Fic: Controlled Violence, Ch. 8/30

[khemlab.livejournal.com]

Characters: (for this chapter) Hunter Parrish, Nick Oliveri, Liev Schreiber, Sean Maher
Rating: R
Warnings: Slavery, Profanity
Word Count: 1,628


Previous Parts: Ch. 1: Liev's Provenance, Ch. 2: Liev v. Madsen, Ch. 3: Lord Bale's Gym, Ch. 4: The Charity Ward, Ch. 5: On Tour, Ch. 6: An Unwelcome Interruption, Ch. 7: Hunter's Provenance

Summary: In an age when slavery is mandated by law, a type of gladiator-style fighting has arisen. Liev is an aging fighter who brings extra income to Lord Bale's household by training other fighters. Hunter is the newest fighter in Lord Bale's stable.

Author's Notes: Character photos for Lord Bale's household can be found here. Thanks to poisontaster for opening up this sandbox, to devilc for introducing me to it, and to fleurlb for some choice casting suggestions.

Lord Bale's House, Present Day
"Hey."

The voice came from the doorway of his room. His room. With a door that closed. Hunter looked up, saw the bald, tattooed man, and hit his knees without even thinking. "I'm so sorry," he choked out, heart thundering against his ribcage. "Master. I wasn't expecting you."

Michael had dropped Hunter off and left as if he couldn't wait to be done with him, which was fine by Hunter. The less time he had to spend with that creepy guy, the better. But it wasn't like he had anything to unpack, so he'd just sat down on the edge of his bed and tried not to think too hard about the whole fighting thing.

"Hey! No, what are you...oh. Hey man, get up. I was just sparring, it's okay. We take our collars off sometimes."

"We..." Hunter spoke to the floor, his breath forcing dust motes to dance in his face. "We, like 'slaves' we?"

"Yeah." The man crouched in front of him. "It's okay, you can get up. Lord Bale's not even in town. Michael should have told you."

Hunter risked a glance up and saw that the man had a collar clutched in one hand. He held it out as evidence. "See? This is mine. Sometimes, for serious sparring, we take these off. It's just a precaution, don't want anyone getting hurt." He grinned, and it softened his eyes. He looked friendlier than Liev or Michael by far. "Not any more hurt than usual, anyway."

"Oh." Hunter lifted his torso up and settled back on his heels. His own collar was temporary, Michael had said. Just enough to get him out of Commerce. "So you're a fighter?"

"Yeah. And you used to be a body slave?" The guy's eyebrow was raised as if "body slave" were some kind of foreign curiosity.

"I....yeah. I guess I used to be. Not anymore?"

"No, not anymore. But I can see why you were, though. You're not an ugly fucker like me." The man winked, and Hunter risked a smile. "I'm supposed to take you out to the gym. Liev wants to see you."

"Okay." Hunter took a deep breath and stood up. "I'm Hunter."

The bald man smiled and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Nick. Good to meet you. Now come on before Liev kicks both our asses."

Lord Bale's house was enormous - lofted ceilings, bedrooms up and down the long, narrow hall. "Have you always been a fighter?"

"Pretty much. Been fighting for twenty years, give or take." Nick seemed to smile pretty much all the time. Not a big grin, just a little, secret smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Wow. I'm not even that old."

"S'good. Good to start young."

"Quit flirting, you two. C'mere, Hunter, I want to talk to you." Liev's rumble cut into their conversation as they stepped into a large gymnasium. There was a boxing ring in the center of the gym, and Liev was leaned up against it, using a heavy brush to clean what looked like a shiny square pillow to Hunter.

"Don't let him scare you." Nick winked at Hunter and turned away, walking back down the hall.

"Shut up, Nick. You know I'm a big old softie."

Nick's laughter echoed down the hall.

"So what do you think of your new home?" Liev continued to brush at the pillow, buffing back and forth with the brush as if he was polishing a shoe.

"It's...nice. I never had my own room before."

"Yeah." Liev stopped brushing and looked up to meet Hunter's eyes. Hunter felt skewered to the spot. "Why'd you lie to me, kid?"

"Lie to you?" Hunter's pulse rang loudly in his ears. He couldn't be sure, but he thought Liev had felt that little mended spot on his ankle.

"Your ankle's been broken. Not that long ago, not so long ago that it could be something you forgot about. So I ask you again. Why did you lie to me?"

Hunter's face felt flaming hot. "I...I never told anyone about that. I didn't think you would be able to feel it."

"That's not an answer." Liev put the pad and the brush down and walked toward Hunter, closing the distance between them. "'I thought you wouldn't find out' is not an answer." He stopped when there was barely an arm's length between them. "I took a risk letting Michael buy you. I need to know I can trust you, kid. If I can't trust you, I can't train you."

Hunter dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to meet the intensity of Liev's gaze. "I'm sorry. It was my old master, he was..." Hunter searched his vocabulary for a word adequate to describe Master Fehr and came up short. "Not okay. In the head. He hit me with a baseball bat." The doctors had praised Master Fehr for bringing Hunter to the hospital so quickly, mere hours after he'd broken Hunter's ankle in a jealous rage. Evidently some masters didn't bother. Silence stretched between them when Hunter was through speaking.

