Thread: Drowning in Sin (heartlesskitten x Kuro)

Cerdic held is breath, watching with eyes full of pain as Vigi bent to cut between the nerve rich cartilage between his ribs. A roar of pain escaped his mouth and he gripped the fur in his left fist tight enough that his knuckles showed white through the creases of dirt and dried blood. He kept as still as he could but the pain was exquisite, making him close his eyes tightly as he focused not weeping. He would not show weakness before this heathen devil torturing him. The boy, Snorri, put a stick between his teeth and he bit down against it after biting his tongue hard enough to bleed. He looked at the lad with some gratitude before clenching down on the wood, the stick crackling with the force as the healer pushed the hollow tube into his lung. The pain and his exhaustion combined to make his eyes roll back, even as the relief his of his lung expanding and filling with air hit him. Cerdic fainted into blessed unconsciousness. In his sleep, he dreamed. Swirling smoke from villages put to the torch by raiding Norsemen when he had arrived too late with his men. Battles fought against the Danes and the Northumbrians, the vileness men could do to each other and to innocent people. His victories that once filled him with pride, now ashes in his mouth. And worse, he dreamed of the boy. He could see him standing there, just out of his reach, always just out of his reach. His fingers clenched convulsively as he reached for the child in his sleep. Darkness fell and he could see a beautiful pale face, with a mocking smirk that taunted him. See more He woke out of the faint, but kept his eyes closed as the pain throbbed through out his powerful body. He could hear voices speaking above him but he could not understand the words, save for a few. Cerdic was now less than nothing. How far could he fall in this world? First a third born son of a lord, destined to lead his father's men and carry his banner into battle, to live a warrior's life. Then the betrayal, it always came back to that did it not? His own stupid fault and the vipers that nested in his own blood. Stripped and given over to God, he still could not do that right. He could not bow his proud head low enough to accept God's dominion. And now he paid for his stubborn pride yet again. A slave, a lowly worm that would be at the very bottom of the society he was going to become a part of. He deserved no less but he was perversely stubborn and Cerdic could endure much pain, physical pain was nothing to what his deeply hidden scars in his heart could feel. His grey blue eyes fluttered open, and he caught sight of Vigi sitting with his head down. Cerdic swallowed hard, his throat scratching from his screams. Beneath him he could feel the boat rocking forward and back on the waves as the rhythmic thrust of oars pushed them ever farther from the shores of Mercia towards Daneland. He reached up with his left hand and found his silver cross still on his chest, despite his robes being cut away. Cerdic was surprised it was still there, it was a precious item, nearly long as his large palm, inscribed with the fanciful scrolls and knots of his mother's Celtic people. In the center was a cabochon of white crystal, polished to a bright shine. It was on a silver linked chain and he remembered how many times the Abbot had eyed it with avarice despite his own gold and bronze cross, much smaller and tied to a leather thong. He also remembered the cantankerous old man was dead, as were so many of the monks that made their home at the monastery. Hatred built back up in him, like fire catching in a hearth, it warmed him and drove away the pain and loneliness. If anything, he would have his hatred of these men as his constant companion. Cerdic looked at Vigi coolly and spoke in a rasping, deep voice, Did you save your property?