keelywolfe

Trickster

by Keelywolfe and Kirby Crow

Fandom: The 13th Warrior

Pairing: Herger/Ahmed

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Fuðflogi!!

Notes: This is entirely Kirby's fault. I'm taking no blame for the writing of this porn. ;) Look for more of her tastiness here:

k_crow_fiction

***

Behind them, the teeth were still chattering in Angus's severed head.

He waited only until they were out of sight of the shocked crowd, mindful of
Buliwyf's warning; that they must give nothing away to the enemy, be it the
enemy within their ranks or the enemy without. Once King Hrothgar's people
could no longer see the two of them wending their way through the ramshackle
village, Ahmed turned and shoved Herger's shoulder hard.

Herger stumbled, more from surprise than the force of Ahmed's push, and
tumbled into the side of the moss covered thatch of a storage hut. Herger
put out his hand and barely stopped himself from putting his hand
through the thatch, before he turned to Ahmed with that quizzical,
mocking expression that seemed to infuriate the Arab.

"Did my back seem to need your attention? Or were you hoping it would be the
ground and my knees?"

He knew Ahmed was quick. It was a good thing. If a man cannot be strong, at
least he can be smart and quick. Not all men were giants. Herger was quite
willing to forgive Ahmed's smallness, because he - like the rest of the
company - thought of him as the luck of their quest; the thirteenth warrior
who was no Northman.

However, Herger was not prepared for just how quick Ahmed could be when he
wanted to, like when he wanted to grab Herger's shoulders and slam him
against the thatch, which creaked alarmingly behind his back.

Herger grabbed Ahmed's forearms, more to steady himself and to take the
pressure off the building behind him than to put Ahmed off. He rather liked
Ahmed touching him.

"Little brother, we are both going to fall through this wall if you keep
doing that." Herger grinned down into Ahmed's face and realized the man was
furious.

No, not furious. Angry, but cold, like the snow-wind that blows across a
campfire. His grin faded a little. "What have I done to anger you so?" Blue
eyes flicked back to the path that led to the gathering circle, where he had
lost Angus his head. "Did you care what happened to him?"

"You are," Ahmed pronounced, giving Herger a last shove before he tried to
pull away "an imbecile!"

Herger chose not to let Ahmed pull away, and held on to his forearms as the
man pulled once impatiently, then again, then went still as the futility of
trying to escape those large hands became apparent. He could draw a
knife, Herger thought privately. But he won't.

Herger cocked his head. "Imbecile?" he smiled, ignoring Ahmed's resumed
attempts to get free. "I do not know this word. Does it mean handsome?"

Ahmed's jaw dropped and he ceased struggling, probably out of sheer
surprise. "Hand... no! No, it means fool! Moron! Idiot spawed of a mule and
a dog!"

Herger's eyebrows went up. "Dog?" He was far more amused than angry. A man
who wielded words as well as Herger knew they were often meaningless; a tool
to manipulate lesser men. "Perhaps you've forgotten what happened to the
last man who called me an animal?"

That checked Ahmed. If not completely, at least enough to make him look
slightly guilty. "I do not mean you are an animal. I mean you are as foolish
as a dog."

"Now I'm a fool?"

"I already said you were a fool!" Ahmed burst out, recovering his outrage.
"Let go!"

Herger chuckled. "I thought you wanted my attention and now I find you only
wanted to call me a fool and leave?" Herger clucked his tongue in
disappointment, tightening his grip as Ahmed took up his struggles again.
"We will fall through this wall yet if you do not hold still."

If Herger had thought Ahmed's anger forgotten, he was quickly proved wrong.

"If I thought it would give you any sense, I would throw you through it! You
risked your life only to prove a point!"

Such fire this little Arab had within him, flashing in his dark eyes. The
cuts on his face that he fretted over only added to his appeal, showing
strength where some might suspect none lay. Herger grinned over his own
fanciful thoughts, dropping them quickly when he saw anger rising yet again.

"Our lives would have had worse risk without the point made," he said calmly
and perhaps he was a fool, for Ahmed was not soothed by his words. Perhaps
he did not wish to be soothed? That was a thought well worth considering.

"There should have been another way."

But his words did not hold the same heat as before. Ahmed's temper cooled
before his eyes. A grievous loss, but there was no loss without some gain,
because he stood still within Herger's grasp, their bodies close to touching
from chest to knee.

