Shattered | By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter Nineteen – Nathaniel Conway
It felt good to have armor on again; he could almost fool himself into believing he was a man. Even the orc chatting to his brother as they walked had guessed him for what he really was. The mail he wore was built for someone much bulkier than him; the breastplate wasn’t the only thing rubbing him wrong. Within the too big boots his feet ached. It had started almost instantly but habit made him push on, now that they were starting to think about camping for the night, the pain was almost unbearable. Fear of his brother’s displeasure forced him to remain silent, though his mind argued that it would be okay, his heart wasn’t ready.
“Nathaniel!” The sharp tone of the voice startled him and he glanced over at his sister, stumbling a moment as he’d gone to kneel and caught himself. Concern was written over her tattooed face. “Are you okay, Brother?”
Nodding he saw Foster approaching and his stomach knotted. His brother took off his helm and tossed it over his shoulder, where Skang caught it. Cool gauntlet hands cupped Nathaniel’s face; the fiery sapphire eyes studied him for a long moment. “I love you, Baby Brother,” he said, “are you still with us, what has frightened you so?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, he continued, it felt as if every word had to be forced from his lips. “My … feet … they … I should have … it’s so hard, I’m trying!”
“I know you are, Baby Brother,” Foster said scooped Nathaniel up in his arms and walked him over to a nearby boulder. “I know …” After working on the clasps of the right boot Foster slid it off, his breath caught at the site of the blood soaked sock.
“Don’t be mad,” Nathaniel pleaded, knowing he sounded like a child and hating it.
Sara suddenly appeared beside them and removed the left boot to find the same. Tears of shame fell down Nathaniel’s cheeks as his siblings gently cleaned his feet, the cold water they poured on his open sores caused him to flinch but it was quickly followed by healing salves that closed cuts and dulled the pain. Rummaging through their packs Sara found the moccasins she had made and he slipped them on.
“That small grove over there will do for a camp,” Skang said gestured to a clump of trees. “We have fresh meat in our packs no need to hunt.”
“I’ll go scout,” Nathaniel said standing, his feet ached just slightly.
“No, you won’t,” Skang grunted, handing the helm he held back to Foster. “I know these lands better than you. The three of you set up camp; I’ll make sure we’re in the clear.”
Nathaniel watched the orc wander off and seemly vanish. “A rogue?” he asked.
“Open,” Foster replied and Nathaniel parted his lips. A cool metal touch on his mouth was followed by the welcoming feel of water and he drank heavily from the canteen. “We’re going to need to explain things to Skang,” Foster said pulling the canteen away, “we can’t have you get dehydrated or wait until he sleeps to eat.” Nathaniel frowned as he cheeks reddened. “Or you can try again on your own.” Foster offered him the canteen, the elf took it and stared at it a long moment. “Go on, Baby Brother, you don’t need permission, just take a quick sip.”
Bringing it to his lips Nathaniel titled it up but his jaw locked and cool water spilled down his chin and neck. Shaking his head he wiped his face with the back of his hand, and walked toward the grove.
“Stop,” it was only a whisper but Nathaniel froze. “Take the damn drink,” Foster said, “or the next will come at Skang’s hand, after you explain why the fuck you can’t care for yourself.”
“Brother, stop,” Sara hissed.
Nathaniel knew it was the darkness inside Foster that made him speak with such vile. His hand trembled as he brought the canteen back to his lips. This time they parted and the water fell into his mouth … and sat there. Until he gagged and retched, tossing the canteen aside he continued into the thicket. The heavy footfalls of his brother approached quickly and he braced himself. There was a loud thud, and Nathaniel turned to see Skang had tackled Foster and brought him to the ground.
“Me, Brother,” the orc growled, “take your rage out on me, not the elf … a moment ago you whispered words of love and now your eyes blaze with fury … tell me, Brother, which one of you is broken again?”
The orc went flying as Foster’s dark magic knocked him back, Skang rolled with the attack and stood, duel daggers in his hands. Sara cut off Nathaniel as he went to stop them. “Don’t,” she said taking his arm, “Skang’s right, let them fight it out … we’ll go set up camp, they shouldn’t kill each other.”
Nodding he grabbed the reins of the nervous horse and led it way from the skirmish, and into the coppice. Sounds of fighting could be heard as he and his sister cleared twigs from a small area, saving them to burn later if needed. Rocks they tossed aside until they could spread out a blanket. The canopy of leaves were thick, there would be no need for any manmade roof tonight. After hobbling the horse nearby, Nathaniel gathered up some bigger branches and started a small fire. Sara motioned him over to the blanket and he sat, taking out some bread she broke of a piece.
