Chapter Text
Hans was lying alone on the bed. It had been three weeks now, and he had no news about Henry. He was dead, certainly. The love of his life was dead and Hans never said to him how much he cared for him. The thought made his stomach turn, and his skin crawl
He was lost, and didn`t know what to do. Maybe he should be considering joining him, although the idea of dying scares him quite a lot. Where would someone like him end up?
Heaven?
No, not even purgatory. He knew his mind had sinned, even though he never acted upon it. He could not repent for his thoughts, for his love.
Still, he still had a small hope that refused to be extinguished, a hope that helped him to go on, since no news had come to confirm his theory. Surely Von Bergow would have had the decency of telling him that his page was dead right?
His thoughts got interrupted by some screams in the courtyard.
“WHO, WHO SPEAK” it was Erik`s voice. Hans had spoken to him quite a lot in the last weeks, and the guy was the definition of moderation. He always kept his voice under control and never let emotions betray him. Screaming like that was something that Hans had never expected him to do, so, with two long and curious steps he reached the window, his eyes capturing the scene.
The messenger spoke with a low and scared voice, but his ears trained for hunting managed to capture “Kobyla`s bastard ” and that was enough for Hans.
“I swear, by everything that is holy, I will find that whoreson, and I will rip out his heart.”
Hans heard it loud and clear. Henry was alive! There was still hope to be had! His fingers were shaking with joy and his breath hitched painfully with happiness, he felt all the energy and emotions crush him after days of complete apathy.
Time passed quickly and around one hour later, the door swung open. It was Erik, dark eyes and pupils dilated in something dangerous that tended to sadness. He entered slowly, like a wolf that does not want to scare his prey and closed the door behind him. Hans flinched at the snap of the door, his mind telling him that something bad was about to happen but his face was unable, as always, to hide the excitement that still flushed his senses.
“Judging by your face I presume you know about the big news” Erik`s voice was calm and controlled, familiar to Hans. Despite being of two opposite factions, they had treated each other with respect and spent quite a lot of time together, during the daily excursions that Von Bergow allowed Hans to have and at some dinners with company, where Erik was sent to check if Hans was doing alright and not planning to escape.
Hans didn`t answer, instead, he shallowed hard. He had a bad feeling about this.
On the first days at Maleshov, he had been blaming Erik for Henry`s possible death. After the first week passed though, he started blaming himself. Afterall, he was the one that made everyone camp by the pond, it was all his fault. If Henry had lead the expedition, they would have been home by now.
“Happy that your blacksmith is well and alive eh?”
Besides, Erik was the only person he could speak to, and even in grief, Hans couldn`t keep his mouth shut. He admired Erik for the authority he emanated, unlike Hans that struggled being taken seriously despite his title and tried to no avail to imitate it. They had spoken a lot during the past weeks, and even if the bigger man avoided the topic, Hans understood quite clearly his devotion for his lord.
Hans had to say something, quickly. When Erik asked something, he didn`t accept silence as an answer. He fought the panic back and said the first thing that came to his mind, Erik could not hurt him anyway, he was a precious hostage.
“Aye, unlike Istvan apparently”
He fought the urge to cover his mouth. How could he be so cruel in a situation like this?
Erik had lost the only person he cared about, he probably felt like him when he thought Henry had died. He was the only one to understand him, the only one he could speak to, the only one that knew the depth of his love for Henry, but what was he supposed to do when it was Henry who killed the love of Erik`s life, be sad and sorry about it?
Erik`s hands closed into fists and started trembling. “Do not say His name” he mumbled with a low voice. Hans had a terrible feeling about this.
“I swore that I would rip his heart apart in the courtyard”
Silence followed
He took a step in Hans`s direction. Hans would gladly accept a slap after what he said, he deserved it, but from what Erik had implied it was clear to him that this was not going to end with just a slap.
“Wha- what do you mean?! You can`t kill me, I`m a nobleman!” Hans was absolutely terrified about what was coming next. Erik was a beast, considerably higher and thicker than him. If they were going to have a fight, Hans would absolutely have no chance to win it.
“I know your value alive, my lord ” the my lord was said with so much disgust that Hans physically shivered from it.
