Author: Milady Dragon
Summary: When Master Archivist Ianto Jones of Torchwood Castle discovers the presence of a powerful magical Artifact, Baroness Gwen Williams hires Captain Jack Harkness and his band of mercenaries to retrieve it.
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones; Gwen Williams/Rhys WIlliams
Warning: M/M Situations, Fantasy violence
Spoilers: None really; mostly for Doctor Who S1 episodes "Bad Wolf" and "Parting of the Ways", and Torchwood S1 "Everything Changes" and S2 "Fragments". Although the stories have been warped to fit into a fantasy setting.
Author's Note: This is Torchwood in a fantasy setting. Everything that could be considered alien in the normal universe is magical here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, if I did I'd have treated it better. It - and Doctor Who - are owned by the BBC, and created by Russell T. Davies.
A/N2: This is my first attempt at smut, so beware...
They managed to get everything from camp into the large central hall of the tower before the storm hit in earnest.
Thunder echoed through the stone hall; wind whistled and invaded the room from the broken windows, the sounds disturbing the horses as they stood, hobbled, farther back and near the stairs. Toshiko had finally taken pity on the beasts, and had resorted to blindfolding them, which seemed to calm them down somewhat.
Ianto's mucking about with the tower's Perception spell had, indeed, seemed to diminish its affect on them. Once Suzie and Toshiko got the impromptu fire pit up and a nice blaze started, an almost comfortable atmosphere pervaded their camp. Ianto helped with dinner, and made them their evening coffee fix, much to Owen's happiness – or what passed for happiness in the battle surgeon, which was a slight lessening of sarcasm. Jack shared more stories over the meal, and Ianto was once again left with the impression that the mercenary was making up more than was actually truthful.
But then, how can one judge when the storyteller had over a thousand years' worth of experiences to fall back on?
The storm seemed to rage on, as the group cleaned up after their meal and readied themselves for bed. Ianto was tired, and his head was hurting from the strain of using his new-found powers so much; but he found himself pottering around the makeshift camp, and it was when he'd gone to get an armload of the firewood they'd managed to gather, that he was startled by an unexpectedly serious Owen.
"I don't like that thing."
Ianto glanced in the direction the other man was indicating; the metal casket sat just beyond the firelight, the gloom surrounding it like a shroud. "At least you didn't see the Artifacts inside," he commented softly. "You'd like it even less."
"It…makes my teeth itch," Owen continued. "Like it's somehow watching me."
The archivist wondered if the man had some sort of sensitivity to magic, but dismissed the notion. The surgeon had good instincts, and was most likely picking up his and Jack's unease over it. "It's…not right," he confessed. "The Gauntlet seems harmless, but the Dagger…it's dangerous. It needs to be locked away so no one can ever get to it again."
"We can't just drop it back into its hole and leave it?"
Ianto shook his head. "It may have stayed safe for this long, but I don't trust that it will for much longer. Someone knows what we're after."
"The spells around the room wouldn't be enough?" Toshiko asked, coming to join them.
"You saw how easy it was to actually find the paving stone. Anyone paying the least bit of attention is going to notice someone avoiding that particular section of floor. Besides, I wasn't able to reset the trap. It…was beyond me." He was still irritated with himself, yet at the same time Ianto knew he had limits, and casting such spells was simply something he didn't have the experience with. Plus the very darkness of the magic disturbed him almost as much as the presence of the Dagger. "It's not safe to leave them here."
"It's...creepy," the Elf said, her voice dropping. "Just looking at the chest sends a shiver down my spine."
"Suzie seems to like it, though," Owen added. "But then she's always liked sharp objects. Guess that extends to ones she can't even see."
Ianto had noticed Suzie's somewhat strange behavior around the box. She'd often touch or stroke the lid, and her blank expression was even more disturbing than looking inside the actual chest.
"From what you've said," Toshiko said, "the Gauntlet is said to be somewhat addictive. What about the Dagger?"
"If I had to guess…then I'd have to say it would be, from what the scroll says it can do. There's nothing that states it outright, though."
The woman shivered. "I can't understand why someone would make an object that can actually steal souls."
Ianto didn't know, either. And it bothered him.
