An Ancient Custom

Summary: Written for Ba_Lailah as part of the FandomGiftBox. When Peter loses the fight, Miraz takes more than his life
Warning(s): AU; noncon; violence
Pairing: Miraz/Peter (aged to 18)

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The two fighters clashed together in the middle of the ring, surrounded on all sides by Narnians and Telmarines, both armies cheering for one fighter or the other.

Underneath his golden mask, Miraz narrowed his eyes. The younger man had already drawn first blood, blade clashing across Miraz’s back. In retaliation, he delivered a strike to Peter’s head that had his opponent’s helm knocked off. Then, when the younger man stumbled back, dazed, he allowed his blade to cut across the unprotected skin of his throat. Not deep; enough to draw blood and to hurt, but it would be painful.

Peter was breathing deeply, his eyes wide and sweat trickling down into his eyes. Miraz’s mask was still in place, but in comparison to the younger man, his breathing was slow and even. The cut across his back stung, but it was a pain he could ignore as he focused on his opponent.

Peter was younger than him, even though he was still clearly a man. His eyes were darting around the battlefield, taking in everything. The cheering from the Narnians and the jeering from his fellow Telmarines was clearly affecting the former high king.

Miraz stepped back, taking stock of the situation and giving himself time to decide on his next move. His eyes narrowed behind his mask as Peter lunged forward, towards him, swinging his sword wildly. Neatly sidestepping to one side, Miraz drove his armoured fist into Peter’s exposed stomach.

The younger man doubled over, his breath escaping him in a whoosh of air. Miraz reversed his own sword, grasping the blade, and slammed the hilt into Peter’s chest, knocking him flat to his back onto the ground. He then put his foot on the younger man’s chest and turned his weapon once more, holding the blade against his opponent’s neck.

Peter stared up at Miraz, his eyes wide, his chest heaving.

Miraz pressed the sword more firmly against Peter’s throat, drawing another trickle of blood. “Yield. Or I will kill you.”

Peter tried to push himself up, but Miraz merely pressed down harder with his foot and kept his sword in place. “Your time has long since passed. You are mere relics from an ancient time. And I have defeated you. I will not hesitate to kill you. I will not hesitate to kill your brother and sisters. If you want to save them, you will do as I say.”

Peter closed his eyes, a tiny trickle of moisture seeping out of one. When he opened them again and focused on Miraz, there was a clear look of defeat on his face. “What do you want?”

“Tell them.” Miraz pressed his foot more firmly against Peter’s chest. “Tell them that you yield. That you surrender.”

Peter’s eyes rolled back, towards the army of Narnians gathered around. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lips moving silently. Then, in a loud voice, he called, “I yield! Miraz has beaten me in battle.”

The wave of despair that rippled through the Narnians reached Miraz’s ears and his own people cheered at the clear victory.

“Don’t hurt them.” Peter looked pleadingly up at Miraz.

“You shouldn’t worry about them.” Miraz used his free hand to remove his mask, letting it drop to the grass with a thump. “You should worry about yourself.” He sheathed his sword and knelt down on the ground next to Peter, beginning to unstrap his armour.

Eyes widening, Peter batted his hands away. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t tell me you’re unaware of the ancient Narnian custom. The ‘spoils of war’. I beat you in single combat and now, I claim you as my prize.” Grasping Peter’s hands in one of his, Miraz held them up and out of the way. His other hand continued to unstrap and unlace every bit of armour, removing each piece in turn and putting it to one side.

“You can’t do this!” Peter protested, his voice hitching, his eyes growing even wider.

Miraz leaned in close to Peter’s ear to whisper, “You should have familiarised yourself better with the ancient rules and customs. You belong to me now. You yielded.” He sat back, surveying Peter’s body, clad only in his underwear and undershirt now.

Peter swallowed visibly. “You tricked me,” he whispered.

“I did not force you to yield.” Miraz let his hand slide up under the shirt, pinching each nipple in turn. He smiled grimly at the soft yelps his actions elicited and then drew his dagger from its sheath at his belt. He sliced up through the undershirt and then tore it apart, ripping the material from the younger man’s body.