Erik reached the nobleman`s direction with two fast steps and easily got hold of both of his wrists.
Hans laughed anxiously, he already felt too trapped.
“Come on Erik, we- we are friends, you can`t harm me” His voice was insecure and hysterical, but he meant it. He considered that man a friend, or at least, someone he could trust in the den of vipers where they laid.
Then a thought hit him. Erik didn`t mean to kill him, but to nullify him or something. In what way could he do it? He had too few time for torture, so when a knee parted his weak legs he realized something. Erik was a sodomite, he already had sex with a man before.
Was he about to get raped?
Hans tried to scream, but the only thing that came out from his mouth was a pathetic, suffocated sound. Erik threw him on the bed, his hands heavily gripping his wrists. Hans wriggled as hard as he could and managed to free his left wrists, but Erik`s weight between his tights and on his torso pinned him down regardless where his hands stayed. He tried punching and scratching with the free hand, but it was eventually captured by the big hand, while the man on the nobleman grinded shamelessly on his crotch, hoping that the friction would get him hard enough for penetration.
Hans panicked, feeling trapped under the stones of Nebakov all over again and started hyperventilating. The grinding was not pleasurable at all, Erik`s weight on him was too much and it just stole more air from his lungs .
The brute had to let go of the nobleman`s hands and wrestled to take down Hans`s hose, while Hans was trying desperately to defend it, fully understanding what Erik was trying to do now. In the end, Erik won, digging his nails in the skin of Hans`s waist, until blood came out of it.
The underpants reached the knees joining the hose, and Hans acknowledged with shame that he was now bare.
One of Erik`s hands returned to Hans wrists, pinning them down once more while his body pressed even harder between the nobleman`s tights, preventing him from moving his legs at all. His free hand roamed between the tights, finally reaching Hans`s entrance.
“Why didn`t you scream ? ” He whispered to his ear not in mockery but as a genuine question, and despite everything, Hans felt some sadness in his tone. Erik was really going to do all of this just for revenge. Capon squinted his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
“Please, don`t do it” It was the last prayer before the inevitable, but it was said with a faint voice, too faint for Erik to hear.
Erik looked at him, waiting for him to say something louder, but the screams that Hans attempted to do were just weak whines, similar to a dying animal`s. No guard was going to rescue him, no one would ever hear him like that.
The man on top sighted, as if he expected Hans to stop him in some way. What was Hans even supposed to do?! His throat was clogged and he could not wriggle away from the grasp that had him still.
Erik`s fingers entered abruptly, three of them and at the same time, with the scope of creating as much pain as possible. He couldn`t get hard just on the moment, so this was the best alternative.
Hans felt the air leaving his lungs. He was trapped under the weight of that brute, he couldn`t move at all, except for his hips, which he tried to bob in the opposite direction of the fingers, to pull them out. His efforts were worthless, because that sort of a fight made Erik move even deeper, reaching points Hans had never reached before by himself, during those few times he let himself imagine that his fingers were someone else`s.
The air filled with filthy sound of skin against skin, very different from when Hans fucked some wench, more violent and ruthless.
The fingers were way bigger than his, and he felt as if he was getting torn apart by a sword. Apart from desperately trying to move his hips, the only thing he could do was turn his head around and dissociate, even if he failed miserably, feeling all of it and remaining extremely conscious of the foreign objects inside his body.
In the meantime, Erik decided to make good use of his mouth and bit his neck at various points, drawing blood here and there, provoking more desperate and pained moans from his prey.
Erik wanted to leave scars, he wanted Henry to see what had become of his lord and to despise himself because he could not save him. If the two of them were really as similar as Istvan said, then that would be the greatest punishment.
The thought of his dead lord sent in his body a wave of sadness. He was dead, killed by a peasant God knows how. He remembered their last conversation, how he held his face so dearly. What would he give for the possibility of saying him goodbye, or just for seeing his sweet brown eyes one more time. He gripped the wrists harder, provoking a weak yelp from the man under him.
Blood spilled from Hans`s anus, a gory imitation of the loss of virginity as those fingers ravaged him, moving with violent motions hammering inside him. The nobleman realized he had been crying for the whole time like a fuckign woman when he turned his head and saw the humid stain next to his face and felt his cheeks wet. He was emitting a mix of whines and desperate moans when the middle finger hit a spot deep inside Hans, and for a second, all the pain was diluted, his body clutched to the pleasure it received and before the man could stop it, a pleasured moan escaped him.