The mercenaries settled down for the night, curled up in their bedrolls as the storm still lashed the stone around them.
Ianto couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, finding the floor under him more uncomfortable than the ground outside. The wind that blew through the entry hall was cold, and he burrowed under his blanket in order to keep warm. The archivist did a quick calculation, and realized that it would be winter soon. They would be back in Cardiff before the worst of the weather hit, unless there was some delay…
No, he didn't want to think that. He still didn't have any clue as to why John Hart had come after him, had kidnapped him and had thought he could get money for the Artifacts. His only goal was to get those to Cardiff, where they could be locked up in the lowest of the Secure Archives, and never brought into the light of day again.
The young man sighed. He didn't want to lie there any longer; his mind wouldn't let him rest and he felt like he needed to be doing something. Ianto sat up, glancing around at his companions; they all looked to be asleep, although from Owen's snoring it was obvious that at least one of them was out for the night. He sighed again, throwing the blanket off.
Myfanwy's head lifted; the dragon had been curled up nearest the fire, and the flames glittered in her red scales as if her skin itself was on fire. She chirped quietly, looking at him with those intelligent green eyes, waiting to see what he was going to do.
He smiled softly at her. "Stay here," he mouthed, hoping she would hear him.
She apparently did; her head went back down into her front paws, her eyes closing once more. Ianto couldn't believe how much he loved the dragon, in just the short day he'd had her. The dragon already seemed as if she'd been a part of his life forever.
He rose to his feet, gathering his pack and his blanket with him. Ianto had seen a door deeper within the tower, when they'd been setting up camp; that would be a good place to set himself up for the night, so he wouldn't disturb anyone.
The stones were cold against his socked feet as he padded toward the door he'd found. He passed the horses, being careful not to frighten them even more than they already were. A loud crash of thunder growled through the sky like a bear hunting for its dinner, and the accompanying flash of lightning illuminated the archivist's way through the tower. He was at his destination before the afterglow faded, and he hoped that the door wouldn't squeal too much as he pushed it open.
It didn't, and Ianto found himself in darkness beyond. Rifling though his pack, he found his light globe and activated it, sending the brilliant beams searching to every corner.
It must have been some sort of parlor or audience room. A large fireplace dominated one wall, and on the opposite what looked like large blanks spaces that must have once held portraits of some sort, judging from the lighter square and rectangular patches that marked their former places. One small picture remained, but was so covered in grime that it was impossible to see what it had once been of. As with the room belowground, this one was in a horrible state of decay, although there was so much more dust and dirt than below. Ianto thought it was because of the broken window, high in the wall, that had let the filth in.
He pushed the door shut behind him, then found the clearest section of floor available. It was beside the fireplace, and Ianto wished that he could light a fire within the large space. He didn't dare; there was no telling what was up inside the chimney, and he didn't want something coming out after him, dislodged by hot air.
Instead, he lay his blanket down on the cold floor, then sat with his back against the wall. It was slightly warmer in the room, since the window was a bit smaller and farther up on the wall. He thought he might be a bit comfortable there, for the time it took for him to get tired enough to sleep.
He got into his pack again, pulling out a pair of books. One was the book he'd bought in Haven: Fantastical Tales; the second was the unmarked tome he'd pulled from the magical room upstairs. Both puzzled him greatly, and hoped he could exhaust himself trying to work them out in order to sleep later.
Ianto picked up Fantastical Tales first. It brought the familiar tingle to his fingers as he opened the cover. He'd not had much chance to look at it before, and he doubted he'd solve much of anything in this dank tower, but it gave his mind something to chew on.
It looked like a normal book of children's stories, written in the common speech. Ianto glanced at the title for the first chapter: "The Golems of Sontara", and as he began reading he found himself caught up in the tale of a Wizard and his human companions trying to defeat a magical golem set in its mission to gather information on the kingdom in order for another in invade. The second story, "The Great Ark", was even more interesting: the same Wizard from the first chapter, along with his companions, trying to save a great collection of animals and plants from a devouring monster. It was almost like sitting at his Gran's knee once more, listening as she wove her words into imaginative sagas of Wizards battling evil and making the world safe for normal people.
