Fic: Fire and Ice (PG-13)
Dec. 21st, 2010 11:53 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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gunitneko , who wanted Viking Jeeves!
Pairing: Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no money from the lovely works of Wodehouse.
One thing they never tell you as a lad is just how heavy a sword really is, you know, or how dashed cold its handle is; how one’s fingers become painfully numb in the snow and make it dashed near impossible to hold, let alone wield. It was my father’s sword, I believe. This is why I knew that I must carry on, and face the threat before us. He’d have wanted it that way, you know.
I’d never been a violent sort of chap,now. While some brawl through life, creating rows and noise, I always preferred to settle my differences with a chat and a soothing drink. Oh, how nice a cup of tea would feel on my fingers right now! No time for that, what? Besides, I’d spill my tea all over this horse.
The enemy was approaching! Rough chaps they were, clad in furs, the skin that was exposed showing no symptoms of the frostbitten ache that I felt. Our men and theirs mingled freely now, and again, I felt that dread that comes of chaos. They were brawling all about me, and for a moment, I fancied that if I stood perfectly still, I’d cease to exist, and they would pass me by.
It was then that I saw him; the enemy, that is. He was a large, dark man, with pale skin and eyes like the stormy sea. There was something familiar about him, you see, but I couldn’t quite say what. He wore his armor and furs in a way that was almost regal, like a king among men. I stood still now, not because I wanted to disappear, but because I wanted to stay within his sight.
A glint of light caught my eye. One of my men approached us, his sword held high. He was going to bring it down on the enemy, on this paragon of a warrior!
“No!” I screamed, suddenly, and the man startled, and darted the blow. Things get a bit hazy here, but I don’t think what happened was pleasant enough to remember, so I should count my blessings, what?
When I awoke, I was aware of an ache in my chest, and a feeling of warmth. There was a fire. I could smell it, and feel its warmth, radiating towards me. There was something soft beneath me, like a pile of cats. Ah, it was only fur, blankets made of pelts soft as a lady’s shawl. Someone was stroking my hair. I blinked my eyes open, and before me was the heathen warrior.
“You are safe now, Bertram.” He began, lowering his fingers from my hair to my cheek.
“How… how do you speak my language?” I asked, feebly. “How do you know my name?”
“I think you will find, in time, that I know everything.” He grinned, in a knowing way that made my tum flip over.
“Oh.” I shifted, and winced.
“Your defenses have fallen.” The warrior continued. “You saved me, Bertram, and so I have spared you, in turn. Yet I lay claim to you, now. You are mine.”
His large, strong hands roamed my body, and I moaned as they pushed lower.
“Sir…”
I groaned, as the heat became too much to bear. I was on fire!
“Sir!”
A coolness seeped through me, starting from my head and slowly cooling me to my toes. Ice, I thought, it must be the ice where he lives, where he is taking me to live as his lover.
“Sir, listen to my voice. Open your eyes, sir.”
I had to obey, didn’t I? I opened my eyes, and blinked, unsure of where I was. There was something soft under me, to be sure, but it was not fur, but a blanket stuffed with down. There was a fire close by, I could hear the faint sound, but no open flame. And the lovely coolness was pressed to my forehead, and slightly damp.
“It is time to take your medicine, sir.” The voice said, gently.
“Ah.” I managed, through my confusion. Jeeves pressed a spoonful of the wretched stuff to my lips, and then offered me a chaser of water. He pulled back the heavy covers, and tucked the top sheet about me in its place.
“Dr. Collins believes that your fever should break by evening, sir.” He assured me. His eyes were so tired. His eyes… they were lovely. Like a cool, dark ocean which would be bliss to swim in. Oh. Oh, dear God. Jeeves.
“Rest now, sir.” He ordered, as he shimmied out of the room.
I took several deep breaths in turn, calming my pulse. I could blame my blushing on the fever for now, I thought, distantly, but what about next week, and the week after? I didn’t ponder my problem for long, though, since the medicine was so dashed potent. I slipped back under, wondering if I would dream.
gunitneko , who wanted Viking Jeeves! Pairing: Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no money from the lovely works of Wodehouse.
One thing they never tell you as a lad is just how heavy a sword really is, you know, or how dashed cold its handle is; how one’s fingers become painfully numb in the snow and make it dashed near impossible to hold, let alone wield. It was my father’s sword, I believe. This is why I knew that I must carry on, and face the threat before us. He’d have wanted it that way, you know.
