanting to hide him inside himself and never let him go, but he couldn’t. Jensen’s back was an image that would send a grown man screaming and he didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want for Jensen to hurt more than he already did. But he wanted to cover the bleeding flesh from the stinging cut of the wind.
Impal was fast, too fast for his own good, but Jared knew that the horse just wanted to run free and who was he to stop it.
There was a sudden itch at the back of his neck, a sharpness that made him skip a breath, making his hair curl even further and when he chanced a glance behind his back, he saw King Dean Morgan’s head roll off his body.
He turned back around, hiding Jensen deeper into his cloak, deeper into the darkness, wrapping his friend into his heat.
He smiled.
Freedom.
Sure King Dean Morgan was at the very bottom of the darkness that spread through the land, but he being the first to fall...
… it was hope. Hope that others would fall too.
They were almost out of the town, almost to the gates of the town’s wall, when Impal rose on his hind legs and kicked at a man’s head… a man that crossed his path suddenly.
The man was dead before he even saw the horse.
Jared hoped that the man would be the very last innocent life he took. He knew there would be others, but they wouldn’t be innocent.
There was no one guarding the gates, the guards had probably run to the town’s square to help and the gates were open, just waiting for them to ride through.
And they did with as much speed as Impal could give.
Freedom was a white, pebbly road that curled left into the forest and the smell of the woods hit Jared hard on his chest, making him lean forward and grin down at Jensen’s head.
“We made it.”
CHAPTER 4 _II_ CHAPTER 6
Author: soncnica
Rating: R, G, idk
Genre/Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Wordcount: cca 2.300 this chapter
Summary: Jared is King Dean Morgan’s knight. He is the one the King calls for whenever torture or punishment has to be done and Jared’s expertise is whipping. Jensen is his next victim. Or is he?
Warnings: Gore, blood, whipping and all that goes along with that, mystery, magic, abuse of history and knighthood, angst?, NO character death, NO disfigurement, hurt!Jensen, h/c.
Disclaimer: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION. The title comes from a song called A bar in Amsterdam from the band KatzenJammer and does not belong to me.
A/N: I just wanted to write Jared whipping Jensen, is that so bad? Don’t answer that. And well, this is what I came up with. If you decide to read this story, just trust me, I know exactly where I’m going with this. Thank you! And yeah the story is finished and it has around 7 chapters, I'll try to post every few days.
Beta: The ever awesome
marlowe78</lj>.CHAPTER 5
The sun was burning, even for so late in the afternoon, scorching hot, making the crowd of people around him seem dizzy and muted, hoarse screams of pain all around him making his skin tight. He couldn’t place the voices to any faces because they were all a mist of fast movement in the corner of his eyes.
He was sweating buckets under his cloak but he wouldn’t dare take it off, for as soon as the sun would set, the air would cool down and the land would lose itself in the frost. Summer days were so hot, sometimes, you could get blisters just from being in the sun for too long, but summer nights were so cold you could get frost bite.
Jared was sure that once Jensen would be healed and ready… the summer would turn into just hot and the nights would turn into just warm.
There was screaming and wailing all around him, flashes of burning arrows shooting like stars near his head - swooshswooshwsoosh - clinks of metal on metal, swords and daggers and yells of defeat. Sounds of bloody swords being pushed through or ripped out of someone’s flesh.
And death. There was death nearby, surrounding him, not as close as it had been when he was ankle deep in mud and blood on battlefields, but close enough that he could still smell it. Death had a certain smell to it, smell of smoke where there was no fire, floating in places where it appeared.
But no man would die under his hands this time. No man would if things went as he imagined them go.
The handle of the whip turned ice cold in his hand, the symbols sighing out tiredly in victory now that their job was done and he rolled it up and put it behind the belt of his pants.
He ran towards Jensen while pulling out a dagger – a sharp, silver thing he got from Jensen on his twelfth birthday – to cut through the rope that was still keeping his friend immobile. There were people fleeing all around the town square, falling like flies under the arrows and swords, but he only had his eyes on one person. Only one human being in all this chaos that he could see through the sweat that ran into his eyes, burning them, the sting of it a pain he welcomed.
He cut the rope; a quick, silent cut.
It fell without noise to the bloody sand and so did Jensen.
Crumbled to his knees like there wasn’t a bone in his body to hold him up, as if Jared had taken them all and stripped Jensen of them as well as his flesh and left him bare for the world to see.
“Jensen!”