"I believe you," Liev said finally. "Don't lie to me again. Dinner's at six. If Carmine's cooking doesn't kill you, we start training in the morning." He walked away, his footsteps padding softly down the hall, leaving Hunter alone with his thoughts in the gym.

***

Dinner didn't quite kill him, but it wasn't good. "Carmine" turned out to be another fighter who was on temporary cooking duty until a real cook could be brought in. The other fighters had been turned out to be surprisingly nice, not as gruff as Liev. But even Liev had opened up a bit at dinner, laughing and bantering with the others, most of whom evidently didn't live in Lord Bale's house.

Hunter laid back on his bed in his underwear later that evening, trying to process it all. Names swirled in his head. Liev, Charlie, Carmine, Nick, and that tall, thin guy. Benny? Benny. And Doug, who had looked a bit bruised and battered, but could cheerfully put away enough food for three people. A small rotating fan whirled in the background, blowing cool air over his skin. He didn't realize he'd dozed off until a quiet knock at his door disturbed his slumber. He slipped out of bed and pulled his pants on, calling out "just a second" like it really was his own room, then mentally cursing himself for his own stupidity. Slaves don't own property, dimwit. But whoever knocked seemed to think it was appropriate to wait.

"Hi, I'm Sean." The man at the door was a bit taller than Hunter and soft-spoken, but pretty enough that Hunter was sure no one minded leaning close to hear his words. He was dressed in a perfectly-pressed shirt and dress slacks, an outfit that was worlds away from the sweatpants and t-shirts the fighters had been wearing. "I'm Lord Bale's body slave. I just came over to make sure you're settling in all right. And to bring you a few things." Sean bent at the waist to pick up a box in the hallway.

"Oh. Hi." Hunter felt slightly ill in the pit of his stomach. This was Lord Bale's body slave, a real body slave. Anything Hunter had been trained to do, this guy could probably do with his hands tied behind his back. Or over his head, or to his ankles. And look pretty doing it. He stepped back from the doorway to let Sean in.

"It's not much, but I didn't have your measurements until earlier today. Not that it matters whether these things fit perfectly, but if you were overly tall or on the shorter side, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. And a few toiletries, of course. Liev insisted all you need is a bar of soap, but his skin is always so dry, and I know you used to be a body slave, so you'll be wanting something a little more moisturizing." Sean set the box down on Hunter's - the room's - desk and smiled. "Have you met the other fighters yet? They're all so nice, I'm sure you'll get along with them very well."

"I...thank you. Yes, I met them at dinner."

Sean sighed. "I wish Michael would hurry up and find you a new cook. He says it's very difficult, but I've been through the Commerce records - many slaves are trained in cooking. I apologize if dinner was not up to your standards."

Hunter had to smile at that. "It was okay." He looked in the box, and started sorting through the things Sean had brought. Lots of t-shirts, shorts, and sweatpants. A few jockstraps. Even after two bouts of body slave training, the thought of Sean picking out a jockstrap for him still made Hunter blush, and he had to turn away from the box. "Thanks for bringing all this. If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you traveling with Lord Bale?"

It had seemed like an innocent enough question, but Sean's face clouded and a slight V developed between his eyebrows. "Lord Bale often travels overseas. He's British, so when he goes to visit his family business, he has to go through several different countries on the way. Slaves are not welcome in many of those countries, and of course, not in England at all."

"Oh." Hunter didn't know what to say; being left at home while the boss was off traveling sounded fine to him.

Sean gave him a tight smile, and Hunter felt disappointed that Sean's mood had changed so abruptly from open and welcoming to closed-down and polite. "I'll leave you alone to get settled in. If you need anything else, please let me know."

Ch. 9: Training Begins

Comments

[nola-nola.livejournal.com]

Loving this story. Thanks.

[khemlab.livejournal.com]

Thanks for continuing to read! I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it.

[fleurlb.livejournal.com]

There's an interesting tension here, where everyone seems so lovely and reasonable but no one is there out of choice, so when things go bad (and clearly, they'll have to sometime), the options for dealing with it will be extremely limited.

I'm intrigued. :)

[khemlab.livejournal.com]

This 'verse lends itself to an incredible amount of dramatic human tension - I'm having a lot of fun writing it, and I hope I manage to keep you intrigued!

Controlled Violence

[argentine65.livejournal.com]

They all seem pretty well people and Sean looks like he likes his owner a lot. Very interesting story. Thank you for sharing it. Martha

Re: Controlled Violence

[khemlab.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading, Martha! I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

[devilc.livejournal.com]

The doctors had praised Master Fehr for bringing Hunter to the hospital so quickly, mere hours after he'd broken Hunter's ankle in a jealous rage.

Such a perfect bit of detail about everything that's wrong in this 'verse.

[khemlab.livejournal.com]

*shudders* I know, right? He's lucky to have been taken to the doctor at all.