“Open,” she said. Nathaniel’s lips parted and she placed it in his mouth, “swallow.”
“Foster said …”
“It wasn’t our brother speaking,” she replied, “open.” After a couple bites of bread she tore off a small piece of salted pork and fed him that, she rinsed it down with some water and repeated the process until he was full.
“Thank you, Sis,” Nathaniel said, “think I should go check on them?” The sounds of battle had faded.
“Nah,” Sara replied, as she made herself a sandwich. She held it in one hand and with other slipped off his moccasins. Her free hand massaged his left foot and after the briefest flash of pain, the tired muscles worked out. After she finished her meal she used both hands on his abused feet, rubbing her thumbs deep into his arches. Dazing under her touch Nathaniel laid back and watched the fading sunlight through the branches.
Soft murmuring of voices woke him, he was lying on the blanket with a second one draped over him, the fire crackled in the twilight. Sitting beside the flames were two figures, cloaks pulled up to fight off the chill.
“Go back asleep,” Skang said his voice gruff but gentle. “The journey won’t get any easier, rest while you can.”
Nathaniel sat up and gestured toward the surrounding trees before slipping away to relieve himself. Taking a small victory in the fact he hadn’t asked permission first. Afterwards he returned to the camp to find Skang and Sara arranging the bed. His sister took the side closet to the fire. The orc gestured for Nathaniel to join her and he laid down at her back wrapping a protective arm around her. As Skang tucked a heavy blanket over them both, the light from the fire illuminated his face. His jade skin was bruised, the left eye completely swollen. Nathaniel gasped, “We have salve …”
“No,” Skang said. “I want him to see it for a few days, and remember it could have been you.”
“Where is he?” Nathaniel asked.
“He left to … pacify his hunger,” the orc said. “He said he’ll return before the morn, I’ll take first watch … wake you up in a few hours.”
Nathaniel nodded; he reached out and touched Skang’s cheek gently. “Thank you,” he said.
The orc nodded and stood moving back to the other side of the fire. Nathaniel watched the dancing embers wishing for sleep that came easily to his sister. He was in awe of her bravery, though Vance had raped her she hadn’t lost herself. As if his thought reached her she shuddered his in his arms and he tightened his hold until it passed. Skang sighed. “Come here, elf,” he said.
Frowning Nathaniel slipped out of the blanket and moved over to the orc. He stood in front of Skang uncertain and his hands moved to the hem of the cotton shirt peeking out from his armor.
“Strip …”
The rest was lost to his nightmare, when the screaming stop … his screaming, he found himself sitting in Skang’s lap, one hand firmly clasped over his mouth the other wrapped around him. “Shush … shhh … it’s okay, little one ...”
“What did you do?” Sara hissed.
“He wasn’t sleeping,” the orc said, “I was merely going to suggest he strip out of his mail armor … I chose my wording poorly.”
“He stopped,” Sara said, as her eyes met his. “Hey, Big Brother … welcome back.”
Nathaniel wore his shame and humiliation on his face, and a look of pity crossed her face. “You will conquer your nightmares,” she said
“With time and stability,” Skang agreed. “Fuck, this isn’t the life you need.” The orc picked up a canteen. “Open,” he said, pouring the cool liquid into Nathaniel’s mouth when he opened it. Sara raised an eyebrow and Nathaniel sighed as he swallowed. Skang shrugged and adjusted the elf on his lap, but held him in place. “I was watching knew there was something … try sleeping again, we’ll be crossing into the Wetlands tomorrow, that’s Alliance land we’ll all want to be alert.”
When Nathaniel went to stand, the arm around his waist tightened. “Taking your mail breastplate off,” Skang said, slipping his hand inside the armor he made quick work of the clasps and took it off the elf. Nathaniel shivered a little and the orc reached for a blanket nearby and draped it over his shoulders. “You sleep in your brother’s arms,” Skang said, “Why not give mine a try … you’ll find my embrace warmer, if foreign.”
Nathaniel wanted to argue but was too beaten down and instead adjusted himself and with a sigh tilted his head back so it fell in the nook between shoulder blade and neck. His left arm curled around Skang’s neck and his fingers wrapped in the orc’s thick hair, he wore in a ponytail.
