Wraeththu fic as promised...
Jul. 13th, 2006 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sildilOK then here you go chaps, the first part of my little Wraeththu fic.
Title: All the Young Dudes
Author: Sildil
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Angst, teenage sex
Summary: Caeru's secret past
Disclaimer: Caeru and Abrimel, and Pell, belong to Storm Constantine as do her wonderful Wraeththu, Dante and Cai belong to me
All the Young Dudes
“C’roo, C’roo, what’s Septed? I don‘t wanna be Septed, they said I‘d be Septed if I didn‘t do what they wanted!” The small harling ran headlong into the arms of his hostling, sobbing wildly.
Caeru grabbed hold of his son and held him tight, soothing his frantic cries with gentle rocking. “Abrimel, whatever is the matter? Who said what to you? What do you mean?”
Abrimel hiccoughed and sniffed. “They said that if I d..didn’t do what they w..wanted, that they’d get a knife and S..Sept me and then I’d be hu..human and not a h..har. I don’t wanna be Septed, I wanna be a har, I read about h..humans, they were nasty!” The young har began to wail again.
Caeru took hold of his child’s shoulders. “You are Wraeththu, Abrimel, nothing will make you a human, you were born a har, I made you, you came from a pearl that grew inside my body. Whoever has been telling you these stories is wrong. “
“But Jeth said…”
“Jeth knows nothing. He is a second generation harling, and he has no idea what he is talking about. ..”
“…But Jeth…”
“…Abrimel, listen to me. A long time ago the only way humans could become Wraeththu was to be incepted, not ‘Septed’, but that rarely happens now as there aren’t many humans left that could change, and we are lucky in that we can have new, beautiful harlings of our own, just like you.”
Abrimel sat quietly for a moment thinking, and then frowned. “Who was your hostling then C’roo? Jeth’s is Lion and Lion’s hostling is Dill. So, who was yours?”
Caeru smiled. “I haven’t got one Abrimel, I was a human boy once and I was incepted.”
Abrimel stared at his hostling in amazement. “D..did it hurt? Did they use a knife?”
Caeru nodded. “A little…but it was worth it…in the end, as I wouldn’t have been able to have you if I hadn’t been Wraeththu.”
“Where did they cut you, can I see?” said the harling with the bloodthirsty fascination of the child.
Caeru sighed with the eternal patience of the parent and rolled back his sleeve revealing a pale thin scar along his forearm. “There. There it is, my mark of inception. Most hara of my generation will have one somewhere. I expect Dill has one too, but not everyhar wants to remember, so you shouldn’t ask.”
Abrimel nodded seriously. He had learned not to ask questions, living in this strange place with his hostling and a father he rarely saw. “Does Pell…?”
“…No,” Caeru said firmly.
Abrimel snuggled into his hostlings arms and began to suck his thumb. "Tell me about it," he demanded, "tell me about you being a boy."
"It's not really much of a story. I was a boy once and now I am har. I'll tell you another time, you should sleep now."
Abrimel began to protest but it was half hearted and within a few minutes of gentle rocking the harling fell asleep. Caeru lifted him carefully and carried him through to the bedroom, laying him in the centre of the large bed. "Sleep well my sweet prince," he whispered, his voice breaking, and he placed a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead.
*****
Caeru left the nursery and walked swiftly along the corridor to his own private chambers. Anyhar glancing at him would have seen the proud, aloof Tigrina, alone as usual, and would have thought nothing more of it, but anyhar who knew him, really knew him, would have noted his trembling hand and the unsteadiness and haste in his steps. The moment Caeru entered his rooms he slammed the door shut on the rest of the world and drew a shuddering breath. "Oh...my sweet prince...why do I remember you now?" he cried softly. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped away the tears that wet his cheeks and staggered forwards towards a low cabinet against one wall. Caeru took a small gold key from a chain around his neck and unlocked a drawer. It opened smoothly on silent, silky runners, revealing the sparse contents within. There was a cheap, green plastic guitar plectrum, a scribbled list of names, a silver ring shaped like a skull with dark red stones for eyes...and a knife.
