WooHoo! Quick update haha. I assure you, the next update won't be as quick as this one. I had already written most of this when I published the first part. Anywho, this si the second installment of my DenNor Viking AU and please take a seat and enjoy the show :D
A faint draft of frigid morning air was what finally awoke the sleeping blonde. Lukas shivered involuntarily and buried himself farther under the scratchy, woolen blanket. His joints ached in protest from the sudden movement and, in order to explain the stiffness, he figured the draft must have been blowing all night.
"Mathias, there's cold air blowing. Go fix it," Lukas mumbled in a sleep-laden voice. He cuddled his face into the pillow and waited for the bed to shift as Mathias got up to fix whatever the problem was. However as time ticked on, there was no motion whatsoever. The Norwegian grumbled before pushing himself into a sitting position and wiped the sleep from his tired eyes.
"Damn it, Mathias, you lazy fu- …"
Lukas' words petered out as he stared at the empty, rumpled sheets beside him. Blank, tan cloth glared him in the face and his eyes widened. The Dane was missing and, judging by how cold his usual spot felt, had been gone for several hours.
The blonde registered his heart-rate quickening as he racked his brain for possible explanations of Mathias' absence. Obviously, this wasn't the first time Lukas had woken up with the Dane beside him but it didn't make sense as to why he would suddenly go out when they were supposed to leave town that very morning. Perhaps he had simply gone into the village to get extra provisions for the journey ahead?
The idea calmed Lukas' frantic mind; however, as he stumbled out of bed and saw the state of the front of the longhouse, he knew he was completely wrong. The dining table and chairs had all been upturned and flung about the room, each in various states of destruction. The table itself was tipped on its side as if to be used as a shield. Deep gashes made by a Viking long sword ripped through the dark, wooden walls of the house and sliced into the old chest of drawers Mathias had treasured so much.
Lukas' breath hitched in his throat as he stumbled closer to the wreckage and saw splatters of blood painting the floor in numerous places. Whether it was Mathias' blood or someone else's, he had no idea but he hoped it was the latter. With his mind reeling in shock, he scanned the room a final time before closing his eyes in defeat, his worst fear culminating right before him. Lars had finally gotten to Mathias.
The small Norwegian quickly shrugged on a light coat and leather boots before racing out the door towards the village square in pursuit of his lover.
"Dammit, Berwald, let me go! I've told you I haven't done anything wrong. Why won't you believe me? I'm your friend, for fuck's sake!" The large Swede glanced morosely at the struggling Dane in his strong grasp.
"I don't want to do this," Berwald replied in that clipped, monotone voice of his, "If it were up to me I would let you keep to yourself, but the evidence stands, Mathias. And it stands against you."
"You know Lars is setting me up," Mathias argued, his aqua orbs flashing in rage, "He's practically been flaunting his plans for months now."
"I can't comment on that. The bailiff must stay neutral. Now shut up, for your own good."
Mathias snapped his lips closed but his heart still pounded in fury, a strand of his normally spiky blonde hair flopping dejectedly onto his forehead. As he was dragged into the village's main square, he noticed that several people were already lining the shop fronts, no doubt buzzing with gossip of the previous night's events. As for Mathias himself, he had no idea what was going on. Only that it must have something to do with Lars. One moment he was sleeping peacefully with Lukas nestled in his arms, and next thing he knew, Berwald was bursting into his home and demanding that he be taken into the square for trial. His confused mind whirling, Mathias had put up a fight but even he could not outmatch the burly Swede. Within fifteen minutes, his hands were manacled and he was being shoved out of his house towards the centre of the village.
The Dane irritably blew a strand of hair out of his eyes and looked up at the morning sky. This time the blue was painted with pastel pinks and yellows instead of the dusky hues of a setting sun. Berwald yanked on Mathias' manacles to bring him back to attention and he shot the larger man a disgusted look. The Swede ignored it (whether by force or circumstance, Mathias wasn't sure) and kicked his boot into the back of Mathias' legs, sending him sprawling to his knees in the centre of the square.
The sound of the Dane hitting the ground caused the onlookers' attention to perk up and the large crowd of people now solely focused on the proceedings before them.
"Mathias Kholer, you stand accused of robbery and murder on three accounts," Berwald announced loudly so that all could hear, "What say you to these accusations?"
"Robbery and m… murder?" Mathias stammered, the trial taking an unexpected turn, "I… well, I say they're false obviously! I would never do such a thing."
