A/N: This story is a spin-off of my larger story, Knights Errant, in which Jack and Ten find themselves in a version of Camelot. Sir Ancelyn originally comes from the Seventh Doctor story Battlefield, but I've rather made him my own. It's not necessary to read that story to understand this one (the backstory you need is that Jack and Ancelyn both serve King Arthur, and are friends) but it does help.
If this had happened in the course of Knights Errant, it would have happened in the 18-month gap between parts 1 and 2. I don't think it did happen- or at least I'm writing KE with far more UST than there should be between Jack and Ancelyn if this story had happened- but, if Ancelyn and Jack ever did get together (which I don't necessarily think they do), it would go something like this.
So, just to be clear: I'm writing non-canon slash fiction for my own fanfiction novel. And admitting it on the internet. Enjoy!
Jack stepped wrong. He thought the ice was thick enough, thought he was sure-footed enough to make his way across, and he was wrong. The ice creaked under him, and he knew it was too late. It cracked, shattered, and dropped him into the water. As he went down, dragged under by his armor, he heard Ancelyn scream his name.
The icy water hit him like a freight train, knocking the air out of his lungs. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. The moment passed, and he struggled, trying to move with cold-numbed limbs. He tried to work out which way was up, in the swirling, half-frozen water. Suddenly, strong hands pulled him bodily out of the river and dragged him to shore. "You may be unable to die, Jack," Ancelyn said, "But I would not care to wait until the spring thaw to fish you out of the river."
Jack couldn't answer, his teeth clenched and chattering. "I saw shelter up the hill," Ancelyn said, more seriously. "Let us see if it is suitable."
The shelter was an abandoned hut. It was drafty, but the roof was doing a good job of keeping out the snow. Ancelyn built a fire in the hearth. Jack tried to start stripping his wet clothes off, but his hands were shaking and numb and too clumsy to work the latches. After what seemed an eternity of trying to unlace one of his boots, Ancelyn appeared. "You will hurt your hands if you keep trying," he admonished, gently. "Let me help." Ancelyn unlaced the offending boots, and unlatched and unbuckled and untied his armor. The arming doublet came off next, damp cloth already stiffening in the cold air. With those off, Jack was able to manage the rest on his own.
Ancelyn managed to get a small fire lit, and cleared the straw and snow off of a section of floor. He pulled the bed rolls out of his pack. "This will heat you up faster than dry clothes," he said.
"Sorry to slow us down," Jack got out through clenched teeth. "Know you wanted to get to Salisbury by nightfall. S- so damn many r-rivers."
"Sh, Jack," Ancelyn said, firmly. "I know that silence is unnatural for you, but talking wastes energy now. Under the covers. I will hang up your clothes over the fire." He smiled at Jack and turned to his task.
Jack, knowing a sensible suggestion when he heard one, did as Ancelyn told him. He watched the other knight picking up Jack's wet things, and draping them above the hearth. Ancelyn was wearing a surcoat with his own crest on it, which was rare. Ancelyn was so much Arthur's man, that he tended to prefer to wear the blue-and-crowns, save when he was at home. Now, his surcoat showed a crest that the heralds would call vert, a hawk rising argent- that is to say, a silver hawk on a green field, its wings spread as though it were about to take flight.
The clothes and armor dealt with, Ancelyn looked down. "Jack?" he asked. "Jack?" Jack stared off into space, shivering. He was so cold. In the back of his mind, he was thinking thoughts like, severe hypothermia and shock and disorientation, but he couldn't make his body do what it ought to do.
Ancelyn swore an oath. He began taking his clothes off. Jack barely noticed. He noticed, however, when a naked Ancelyn climbed into the bedroll with him. Ancelyn felt hot, like he was on fire. Jack shivered harder as Ancelyn wrapped his arms and legs around him. "Jack..." he said. "Say something, please." Jack just shook, trying to force his voice to work. "Jack," Ancelyn repeated, fiercely. "I have seen men die of the cold. I do not care to watch you do it, not even if you can return to life again. Talk, please."
"Th- thought I shouldn't waste energy," Jack got out. Ancelyn was so warm. His fingers and toes began to burn. He knew on some level that it was circulation returning, but it hurt.
Ancelyn released his breath. "Good," he said. "You are warming."
"You're so hot," Jack said. He paused, and then laughed at himself, short and soundless. "Body heat," he clarified. He didn't have to; 'hot' wasn't a slang term that they used here. The double entendre had only a single entendre to Ancelyn.