I’d never been a violent sort of chap,now. While some brawl through life, creating rows and noise, I always preferred to settle my differences with a chat and a soothing drink. Oh, how nice a cup of tea would feel on my fingers right now! No time for that, what? Besides, I’d spill my tea all over this horse.
The enemy was approaching! Rough chaps they were, clad in furs, the skin that was exposed showing no symptoms of the frostbitten ache that I felt. Our men and theirs mingled freely now, and again, I felt that dread that comes of chaos. They were brawling all about me, and for a moment, I fancied that if I stood perfectly still, I’d cease to exist, and they would pass me by.
It was then that I saw him; the enemy, that is. He was a large, dark man, with pale skin and eyes like the stormy sea. There was something familiar about him, you see, but I couldn’t quite say what. He wore his armor and furs in a way that was almost regal, like a king among men. I stood still now, not because I wanted to disappear, but because I wanted to stay within his sight.
A glint of light caught my eye. One of my men approached us, his sword held high. He was going to bring it down on the enemy, on this paragon of a warrior!
“No!” I screamed, suddenly, and the man startled, and darted the blow. Things get a bit hazy here, but I don’t think what happened was pleasant enough to remember, so I should count my blessings, what?
When I awoke, I was aware of an ache in my chest, and a feeling of warmth. There was a fire. I could smell it, and feel its warmth, radiating towards me. There was something soft beneath me, like a pile of cats. Ah, it was only fur, blankets made of pelts soft as a lady’s shawl. Someone was stroking my hair. I blinked my eyes open, and before me was the heathen warrior.
“You are safe now, Bertram.” He began, lowering his fingers from my hair to my cheek.
“How… how do you speak my language?” I asked, feebly. “How do you know my name?”
“I think you will find, in time, that I know everything.” He grinned, in a knowing way that made my tum flip over.
“Oh.” I shifted, and winced.
“Your defenses have fallen.” The warrior continued. “You saved me, Bertram, and so I have spared you, in turn. Yet I lay claim to you, now. You are mine.”
His large, strong hands roamed my body, and I moaned as they pushed lower.
“Sir…”
I groaned, as the heat became too much to bear. I was on fire!
“Sir!”
A coolness seeped through me, starting from my head and slowly cooling me to my toes. Ice, I thought, it must be the ice where he lives, where he is taking me to live as his lover.
“Sir, listen to my voice. Open your eyes, sir.”
I had to obey, didn’t I? I opened my eyes, and blinked, unsure of where I was. There was something soft under me, to be sure, but it was not fur, but a blanket stuffed with down. There was a fire close by, I could hear the faint sound, but no open flame. And the lovely coolness was pressed to my forehead, and slightly damp.
“It is time to take your medicine, sir.” The voice said, gently.
“Ah.” I managed, through my confusion. Jeeves pressed a spoonful of the wretched stuff to my lips, and then offered me a chaser of water. He pulled back the heavy covers, and tucked the top sheet about me in its place.
“Dr. Collins believes that your fever should break by evening, sir.” He assured me. His eyes were so tired. His eyes… they were lovely. Like a cool, dark ocean which would be bliss to swim in. Oh. Oh, dear God. Jeeves.
“Rest now, sir.” He ordered, as he shimmied out of the room.
I took several deep breaths in turn, calming my pulse. I could blame my blushing on the fever for now, I thought, distantly, but what about next week, and the week after? I didn’t ponder my problem for long, though, since the medicine was so dashed potent. I slipped back under, wondering if I would dream.
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Date: 2010-12-22 05:09 am (UTC)The Lady 529
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Date: 2010-12-22 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 05:22 am (UTC)And now I'm imagining Jeeves as a Viking (though he wouldn't be called Reginald Jeeves if he was one. Ragnar Djupe could sort of work though. Means Ragnar the deep, Ragnar means council, decision and warrior. Yes I'm a name nerd) in a main hall, with loads of warriors, serving them Darjeeling or Earl Grey.
