So, bad!fic
Dec. 31st, 2004 06:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
muck_a_luckChapter Title: Chapter 1: Arena
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck
Pairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: PG-13 (to NC-17 in later chapters)
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence. Just stupid.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's ownporno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen. *snortle*
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journal only.
Blame:uisgich, for encouraging me
Suddenly the air was dusty and dry and hot. The stench was foul. Indescribable, within Viggo's experience. With a dreamlike feeling of unreality he realized he was holding a sword, much like Narsil, but heavier, and the grip wasn't quite the same. And the blade was bloody. Covered with blood. And darker matter. In a sort of confused haze he knelt forward and retched, only to find himself in a puddle of whatever various fluids had come out of the gutted body on the ground in front of him.
"Nightmare," he thought. The most horrific and realistic nightmare of his life. He leapt to his feet and spun away, trying to deny the dream image. But all around him were the dead and dying. He looked again at his bloody sword, and wondered if he had killed them.
But there really wasn't any time to think about that now. Months of hard training brought his arm up to block the sword that was crashing down toward his head. He was holding a shield, as well, but Aragorn didn't fight with a sheild and Viggo didn't have a clue what to do with one, so he threw it aside, took his strange blade in both hands, and fought.
It seemed to go on and on. Time stretching out and collapsing nonsensically, as it will in dreams. But then eternity was over. There was hardly anyone left to fight. He was afraid to lower his arms - afraid if he did, he would never lift them again, but as he looked over the battlefield and the bodies of the dead and horns blew and he knew that it was over.
Three other men still stood, widely spread around the huge enclosed space. With the battle ended, his dream reality was opening out and he realized that the deafening noise that he had hardly noticed before wasn't coming from the men still standing. It wasn't coming from the dead on the ground. It was coming from the people above them. Chanting. Stamping. Cheering.
It was all too much. The exhaustion. The reek. The noise. Viggo found that he was sobbing on his knees, fingers locked around the hilt of his weapon. He bowed his head to his hands and tried to wake up.
Then there were hands on his shoulders and a familiar warm voice in his ear. Encouraging him and shaking him. Urging him to get up, stop crying. Viggo opened his eyes and it was Sean. Beautiful and golden. And strangely young.
And covered in blood. Face and hair streaked with it. Bare chest and arms covered with it. Viggo finally let go his sword to reach out and bemusedly touch a bit of grey matter on Sean's face. It was strangely warm and firm. Viggo brushed it away, still feeling the dissociation of nightmare, but feeling more and more forced to acknowledge that it wasn't a dream. That somehow it was real.
"I think you have brain on your face," Viggo said. Sean looked at him closely, then spoke to him softly. The voice was the same. Even the pattern and flow of the words. But they didn't make any sense at all. Viggo's lack of understanding must have shown in his face. Or perhaps Sean had asked him a question and Viggo hadn't answered. In any case, Sean sighed deeply, then with an encouraging smile, said something else that in tone sounded distinctly like "Let's get you on your feet" and wrapped a strong arm around Viggo's waist and hauled him up. To Viggo's surprise, the crowd roared even louder, and he realized he must have created some sort of drama with his collapse.
Barely managing to carry his sword, rather than drag it behind him, he allowed Sean to lead him forward. In the center of the arena, on a platform smeared with the remains of the dead, an elderly man in clean white robes decorated them with wreaths and flowers. The other survivors bowed low, and Viggo followed their example. Then armed guards came to escort them away.
Water and Oil (Unbetaed. Rough draft.)
Author:
muck_a_luckPairing: SB/VM (other pairings in later chapters)
Rating: PG-13 (to NC-17 in later chapters)
Summary: Viggo is somewhere else, where everyone and no one is the same
Content/warnings: AU. Violence. Just stupid.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journal only.
Blame:
uisgich, for encouraging meSuddenly the air was dusty and dry and hot. The stench was foul. Indescribable, within Viggo's experience. With a dreamlike feeling of unreality he realized he was holding a sword, much like Narsil, but heavier, and the grip wasn't quite the same. And the blade was bloody. Covered with blood. And darker matter. In a sort of confused haze he knelt forward and retched, only to find himself in a puddle of whatever various fluids had come out of the gutted body on the ground in front of him.
