naughty_fae (naughty_fae) wrote in bloodclaim,

Flesh & Blood

Title: Flesh & Blood (An S/X adaptation of the Rutger Hauer movie of the same name)

Warnings: HAU, M/M sex, rape, violence, vague non graphic mentions of het sex, swearing, angst, harsh themes, mild Sub/Dom. OOC, varying chapter lengths, Unbeta'd, blatant use of movie dialogue.
Rating: NC17 Throughout
Pairing: 100% S/X
Author: Naughty_Fae
Comments: Comment if you want to, though it would be nice to know someone is reading it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to someone who is not me. I write for fun not profit.

Note1: This is Europe in 1501. Times and people were harsh. Life was cheap and plague rife. This is not a cuddly story and Spike is not a cuddly character. Some might find his treatment of Xander, questionable.

Note 2: My heartfelt thanks go out to my dear friend Bmblbee, for holding my hand through the writing and posting process. *Hugs*

Note 3: This is a plot driven story. What sex there is happens in the natural course of the plot and as part of Spike and Xander's relationship.

Note 4: This is a human/medieval Spike and Xander expect them to behave as such.

Summary: When Prince Rupert is usurped and ousted from his city, he lays siege. He decides to use a group of wandering mercenaries led by the charismatic but dangerous Spike to supplement his army. When he goes back on his word to allow the mercenaries 24 hours free hand to loot the City unopposed, Spike plots revenge. Unfortunately it is Rupert's 18 year old, scholarly son Xander who must pay the price.

Chapter 15/26 + Epilogue

Rating: NC17

Chapter: 15/26 + Epilogue

Rating NC17 Throughout

A/N: The Fae does not subscribe to the theory that Xander would form an attachment to Spike simply because it's Spike, nor that it is logical for Xander to fall in love with his rapist/captor. However Stockholm Syndrome is very real and it is offered as an initial reason for Xander's emotional shift toward Spike:

'The Stockholm Syndrome is a psychological shift that occurs in captives when they are threatened gravely but shown acts of kindness by their captors. Captives who exhibit the syndrome tend to sympathize with and think highly of their captors, at times believing that the captors are showing them favor stemming from inherent kindness. Such captives fail to recognize that their captors' choices are essentially self-serving. When subjected to captivity, these captives can develop a strong bond with their captors, in some cases including a sexual interest.'

Spike lay on his belly, his chin resting on his folded arms and his I eyes closed getting hedonistic pleasure from the large, four posted bed. He wallowed in the comfort of the feather mattress and deep, downy pillows and the linen sheets under his body and gathered across his hips. Xander lounged naked on his side facing him, supported on one elbow. With the fingers of the other hand he lightly traced the silver lattice work that criss crossed the pale back and disappeared beneath the linen sheet. Spike's skin tingled at the soft, warm touch and the pale light of dawn shone through the window and pirouetted across the walls.

Xander spoke quietly. "Will you still let me go?" Spike chuckled lazily without opening his eyes. "Yes of course you're the bloody ransom." The fingers stilled. "What if my father won't pay?" Spike opened his eyes and looked at the boy. "He'll pay, " He replied confidently. "you're his only child, his heir, his shot at immortality. If you'd had a brother or even a sister I'd have said probably not." It seemed inconceivable to Spike that Rupert wouldn't pay, even if he were willing to risk the boy it was unlikely he would risk his only heir. Xander's whole hand rested on his back and seemed to sear his skin with it's touch. "What if I said I didn't want to go back, that I want to stay with you?"

Angelus rode at the head the soldiers, the Prince riding by his side and they set a good pace. Father Daniel had dropped back a little in the wagon as the terrain got more rocky. Angelus was confident that they were headed in the right direction but had no idea how far ahead the mercenaries were, suddenly something on the ground in the far distance caught his eye. He reined in his horse and squinted.

Rupert over shot and rode back. "Damn it Angelus, why have we stopped?" He snapped. "There's something over there," he nodded. " on the ground, a movement." The Prince looked. "I don't see a damned thing, you're wasting time Captain!" Angelus ignored him and looked harder. "There it is again, a movement.!" Before the Prince had time to object Angelus was galloping toward what he'd seen.

