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theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
Fills Post
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Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
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Part 6B
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(Nicolo)
Cairo, 12th century
Yazim startled when Nicolo stopped by her stall, asking if she saw Yusuf. As he darted by her, Nicolo realized the widow stammered her reply because she did not understand Nicolo at first. In his haste, he spoke to her in a mix of Arabic and Greek.
This early in the morning, the markets were busy as ships arrived and baskets of fruits and spices wove through stalls for delivery. Caravans arrived at the docks that stretched out to paths towards the walled city, the streets clustered around it and out towards the Nile.
Nicolo scanned the turns and spaces between the stalls, ignoring the calls for his attention and his coin.
The bread and tea were warm. Yusuf could not have left too long ago. Nicolo mumbled apologies as his longsword's scabbard knocked into knees and carts. It was a reason why he often left it behind, favoring the dagger. Yusuf left it in his sack one day, in a village by the water as they cut through lands that still remembered news of the first invasion and dreads the next.
Many took offense to the sight of his longsword and his eyes. They were within their right, so Nicolo never fought back. Nicolo was certain if another mob attack, Yusuf would finally see sense and leave. He could return for Nicolo's body later if it was convenient.
Instead, Yusuf slipped a dagger into Nicolo's sack one night and quietly suggested leaving the sword with Yusuf if they were to stay in another town. Since then, Yusuf always made sure it was as sharp as his scimitar. He complained Nicolo did not know how to do it correctly.
"...sorry, sorry," Nicolo muttered as he took an abrupt turn and knocked into a man selling colorful fowl. He could not remember the bird's name. Yusuf told him once. It wore a strange nose and Yusuf pointed it out to Nicolo when they first set their eyes on the Ni--where he is?
Nicolo panted, irritated by how breathless he felt and how clumsy his mind was feeling. His head was spinning too fast for him to consider what to do. He ate the bread, surely his body would agree it was nourished? He set his hands on his knees, his sword dragging, refusing to stay high against his hip, his strap for the sword too worn to hold its shape.
Could Yusuf have gone into the walled city instead to partake in the libraries? No, Yusuf would have said. No, he said docks. Nicolo should see him here, among the workers squinting suspiciously at Nicolo as they climbed up to the ships and carry down baskets spilling with fruit and fish.
Where he is?
Nicolo was tempted to shout for Yusuf. It is a small dock. Only small ships can move up and down the channels to the Nile where their bigger ships waited. Yusuf would hear him.
But the words were caught in Nicolo's throat as each face he searched was not the right one. Why did Yusuf go to the docks? Why did not Nicolo hear him leave?
Something from afar caught Nicolo's attention. He narrowed his eyes at the distance, at the last ship, whose sails and oars were bound. It was a ship meant to stay, for a long time. And on its deck, a man in white and tan robes stood there staring back at Nicolo.
Dirar.
Even from here, Nicolo could see his smirk. He felt cold run down his back. His throat soured, the bread threatened to revolt in his belly.
Clenching his jaw, Nicolo straightened up and walked. His worn boots thumped as he approached. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few men sneer knowingly. Nicolo kept his gaze forward, fixed on Dirar's sly smile. He stopped by the plank that led to the ship.
They stared at each other, waiting.
"I knew I would see you again," Dirar murmured. "Nicolo." He said Nicolo's name in a long exhale. He touched his chin with a slender roll of parchment. "I was curious how much you have learned since last I taught you."
Nicolo stopped from charging when he recognized the delicate lines on the scroll.
"Where is he?" Nicolo bit out. His left hand drifted to his sword.
Dirar's eyes were dark flints. They drifted to Nicolo's sword. He chuckled.
"I hear you sometimes fight on your knees. Many like that. You were clever to do that. People bore easily. They pay more if you struggle."
"Where. Is. He?" Nicolo's heart hammered, galloping against his chest, screaming to break free.
"Come up to my ship. We will have tea." Dirar made to turn.
"I do not want tea," Nicolo snapped.
Dirar walked to the railing, at top of the plank.
"It was not a request." Dirar spun on his heels. "Leave your sword by the door."
Nicolo glanced around him. He recognized some of Dirar's crew, lingering by the docks. One leered and jerked his pointy chin to the plank. Behind Nicolo, someone cackled.