The Lady 529
no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 05:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 05:44 am (UTC)The Lady 529
no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-22 06:07 am (UTC)The Lady 529
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Date: 2010-12-25 02:01 pm (UTC)Again, apologies for intruding. :')
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Date: 2010-12-26 01:41 pm (UTC)Despite some of them having travelled that far, even if they did manage to get their hands on tea, I seriously doubt they would bring it back as anything other than 'Ooh, look, new shiny thing people who live far away use!' Especially given the cold climate we have here (here very much being Viking country); it's not unknown for food to freeze surprisingly quickly despite being piping hot half a moment ago. That being said, for the purpose of it being Jeeves and a good story, I could certainly suspend my disbelief quite a bit : D As long as tea wasn't portrayed as a common thing among the warriors, because we know it wasn't. Yes I'm really this much of a history nerd.
Now I want a humourous fic in which Jeeves the Viking brings tea back and everybody thinks he's weird, other than Bertie, who as we all know loves a cup. This was not how I was supposed to spend my day! X D
The Lady 529
hurrah for nerdyness
Date: 2010-12-26 02:10 pm (UTC)And I suppose tea in it's dried form travels quite well, actually, regardless of the climate, as long as one could actually figure out (possibly from people one doesn't necessarily share a language with) the brewing process. Jeeves being Jeeves, I'm sure that would be no problem at all for him though. Ha, I think I'm also putting far too much thought into an idea that is utter crack. x)
Re: hurrah for nerdyness
Date: 2010-12-26 02:32 pm (UTC)Yeah, the tea leaves would transport well, which is why I wouldn't put it past some Viking or other to bring some back if they ever came across it, but figuring out how to do the brewing would be tricky with different supplies at the ready, not to mention that the social part of tea probably wouldn't have transferred that well to Norse culture, tea-cicles or no tea-cicles : P That's why I think they'd have brought it back much the same way they did everything else that was valued in other cultures: for the novelty and status of having something most people had never even seen before.
The crack!Viking!Jeeves in my head just regretted bringing Chinese silk back for Bertie (who wouldn't last five minutes as a viking, unless he was the son of someone important and had Jeeves to cover for him. Oh, and a different name. Yes, again with the names), and Bertie promptly requested a particularly garish pair of leggings in seven different colours. Norse!Bertie wants pride flag-themed leggings. I need to go eat something before this gets worse..
The Lady 529
*shot for TLDR*
Date: 2010-12-26 05:05 pm (UTC)Talking about names...funnily enough, I looked up the article about Bertram (http://www.behindthename.com/name/bertram) on Behind the Name and apparently it was introduced by the Normans. Of course, that doesn't mean it's specifically of Scandinavian origin...
(btw, the name Reginald is related to Reynold (http://www.behindthename.com/name/reynold) which in turn is derived from Germanic Raginald, from ragin "advice" and wald "rule". Isn't that just generally awesome, even if it doesn't necessarily work as a viking name? ¤3¤ Ragnar could very well work though. *looks up* Ha, "advice" again, and also "army". PFFFFT. xD That or Ragnvaldr, which according to B.t.N is an ancient Scandinavian cognate of Reynold. But more of a mouthful than Ragnar, obviously.)
I see your tl;dr and raise you my own
Date: 2010-12-26 05:42 pm (UTC)Ragnvaldr is probably where the modern Ragnar came from, given the pronounciation and how consonants flowed then and now, especially in certain dialects that are more 'archaic' than others. I don't think Ragnvaldr would have been an uncommon name back then, and Ragnvald without the final 'r' is still a fairly common name (not very, but I doubt anyone would find it odd or archaic or any such thing). Also, I don't find Ragnvaldr to be much of a mouthful, but then I studied the Norse language, its pronounciations and its development into the modern Scandinavic and Icelandic languages for two years in Upper Sec. : )
Bertram is composed of Germanic 'berth' and 'hramn', meaning bright and raven, respectively. I know hramn would have been in use at that time ('ramn' still is), but the modern version 'Bertram' definitely wouldn't have been. The Normans quickly adopted the French language, so I'm not sure how much would still have remained of the Norse way of constructing names. Obviously there are certain traces, but.. I really need another etymological dictionary.
And now I've dug out my favourite book in Norse. If you need me, I'll be over there, reading Hávamál out loud. To myself.
The Lady 529
Re: I see your tl;dr and raise you my own
Date: 2011-01-03 02:12 am (UTC)Re: I see your tl;dr and raise you my own
Date: 2011-01-04 12:19 am (UTC)The Lady 529