"Would you think of one, little brother?" Herger asked. He leaned in to
whisper the last against the Arab's ear, amused to feel him draw a sharp
breath. "Would you have been as angry to see one of the others fight such a
small battle?"

Ah, there, another delightful flare of that temper from one usually so cool,
like ripples of lake water from a thrown rock.

"I would be angry at any who risked their lives in such idiocy," he hissed.
No longer trying to pull away, instead he leaned in to give Herger the full
force of his glare. His hands made the move to the front of Herger's shirt,
pushing him back against the wall. Again, it creaked in warning and a
scattering of dust showered down on them.

The dust of hay and ash settled in Ahmed's dark hair like flecks of snow and
Herger laughed, unable to brush it away because he would have had to release
the other man, and that would lose him this battle far too soon.

"Little brother," he chuckled "if we are to end up on the ground together,
there are better ways than this."

Ahmed was quick, this he knew, but Herger was as well, and stronger. The hut
behind them proved to be one meant for storing supplies and, as expected, it
was more empty than not. Surprise had kept the Arab still for a short time,
not nearly long enough, though it was not difficult to wrestle him to the
ground, using his greater weight to pin the smaller man beneath him.

He fought and spat as a cat might, using words that Herger did not need to
guess at to know their meaning. The curved sword was trapped - possibly
painfully - to the ground beneath Ahmed's back, and if ever there was a time
for him to use a knife, it would be now. While Herger did not expect him to,
he was still braced against a sudden sharp pain, thin and possibly fatal.

It did not come.

Instead, Herger was able to capture Ahmed's hands and still them, holding
them over his head while he squirmed and swore, neither action very
unpleasant. He did nothing more than wait, nearly sighing his appreciation
of the lithe body wriggling beneath his own, though he was careful not to
smile, not wanting Ahmed to think he was being mocked. A man should know his
enemy in a battle, and Herger knew this one would end poorly if Ahmed
thought it a poor jest. A game, perhaps, but not a cruel one.

Ahmed was still wriggling and twisting beneath him, and Herger was in no
hurry for him to stop, but he thought that enough protest had been made,
even for a warrior.

"Are you ready to be still now?" he asked in a gentle voice. Perhaps it was
this that made Ahmed suddenly relax and look up at him with a puzzled
expression crossing his smoke-colored features. It was not Herger's usual
mocking tone, but soft words that sounded odd in his throat. He did not mind
using them with this man, though. There was much he did not mind with this
man.

Ahmed opened his mouth, but Herger was not about to go into elaborate
explanations. He slid his thigh between Ahmed's legs, careful to keep a firm
hold on his wrists, and pushed. Ahmed eyes, dark as charcoal from a cold
fire, went wide and he made a little sound of surprise, a rapid puff of
breath that may have been a gasp, and managed to say his name;

"Herger..."

Joyous, it meant. He would have liked to ask him what Ahmed meant at
some time, but they always had other things to discuss. Herger lowered his
head several inches, until his lips almost brushed Ahmed's.

"Finally," he murmured. "I was beginning to think you were cursing me
because you had forgotten my name."

Ahmed swallowed hard, looked up at Herger, and blinked several times, during
which time Herger had a glorious opportunity to notice how dark and long his
eyelashes were. He also painted his eyes, a thing which only women did in
Herger's lands, and a thing which almost tempted Edgtho to investigate the
Arab's blankets at night. Only Buliwyf's dark threats and the admonition
that they were a company of brothers on this quest had dissuaded him, but
Herger had kept an ear open when he slept beside Ahmed anyway.

"I forget nothing," Ahmed said, in a voice that shook like the timbers of
the great hall in a storm. "Get off of me."

"Enough of protests," Herger continued in that softest of voices, the one
that sounded like honey in his throat, and he marveled at himself. "You have
a plump mouth. Let me taste it."

Ahmed was able to get out "N-" before Herger sealed his mouth over his.

It was not like kissing a man. Of course it was not. Ahmed scraped his beard
off daily, so his skin was soft as a woman's breast. He has a whore's
mouth, Herger remarked to himself without rancor, for he was quite fond
of whores, too. He even moaned a little as Herger pushed his lips open with
his tongue and stroked inside him.

Encouraged, Herger loosed one of Ahmed's wrists and slid a hand between
them, parting the fabric of his shirt to draw his fingers down that amber
skin to see for himself if it felt like the polished golden glass it
resembled. He was not disappointed. He broke the kiss to stare down at Ahmed
in amused amazement.

