Immersion -- Part 1

Okay.... I actually typed up something for the list. I just can't get this idea out of my head. So I thought I might as well share.

Much love, funky old soul, and all that jazz,

Leela
Princess of Slacker Sappiness

Immersion
By: Leela Ganey
Part one of one

Disclaimer: Don't own PLACEBO. I lay no claim to understand the weird personal lives of Brian Molko or Steve Hewitt.
Rating: Right at the moment it is at pg-13is level maybe even :::gasp::: PG(Not PG they all cry.... Yes... PG)... but it will turn into nc-17 later.
Thank Yous: To my wonderful editor Elsie who had the most important task ok taking what I write make sense. The little note pad at work that I wrote most of the story on at work. Thank you to PBS that one day when I was sick and watched a four hour show on vikings and their way of life. Thanks to borders for having a travel book on Sweden.
Feed back: It is always a good thing. Praises to flames are accepted.

Immersion
Part One of ?

Quietly through the mist, they rode to the shore. The evening light was fading. It did not concern those who's goal sat just on the horizon. The monastery was sitting on the cliffs above the waters that the Viking raiding party was trying to reach. Silently they pushed the ores through the cold ocean waters.

Only one of the sea fairing Vikings stood out. He was the only one not rowing the long massive wooden boat. Notably dressed in warm furs of animal that ran wild in his homeland. Ones that he personally had hunted down . He did what his father had done before him. He was a leader. A warrior... He was someone others feared and respected. He always got what the wanted. Just like his father he intended for it to always be that way, until his dying day. Stefan looked at the shore, studying the building that sat on the jagged cliffs. It presented a worthy challenge.

He knew that the monastery was full of gold objects of the backwards religion that the people in this strange land practiced. The boat was brought to the shore. and all of the men piled out of the boat.

Everything round them was quickly being covered by the darkness of night. They crept up the stony path that led up the side of the jagged cliff face. This was going to be a quick attack. All of them knew there was no way this little monastery could defend itself. And they would hit them hard and be gone with whatever they wanted before the monks would know what’d hit them. Finally they stood there in the dark... side by side with the monastery looming above them.

Inside the monastery walls, a man sat on a rock. A rock that had been there long before the monastery and in all likelihood would be there long after it was gone. Another calm night filled with twinkling stars kept the man completely at ease in the middle of the court yard on the rock. He had sat here almost every night since his coming to the monastery more than 10 years ago.

He could still remember his first day. He could remember watching his unloving father ride away on his horse. The sad truth of the matter was that his father did not want him. His mother had died, and his father not wanting anything to do with a son he had always suspected to be not his, did something worse than death to him. He left him. Sure there were worse places he could have ended up. But to have your whole life decided for you at the age of 7? It sometimes seemed just a bit too much. And that is why he sat here. The rock... the calm in the never ending chaos of the everyday life. Something that was long lasting. Home. His home... as much as he tried to hate it and ignore it... One day this place had become home.

But he still could clearly remember the day when he knew he would never see his childhood bed again. His father lifted him off his horse... Set him down. The monks smiled and at him and said that God had brought him here. Then his father mounted his steed and rode away. His father never looked back. Not once. Steve knew at that moment that he was forever here. Just like the rock. He felt like crying, yet no tears would fall. He felt something go with his father that day. Something that went away and never came back. Something that his mother had taken with her to heaven and whatever was left rode away his father.

Steve sighed... he pushed all the upsetting thoughts away. He let himself bask in the secure feeling of his home and the never-ending strength of the rock. He never saw the Vikings enter the court yard. He never saw Stefan creep up behind him with a woolen sack. Then all he saw was darkness. Then a pain at the back of his head and a slight sensation of falling... but he was out before he ever hit the ground.

Stefan and his warriors quickly scoured the monastery. Taking anything of value including four monks that included Steve. All uncurious and unknowing that their journeys did not end here but yet were just beginning. Stefan knew the value of slaves in his homeland. He was sure all four of them, if they lived, would fetch a good price. He watched the warriors load the boat with the bounty they had collected. It was a good raid. Stefan knew if his father was alive he would be proud of what his son had done. When everything was loaded into the boat, Stefan looked out across the water...Home... it was out there... It was waiting for him.

The first thing that Steve was aware of was the horrible throbbing in his head. It ached with a pain he had never felt before. He couldn't understand why his head hurt. He tried to touch his forehead to maybe rub a little of the pain away when he discovered yet another irritating circumstance. His wrists were bound together with leather rope. Slowly what had happened came back to him. He remembered being on the rock in the court yard. Then someone had attacked him. And now... and now... he was... the best he could tell he was on some sort of boat. It was freezing. Much colder than it was at the monastery. They must be heading north. He noticed the ship was the sort made by the barbaric Vikings. That meant that the monastery must have been raided.

He looked round the small boat. No one was awake... well no one that he could tell anyway. He struggled with the leather bonds. The more he pulled and tugged the more they gave way to him. Finally after several minutes of wrestling with them they gave and his hands were now free. Steve was completely unaware that he was yet again being watched by the same man who had captured him.

Stefan laid propped against the side of the long boat. He watched his new acquired slave quietly struggle with his bounds. It was entertaining to say the least. He was very surprised when the slave managed to get them off. The slave was nothing if not tenacious. Stefan watched him walk to the side of the boat and look out over the ocean. He wished for the light of day so he could see this man's face. But at the same time he didn't need to see the man's face to show him what he already knew. Stefan knew he had the look that some of his men got just before they set out on another great journey... the look of 'I will never see my home again.' Now he knew what the small monk before him face's echoed that which he had seen hundreds of times.

Stefan moved closer to the slave. Steve, the slave in question wanted so much to be back home. Not on this wretched boat heading God only knows where.

He just wanted some peace. He wanted to have his own world back. He was not one for adventure or change. So lost in his thoughts he never saw Stefan draw his sword.

Stefan took the tip of his sword and nudged the slave in the shoulder. The slave turned and looked at him. The slave did not cower in fear. Nor did he make any aggressive move against Stefan. He just simply stood there. The look on his face could have spoken volumes... but at the moment it only said "Why?" And the look that seemed to be reflecting on Stefan's face was, "Because I can." No more, no less. Stefan thought the slave curious. He did not seem to care if he was going to die or not. As if he almost dared him to make a move. To strike him down. But alas Stefan put away the sword. He thought to himself... *I might have to keep this one for myself.*

End Part One Of ???

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