Nicolo took a deep breath. The air was thick with cardamom and figs. The plank was streaked red and brown from spilled spices. He climbed up the plank. His legs shook with each step. His neck ached where he forced it to hold his head up. He felt far away, looking at a stranger's hand take his sword and prop it against the side of the door. He hunched to get in, willing his back to straightened as he stood in the cabin he knew all too well.
Dirar set his chair in the center of the space. Damp and empty barrels were pushed up against the walls. In the back, hidden in the shadows, Nicolo felt eyes watching him.
"In case you try to use the dagger," Dirar murmured as he sat down. "I heard from your second...caller. He was not pleased when you threatened to cut it off when he wanted a second time."
Dirar spread his knees apart, revealing the grotesque bulge that strained his trousers.
"I have informed him it was not your fault. The price was clear. He sent his regrets."
Nicolo's jaw set.
"Where. Is. He?"
Dirar canted his head. He slipped a hand over the bulge and breathed in sharply.
"What makes you think he is here--if you leave now, you will not know." Dirar's lazy tone sharpened the moment Nicolo reached the door.
"Then you are responsible," Nicolo grated out.
Dirar chuckled. "I am responsible for many things. I am responsible for who works in the docks, who receives the sweetest fruit in their stalls, how many can enter and sell in the walled city. I am responsible for who thrives and who starves. But one man?" Dirar tsked. He uttered something in Arabic, in words Nicolo could not understand completely.
In the back, someone laughed.
Nicolo turned around slowly. The eyes in the shadows followed him as he approached Dirar. He stopped short of reach. He glowered at Dirar.
"I will burn this ship down with you in it," Nicolo said evenly. "And I will use your crew's blood to extinguish the flames."
"I have no doubt," Dirar murmured. "Your kind are bloodthirsty. Look how calmly you talk of our deaths."
Nicolo flinched.
Dirar chuckled softly when he caught what Nicolo failed to hide.
"Where is he?" Nicolo repeated. He bit the inside of his mouth as he fixed his eyes at Dirar.
"What do you want?" Nicolo said finally. His teeth gnashed into the flesh of his mouth. He tasted blood.
"Many things," Dirar said. His eyes shone. "But for now, kneeling will do nicely for us."
Nicolo's throat worked. "You will let him go?"
Dirar shrugged.
Something flared inside Nicolo. He gripped his dagger and took a step forward.
In the back, the clear sound of blades sliced the darkness.
"Kill me and know nothing. Kneel and you may gain...something." Dirar made a sound and the blades in the back glinted briefly as they were put away.
"You know I pay well...Nicolo."
Nicolo released his grip on the dagger.
"I am outnumbered," Nicolo said dully. "What stops you from simply taking?"
"I find it more enjoyable when the other is willing."
"I was never willing." Nicolo glared at Dirar as the merchant continued to rub between his legs, the object hard to ignore as it jutted against the trousers.
"You were willing enough to take our coin."
Nicolo pressed his lips together. There was nothing he could say.
Dirar huffed. He pulled his hand away. He gestured to the damp spot on his trousers. He darkened when Nicolo clicked his teeth and bare them at him.
"You have fight," Dirar said low. "How many are you willing to fight to help your friend?"
Nicolo tensed.
"Kneel," Dirar said calmly.
Nicolo's tongue felt too big for his mouth. And it felt like he was delirious with thirst and tried to eat sand again. He couldn't get his knees to bend.
Nicolo's throat worked.
"You promise to leave him alone?" Nicolo said, defeated.
"I promise nothing if we get nothing. Kneel."
Nicolo felt the ship's floor shake as footsteps crept up from the back. He could not count how many there were. He...he did not want to.
"I will not ask again," Dirar said low, "And I will not offer again."
Nicolo closed his eyes. He heard the footsteps stop behind him, around him. A sound clawed in his chest, but he did not dare let it out.
Nicolo opened his eyes and forced himself to stare at Dirar. Only him. Nothing else.
Without a sound, Nicolo dropped to his knees.
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Okay, I'm tired of this prompt. See you guys Tues--
Kidding! Kidding! I'm not that horrible of a bitch. LOL. I'll post tomorrow! Thank you for reading!
Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
(Anonymous) 2020-10-02 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
(Anonymous) 2020-10-02 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)you update this!
Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
(Anonymous) 2020-10-03 01:40 am (UTC)(link)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
(Anonymous) 2020-10-03 03:36 am (UTC)(link)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6B/12
(Anonymous) 2020-10-03 04:22 am (UTC)(link)