"Hey, le fou!" Élias hailed Jacques.
"Élias? What are you doing? I'm on guard duty tonight."
"I know. I just wanted to say… I liked your little song from earlier. Really spirit-lifting, really cool." The Breton mate congratulated him.
"Well, thanks." The tavern singer grinned with a little blush on his cheeks. The song was actually dedicated to Gaston. But no one, not even the main addressee, knew it.
"Has anyone said… you were cute?" Élias asked, dangerously close to the daydreaming teen.
"What?"
He took Jacques' chin in his hand.
"Because you are. Any man here would love to have you as their woman…" He implied as he tried to kiss LeFou who immediately shoved him back.
"Nom de Dieu, what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to eat you, fluffy galetez." Élias giggled as he tried to crush his lips on Jacques' again.
"Leave me alone!"
The Breton guy loudly slapped him. LeFou screamed.
"Who do you think you are, bitch? I'm your superior and I decided you're here as my personal semen dumpster, got it?" Élias cursed.
Jacques didn't reply as he put a hand on his bruised cheek. He was so shocked. Why? Why would he be abused like that? He didn't do anything wrong! Did he? He yelped as Élias violently pulled him by his shirt's collar.
"If you're not pleased with me, maybe I should tell the whole garrison to try your pretty chubby ass to see which one fits the best?" Élias threatened him. "A lustful sodomite like you can only crave it. Soon you won't be just Gaston's whore anymore."
Élias felt a harsh blow on his head.
"Ow! The fuck? Who dares?" He turned back.
"I dare, mate." LeFou's best friend answered before he strongly punched with an annoyed grunt Élias in the face. He knew it was wrong -well, rather seen as wrong- to hit a comrade. It could bring him and Jacques big problems. But he couldn't let this asshole beat and rape –or just touch!- his precious Petite Crêpe. He'd sworn to keep Jacques safe and he would do it! He couldn't prevent him from enrolling but at least he'd him from being assaulted.
"You! Well, you're not the sharing type, are you?" Élias gloated at Gaston who replied by furiously kicking him in the liver.
"Ta gueule, trashbag!" Gaston yelled his vocal chords off.
The Breton spat some blood but kept on laughing. "Ha, ha. Come on, he's just a yucky slut. I bet he doesn't get enough with just your small cock!"
Gaston growled as he madly kicked Élias between his thighs.
"Argh! Mab c'hast!" The Breton guy cursed in his mother tongue.
"Who has a small cock now?" Gaston screamed.
He kicked him again, in the chin; then, in the ribs; then, in the shoulder. Each time with the most brutal strength Gaston could gather in his legs. He kicked Élias again in his broken ribs. He yearned to crush, grind this son of a rotten bitch to death! To beat that fucker to a bloody pulp! To stomp his ribcage until it cracks open on his still beating innards! He had to die! The most savage and gruesome death!
DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! You fucking bastard! The world will be a better place without you! You lowly shit!
Élias was now dipping in a blood puddle, motionless –except for a couple of still twitching fingers. A few teeth were missing. This wasn't enough for the rabid hunter. He wanted more beating, more blood! He pulled the Breton bastard up by the collar and gave him another tough punch.
"GASTON, STOP!" An ear-piercing shriek begged.
The lunatic soldier abruptly stopped. He looked around. Everyone was up and had got out of their tents. He had woken up the whole garrison with his mad lynching. Well, the more, the merrier! After all, fear was the best way to control a man. He knew –used to know it too well. If he- When he'll become captain, no one will dare to find fault in it. They'll already know no one questions Gaston! No one resists Gaston!
Then his blazing eyes set down on frightened Jacques'. Why did he look so scared? Why was he staring at Gaston like a doomed prey stares at a hungry predator? His best friend just had saved his skin, so shouldn't he be relieved? The horny Breton was off, then why Jacques was acting like Gaston was the one about to eat him?
The wannabe captain stepped forward. Jacques flinched. As the others didn't dare to say a word or move a finger, Gaston crouched down in front of his rescued princess who didn't look happy at all to see his savior.
"It's ok, LeFou. You're safe now." The twitching-eyed soldier softly told.
As a 'thank you', he got a small whimper.
"That bastard won't touch you again. You're safe!" He insisted, cupping a trembling face between his blood-splattered hands.
Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Jacques thought. Go away! Go away!
Bordel, Gaston's tantrums were getting worse and worse as this goddamn war dragged on. Will they still burst out when it's over? Will Gaston hit or even try to kill him someday?