He was deep into the third chapter, "The Revenge of the Metal Men" when a soft chuckle drew his attention from the book and up toward the door, his heart hammering at the surprising interruption.
Jack stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, the amused look on his handsome face somewhat obscured by the shadows beyond the light globe. "You looked so cute, sitting there," he murmured, coming toward the archivist, "that I didn't want to bother you."
Ianto bristled. "I am not cute, and I'm offended that you see me that way…sir."
A look passed through Jack's eyes, and it just fueled the younger man's notion that him calling the captain "sir" was no longer just a term of respect for the immortal.
"You should be sleeping," the mercenary said, coming to stand next to Ianto.
"Couldn't," he answered.
"So you decided leaving camp would be a good idea?" Jack slid down beside him, and Ianto could feel the other man's body warm against his shoulder and arm.
"Myfanwy was there," he pointed out, trying to ignore the immortal's closeness. "You could see she wasn't distressed or anything."
"True. Which is why I didn't wake everyone up and send out the search parties for you." He glanced at the book. "So…whatcha reading?"
Ianto was almost insanely glad that Jack had come to look for him, even though there had been no sign of him being in trouble. "It's a book I picked up in Haven," he explained.
"I remember that. You were clutching onto it like it was a lifeline, back when I found you after Smith's attack on you."
"Well…yeah, I bought it in Haven. But it was because it had a Perception spell on it, and I couldn't figure out why. I still can't since it seems to just be a book of children's tales."
"What about the other book?"
Ianto turned to regard the second book, where he'd put it down on the blanket near his legs. "I…took that one from the room upstairs. I think…I think it's a gramaryia. "
"That would make sense," Jack said. "Where else would a Wizard keep his spell book but in a secret room with a lethal trap on it?"
Ianto nodded, his fingers itching to stroke the cover of the supposed gramaryia. "My only worry is that its magic is in a direction I don't want to go. Judging from the spells he'd put around the tower, plus his ownership of the Gauntlet and Dagger…I can't help but think he was a dark Wizard. And honestly, Jack…that's not what I want to learn."
"But I do know you have the sense to know what spells you can and cannot use."
There it was…that confidence Jack seemed to have in him. He looked at the immortal; the mercenary was looking at him, and their faces were so close…
Ianto didn't know who moved first, but suddenly Jack's lips were on his and their tongues were exploring each other's mouths.
The magic was there; somewhere in the back of his mind Ianto wondered if Jack could feel it, too…that tingling on his tongue and palate like he'd just taken a drink of the best sparkling wine. He moaned as the kiss deepened and became more passionate, the book he'd been holding tossed aside in order for Ianto to pull Jack closer and tangle his fingers in the older man's hair. Jack turned so his hands could cup Ianto's face, stroking the archivist's cheekbones and the delicious tingling followed that soft touch…
Ianto didn't know how long they sat there, only that the kiss seemed to go from passionate to soft and then back again. They only pulled apart when air became a necessity, only to start again until the next time they needed to part. During one such time Ianto found that Jack had somehow straddled his thighs, trapping the younger man under his weight. Ianto didn't mind; he slid his hands down to Jack's waist, tugging him a bit closer and glad the other man had removed all his armor for the night.
He gasped as the mercenary moved farther up Ianto's lap, his groin rubbing against Ianto's burgeoning erection. Gods, he'd never been this aroused before in his life; not even when they'd lay on the floor after capturing Myfanwy. He wanted Jack, in ways he'd never wanted anyone before. He'd tried to fight against the attraction, but it had been impossible.
Jack finally pulled even further away, looking at Ianto as if trying to see into his soul. His normally bright blue eyes were dark with desire, yet at the same time he seemed to be uncertain of how to proceed. "Ianto…" he whispered, running his thumb along the archivist's lower lip.
Jack actually growled at that, his mouth darting forward to nuzzle at Ianto's neck. He tilted his head to give him more access, letting out a moan when the captain hit a particularly erogenous zone. "I've wanted this…Gods, I've needed this…" he murmured into Ianto's ear, and all he could do was moan again in response.