*****
Dante was Rue’s best friend. Of course, Caeru’s name back then was Cai and a source of embarrassment to him. In fact the boys’ names were what had drawn the two friends together, the day Cai suffered yet more relentless teasing in the school playground and Dante had butted in and stood up for him. “Leave him alone, I think it’s cool!” he had yelled, shoving the ringleader away from his gang’s tormenting of the slight, white-haired boy. Cai had sniffed, trying not to show that he had been on the verge of tears and gave Dante a grateful, shy smile.
“My name’s Dante…yeah, it sucks doesn’t it? My parents liked some old book I think. I like your name…it’s from King Arthur, isn’t it? I like those stories, about knights and wizards and dragons and stuff, do you? Hey I’ve got a game at home, do you want to play it? ” The dark boy prattled on, putting Cai at ease as he led him away from the rabble of boys. The crowd dispersed as they lost interest in Cai and sought another hapless victim.
Cai stared at his protector and nodded. “I..I think Dante’s a g...good name. It’s cool too,” he whispered and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. “Thanks!” And from that moment the two boys were rarely apart from each other for longer than a night’s sleep.
They played endless, tortuous games involving wizards and dragons and elves throughout their early years, both lost in their own world. “You and me against the monsters, eh Cai? Dante would say with a laugh. Then, when they reached high school and adolescence, their interests changed and broadened, encompassing books, films, and above all music, and they found their release in a different, heady world of garage bands and guitars and CD’s and gigs.
Cai played bass, Dante lead, which was in a way a reflection of their characters, Dante always the one to try new things, Cai always there to support him and catch him when he fell. They were good…as teenage bands go. Both Cai and Dante could bang out a good melody, and so what if Dante’s lyrics verged on the metaphysical, like his namesake’s at times? They were powerful, gutsy and expressed the frustrations and worries of adolescents all through the land in these troubled, frightening times.
To be seen to be different from the crowd, to not wear the same repetitive, unimaginative clothes as everyone else, to want something more from life than a car, a job, a mortgage, became an increasingly dangerous path to walk as the world began to disintegrate outside the fragile borders of the boys’ community. Cai and Dante grew closer still, if such a thing were possible, sitting up late into the night in each other’s bedrooms, sneaking cigarettes and any alcohol they could get their hands on and planning how they would break free of their small town and hit the big cities with their music.
Then disaster struck. The things happening in the north, incidents that until then had been headlines in national newspapers, bulletins on TV, began to be seen in the local news. People would gather round in the stores and at the school gates and mutter about how ‘this used to be such a nice town, such a nice area to raise a family but now that x and y had moved in, things were not the same,’ and so began the exodus away from the suburbs and out into the countryside.
At first Dante and Cai were unaffected, ignorant of their parent’s plans and decisions until very early one morning Dante was dragged out of bed by his mother and told to go and find out what the heck Cai was doing banging on their door so early, before she returned to bed mumbling angrily.
Dante stumbled downstairs yawning and threw open the door. “Cai, what the fuck are you doing? It’s six in the morning! At a WEEKEND! Are you out of your fucking mind?” He dragged his hysterical friend inside and up to his room. “For heaven’s sake, calm down, whatever’s got into you?” he said, pushing Cai down onto the bed and hunting for some cigarettes. He found an old, bent packet and lit the last one for his friend, shoving it into his shaking fingers.
“We’re going away…we’re moving…miles and miles…my dad, he’s got a job…somewhere south I think. Shit, it’s going to be impossible, I won’t be able to see you anymore! Dante…I don’t know what to do,” said Cai blinking back tears.
Dante sat on the bed beside Cai. “Fuck. Give me that cigarette,” he said, taking a deep draw on it and blowing the smoke out with a sigh. He put an arm around Cai’s shoulders and held him close. “Hey…look, we’ll sort something out, I promise. You and me against the monsters, remember? We’ll just have to get the band sorted sooner rather than later and then you can stay here with me, eh?”
Cai nodded and leaned his head on Dante’s shoulder. “Dante…I…what if they make me go with them? What if they won’t let me stay?”
“It’ll be fine, no worries,” Dante replied with all the careless confidence of a fifteen year old boy.
To be continued...