The realization that his body was starting to enjoy it hit him like a punch and, as always, his mind had become his enemy. Despite everything, he was liking it, he was fucking liking to be ravaged like this. This was not normal, he was not normal, and for everything he was, he deserved this, for his feelings for another man, for everything he had done in his past, the fact that his existence alone was an insult to God.
He
Fucking
Deserved
It
Before he could indulge in any more self loathing, he felt his entrance getting emptied again. His hole clenched involuntarily at the sudden emptiness. Relief hit him leaving space for nothing else, and for a few seconds he hoped that nothing more would happen, that Erik would just leave him in his filth and close the door on his way out.
However, the sensation did not last long when he realized that Erik was about to go all the way in.
The brute was sliding his hose to his knees, freeing his half hard member.
“Please” He said with a faint voice
“No more”
Erik looked at him with pity and sorrow with his lucid, round eyes.
Please, everything but pity.
He could manage to get violated like this by someone angry and hateful, but Erik looked like he was the one pinned on the bed. Had he also been crying like him? Could he not see that his doing was hurting both of them? Hans could not handle it, was he the one forcing Erik to do this? Unlike Hans, he never moaned or showed any signs of pleasure, apart from his hard member, that is.
Hans cried even harder, tears offuscating his view, he childishly slammed repeatedly his head on the mattress, his mouth parted in an ugly shape, emitting some animalistic laments.
Erik watched him while he pumped his member into hardness. It was a truly pitiful sight.
”Istvan would not want this” Hans managed to say after interminable minutes of desperation.
He said with a wavering voice. He knew he was right, remembering what Erik had told him the night before. He was speaking about how Istvan was a considerate man when he could, and that the thing that he despised most of all was rape. He remembered Erik chucklig when telling Hans a story about when his lord killed a cuman that was about to rape a girl.
“Istvan died because he was too gentle”
Erik`s voice was hoarse from pain, at the same time filled with tears and angry. He knew Hans had done nothing wrong, and he felt worse than shit for what he was doing, but he needed Henry to pay and seeing his dear lord annihilated would be a punishment that would satisfy his thirst for revenge, or so he thought. From what Hans had told him the past days ,Henry cared a lot about him, so, if he wanted to do some damage, the right place to start would have been from the noble.
Hans lifted his head enough to bite Erik`s nose, or at least do some damage, but the brute shifted at the last second, leaving Hans to bite air. He was not a woman, someone who could be taken advantage of so easily. He was a man, a nobleman, why was this happening to him? Before anyone could come to his aid, Erik shoved his massive and barely hard member inside the abused hole.
Hans, in fact, could be taken advantage of very easily.
The air in the nobleman`s lungs left him completely and he started gasping for more. Erik was cruel, his pushes driven by anger. Hans could feel the skin of his hole peeling off completely. He felt like he was being impaled, and the friction remained despite the blood that was lubrificating his insides. He tried to beg for Erik to slow down, with the conviction that if he continued all his insides would spill from his hole, killing him, but he managed to say just a few confused syllables. He hated it, he felt so much pain that almost made him forget the humiliation, but even then, when the pushes intensified and Erik emptied himself in him, he could not be able to hold back a pleasured moan.
Was he really enjoying it despite everything? The self loathing he felt after that moan was enough to make him want to end his life there and now. Even hell was a more desirable place than this.
“Why are you even liking this?” Erik's words were twisting the knife even more. He knew he hit the sweet spot inside the other man, but he expected that in a situation like this the body would just feel the pain and not the small pleasures that it received.
With his free hand, Erik began pumping Hans`s cock with experience, making him go hard after just a few squeezes despite the situation.
In his mind twisted with pain he realized something: the most efficient way to break the man under him would be making him think he liked and deserved it. Oh, how Henry would feel knowing what Hans had become. He would prefer the death of his lord over whatever Hans was becoming. At least Istvan died with honour and dignity like a man should, not crying and full of sperm like a bitch.