Fingers were working at the buttons of Ianto's tunic, and the younger man returned the favor, deftly opening Jack's shirt even as the other man was leaving what he was doing to the archivist's neck and moving downward at each bit of bared flesh he found. When Jack reached a nipple, Ianto arched up, gasping in pleasure as that mouth nipped and licked the sensitive nub, and it was all Ianto could do not to buck the other man off.
He managed to get Jack's shirt off, and he ran his hands down the mercenary's well-muscled back, and down to the waistband of the trousers. Ianto tugged Jack forward once again, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.
Which Jack obliged.
The immortal's strong fingers were working at the buttons of Ianto's flies, knuckles grazing the archivist's erection every time he moved. Ianto was beginning to pant as his cock was finally released from the very tight trousers, and it took Jack no time at all to put a hand inside and stroke him lightly.
"Please, Jack…" Ianto was practically begging, even as his own hands began their work at Jack's waist. If he was honest with himself – and really, he was too far gone not to be – he would have known this wasn't exactly where he'd hoped his first sexual experience with a man would have been, on a dirty floor in a nearly demolished tower during a thunderstorm. But this was Jack, and despite any sort of denial he might make out loud and to anyone who might listen, he'd been attracted to him for a very long time.
Somehow Jack got the younger man's trousers and underwear off, and as Ianto was trying to do the same the immortal pulled away just enough and leaned over, his mouth suddenly on Ianto's cock.
That sensation pretty much destroyed any form of coherent thought he might have had. There was only Jack and the pressure on his legs and the warm heat of his mouth and nothing else mattered…
He was able to wonder if this was what it was like to be driven mad, and if so then Ianto would take madness any time.
He tried to thrust his hips up, but Jack held onto his hips, keeping Ianto still. There were noises coming from the archivist's mouth, but they certainly weren't translatable. He fisted his hands in Jack's hair, trying to guide him to where Ianto wanted him…but the captain seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and resisted the pressure.
It was over embarrassingly quickly.
There was a sudden rush of heat, and Ianto came violently, gasping Jack's name in pleasure only because he was too breathless to scream. He looked down, as the other man was looking up at him; Jack's blue eyes were twinkling as he pulled himself upward.
As soon as he was in range, Ianto was going back to work on getting Jack's trousers off. He fumbled a bit, his fingers shaking still in the aftermath of his orgasm, but was single-minded in his task. He maneuvered the man back against the wall, as he finally managed to release Jack's own cock to the open air.
He stared at it. Ianto couldn't help himself. This was the first time he'd actually ever seen another man's penis, and above all else wanted to remember what Jack looked like, with erection bared and looking debauched from the mind altering blow job he'd just given. Ianto held this picture in his mind, savoring it, knowing that it had been him who'd helped make this image.
Jack's voice brought him back to himself. Staring into those concerned eyes, he knew what the answer to Jack's query would be. He folded his hand around that cock, and slowly began to pump it, moving his hand in different ways to see how Jack reacted. The mercenary closed his eyes, resting the back of his head against the cold wall, his mouth open and his breathing ragged.
Ianto leaned over, running his tongue over the tip of Jack's member, earning a groan from the other man. He was feeling a little uncertain, worried that he was going to mess up, but from the noises Jack was making he seemed to be enjoying it.
As for the taste…Gods, it was strange, but in a good way. Salty and warm and so full of life. Ianto took the chance, and closed his lips over the head of Jack's cock, sucking in the same way Jack had, hoping the captain would like it the same as Ianto had.
He hadn't had anything to worry about.
In minutes, Jack was twitching. "I'm gonna…" he tried to say, but Ianto's mouth on him shut him up.
The captain's penis pulsed, and then Ianto was trying to swallow without spitting anything out of his mouth. He didn't succeed, but as he sat up Jack's finger caressed his lip, wiping the semen from Ianto's chin. Then he licked the finger, his eyes smiling.
Then they were kissing again, but it was a soft, quiet thing; almost like a promise of more to come. Once they pulled back, Jack smiled gently. "We should get some sleep."
Ianto nodded, returning the smile. "I think you might have just managed to tire me out."
That made the man chuckle. "So, I'm better than a book?"
"Oh yes," Ianto whispered. "Much better."