"You are soft as silk," he rumbled, his throat growing tight as a spike of
fire began to work its way down his body and settled between his legs, where
he grew thick and hard. He pushed more of Ahmed's shirt away, exposing one
dark nipple that he bent his head to flick with his tongue. "Are you like
this all over?"

Ahmed seemed to be having trouble speaking. His back arched like a cat as
Herger licked at his chest, and the hand that had been freed went to the
back of Herger's head, his fingers knotting into the scattered gold of his
hair. Herger released him fully so that his could go to work on the knots
holding Ahmed's breeches together, and it was then that Ahmed grabbed his
wrists. "Wait."

Herger chuckled a little. "Why wait?" He was no longer interested in talking
and went back to working the laces from their holes.

Ahmed squirmed, turning his head to peer at the tall grass and dead hay
around the path that shielded them from unfriendly sight. "Someone may
pass."

Herger shrugged. That was one lace. Five to go. "So they see."

"But..." Ahmed wriggled. "What will... what if..."

"You talk too much." Herger kissed him again and continued to wage war on
the laces, which unfortunately left Ahmed's hands free to push at his
shoulders and try to slide out from under him, but Herger was not losing
this game so easily.

He seized Ahmed's hips and wedged his leg again between those slender
thighs, sinking down onto a body as lithe as a dancer. The fight was brief,
but he won in the end by pressing his beard into Ahmed's neck and nuzzling
there, licking his salty skin and nipping at his collarbone. Ahmed jumped in
shock and Herger used to knee to press his thighs further apart, pushing the
hard, heavy erection against him.

"Unh, yes," Herger sighed out, licking the curves of his ear, latching onto
the velvet lobe and sucking just to hear the sound that came from Ahmed.

"But- " Ahmed began.

"They won't."

"If- " he tried once more, though weakly.

"I will just have to kill them," Herger assured gravely, and then there were
fewer words. Ahmed sighed deeply and closed his eyes, and Herger was able to
work the final laces from his breeches and slid one hand down into the
hollow of his thighs to wrap his fingers around the stretched, silken cock
that slid into his palm.

Ahmed shuddered and moaned again, his dark lashes fluttering.

"That's a woman sound," Herger teased.

Ahmed whispered something in his language. Herger smiled against his skin,
his fingers sliding up and down the length of the shaft in his hand. "Say
that again."

Ahmed was not talking now, but holding on to the front of Herger's shirt,
his forehead pressed to Herger's breastbone, and he was making little
panting noises under his breath and pushing up with his hips, thrusting into
the tight ring of Herger's fingers.

Herger's smile broadened into a grin, and he kissed that plump mouth again,
sucking on the lush lower lip, sliding his tongue over it as if it were a
fresh slice of fruit. He wanted to pour honey mead into that mouth and taste
it in him, lap it from his skin, suck it from the hollow of his throat. Ah,
but not here. Not on the ground here, with so many eyes close by. That would
have to wait. For now, his hand was busy and he watched Ahmed's face turn
from shaken desire to rapt pleasure as he squeezed his eyes shut and bunched
his fists into Herger's shirt. Heat filled Herger's hand, warmth flowing
down his fingers, dripping over his wrist.

He kissed the short hair at Ahmed's temple, shaking his head at the
softness, and waited until the shuddering had stopped and Ahmed just
breathed heavily against his chest.

"Are you back, then?" Herger asked, resting his forehead against Ahmed's so
that the face beneath him was blurred from the closeness. There was some
sound, not quite a word, and he took that to be an agreement.

"Good. Then it's my turn." He sat up on his knees and worked the fastenings
on his breeches himself, entirely too impatient to wait for the Arab to
puzzle them out.

Ahmed's eyes had gone wide again, dark as the sea at night.

"You didn't think I'd let you walk around with a smile when I can barely
walk at all, did you?" Herger huffed indignantly.

"I...I did not..."

He stammers as though the words refuse to leave his tongue, Herger
thought fondly, but if his tongue and hands would not move, Herger did not
mind helping.

With fingers damp with seed, he pushed Ahmed's hand down the front of his
breeches, holding it there until it seemed to figure out its purpose. Herger
sighed in appreciation as Ahmed finally wrapped his fingers around him. His
hands were softer than any woman's, even a whore, but his grip tightened
soon enough. For all its softness, it was the strong hand of a warrior and
that was as gloriously exotic as the dusky tint of his skin.