"Technically, it is you who are cold," Ancelyn pointed out. "I am a most reasonable temperature."
"T-talk to me," Jack asked. "Need something to think about."
"My bawdy tales are not so expert as yours, Jack," he said, smiling. His face was inches away from Jack's. "What would you have me talk about?"
"Anything," he said. "You. Tell me about you." He grimaced against the pain in his hands and feet.
Ancelyn clasped Jack's hands in his, pressing them to the warmth of his chest. He rubbed them, gently. "There is little to tell," he said. "My father was a landed knight. Our lands are near Sir Ector's, and I played with Kai and Arthur as a child. None of us knew who Arthur was, of course- not until Uther died. He called me to Camelot after he was made king. He gave me no warning; I merely knew that the new king had summoned me personally. I never dreamed that it was Arthur."
"Your father... Gwalchmai?" Jack asked. His body was beginning to relax, and the pain in his extremities was finally starting to subside.
"Gone from us a few years ago now," Ancelyn said, a little sadly. "I continued his arms. Mine is the hawk rising- his was the hawk displayed. My mother is gone also; she died in her childbed, bearing my younger sister." He looked down, inspecting Jack's fingers. "None are showing any serious signs of frostbite," he said. "We treated you promptly enough."
"Good to know that I'll still be able to play the harp," Jack said, disingenuously. He was useless with the instrument, regardless of how many fingers he had.
"Could you regrow fingers, if you were to lose them?" Ancelyn asked, curiously.
"Eventually," Jack said. "If I died, I'd get them back almost immediately. That seems to reset me. If I didn't die, they'd come back, but it would take a while." He was still freezing, but he was beginning to be aware of Ancelyn's body as more than just a source of warmth. Ancelyn shifted, wrapping one of his legs around Jack's lower body. Jack tried to focus on whether he could feel his feet or not, and not on Ancelyn.
"You may have to regrow a toe or two," Ancelyn commented.
"You take this so calmly," Jack observed. "Most people are more unnerved."
Ancelyn raised an eyebrow. "As I said before- I have seen men die of the cold before." He shuddered. "There are many worse ways to die, but still- I would not choose it, if I had the choice."
Jack laughed. "No- I mean, my immortality. It doesn't bother you."
"Should it?" Ancelyn shrugged. "You are my brother knight. You are Jack. It is what you are. It may be useful, or interesting, but I cannot imagine why it might 'bother' me."
"You should tell that to the Doctor," Jack said, smiling thinly. He closed his eyes. "The first time he saw me, after this happened, he ran away. Next time he saw me, he told me I was 'wrong'. It was hard even to look at me, I was so wrong."
"He is a curious man, your Doctor," Ancelyn said, neutrally. "He does not see things in the way a human man would."
Jack laughed again. "There's an understatement." He paused. "He got over it, of course, or we wouldn't have been traveling together. But I can tell it still sets him on edge. I think he looks at me and sees- I'm not sure what. A piece of forever, maybe?" Jack was finally starting to feel less cold. He could feel his muscles begin to relax. "Something disconcerting."
Ancelyn laughed. "There are many reasons to find you disconcerting other than your ability to come back to life- though, faith, that was unsettling until I understood it."
"Like what?" Jack asked, mock offended. "What are these 'many reasons' you speak of?"
"Your clothing," said Ancelyn. "The clothing you appeared in. The fabric is as fine as any I have ever seen, but the muted colors and lack of adornment would make it seem cheap. And you- you are an excellent shot with the laser, but you are not so well-trained with the sword. Yet knights are trained with sword before laser, and are thus usually more comfortable with the blade. And your manner..." He trailed off.
"I'm out of place," Jack supplied. "I don't quite belong." He closed his eyes again, feeling the warmth of the bedroll and of Ancelyn's body against his. He stretched his toes. "That's me- always just a little out of sync, no matter where I am. Good thing for me that I do out-of-sync so fabulously that no one really minds."
"As you say," Ancelyn responded. When Jack opened his eyes, he could see that Ancelyn was smiling a little. Jack shivered, without meaning to, and Ancelyn's smile turned into a frown. "If you were not who you are," Ancelyn said, "I would tell you that you should sleep. Rest heals the body."
"I might still sleep," said Jack. "I do sleep, you know, now and again."
"Then rest," Ancelyn said, with a curious tenderness. "I will keep you warm, while you sleep."
"Well, if you put it like that," Jack murmured. He was actually beginning to feel drowsy. Ancelyn's body was warm and comfortable next to his. He closed his eyes, and found himself uninclined to open them again.