“Why the hair?”
Nathaniel blushed and went to pull his hand away, but the orc snagged his wrist and held it in place. “I don’t mind, just curious.”
Studying the orc’s face in the firelight for a long moment before answering, then it was only a whisper, “I need it,” he said. He prayed that was enough, not sure if could put into the words the strong desire he had to hold onto something tangible while he slept; a life line to reality. Without it, he was afraid he’d be lost forever in the nightmares that plagued him.
“Then leave it,” Skang said, adjusting Nathaniel slightly and pulling the blanket higher. “I’ll wake you in a couple hours to take over for the watch, sleep now.”
Closing his eyes, Nathaniel ran his fingers sleepily through the orc’s hair; the body was broader and slightly shorter than he was used to. Though indeed warmer than his brother’s was now and days.
“I don’t know how you do it, brother,” Skang’s gruff whispered filtered through his dreams, as cool hands grabbed him around the waist. Even mostly asleep he knew the touch of his brother, so was in no hurry to wake up as he was moved from the orc’s lap to Foster’s.
“Habit,” Foster replied. “Started years ago.”
“He’s so light,” Skang said, “no more than a child.”
“His weight is returning, but it’s his race, they are built differently than us. Even if he was in prime shape he wouldn’t weigh much more.”
“He is very endearing while he sleeps,” Skang said, and Nathaniel felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Aye,” Foster agreed, “back … before, when we served together there would be nights I’d watch him sleep …”
Nathaniel raised a hand and pressed it against his brother’s lips, “sleeping,” he whispered, snuggling closer with a sigh. Foster wore his armor still, it was like cuddling steel. And soon after it was another kind of steel he was feeling in his dreams.
“I said fuck yourself, slut.”
Nathaniel looked between the broad sword, whose tip Vance had imbedded into the floor and his master, letting out a small whimper. His body already covered with bruises and cuts from the evil man’s cruel touch.
“If I say it a third time …”
With a cry the elf hurried over to the sword, the best he could, his legs barely able to support him. Quickly placing a leg on either side of the sword he lowered himself, the unyielding hilt of the blade pressed against his abused ass. Vance moved closer to watch, his eyes danced with fanatical power.
“Feels good doesn’t it slut? You love having your ass full.”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel cried, as the cruel man placed his hands on his shoulders and pressed down, holding him in place.
Cold fingers gripped his chin. “Fuck yourself,” Vance whispered and Nathaniel started moving himself up and down on the blade. “Maybe next time I’ll have you do it blade side, you useless piece of flesh.”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel choked on his sobs as he tried desperately to please the man he knew he never could.
There was a loud crash behind him and Nathaniel looked over to see Foster standing in the door. “I love you, Baby Brother,” death marked voice said, and Nathaniel frowned. “I love you, Baby Brother …” the knight repeated again and Vance let out an inhuman screech. Glancing toward his Master he saw a ghoul standing in Death Speaker’s robes. “I love you, Baby Brother, he can never hurt you again … open your eyes, wake up … please …”
Nathaniel awoke with a gasp and a shudder, Foster’s cool lips pressed against his sweat soaked forehead.
“Does he always dream so loudly?” Skang asked.
“This is the first time,” Sara answered, “though to be honest he hasn’t been himself until late.”
“We’ll have to gag him if he keeps it up, especially through Alliance territory, stealth will be very important.” Skang said.
“You are not doing such a thing,” Sara growled.
“I was joking,” Skang replied, “mostly.”
Cold thumbs brushed away the tears that were on his cheeks. “I’d forgotten you could make such noises,” Foster said, “I never want to hear that sound again … I wish I could rip those memories from your mind, Baby Brother.”
“Those memories forge his will, makes him stronger,” Skang said.
“All they do is reinforce what I already know,” Nathaniel said, “want to see how well I can fuck inanimate objects …” the rest of his bitter reply was cut off by a firm hand over his lips.
“Not in front of our Sister,” Foster growled, “damn, I rather you never say that again.”
Nathaniel pulled the hand away. “You’re right, I’m sorry Sis,” he said, “guess I woke up on the wrong side of the lap … let me sleep through my watch?”
“I wasn’t tired,” Foster said, “open.”
Nathaniel’s lips parted and his brother poured in the cold water from the canteen. Afterwards he was fed bits of bacon and bread, as they talked about the day ahead. It felt almost normal except for the constant reminders of “open and swallow”.