Title: All the Young Dudes
Author: Sildil
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Angst, teenage sex
Summary: Caeru's secret past
Disclaimer: Caeru and Abrimel, and Pell, belong to Storm Constantine as do her wonderful Wraeththu, Dante and Cai belong to me
All the Young Dudes
“C’roo, C’roo, what’s Septed? I don‘t wanna be Septed, they said I‘d be Septed if I didn‘t do what they wanted!” The small harling ran headlong into the arms of his hostling, sobbing wildly.
Caeru grabbed hold of his son and held him tight, soothing his frantic cries with gentle rocking. “Abrimel, whatever is the matter? Who said what to you? What do you mean?”
Abrimel hiccoughed and sniffed. “They said that if I d..didn’t do what they w..wanted, that they’d get a knife and S..Sept me and then I’d be hu..human and not a h..har. I don’t wanna be Septed, I wanna be a har, I read about h..humans, they were nasty!” The young har began to wail again.
Caeru took hold of his child’s shoulders. “You are Wraeththu, Abrimel, nothing will make you a human, you were born a har, I made you, you came from a pearl that grew inside my body. Whoever has been telling you these stories is wrong. “
“But Jeth said…”
“Jeth knows nothing. He is a second generation harling, and he has no idea what he is talking about. ..”
“…But Jeth…”
“…Abrimel, listen to me. A long time ago the only way humans could become Wraeththu was to be incepted, not ‘Septed’, but that rarely happens now as there aren’t many humans left that could change, and we are lucky in that we can have new, beautiful harlings of our own, just like you.”
Abrimel sat quietly for a moment thinking, and then frowned. “Who was your hostling then C’roo? Jeth’s is Lion and Lion’s hostling is Dill. So, who was yours?”
Caeru smiled. “I haven’t got one Abrimel, I was a human boy once and I was incepted.”
Abrimel stared at his hostling in amazement. “D..did it hurt? Did they use a knife?”
Caeru nodded. “A little…but it was worth it…in the end, as I wouldn’t have been able to have you if I hadn’t been Wraeththu.”
“Where did they cut you, can I see?” said the harling with the bloodthirsty fascination of the child.
Caeru sighed with the eternal patience of the parent and rolled back his sleeve revealing a pale thin scar along his forearm. “There. There it is, my mark of inception. Most hara of my generation will have one somewhere. I expect Dill has one too, but not everyhar wants to remember, so you shouldn’t ask.”
Abrimel nodded seriously. He had learned not to ask questions, living in this strange place with his hostling and a father he rarely saw. “Does Pell…?”
“…No,” Caeru said firmly.
Abrimel snuggled into his hostlings arms and began to suck his thumb. "Tell me about it," he demanded, "tell me about you being a boy."
"It's not really much of a story. I was a boy once and now I am har. I'll tell you another time, you should sleep now."
Abrimel began to protest but it was half hearted and within a few minutes of gentle rocking the harling fell asleep. Caeru lifted him carefully and carried him through to the bedroom, laying him in the centre of the large bed. "Sleep well my sweet prince," he whispered, his voice breaking, and he placed a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead.
*****
Caeru left the nursery and walked swiftly along the corridor to his own private chambers. Anyhar glancing at him would have seen the proud, aloof Tigrina, alone as usual, and would have thought nothing more of it, but anyhar who knew him, really knew him, would have noted his trembling hand and the unsteadiness and haste in his steps. The moment Caeru entered his rooms he slammed the door shut on the rest of the world and drew a shuddering breath. "Oh...my sweet prince...why do I remember you now?" he cried softly. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped away the tears that wet his cheeks and staggered forwards towards a low cabinet against one wall. Caeru took a small gold key from a chain around his neck and unlocked a drawer. It opened smoothly on silent, silky runners, revealing the sparse contents within. There was a cheap, green plastic guitar plectrum, a scribbled list of names, a silver ring shaped like a skull with dark red stones for eyes...and a knife.
*****
Dante was Rue’s best friend. Of course, Caeru’s name back then was Cai and a source of embarrassment to him. In fact the boys’ names were what had drawn the two friends together, the day Cai suffered yet more relentless teasing in the school playground and Dante had butted in and stood up for him. “Leave him alone, I think it’s cool!” he had yelled, shoving the ringleader away from his gang’s tormenting of the slight, white-haired boy. Cai had sniffed, trying not to show that he had been on the verge of tears and gave Dante a grateful, shy smile.