The angle was a poor one and Herger took pity on him, thrusting into the
tight clench of his fingers. Ahmed was watching him, his eyes shaded by long
lashes, and Herger grinned and leaned in to press another kiss against that
tempting mouth, pushing his tongue between Ahmed's lips to taste the
slickness within. There were other things he wanted to do to his mouth. He
wanted to see it reddened and swollen, wrapped around the base of his cock.
He wanted to see the plush tongue dancing against his own playing its games
a good deal lower.

Herger settled for the heat of a palm, slicked with his own fluids, and
grunted at the pleasure of it. If there was to be time for that later, there
would, and if not, who was he to question the gods?

Ahmed was making little sounds low in his throat, and it came to Herger to
tease him again for his womanly ways, soft and sweet and probably perfumed,
but it was no woman who sank his teeth into Herger's lower lip. He gave a
muffled yelp of his own and his cock seemed to surge at the startling pain.
Herger's hands found the sides of Ahmed's head, gripping tightly as he
pushed into the tight circle of his fingers.

His mouth felt too hot and his lip throbbed as he devoured Ahmed's mouth.
The meager taste of blood was spread between their tongues and he couldn't
even wonder at whose it was. The heat in his cock was tingling a warning up
his spine, quick and sharp, and he hunched his hips desperately, seeking
that last stunning blow.

It left him gasping, stifling a cry that would have roused the birds around
them for a hundred paces and possibly the milling crowd far too close to
them. He spilled his seed into the suddenly gentle hand around him and
collapsed heavily, breathing harshly into Ahmed's neck. Through the tangle
of his own pale hair he could see Ahmed watching him, his own breathing
strained by the weight on top of him. But he made no move to escape, no
struggling or wriggling now and Herger was in no hurry to stir himself.

The gentle hand continued to caress him, to draw out little shudders that he
felt in his ribs and sparks of pleasure that he felt in the tips of his
toes. "Mmm," he murmured in appreciation, pressing a wet kiss to Ahmed's
cheek. His lips lingered there, and he again smiled at himself, amused at
how easily he had been seduced.

"I did not know Arabs were allowed this," he said between kisses, skirting
close to that sweet mouth again.

Ahmed made a thoughtful noise and drew his thumb over the crown of Herger's
cock, making him twitch. "I did not know your people allowed it," he evaded.

"Oh, they do not," Herger said. He felt slightly drowsy now, and wished for
a horn of mead and a bed of straw to sleep away the pleasure in his bones.
"But our Loki finds no evil in it, so how can I?" He yawned hugely.

Ahmed smirked. "I must hear more of this Loki. You must tell me some night."

To his surprise, even though he was glutted from weariness and sex-sotted
and fresh from a kill, he felt his shaft begin to thicken again in Ahmed's
palm. He gave Ahmed's neck a little lick. "This will not do. We have work."

"Indeed," Ahmed said, but his hand disagreed.

Herger rose up on his elbows and gazed down at him. In the late sun, Ahmed's
dark hair had tints of red and the long shadows made his eyes seem almost
black. Even his new scars looked rather pretty on him, accenting his beauty
rather than taking away from it. He had a passing thought to tell him this,
and that made him snort rather rudely into Ahmed's face.

Ahmed withdrew his hand. "Why do you laugh?" He was offended and Herger was
instantly sorry, even though he was still laughing. Ahmed shoved at his
shoulders and tumbled him halfway on his side, sliding nimbly out from
beneath him and rolling to his knees.

Herger continued to laugh. Ahmed grabbed a handful of rotted hay and threw
it at him with a spate of Arab language. All Herger could think was how
foolish he himself looked, with his breeches unlaced and his penis hanging
out, straw in his hair, and contemplating telling a man how beautiful he
was. Yes, he was ridiculous.

"Ibn, I didn't mean you- " he got out between chuckles, then bit his tongue,
belatedly remembering that the name he had called Ahmed for months on the
journey was not truly his own.

"My name is not Ibn!" Ahmed nearly shouted, then vaulted from his knees to
his feet and stomped off in the direction of the great hall with a backward
glance of fury.

Herger collapsed on his back and gave himself up to giggles. Oh, yes, he
would tell his friend of Loki. It was the right thing to do, since He had
already made his first appearance.

***

-finis-