When he woke, it was dark out, and Ancelyn was no longer in the bed roll with him. Jack stretched, feeling his body whole and hale once more. Jack sat up and looked around. The air was cold on his naked skin. "Ancelyn?" Jack called, wondering where the other knight had gone.
"Jack," Ancelyn said, reappearing in the door. He was fully dressed again. More's the pity, Jack thought. "I didn't think you would be awake again so soon," Ancelyn continued. His eyes darted to Jack's naked chest, and then away again. "Are you well?"
"As I ever am," Jack said. "How long was I out?"
"Two hours, no more," said Ancelyn. "I fear I must sleep myself, soon. It has gotten late, and I have mortal needs for rest." He smiled at Jack. Jack shivered just a little- whether from the cold, or the smile, he was not certain. "Ah, Jack!" Ancelyn said, coming closer. "You cannot still be frostbitten. Surely you have healed."
"I'm fine," said Jack, smiling. "It's just cold in here, even with the fire. Sorry, I should get dressed. How are my clothes?"
Ancelyn touched them, and sighed. "Still wet, I fear. It is only a small fire. You should not put them back on until they are dry. You could borrow my surcoat, though, so as to have some protection from the elements."
"I'd appreciate it," Jack said, honestly. He had never liked being cold, if he had a choice. Ancelyn unbelted the surcoat, and pulled it over his head. Jack took it, and put it on. He burrowed back into the bed roll a little, and Ancelyn sat down on the ground in between Jack and the fire.
"And now you appear to be one of my family," Ancelyn said, smiling. He indicated the green-and-silver device on the front of the surcoat. "You have not told us what your own arms are, yet. Have you any, where you come from?"
"No," Jack said, raising his eyebrows. He hadn't thought about it before. "I suppose I should choose something, if I'm staying here. I've just been using the the king's."
"You should have an azure field," said Ancelyn, his eyes twinkling. "To match that coat of yours. Perhaps azure, with an argent charge?"
"What charge would you pick for me?" Jack asked, curious.
"Oh, I am no herald," Ancelyn protested.
"Still..." Jack pressed. "You know me, and I don't know any heralds."
"The phoenix," Ancelyn said, finally. "The phoenix, displayed." He reached out a hand, just brushing Jack's chest. "In all its power and majesty."
Jack realized, suddenly, that he was holding his breath. He let it out, and breathed in again. "A good choice," he said, softly. Ancelyn smiled, almost shyly. "Ancelyn," Jack said. "Thank you for looking after me. It's not often I need it."
"Always, Jack," Ancelyn answered him. "You are my brother knight." His eyes met Jack's. There was an electricity between them.
Jack had always thought Ancelyn was beautiful, from the first moment he'd seen him. As he'd come to know him, Jack'd also found him funny, and smart, and loyal- all attributes that Jack Harkness looked for in a lover. The only reason that he'd never tried to initiate anything with Ancelyn was that male-male relationships were strictly forbidden in this here-and-now. Jack had no desire to get thrown out of Camelot- and therefore be separated from the Doctor. Also, if he was going to be honest, he didn't care to have Ancelyn hate him. So, while in Camelot, Jack had stayed away from men in general and Ancelyn in specific. Which was fine; Jack wasn't celibate, and he'd had several flings with various women. Ancelyn, though, had remained an itch that Jack had chosen not to scratch.
But just now, Ancelyn was sitting close to him, his soft white shirt open at the neck showing a very light smattering of pale blonde chest hair. Ancelyn's hand lay strangely close to Jack's thigh. And Ancelyn was looking at him with desire writ plain in his eyes.
Jack had never cared much about the social restriction of sexuality anyway.
Jack leaned forward and kissed Ancelyn, one hand wrapped gently around the back of the other man's neck. Ancelyn's lips were soft, and slightly parted. His skin rasped lightly against Jack's.
For a moment, Ancelyn kissed back. Then he recoiled, pushing himself backward, almost into the fire, a look of terror on his face. "Hey-" Jack said, reaching for Ancelyn. "Careful. If one of us has to burn for that, let's have it be me, okay?"
Ancelyn allowed himself to be pulled away from the hearth. "Jack..." he whispered. Ancelyn had never been good at hiding his emotions. What Jack saw on his face now was guilt, fear, and shame all roiled up into a single ball of torment. It hurt Jack, like a physical pain, to see Ancelyn like that.
"You don't have to feel that way," he told Ancelyn, sadly. "I want you. And you want me. There's no shame in that."