He shouted directly in the man’s ear, hoping that just that one word would wake his friend up.
“Jensen!!”
He didn’t know where to touch, what part of Jensen’s body was safe to put his hands on, so he settled them on Jensen’s arms, sat on the floor behind his friend and held those biceps like they were the only part of Jensen’s body and nothing else existed.
He was carefully not touching Jensen’s back with his chest but it was a battle against his own muscles to not let his friend sag against him, a battle he needed to win no matter what. Jensen’s backside was so hot, it felt like he was sitting too close to the kitchen stove and he didn’t want to add more pain to what he had already inflicted today.
“Jensen.”
He whispered while pulling the shirt out of Jensen’s mouth; carefully, slowly with steady fingers that kept slipping through his friend’s spit.
The fabric was soaking wet from Jensen’s saliva, some blood and tears and sweat but when he opened Jensen’s mouth to look at the damage, he could see that the tongue was alright, teeth all there and nothing was bitten through. The vomit spilled out from behind the shirt when he dropped it on the floor and he was grateful that Jensen hadn’t choked on it, that he had been still so conscious that he had lowered his head and just let it all run out of him.
“Good, ‘s good.” He said to himself and took a hold of Jensen’s cheeks that were covered with tears and sweat, cleaning them as best as he could with his bare hands. The face was the only place on his friend’s body he was sure didn’t hurt. Too much.
“Jensen, damn it, wake up!”
The man’s eyes were still closed, lips parted, chest working with shallow breaths and a wheezing sound coming from his mouth.
His pants were soiled with blood and piss and vomit, but they would have to take care of that later.
Because in the chaos that was ruling the square… Jared had only his body and cloak to protect Jensen from anyone coming too close.
He wrapped the cloak around Jensen, shielding him from everything and everyone and whistled through his teeth.
“Hold on, man.”
He whistled again and grinned at the sound of a horse running with all its strength and speed.
The black horse rounded a corner and went straight towards them, mane dancing and tail swinging. It was a sight to behold and it even made some men stop running to look at it.
Impal… people knew the horse, talked about how it was bred in Hell but how Hell didn’t want it because it was too bloodthirsty even for that Godless place, and so it had landed in the hands of their whipping man.
Jared always laughed at such stories, because there wasn’t a horse sweeter and kinder than Impal was. His boy would never even hurt a fly, not on purpose anyway.
“Impal!”
He yelled, making Jensen twitch against his chest, probably the vibrations wiggling their way into his friend.
He gripped the man’s lolling head and raised it up to his eyes, wanting to see if Jensen was with him: “Jensen, you awake?”
No answer from the chapped lips.
“Jensen…”
Impal stopped right in front of them, rising onto his hind legs, begging to be ridden.
“Down! Side!” Jared yelled and the horse turned, showing him his left side, making it easier to lift Jensen up and slide him across the horse’s broad back.
He knew no harm would come to the horse, standing like this in the middle of a battle. No one would dare to even look at it, and shooting an arrow at it?
People were too afraid they’d be dragged to Hell before the horse would even notice he’d been shot.
He climbed up behind Jensen, grabbed hold of the man and then Impal’s reigns and kicked the horses sides, urging him to run.
“Go!!”
Carefully, he bent Jensen forward so his chest was touching the horse’s mane, grabbed his lifeless arms and tried to wrap the cold, motionless fingers around the reigns at Impal’s head. In case Jensen should wake, he’d have something to cling to should Jared be too distracted to tighten his hold at once.
They rode, leaving the chaos that spread through the square behind, leaving the last screams of the people behind and Jared knew they’d never come back here again. They had other things to do.
His heart felt lighter, his hands less shaky. He felt… happy.
Happy.
He hadn’t been happy since… the last time he had seen Jensen.
His hands had been raised up in front of his chest, placating: “You have to stay, Jensen. You have to, alright? There’s,” he took a deep breath, “there’s no ‘no’ here, you understand that? You have to stay, hide yourself until the time’ll come, and I’ll… I’ll go learn.”
Jensen’s eyes crinkled in their corners, a frown disappearing as fast as it had come: “’m not leaving you to go alone to Dean Morgan’s, are you stupid?”
Jared swallowed: “You have to, this land, the people…”
“The people are stupid, the follow just about any fool with a sword, they are like rats, Jared. People are like rats, scavengers… why would I save them? Why would we save them?”
Jared shook his head: “This is your destiny!!! This is our destiny!!”
