Title: Rough Hands
Author: Shadow/Phantomness
Pairing: Championshipping (Lance x Ash/Red)
Fandom: Pokémon
Theme: #11, Rough Hands
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Warnings: AU, PWP, shonen-ai

Lance hissed as he heard the arrows whistling overhead. Without a thought, he shifted, feeling the power of the legendary dragon fill him as he fell forwards, armor and skin melting into sleek scales. Fire bloomed in his belly and he breathed out a long strand of flame, sending the enemy warriors several feet back.

It did not take long before the warriors streamed out behind him, and that night, there was much laughter as the gold and gems were divided, the few men and women remaining locked in pens like cattle, stripped of weapons, armor and all hope. Ale flowed freely, and the smell of roast meat filled the air, oxen and a huge wild boar turning on spits, the grease sizzling on the crisp skin.

The headman, resplendent in a new dark cloak of scarlet wool, held his goblet high with a proud smile.

‘We have done well.”

His warriors roared in assent, and the man smiled before his eye rested on one man, who sat nursing his goblet of ale, long red hair pulled back in two braids.

“Lance!”

Golden eyes met his, and he lifted his goblet in salute. “Chieftain Asgar.”

“You have done well today. You may have the first pick of slaves from our raid today.” The man roared. A few of the other warriors shifted nervously, but Lance just smiled.

“I am honored.”

With that announcement, the drinking and feasting continued as before. Lance left the table soon, and was not sorely missed. The firelight glinted off his belt of polished silver links and the long sword at his side, his cloak of black wool pulled over his right shoulder in a golden clasp shaped like a dragon, with emerald eyes. His soft boots made little sound as he strode toward the slave pens, and the soldiers at their posts saluted between gulps of ale.

His eyes raked over the assembled peoples, before he crooked a single finger. “That one.”

The boy was thrust forward, shivering; he had smudges of dirt and tear tracks on his cheeks, and large, innocent brown eyes. Yes, he would do nicely. Lance unlocked the gate, and as several rougher-looking men rushed forwards, intent on overwhelming him and escaping, his eyes flashed golden and they froze.

Instantly, many of the others around them dropped to their knees, fingers plaiting wards against the demons.

Lance simply laughed in his mind, his prize in hand.

Ash shuddered. He was not sure what was in store for him, but it could hardly be pleasant. Teeth chattering, he followed his new… Master back to a comfortable-enough hut, the floor spread with rushes and the bed many soft furs.

Lance half-smiled. “Now,” He said simply, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I can be gentle, but if you fight me, I will hurt you.”

Ash simply shook his head.

“Shush…” Lance whispered, before he pulled him onto his lap and into a kiss. Ash squeaked, struggling to get away, but Lance’s arms were firm and the kiss wasn’t as bad as he feared.

The boy tasted of fear, and Lance broke the kiss abruptly. His eyes began to glow faint gold, and Ash stared, entranced, as Lance began to speak. His arms wound around the man’s neck of their own volition, and he pulled him closer.

“Yes… just like that…” Lance purred, and before long, his newest prize was curled up against him, breathing soft as he ran his clawed fingers over pale skin.

Pretty child.

When Ash woke up the next morning, he was slightly sore, but on the whole, not quite panicked. There was breakfast waiting, porridge heaped with rich cream, and as he began to eat, he decided that things could be worse…

End Fic

Completed 12/3/06

This is not historically accurate! I didn’t do a lot of research on Vikings, took some bits from Norse Mythology and the clothing’s right, but the rest is fair game!