“My name’s Dante…yeah, it sucks doesn’t it? My parents liked some old book I think. I like your name…it’s from King Arthur, isn’t it? I like those stories, about knights and wizards and dragons and stuff, do you? Hey I’ve got a game at home, do you want to play it? ” The dark boy prattled on, putting Cai at ease as he led him away from the rabble of boys. The crowd dispersed as they lost interest in Cai and sought another hapless victim.
Cai stared at his protector and nodded. “I..I think Dante’s a g...good name. It’s cool too,” he whispered and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. “Thanks!” And from that moment the two boys were rarely apart from each other for longer than a night’s sleep.
They played endless, tortuous games involving wizards and dragons and elves throughout their early years, both lost in their own world. “You and me against the monsters, eh Cai? Dante would say with a laugh. Then, when they reached high school and adolescence, their interests changed and broadened, encompassing books, films, and above all music, and they found their release in a different, heady world of garage bands and guitars and CD’s and gigs.
Cai played bass, Dante lead, which was in a way a reflection of their characters, Dante always the one to try new things, Cai always there to support him and catch him when he fell. They were good…as teenage bands go. Both Cai and Dante could bang out a good melody, and so what if Dante’s lyrics verged on the metaphysical, like his namesake’s at times? They were powerful, gutsy and expressed the frustrations and worries of adolescents all through the land in these troubled, frightening times.
To be seen to be different from the crowd, to not wear the same repetitive, unimaginative clothes as everyone else, to want something more from life than a car, a job, a mortgage, became an increasingly dangerous path to walk as the world began to disintegrate outside the fragile borders of the boys’ community. Cai and Dante grew closer still, if such a thing were possible, sitting up late into the night in each other’s bedrooms, sneaking cigarettes and any alcohol they could get their hands on and planning how they would break free of their small town and hit the big cities with their music.
Then disaster struck. The things happening in the north, incidents that until then had been headlines in national newspapers, bulletins on TV, began to be seen in the local news. People would gather round in the stores and at the school gates and mutter about how ‘this used to be such a nice town, such a nice area to raise a family but now that x and y had moved in, things were not the same,’ and so began the exodus away from the suburbs and out into the countryside.
At first Dante and Cai were unaffected, ignorant of their parent’s plans and decisions until very early one morning Dante was dragged out of bed by his mother and told to go and find out what the heck Cai was doing banging on their door so early, before she returned to bed mumbling angrily.
Dante stumbled downstairs yawning and threw open the door. “Cai, what the fuck are you doing? It’s six in the morning! At a WEEKEND! Are you out of your fucking mind?” He dragged his hysterical friend inside and up to his room. “For heaven’s sake, calm down, whatever’s got into you?” he said, pushing Cai down onto the bed and hunting for some cigarettes. He found an old, bent packet and lit the last one for his friend, shoving it into his shaking fingers.
“We’re going away…we’re moving…miles and miles…my dad, he’s got a job…somewhere south I think. Shit, it’s going to be impossible, I won’t be able to see you anymore! Dante…I don’t know what to do,” said Cai blinking back tears.
Dante sat on the bed beside Cai. “Fuck. Give me that cigarette,” he said, taking a deep draw on it and blowing the smoke out with a sigh. He put an arm around Cai’s shoulders and held him close. “Hey…look, we’ll sort something out, I promise. You and me against the monsters, remember? We’ll just have to get the band sorted sooner rather than later and then you can stay here with me, eh?”
Cai nodded and leaned his head on Dante’s shoulder. “Dante…I…what if they make me go with them? What if they won’t let me stay?”
“It’ll be fine, no worries,” Dante replied with all the careless confidence of a fifteen year old boy.
To be continued...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-07-13 08:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-13 08:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-13 10:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-14 10:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-14 08:37 am (UTC)I'll bet it's great, Sil. Really. I just haven't read the books yet so I have no frame of reference. Me bad. Sigh...
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Date: 2006-07-14 10:42 am (UTC)