“No, destiny can go,” he pointed to the lake on his left side, “and drown in the Lash’as … it can go and drown, Jared,” he shook his head “I don’t care.”
“Jensen… are you,” he squinted his eyes and lowered his voice into a whisper, looking at Jensen’s eyes, “scared?”
Jensen shot out “No!” and then seemed to want to sink into the ground, because the answer was too fast and Jared wasn’t an idiot.
“You are,” Jared laughed, “you are actually scared. Of what?”
Jensen was silent for a long time, head hanging heavily down, looking at the small snow-white pebbles of the Lash’as’ shore.
Jared took a step closer: “Hey… what?”
Jensen raised his head and looked directly into Jared and he knew that his eyes made Jensen confess his deepest, darkest secrets if he wanted to or not: “Loosing you… ‘m scared of that. I can’t lose you, you’re my best friend. You…”
“I’ll be there, you know that, right? It’s our destiny. Yours and mine.”
Jensen shook his head: “I don’t care. I don’t… ”
“Jensen, destiny… it doesn’t take no for an answer too well, you and I… we know that.”
“I know…”
“I’ll be there, you know that too. Remember that, okay? I won’t leave you alone. I promise I’ll be there.”
They both stood on the edge of the lake, watching tiny ripples form on the soothingly blue surface.
“’m scared of… the whipping part of all this too.” He whispered onto the floor, flinching.
“Jensen… trust me. The whip… the magic I have in me, even right now… I won’t let you die, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
“How screwed up is this?”
“What? Me having to spill your blood?”
“Yes, that.”
Jared sighed: “I know.”
They rested their eyes on the lake and the mountains for a long time that day, before Jensen cleared his throat and simply said: “Alright.”
Jared stepped closer to his friend and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it: “I’ll be there, just trust me. When the time comes, I’ll be there.”
Jensen nodded: “Shit.”
That had been years ago, when Jared had been able to sneak from the castle for a few days to go get more supplies.
He came back with a new whip and a head full of stories of two heroes, born to save the land from the darkness that had covered it a long time ago. Born to sacrifice themselves for the greater good; Jensen to spill his blood and Jared to be the one to spill it.
The hardest thing he’d had to do that day was leave Jensen alone with the old masters of Lake Lash’as… alone so that Jensen would be able to learn, learn more about his own destiny.
Jared’s plan had been already on its way… from squire to knight, to the King’s whipping man.
It had been all going like it was planned to go from the very beginning of time.
He hadn’t seen Jensen for years upon years; no news of him, no news for ages.
And then he’d heard about Jensen being caught, had seen him in the dungeon and he’d known… destiny had said now.
And now Jensen was with him again. Jensen’s blood had been spilled and he had spilled it, with the right whip and thus setting the plan into motion. No way of stopping it now. No way of stopping the tide.
He pulled himself closer to his friend, wanting to hide him inside himself and never let him go, but he couldn’t. Jensen’s back was an image that would send a grown man screaming and he didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want for Jensen to hurt more than he already did. But he wanted to cover the bleeding flesh from the stinging cut of the wind.
Impal was fast, too fast for his own good, but Jared knew that the horse just wanted to run free and who was he to stop it.
There was a sudden itch at the back of his neck, a sharpness that made him skip a breath, making his hair curl even further and when he chanced a glance behind his back, he saw King Dean Morgan’s head roll off his body.
He turned back around, hiding Jensen deeper into his cloak, deeper into the darkness, wrapping his friend into his heat.
He smiled.
Freedom.
Sure King Dean Morgan was at the very bottom of the darkness that spread through the land, but he being the first to fall...
… it was hope. Hope that others would fall too.
They were almost out of the town, almost to the gates of the town’s wall, when Impal rose on his hind legs and kicked at a man’s head… a man that crossed his path suddenly.
The man was dead before he even saw the horse.
Jared hoped that the man would be the very last innocent life he took. He knew there would be others, but they wouldn’t be innocent.
There was no one guarding the gates, the guards had probably run to the town’s square to help and the gates were open, just waiting for them to ride through.
And they did with as much speed as Impal could give.
Freedom was a white, pebbly road that curled left into the forest and the smell of the woods hit Jared hard on his chest, making him lean forward and grin down at Jensen’s head.
“We made it.”
CHAPTER 4 _II_ CHAPTER 6
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no subject
Date: 2011-11-11 03:06 pm (UTC)S.