"How can there be no shame?" Ancelyn asked, his voice hoarse with suppressed weeping. "It is... unnatural. Evil. I would be shunned; I would lose my spurs. My king... oh, god- my king..." Ancelyn hid his face in his hands. Jack had a sudden realization.
"You love him, don't you?" Jack asked, but it wasn't a question. He knew that kind of hopeless love. "Oh, Ancelyn," he said, sympathetically. "I know... I know what it's like."
"Your Doctor?" Ancelyn said, looking up weakly.
Jack nodded. "For more years than you've been alive. He doesn't want me. He's never wanted me, but I'll love him... till I die, maybe. I don't know."
Ancelyn cried out, just once, a short, choked, scream. "I have loved him since we were ten. And when he became king, I thought, at least I can offer him my service, if not myself." He laughed, sharp and bitter. "I have never said those words aloud before."
"It's not evil," Jack said, quietly. "You're not evil. I'm sorry that this place, this time tells you so. It's not fair. It's not like that, where I come from."
Ancelyn laughed again. "In your Torchwood, men may lie with men, and no one thinks ill of it?"
Jack smiled. "Not in my Torchwood, no. And not in the century and place I was born, either. It's just... sex. Or love. Or both. Men or women, or other, it's all the same."
"You are mad," Ancelyn said. "There is no world like that in all the worlds."
Jack reached out a hand and gently laid it on Ancelyn's chest. "There is," he said. "Let me take you there."
Ancelyn shivered, but when Jack snaked a hand around his head and twined his fingers in his hair, Ancelyn did not object. Jack kissed him again, gently, tentatively. Ancelyn kissed back, just as tentatively. When Jack pulled away, there were tears on Ancelyn's cheeks. Jack touched them, brushed the tears away. "We don't have to do this," he whispered. "We can go back to how it was. I can pretend this didn't happen, if you can."
There was a long silence. "No," said Ancelyn, in a strangled voice. "I am damned already. If I am to go to hell, I may as well glimpse heaven before I go." He leaned over and kissed Jack, hard and long.
Jack did not sleep again, after. He lay in the bed roll with Ancelyn, listening to him breathe, feeling the warmth and weight of him against his body. He lay like that for a few hours, savoring the sensation, letting himself lie and do nothing but experience. Eventually, he extracted himself from the bed roll, got dressed, and got up to look for more firewood. By the time Ancelyn woke, Jack had a makeshift breakfast cooked.
Ancelyn stretched, and sat up. His hair was tousled, and he rubbed his eyes. "Good morning," Jack said.
"Jack," Ancelyn said, sleepily, "You should come back to bed." He smiled.
"I have food here," Jack pointed out. "I know for a fact that you must be hungry."
"Whyever would you think that?" Ancelyn said, looking at Jack from under his lashes.
Jack laughed. "Food," he said. "Here, I'll feed you, so you don't have to dress."
"Such hedonism," Ancelyn said, smiling slyly.
Over the course of breakfast, Jack found himself becoming more and more horizontal, until at last he lay next to Ancelyn, Ancelyn's hand snaked under Jack's shirt and Jack's hand stroking Ancelyn's long hair.
"You keep your hair so short," Ancelyn said.
"It's not fashionable here, is it?" Jack said, dropping a kiss on Ancelyn's neck. "That's me, out-of-sync again."
"It is striking," Ancelyn said. "I like it." Jack leaned in and kissed him, lingeringly.
"We need to make Salisbury, don't we?" Jack said, as he pulled away. "They're expecting us."
Ancelyn kissed Jack urgently. He rested his forehead on Jack's shoulder. "We can only have today, Jack," he whispered. "Please tell me that you know that."
Jack sighed. "I do," he said.
"This world you live in," Ancelyn said, his hand on Jack's chest, "It is not my world. If this were to be known..."
"I'm good at keeping secrets," Jack said. He pulled Ancelyn close. He ran a hand down Ancelyn's back, feeling the warm softness of his skin. "I wish it were different, though."
"No more than I do," Ancelyn said, his voice rough. "We still have a little time," he added, hopefully. He pulled back a bit, and nibbled at Jack's neck. "So long as we reach Salisbury by nightfall."
Jack smiled "Well, there's that," he said, nuzzling Ancelyn's hair. He paused, and his face grew serious. "You're not going to hell," Jack said. "If there is a god, how could he hate this?"
"Perhaps you are right," Ancelyn whispered. "Perhaps not. Kiss me now, Jack, and let us use what time we have left to good purpose."