The child was no more than eight, a little girl dressed in a pale, tattered and torn night gown. She was slender with long, dark hair. Her legs, bare feet and hands scratched and her knees torn . Angelus vaulted from his horse and grabbed his water bottle. The girl shielded her eyes from the sun with her arm. "Devils, devils came," she wheezed and murmured as Angelus raised her up and pressed the water bottle to her lips. "We're not devils child," he spoke quietly. " we'll help you." She coughed and gasped for breath. "Devils, in the chimney, " she rasped. "the devils from the chimney, killed them all." Rupert circled. "What's she raving about?"

Angelus shrugged. "Fetch Father Daniel, quickly." He called, still cradling the child. "Devils, killed, dev...." Her voice died away.

"Make way, make way!" Father Daniel pushed through. Angelus looked up sadly. "It's too late Father, she's dead." The men crossed themselves. He laid her down gently and stood, taking a swig from his water bottle. "The ravings of some delirious peasant girl," The Prince retorted. " we've wasted enough time Captain!" Angelus swung into the saddle. "By your leave Sir, use your eyes." He bit back. "That's no peasant girl in a silk nightshift and wearing a gold cross. She was in bed when something tossed her out into the night. She's pretty torn up, but she hasn't come far, not more than one or two miles. My guess, if we back track in the direction she was coming from we'll find a castle, an ideal place for Spike to wait for us to find him."

Rupert huffed. He wasn't used to being spoken to in such an insolent manner but now was not the time to take it up with this oaf. He nodded. "Lead on Captain."

Angelus started to track along the way the girl had come. "Two men stay behind with Father Daniel." He called over his shoulder. "Give her a Christian burial Father." Father Daniel watched them ride away and then went to the cart to fetch a piece of linen in which to wrap the body. He laid the girl out and rolled her onto the linen. He stopped. The underarm of her nightshift was discolored and damp and a little bloody. He took a knife and cut a small opening. He jumped back at the sight of the swollen lump, oozing pus and blood, he quickly crossed himself. "God have mercy, it's the Plague."

It was a bright morning and the mercenaries decided to take breakfast sunning themselves on the battlements. The servants struggled up the steps with a wooden trestle table and then the servants carried up plates of cheese, fruit, bread and carafes of wine, ale and water up to the battlements and set them on the table as the mercenaries ordered. The mercenaries lounged around enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun eating and drinking their fill. Darla was draped bare breasted over both Lindsey and Forest, Drusilla lounged against Gunn and he fed her grapes, Willow sat with Jonathan and watched as Andrew tried to strum a tune on a Gittern. Darla looked up. "Well will you fucking look at that." All eyes turned to watch as Spike and Xander crossed the courtyard and climbed the steps to the battlements. "Goddamn it, he's in white." Forest growled. Gunn shrugged. "So what? Spike's the leader, he can wear what he likes."

Spike climbed the steps, towing a sullen, sulky looking Xander by the hand. He was dressed in the white and silver outfit and wearing a heavy, gold chain round his neck, hair swept back. Xander was in white except for the brown and white doublet. Spike squinted at the sun. "Morning everyone, beautiful day." He sat next to Gunn pulling Xander down beside him and then slipped his arms round his waist. Lindsey studied them, Spike felt his scrutiny and looked at him. "Something wrong Lindsey?"

Lindsey scowled. "Isn't white a little fancy?" Spike snorted. "The other stuff's dirty." He replied flatly. "Anything else?"

"It's like you're not one of us any more." Lindsey persisted. Spike gave a small smile. "I am and I'm not. This castle and everything in it belongs to us. I am more like I always wanted to be."

"Except you're about twenty years too fucking late!" Darla retorted. The general laughter eased the tension, but Lindsey kept watching both Spike and Xander closely. Spike mimicked Gunn, taking some grapes for himself and then giving some to Xander, when the boy turned his head away Spike squeezed him hard enough to make him gasp and raised an eyebrow, obediently Xander plucked the grapes from his fingers with his lips.

Suddenly a lookout shouted. "Horsemen, horses approaching!"

"Down, everyone down out of sight." Spike commanded.

*Gittern an early form of guitar

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