Hans realized what was happening to his body despite his will, and tried to free himself from Erik with an inhumane desperation, but the result was pitiful. He was feeling dreadful after the first moan from when Erik came into him , now that he was reduced to whimpers and groans full of pleasure mixed with pain he didn`t know how to describe his feelings for himself anymore.
The brute started thrusting in again, as if he wanted to push his spending even deeper in Hans, hitting a spot that made the nobleman burst shamelessly on his own belly, moaning like one of the many wenches he fucked in his life.
Did he just… cummed? Did he really find so much pleasure in Erik fucking him?
...
…..
The realization that his body enjoyed it so much made his stomach twist even more, he felt disgusting. If anyone ever discovered what had happened to him he could not even defend himself by saying that he didn`t want it, because the evidence was right on his belly.
Hans stayed silent, except for some whines his body (or his mind) involuntarily produced. He had not the will to say anything, even if he wanted to. His throat was sore from the screams and the moans, plus, he felt like something was preventing any voluntary sound to exit him.
“You`ll be shitting me for weeks.” said Erik with an amused tone. He was forcing the amusement, not wanting his voice to betray the guilt that was forming despite knowing that Hans could not pay attention to those details now.
He watched Hans in silence, hips still thrusting in him mercilessly, but with a slower rhythm.
He had to admit that the noble was beautiful. His harmonic face flushed with tears, his empty red rimmed eyes; those impossibly sky blue pupils that rolled back, uncaring of what Hans wanted every time Erik put pressure on the pleasure spot inside of him. His hairs seemed golden lush grass, disheveled, attached to the sweaty forehead and covering part of his right eye.
The man was avoiding to stare him in the eyes, with what seemed fear at first glance but Erik realized after a couple more thrusts that it was shame. Shame to watch his aggressor and moan to his face, to face the fact that he came from the pleasure that being violated brought him.
His mouth was closed in a melancholic pout, lips trapped by his teeth with enough force to draw blood. But even like this, filthy sounds were coming quietly out of his mouth.
He was the picture of acceptance. It seemed like he was not trying to fight anymore, and something in Erik broke: what had he done. The joyful man that even in grief joked and hoped had been reduced in not even an hour to this piece of meat, accepting and mindless, fucked till stupidity by him.
He wanted to scream.
***
The door opened abruptly, letting in a soldier, Jakub was his name, who, realizing what was happening, took a panicked grip of Erik`s elbow, who immediately pulled out the nobleman with a wet plop.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?! He is a nobleman for fuck`s sake, you can`t just”
He looked at Hans and when he realized, his face took a terrible shape of pity.
”rape him” His tone was lower, as if he was unsure of what had happened despite the evidence.
Hans immediately pulled up his hose and curled up, not facing them directly.
Erik ignored the soldier, and with his blood coated prick still dangling he turned toward Hans:
He watched him with confusion, like it was only now that he realized the consequences of his actions. He had had his revenge, but Istvan would despise him if he knew. Hans had done nothing to deserve this, he just cared for someone, but still, he got sucked in the spiral and suffered the worst of the indignities.
“I`m- I'm sorry “ Erik did not know who he was asking forgiveness to. Hans was not listening, lost in his misery, and even if he was, why the hell would he ever forgive him? The soldier could not care less and probably would tell what Erik had done to his friends at the tavern this evening. God? If there even was a God, he would go to hell for sure, there was no coming back from this. He had sullied one of God`s brightest creatures with his anger and he deserved the eternal flame.
He then realized: he was asking sorry to Istvan, he was asking for forgiveness because he committed such a vile act in his name, despite knowing it was unjust. He was asking for something that would never come.
Istvan was dead and there was no coming back from it.
Hans`s ears caught the phrase, but he didn`t understand it. He felt dazed now, unable to think, unable to understand what was being said. He was focusing on his body, on how it felt foreign to him. He could still feel a mix of liquids coming out of his hole, the sticky sensation of his own sperm on his stomach, the pressure that was before applied to his wrists and so on…
Erik`s gaze was fixed on Hans, and he was oh-so-thanful when he felt Jakub`s grip.
They turned around and left the room.
Hans was no longer crying, having finished all the tears he had, but he was still shivering and a wave of nausea hit him, making him vomit God knows what next to the bed. He felt a burning self loathing and remained on the bed for an undefined amount of time.
