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Immersion -- Part 2 Okay this fic is stuck in my brain... I feel a need to write it all out. I want to know where it will go and how it will end. This weekend I plan to go to the library and learn more about vikings and sweden. If anyone speaks swedish... could they e-mail me privately... I want to pick you brain on some things about the language. Much love, funky old soul, and all that jazz, Leela Princess of Slacker Sappiness Immersion By Leela Ganey Part Two *See part One for disclaimers and such. Immersion Steve didn't know how much longer he could deal with being on this wretched boat. It seemed like they had been on this boat for ages... With no end in sight... No... All he could see was water. Water... Just water. No escape. Not that he could even if he wanted to. He was no match for any of the warriors on this boat. They all were about a foot taller than him and carried an assortment of weapons. Even with all this set aside... Whoever appeared to be the leader of this band of warriors had decided to keep him in his sight at all time. So, he was stuck sitting at the front of the boat under the watchful eye of the barbarian. Steve’s stomach hurt again. Who would have known he was the type of person to get sea sick? He looked out over the boat. Jared, one his best friends had been set to row with other warriors and so had William. Sadly, Thomas had died yesterday. Steve was not allowed to touch his body but he watched as it was looked over and then tossed over the side of the boat. He wouldn't ever receive a proper burial. He hoped God would take mercy on Thomas' soul. He closed his eyes as the boat rode another wave. *I am not going to throw up. I am not going to throw up.* He just repeated that over and over to himself. When the boat and his stomach finally settled down a little he opened his eyes. A tan face with brown eyes was starring back in to his own brown eyes. It was their leader. He had what seemed like a puzzled look on his face. **Maybe his people don't get sea sick,** Steve thought. The man handed Steve a chunk of bread. The thought of eating made Steve's stomach protest. Steve shook his head ‘no‘. He really wished he could speak to this man. Ask him where he was going and to tell him that he didn't want any bread. Stefan looked at the slave. He seemed paler than he did yesterday. He had already lost one slave, he did not want to lose another. He pushed the bread closer to the slave. The slave had not eaten anything in the past two days. Stefan feared if he kept refusing to eat then he would die. The slave shook his head at him... Stefan could only guess he was refusing to eat. He gave the slave a very stern look. The slave looked away. Stefan was at a loss of what to do with him. He was so different, almost tiny compared to himself. Extremely pale with the blackest hair Stefan had ever seen. He couldn't be that old, maybe somewhere around his own age. The slave didn't look very strong. Which was one of the reasons he wasn't rowing, Stefan didn't think he would be able to keep up. In few more days time Stefan knew he would be home. Sleeping in his own bed with his belly full of good food. He couldn't wait to be back. He set the bread in the slave's lap, maybe the slave didn't want to take anything from his hand. But there would be more than enough time when he got home to break in his new acquired slave. Another day at sea had gone by... Steve still refused to eat. Stefan had still refused to try to get him to eat every hour or so. Finally close to sunset of that day, Stefan got a small piece of bread, wet it down with ale and looked over at the slave. "You are going to eat this. Or I am going to force it down your throat." Stefan wished for the gazillion time that his slave could understand him. He tried handing the piece of bread to the Slave. Steve leaned back from the barbarian, he didn't want it. The man seemed intent on him eating something. He tried looking away, maybe if he showed a lack of interest the man would leave him alone. The man reached out and turned Steve's head back to look at him. Well, so much for ignoring him in the hopes he would go away. He was offered the bread again. He shook his head 'no'. Stefan sighed. There was no way to make this slave understand that he needed to eat. He had seen slaves starve themselves to death. He was not about to watch this one do that. Stefan quickly pushed the slave on to his back and straddled him. The slave let out a little yelp of surprise from being pushed back. Stefan held the bread to the slaves lips. He gave him another stern look. He could feel the slave sigh, his whole body shuddered. The slave took a bit of the bread from Stefan's fingers, chewed it up and the swallowed it. Stefan knew the look that he was being given by the slave now. It clearly said, 'Are you happy now?' No, he wasn't going be happy until he ate at least half of a loaf of bread. He got another piece from the loaf beside him and held it to the slave. He watched the slave think about it for a few moments, then eat the bread that was offered. Steve hated the indignity of being not only on the cold damp deck of the boat, but being forced fed as well was simply horrid. He thought the sooner he ate however much it was that this man wants him to eat, then the sooner he will let him up. Finally when Steve had satisfied what ever quota in the barbarian's mind he was left alone. He sat up. It was dark. The wind blew very hard for several seconds. And now it was getting even colder than it was today. He yawned. He did not want to spend another cold night on this boat. He did not want to be going where it was they were going. He wanted to be home, damnit! He wanted to be where he was safe and had good food. Sometime close to dawn Steve fell asleep. Stefan could see his village. They were coming at around midday. He could see the green fields and small wooden homes scattered down the shore line. He looked his slave. He decided he should see this. After all it was going to be his new home. He grabbed the slaves arm and yanked him up. Dragging him not only to his feet but to consciousness as well. The poor slave looked very sleepy and confused. Stefan pointed out into the distance. Steve looked to where he was pointing. This was the end of their journey. He looked at the little houses. The other ships in and around the port. So this was to be his new home. He sighed. He could hear the warriors talking somewhere behind him. He could no doubt guess that they were talking about what they were going to do when they got home. How great it was to be here and how they had missed it all. He felt the barbarian touch his neck, directing him to look at something... He pointed to a house on a hill. Steve assumed that was where he lived and they were going. 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