With only his underwear now in place, Miraz removed his weapons belt and placed it on the grass. As Peter watched him, his body trembling, as Miraz began to strip himself of his own armour, placing it in a neat pile.

Once he himself was only wearing his underclothes, Miraz returned his attention to Peter’s supine body. He took hold of the younger man’s hands once more, holding them up above his head, and then pinched and squeezed his nipples once more, turning each of them into hard, pebbled nubs under his fingers.

Peter closed his eyes, his body tensing up, a soft whimper escaping through his tightly clenched lips His body tensed up visibly as Miraz ghosted his fingers down over his stomach, lightly scratching along soft skin with his nails.

The sounds of protests from the Narnians reached Miraz’s ears, but he knew they wouldn’t dare to interfere. After all, this was an ancient law. An ancient custom. Peter belonged to him now. Their High King belonged to him now.

Miraz lowered his head to Peter’s chest and engulfed one of the hard nipples in his mouth. He grunted in satisfaction as the younger man cried out and his body jerked up.

He took his time on the nipple, turning it hard and sensitive. When he pulled back finally, it was bright red and swollen; and Peter was whimpering softly. His face was bright red and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Miraz turned his attention to the opposite nipple and pulled it into his mouth as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter’s hands clench into fists by his sides.

Sliding his hand down Peter’s chest and over his stomach, Miraz pinched the skin just above the waistline of his underwear. Then, he tugged the last bit of clothing down and off Peter’s body, leaving the younger man completely naked and vulnerable on the grass.

By the time Miraz relented a little, pulling back from the nipples, both were red and swollen and clearly very sensitive. He flicked each one in turn, listening to Peter’s faint gasps, then lowered his head to the younger man’s chest, beginning to nip his way down to Peter’s member.

The younger man had an erection, responding to the stimulus, and Miraz closed his fingers around it, smearing precum over the tip. He then gripped Peter’s hips, squeezing them hard, before rolling him over onto his stomach.

Parting Peter’s cheeks, Miraz let his finger ghost over the hole, exploring. He felt the younger man shiver and whimper under him, his hands clenching into fists once more. His whole body was stiff with tension and every time Miraz touched him that intimately, his toes curled on the ground and his legs jerked.

Leaning forward, Miraz bit Peter’s shoulder and then began to suck hard on the skin. By the time he pulled back, there was a lurid mark there. Miraz took a few moments to admire his handiwork and then began to suck on the back of Peter’s neck, only pulling back when there was another mark left behind.

“Please….” Peter’s whimper was soft.

Miraz pinched one buttock and then squeezed the same spot. “You’re paying the price for your ignorance now. You are fortunate that I’m more interested in your body than in taking your life.” He parted Peter’s legs, fingers grazing over his member, and then reached for his weapons belt.

There was a pouch containing his supplies also attached to his supplies and Miraz withdrew a small vial of oil that he normally used for cleaning his sword. He quickly removed his own underwear and used the oil liberally on his own member, grasping Peter’s hips once more to push inside the younger man.

Peter’s yelp was one of shock and sounded a bit pained. Miraz grasped his hips and began to pound inside the younger man.

The quiet gasps and groans Peter gave were barely audible as Miraz thrust inside him. He whimpered audibly when Miraz leaned over to bite and suck on his skin, leaving more marks behind. Miraz continued to hold him still and steady with his hands on the younger man’s hips.

It didn’t take long before Miraz released inside Peter. He heard a quiet sob and felt the younger man slump beneath him, as Peter’s own release hit at the same time.

Miraz waited until his own member had gone flaccid and then pulled out of Peter. He pulled his own underwear back into place and then stood up, before pulling Peter to his feet. He lifted the younger man over his shoulder and turned his attention to the Narnian army. “I expect you to officially surrender at the castle by the time the sun sets.” Turning, he began to march back towards the castle, one hand clasping Peter possessively. “And when we reach the castle, I’ll cover your entire body with marks,” he promised the younger man.

Peter whimpered softly.

“And,” Miraz continued, striding purposefully, “I think I have something that will keep those nipples nice and hot and sensitive even when they’re not in my mouth or being squeezed.” A low whine was the only response he got and he squeezed each of Peter’s legs. “I think both of us made the right choice here,” he said with satisfaction.

The End