The slender blonde's eyes widened as he racked his brain for an explanation to the surprising twist of events. He assumed Lars had turned him in for living with Lukas in a way the village thought man should not live with man. Now he was being charged for murder? Nothing added up. It simply didn't make sense.
"Really, Dane?" a low voice rumbled out from the crowd, "Because I'm fairly certain this is your battle-ax that was found at the scene of the crime."
The crowd parted to reveal a tall, stocky man holding a bloodied battle-ax in his right hand. A blue and white scarf flapped around his neck with the early morning breeze, giving him an aura of intimidation. Upon seeing Mathias' gaze trained on him, the man smirked in triumph, the blonde tendrils of his hair not much unlike Mathias' own glinting in the dawn's light.
"Lars," the Dane growled, nostrils flaring at the other man's gleeful mirth. Lars nodded once at him before stepping out of the crowd towards the square's centre. Berwald held up a cautionary hand when he deemed the Dutchman had come closer than was necessary.
"I believe this ax speaks for itself, Bailiff," Lars addressed the Swede in a bored manner.
"Is he correct, convict?" Berwald asked, his steely eyes narrowed at the bloodied piece of evidence. "Does this ax belong to you?"
"Of course it's mine," Mathias snapped, wondering just how Lars had managed to get his hands on the weapon, "It's the most awesome battle-ax I've ever owned. But I swear, he's making this all up. I only ever touch that ax for hunting. You all know m- …"
Mathias trailed off as a streak of white-blonde hair weaving its way through the ever-growing crowd caught his eye. Struggling against Berwald's grasp, he managed to twist himself so that he could easily follow the person's movement. The figure was fluid and stealthy, snaking through the tight spaces so fast that Mathias could hardly keep up with the pace. No one paid him any notice since their attention was focused on the centre of the square and the small figure reached his destination with no trouble. The Dane felt his heart sink, recognizing the man who was now crouched hidden beside a fruit trader's abandoned stand.
Seeing Lukas caused all of the puzzle pieces to fall immediately in place. Mathias now understood what Lars had been up to all along. If the Dutch had outed the two men as a couple, both would surely have been exiled as prisoners or, most likely, would have been publicly executed. Lars' goal never was to hurt the Norwegian he'd always loved. To fix this, he had decided to falsely convict Mathias of a crime, thus ensuring the Dane would be taken care of and allowing him to advance on Lukas without the hindrance of Mathias.
The idea was brilliantly constructed and Mathias cursed himself for not having seen it before. Yet however brilliant the plan seemed, it was not foolproof and, if the Dane played his cards right, it was possible to escape this. He quickly locked sights with Lukas and flashed his eyes in defiance, letting the small blonde know he had not given up. Mathias opened his mouth to protest his case but could not speak before the Dutchman stole the silence.
"Bailiff, if it is witnesses you need I have several who can attest to last night's events," Lars stated and, with a flick of his wrist, spurred a handful of townsfolk to step forward from the crowd, each expressing their own variant of sick delight.
Mathias grimaced. Perhaps he should have kept his overzealous mouth in check on the nights he spent at the pub. He had no idea there were so many people in the village who wished to see his demise.
"It is not witnesses I need, Lars," Berwald spoke, trying to mask his annoyance at the Dutch man. The imposing blonde then gave a tug on Mathias' arm, forcing him into a more upright position. "Everything points against you, convict. If you don't have an alibi then I'm going to have to sentence you."
The Swede's firm gaze caught Mathias' and he seemed to be silently pleading him to clear his name. Of course Berwald didn't want to be stuck in this position. Despite their heated feuds, the two men could always count on each other. Mathias could see behind his practiced glare that this situation was hurting Berwald just as much as it was hurting himself.
With an arrogant smirk, the slender blonde opened his mouth to reveal his whereabouts the previous night. However just as soon as the words began to form on his tongue, the leer immediately fell from his face and he whipped his head around to glance at Lukas still hiding behind the cover of the wooden stand. He was trapped. Cornered. Check-mate. Lars had seen to it that there was no way out of this situation and Mathias wanted to kill himself for being so blind. Of course, it wouldn't have been this easy. Of course, the Dutch had managed to ensnare him in every way imaginable. Of course, he had been foolish to think he and Lukas could ever have led a happy life together.
