Fills Post

[theoldguardkinkmeme]

This Fills Post is now closed to new fills. New fills should go in Fills Post #2. For those of you who are in the process of posting multi-chapter WIPs, please post subsequent chapters in the new Fills Post but include a link to the previous chapters so that those who haven't been following the story from the beginning can easily find the first part(s). 

Remember:

Fills can but don't need to be anonymous. 

Start a new comment for each fill. Don't use threaded comments for new fills. Threaded comments are for fills that take up more than one comment field, or for feedback/squee/praise.

In your fill, please mention the prompt you are responding to, and provide a link to the prompt in the body of the text. 

Please use a header with your character(s)/pairing and a title and/or keyword or short phrase. (For example: "Just you and me: Andy/Quynh, Make-up sex" or "Between a Rock and A Hard Place: Nicky/Joe/Booker, first time DP"). 

Please also comment with a link to your fill in the prompt post, under the prompt you are responding to. Your comment header should include the word "Fill" or "Filled", so that those checking out the thread can find your fic/art more easily (For example: "FILL: Re: Any/Quynh, Make-up sex").

If you end up cleaning up your fill and posting it elsewhere (AO3, your personal journal), feel free to link the posted fic/art here as well.

Fills on Pinboard: For a list of filled prompts on Pinboard, go here.

Comments

NEW HERE: Needs of the Other 18B/20

[dr_libra_phd]

Argh....(not the fic, my life, lol) See below if interested.

But first...the fic!


———————————————-
Part 18B
———————————————-

(Yusuf)

Somewhere outside of Alexandria, 12th century




“Not like that,” Yusuf groaned. “Again.”

The iron bar, a former axle for one of the melon carts that was beyond repair, sailed in a perfect arc.

But hands slick with sweat could not hold and it spun towards Nicolo’s head.

Nicolo hugged the little girl who trailed behind him and threw them to the ground.

The iron bar kept spinning over their heads. Until it buried itself into the sand filled barrels the villagers stacked by Yusuf’s horse.

The beast screeched in outrage.

“Not my fault!” Yusuf bellowed, not turning around. He fixed his glare at Izem and the mill owner’s two sons.

Standing in the flat dried dirt in front of the baker’s home, the three youths gaped back.

“Nicolo?” Yusuf asked tersely as he tamped down the urge to shout.

“We are fine, are we not, Karânî?”

The little girl tucked under Nicolo giggled.

Nicolo prodded the girl to find her siblings. She skipped around Yusuf and his three pupils with a small sachet of sugared figs in her tiny fist and what looked like meal rolled within an aubergine in her mouth.

“Nicolo.” Yusuf gestured to the three to continue to practice their swings, this time with old wooden sticks instead. “Was that not your lunch?”

Nicolo made a mild face, a hand over his stomach as if it was swollen rather than still despairingly sunken.

“Any more food and I will burst. Izem’s mother fed us bread. Shah’s grandmother insisted we eat a bowl of her mutton and koskos—“

“Kuskus,” Yusuf corrected absentmindedly.

“They did not have to pay us,” Nicolo murmured as he sidled up to Yusuf.

“They are not,” Yusuf returned. He glanced over catching the shadows cast on Nicolo’s eyes. “The people here know we would not accept their coin. They only wish to show us their thanks.”

Nicolo nodded. He scoffed under his breath.

“What is it?” Yusuf covered his face when one of the youths tripped over the other. The three tumbled to the ground.

“Any more of their thanks,” Nicolo said ruefully, “We will need a cart to take me home.”

Yusuf shook his head, chuckling. “I was not the one who had a second helping. Although, I am offended you did not show the same enthusiasm over mine last week.”

Nicolo glanced sideways at Yusuf. “Shah’s grandmother made me aware it is not suppose to look green.”

Yusuf beamed. “Was it not imaginative?”

“Very, to the point of unbelievable,” Nicolo said wryly. He neatly avoided Yusuf’s elbow, hopping back but staying close.

Nicolo watched the three boys, barely men, as they tried to mimic what Yusuf showed them.

“Yusuf,” Nicolo murmured, his brow knitting.

“I know,” Yusuf exhaled. What is the point of teaching them how to swing a sword when there are none to spare?

“It has been only two days,” Nicolo offered. “They are much improved?”

Yusuf fought back the grimace he wanted to make. When he suggested teaching some of the young men how to defend themselves, they both expected something that fell short to what they hoped.

“Most of the able took to the seas for work. Those who remain can throw nets by the sea but can barely lift my sword much less yours.” Izem was the only one among the three with some experience, having worked on rocky ships since he was ten. But the mill owner’s two sons would not reach twenty for another year or so.

“As impossible as it seems,” Yusuf muttered, “Our Izem is the oldest and the best of our humble defense.”

Yusuf caught Nicolo gazing around him with open worry. He wished he had not said anything.

“It has been a week since Hedi died by our feet,” Yusuf said low. He rolled his eyes at his pupils. His voice rose to get their attention. “The left one—no, his left!”

To Nicolo, Yusuf added, “Hedi’s men may not know to look here. Or they are without direction with Hedi not returning.” Yusuf scrubbed his face with a hand. “If only we found more than three.”

“I spoke with the metal smith before,” Nicolo said, his eyes tracking Izem as he veered away from a blow with far too many flaws. “He has some axes that he was paid to sharpen, but his customers agree to contribute to the village’s defense. They are lighter than our swords.”

Yusuf grimaced. “Dull axes on unskilled hands are more a danger to themselves than to their enemy,” he sighed. He eyed Nicolo. “I wondered what took so long. I was about to go find you.”

Hearing himself, Yusuf hastily cleared his throat. “I mean, I did not, I wanted to—“

“I know.” Nicolo shifted his foot closer, his boot pressing into the side of Yusuf’s boot before pulling back. “I also had an idea I wanted to discuss with some of the stall sellers.”

Yusuf studied Nicolo’s profile, his expression distant.

“It was fine?” Yusuf knew none were merchants, only villagers trying to earn a bit of coin, but Nicolo had been reluctant to linger by their stalls in the past.

Nicolo’s boot pressed against Yusuf’s again.

“It was fine,” Nicolo said. “We spoke of what they have on hand to use as defense should they are caught unaware. It...it was a good discussion.”

Yusuf ached at how relieved Nicolo sounded. He wanted to loop his arm around Nicolo’s middle. Instead, he copied Nicolo, his boot brushing along Nicolo’s. But instead of pulling back after, Yusuf leaned into Nicolo’s ear.

“When we get home, I will do my very best to make you scream like you did before,” Yusuf murmured. He hooked a finger into the loop that was attached to the longsword. He tugged once before stepping away.

Nicolo coughed, loud enough, Izem and the others looked up in concern.

“Let us stop here,” Yusuf boomed, “we will rest, yea? Will someone get my friend some water? He seems rather warm under the s—“

Yusuf yelped when Nicolo firmly stepped in Yusuf’s toes.

Behind Yusuf, the horse burst out into snorts and snickers.

--------------------------------
It's US Thanksgiving next week. Yes, I forgot how crazy it gets the week before. All the houses around me were putting up Christmas lights so I had zero mental prep for the onslaught of homework, papers and my family's holiday celebrations and the craziness of the week before Thanksgiving.

Part C to follow in an hour. Need a bit of time to review my paper before hitting "Send" And yes, it's more Yusuf because there are certain promises to be made. Hee.