It took a lot of will power to stand up and stare at his poor naked body in the mirror. He wanted to see what had become of him.
It was a dreadful sight.
He once had been proud of his own body, strong and confident, just like a real knight`s. Now it was just a joke.
He had refused most of Von Bergow`s food out of grief when he had the almost certainty that Henry was dead and his corpse-like shape now was the result. He undeniably lost weight; now he could slightly see the shape of his ribs where before stood his pectorals that girls liked to touch so much.
His abs, fruit of so much training, were gone, replaced by a flat belly stained with his cum, another proof that he fucking wanted to be ravaged like that. In him it grew the desire to pinch his skin for feeling more pain, as a punishment for being like that, but he let go of the idea, deeming it just pathetic.
The muscles on his arms and legs were still there, but way thinner and on their way to disappear.
If he ever wanted to use his bow again, he would need weeks if not months of training and healthy eating, and if he ate now, he knew he would just vomit after. The only thing his mouth would have accepted was some aqua vitae. He needed something, anything to forget what had just happened. What he had let happen.
He already knew those things, from when he was captured and held hostage, he was obsessed with watching how his body, his only pride, was decaying into something inferior. He just couldn`t have brought himself to eat knowing that the only person that ever cared for him was dead, knowing that he died a death under torture.
If it wasn`t for him, Henry would have been safe and sound in Rattay, enjoying the company of the mill wench, which Hans unfortunately knew Henry loved.
To his surprise, the recent event left even bigger traces than the forced starvation. His posture was way more insecure, with his head bent a little down. He lost the only thing that kept him himself before, his confident noble posture ,even though he now guessed he didn`t need it anymore. He should not feel confident about anything and why should he carry himself with dignity after what Erik did to him? After, alas, he enjoyed it so obviously?
His attention was captured by the hickeys that the brute left on him, decorating the skin of his neck like a necklace should adorn a lady, alongside the teeth marks, bloody bites cutting deep through his skin. Moving his eyes down, his hips were bloody from the scratches both his and Erik`s. Something for testifying the fight at least.
Thankfully his member was soft, but his groin, always so carefully clean, was dirty with his own sperm mixed with blood.
The space between his legs was a slaughterhouse, a reddish liquid dripping down with drops that reached his feet. He could not differentiate blood from sperm at the moment, but he guessed there was some seed too since his aggressor emptied himself for what seemed minutes.
His inner tights were black and blue from the pressure applied on them before and they were heavily trembling, with small chunks of skin nearly detached from his body.
All the weight seemed to come down at that moment, because after Hans took a glance at his unstable legs he fell arse first on the floor. A wake of hot white pain hit him, and he started crying again for both the agony and his desperation.
What would Henry do in his position? He grasped. Since that started, he hadn`t allowed himself to think of the blacksmith, his dear, sweet, blacksmith.
Hans tried not to think about something like this happening to Henry, because he was pretty convinced that Henry would never be in his position. He brought this upon himself, it was just a matter of when it would happen. Henry would have fought till death, not accepting the violence that had been imposed on him. He would have not given up.
Hans tried to force his trembling legs to stand up, but they trembled too much from the effort and the only thing he managed to do was to awkwardly slide in the space behind, near to the bed. In his newfound sitting position he could see what was left between his parted legs. He saw red blood and bruises, but before his mind could process more he closed his tights and turned around, crawling using his arms on the bed like a worm.
He forced himself to sit upright despite the pain and his newfound tendency to curl up and stayed in that position feeling with his fingers the marks Erik left on his skin with his fingers again and again, his mind recalling perfectly when and how the brute left those memories. He cleaned his bruised genital area with the white blanket of his bed, staining it with even more blood than before and then, since it seemed he wasn`t stopping to bleed, he took the rag that was made of his former hose, broken by the weight of Erik and dabbed gently his butchered entrance with it.
He crawled from his bed to the guardrobe, like some sort of larve, and he took a black and yellow dress with a high collar, the only one that would cover the shame that had become of his neck. His old self would have said that a dress like that is to be worn just for a funeral.
Well, he felt like he had died anyway, so maybe it was appropriate.