Mathias screwed his eyes shut in defeat for he knew if he gave his alibi that he had been with the Norwegian the entire night, he would not be released. Revealing his whereabouts would only get him arrested for another crime and inevitably bring Lukas into the same dilemma he was facing. Only if they were charged for homosexuality, the punishment would not simply be imprisonment. They would be killed.
The Dane's heart pounded like a drum in his chest, finally realizing what he needed to do. He couldn't put Lukas in harm's way, not after he'd spent so many years protecting him from the cruelty of the Viking village. If punishment was required to spare his lover, then he would take on all the pain they offered.
As Mathias opened his eyes, he noticed Lukas vehemently shaking his head. Apparently the other man had caught on to what the Dane was about to do. Mathias could see the way his indigo eyes spit fire in his anger, but all he could do was smile grimly back. Nothing the Norwegian did would change his mind. He would protect Lukas with his life if need be.
'No! NO!' Lukas mouthed furiously from his spot in the morning shadows but Mathias shook his head and broke the contact. He had to quell the tears of rage that threatened to spill at the sight of Lars' triumphant sneer as he turned to face Berwald once more. The Swede cocked an eyebrow in hopeful anticipation, but Mathias could not look him in the eye. With a deep breath, he condemned his fate in four words.
"I have no alibi."
Berwald's face contorted in confusion and he yanked Mathias' head up to force eye contact. The crowd surrounding them took on various emotions, from shock to disappointment to utter glee. The slender blonde bit his lip but did not break the bailiff's calculating stare, communicating he had made his decision and was not reverting from it.
"Without an alibi, you will be sentenced. I give you one last chance, do you have an alibi?" Berwald demanded before his voice softened to little more than a whisper meant for only the Dane's ears, "Please, Mathias, don't make me do this."
Mathias winced but repeated his words once more, the cold, sea breeze creating the perfect desolate atmosphere.
"I have no alibi."
The large Swede tersely nodded as he face morphed back into the usual cold mask of indifference. He gave a grunt as he hoisted Mathias to his feet and presented him before the awaiting audience. The slender blonde tried to ignore the people but he could not help but notice two certain someone's expression. Whereas Lars' visage was sparkling with gruesome delight, Lukas was nursing his own mix of horror and fury. Mathias hung his head in shame, knowing it had been himself who had been coerced to instill those emotions in his beloved Norwegian.
"Mathias Kholer," Berwald bellowed in a voice that could rattle mountains, "On the charge of robbery and murder, you will be sentenced to ten years in the Russian wastelands. You will be shipped out tomorrow with the current prisoners in our cells. The trial is finished and I suggest all townsfolk return to their daily business. Now!"
Berwald added the final, barked incentive when the onlookers remained rooted in their spots, waiting to see what else would happen to the poor convict. Upon the bailiff's words, however, they started in fright at the loud command and scattered off into different directions. Mathias chuckled at the sight. They looked like terrified kittens running from a hungry wolf. He let his gaze linger on the frantic antics of the crowd a bit longer, for he knew it would be one of the last amusing displays he would see, before Berwald shoved him in the direction of the station house where the convicts were stowed.
As strong hands marched him onwards, Mathias tried to crane his neck to catch one final glimpse at Lukas. Yet, when his eyes grazed over to the shadowed stand, the smaller man had vanished. The Dane's heart pumped wildly as he whipped his head around in search for Lukas. He had to be there somewhere. He couldn't have just walked away, could he? Was he that angry at Mathias that he didn't want to have one final, silent farewell?
Mathias growled in rage, the tears from earlier piling up behind his tired eyes. Why should Lukas even be angry in the first place? Confessing to a crime he never committed was to protect him after all. And Lukas chose now to be angry? Now, when Mathias was just about to be sent away for ten years with little chance of returning from the barren cold lands. Now, when he only wanted one last look at his lover's face so that he could remember it when time threatened to erode the blonde from his memory.
The reality of the situation he was in hit Mathias like a maelstrom, his chest aching with the weight of his loss. The beautiful cliffs and his handsome blonde lover would only be a distant memory now. Bright, magnificent longboats would be replaced with the dismal scenery of snowy mountains. Where there had been a tender hand, now there would be a stern command to 'get back to work before I cut your head off". Salty rivulets streamed down Mathias' face, all brave pretenses long forgotten as he was led away from the village and boy with whom heart lay, manacled hands held before him in complete surrender.
To Be Continued...
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