"Nightmare," he thought. The most horrific and realistic nightmare of his life. He leapt to his feet and spun away, trying to deny the dream image. But all around him were the dead and dying. He looked again at his bloody sword, and wondered if he had killed them.
But there really wasn't any time to think about that now. Months of hard training brought his arm up to block the sword that was crashing down toward his head. He was holding a shield, as well, but Aragorn didn't fight with a sheild and Viggo didn't have a clue what to do with one, so he threw it aside, took his strange blade in both hands, and fought.
It seemed to go on and on. Time stretching out and collapsing nonsensically, as it will in dreams. But then eternity was over. There was hardly anyone left to fight. He was afraid to lower his arms - afraid if he did, he would never lift them again, but as he looked over the battlefield and the bodies of the dead and horns blew and he knew that it was over.
Three other men still stood, widely spread around the huge enclosed space. With the battle ended, his dream reality was opening out and he realized that the deafening noise that he had hardly noticed before wasn't coming from the men still standing. It wasn't coming from the dead on the ground. It was coming from the people above them. Chanting. Stamping. Cheering.
It was all too much. The exhaustion. The reek. The noise. Viggo found that he was sobbing on his knees, fingers locked around the hilt of his weapon. He bowed his head to his hands and tried to wake up.
Then there were hands on his shoulders and a familiar warm voice in his ear. Encouraging him and shaking him. Urging him to get up, stop crying. Viggo opened his eyes and it was Sean. Beautiful and golden. And strangely young.
And covered in blood. Face and hair streaked with it. Bare chest and arms covered with it. Viggo finally let go his sword to reach out and bemusedly touch a bit of grey matter on Sean's face. It was strangely warm and firm. Viggo brushed it away, still feeling the dissociation of nightmare, but feeling more and more forced to acknowledge that it wasn't a dream. That somehow it was real.
"I think you have brain on your face," Viggo said. Sean looked at him closely, then spoke to him softly. The voice was the same. Even the pattern and flow of the words. But they didn't make any sense at all. Viggo's lack of understanding must have shown in his face. Or perhaps Sean had asked him a question and Viggo hadn't answered. In any case, Sean sighed deeply, then with an encouraging smile, said something else that in tone sounded distinctly like "Let's get you on your feet" and wrapped a strong arm around Viggo's waist and hauled him up. To Viggo's surprise, the crowd roared even louder, and he realized he must have created some sort of drama with his collapse.
Barely managing to carry his sword, rather than drag it behind him, he allowed Sean to lead him forward. In the center of the arena, on a platform smeared with the remains of the dead, an elderly man in clean white robes decorated them with wreaths and flowers. The other survivors bowed low, and Viggo followed their example. Then armed guards came to escort them away.
Water and Oil (Unbetaed. Rough draft.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-12-31 12:07 pm (UTC)Want more!! *stomps foot*
Love the way Sean helps him up to the crowd's approval.
This is now officially Gladiator!fic, not bad!fic, got it??
Gladiator!fic it will be, then
Date: 2004-12-31 01:09 pm (UTC)However, I told you this was the part I would actually consider commiting to electrons.
Still, will continue til it is too excruciating to go on. The story in my head spans about 20 years, with Viggo gradually collecting Fellowship members as he goes along. But have a pretty long section here at the beginning put together with him and Sean that might actually be worth at least looking at on the screen.
Other sections that are in the background that I have never developed.
With a long part about 20 years later where someone finally shows up from our reality and recognizes Viggo, only by then Viggo is so committed to his life there that there is all sorts of trauma. THAT is the truly bad!fic section. But who knows? I could play with this first part some, and see if it works, and maybe getting *it* down would help to work through what is really awful about the later part.
Or maybe I could be like Laurel K., and get you so hooked you just take the horrible with the OK... :p
Like your literary icon, btw.
Re: Gladiator!fic it will be, then
Date: 2004-12-31 04:10 pm (UTC)Come on write the next bit down!
Re: Gladiator!fic it will be, then
Date: 2004-12-31 04:22 pm (UTC)Otherwise, have just been helping boss submit LPLI insurance.
Will write more. Any that is readable will be posted either public or Slash OK acess.
All that is unreadable... :p
no subject
Date: 2005-01-30 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-30 11:06 pm (UTC)