Afterwards Skang waved off their attempt to pack up the small camp. “I want to speak to Nathaniel first in private.”
The elf glanced nervously between Foster and Skang; his brother didn’t say anything for a long moment and then asked, “Is that okay with you Baby Brother?”
“No!” Nathaniel thought silently, but the black and swollen eye the orc still wore made him nod his head. At the orc’s request, Nathaniel led him a short distance from camp. After Skang was content with their location, he gestured to a nearby log. “Sit and be quiet, I want you to listen to what I have to say.” Confused, Nathaniel sat down and watched as the orc quickly stripped out of his leather armor, leaving only a small loin cloth on. Nathaniel couldn’t hide his look of panic. “Don’t worry, elf,” the orc said with a smirk, “I’m already spoken for, I will not touch you … unless you ask …” The orc growled, “don’t make that face, what did I just say?” When Nathaniel didn’t answer Skang did, “I won’t touch you … repeat it.”
“You won’t touch me,” Nathaniel said softly.
“Again,” Skang demanded, “like you believe it.”
“You won’t touch me,” Nathaniel said again. The command was repeated and answered twice more before Skang seemed content.
“However,” Skang said kneeling before Nathaniel, “I want you to touch me.” The elf startled and didn’t move. “I was just a kid when my clan was brought to the internment camp. Most of us suffered from the sickness, but that didn’t stop the guards from using me as their personal slut.” Nathaniel flinched at the word. “That was your purpose wasn’t it? How many took you? I lost count after five-hundred, how many cocks were in your ass?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “None, not from the lack of want at the end, he was about to when, my brother found his mind … but plenty of other things … he had a vast collection of toys and when he grew tired of those …”
“What?” Skang pressed.
“Ever had the hilt of a sword in you?” Nathaniel asked bitterly.
“Nah,” the orc said, “they wouldn’t want to wipe the shit off it, broomstick though …” Nathaniel gasped, and studied the orc kneeling before him. Reaching out he traced a scar that ran down the orc’s neck. “Got that one for biting a guardsman’s cock,” Skang said. “What was your command?”
Nathaniel looked confused as he traced a scar down Skang’s left shoulder. “Got that one working on the farm with your brother,” he said. “Ass up, was my command, meant my face in the dirt and my ass ready to be fucked.”
“Present,” Nathaniel whispered his fingers shaking as he traced another scar on Skang’s chest.
“Got that one telling my last fuck to go to hell and then I broke his neck, my uncle, sister and I escaped that night.” The orc looked at Nathaniel, “say it again and again until you can do so without flinching. Own that word; never let it own you again.”
Standing Skang turned slowly letting Nathaniel see the array of scars he wore on his back, including a couple of brands. “They marked us like cattle,” the orc said. Then the loincloth was removed. The elf startled and averted his eyes for a moment before glancing back; the emerald ass had brands burnt into it as well. “Couldn’t sit down for a week after those were put on,” the orc said, “my first escape attempt, I was tied down across a sawhorse and anyone and everyone got to fuck me with whatever they wanted afterwards, whatever hole they wanted. I only lived because I was good at being a slut.”
“How,” Nathaniel whispered. “How can you go on?”
Bending down and picking up the loincloth Skang slipped it on, followed by the rest of his armor. “Because I wasn’t going to let them bastards win, and with the love my Uncle and Sister. Our brother says the words, but he’s incapable of loving you … you must turn to your sister in this journey; distance yourself from Foster; for both of your sakes. This morning while you were lost to your terrors, I woke to the first sounds. Your brother was holding you, he had this look … he was relishing in your discomfort, at least for a moment. Then his humanity returned and he started to wake you. There may come a day when whatever mercy he possesses is lost forever.”
“No,” Nathaniel growled standing, “I will NEVER give up on my brother, our bond is stronger than anything in this life or the afterlife. He brought me back and I will continue being his lifeline back to the Light.”
“Good,” Skang said, nodding and gesturing in the direction they had left the others. “Keep that fire inside you at all times, and remember what I said, own that word. And don’t let the evil deeds of one man dictate how you live your life. I didn’t let hundreds stop me from living.”
“I’m not you,” Nathaniel said softly.
“And bet you’re damn thankful about that,” Skang replied with a smirk. “You’d make one ugly orc.”
Nathaniel smiled but knew it didn’t reach his eyes.
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