Even When It’s Hard

Summary: Tag to the end of book one, Traitor’s Blade. Falcio still carries a lot of guilt, even if he was following his King’s orders. His best friend helps
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first and second books of The Greatcoats series; references to violence and torture; mentions of canon character death
Author’s Note: If you haven’t heard of The Greatcoats, I highly recommend the series if you enjoy fantasy that’s got a lot more grit to it

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Recovering from the poisoning wasn’t exactly easy. Falcio’s body still wanted to give up. If he did that, he’d get to see his wife again. He’d get to see his King again. And there were times he was tempted to just let go and let the remnants of the poison carry him away. That was probably why, every morning he woke up, it was harder and harder for his body to move. He was spending more and more time paralysed when he came to in the mornings. And even if Kest and Brasti didn’t say anything, he knew they were worried about him.

This morning, it had felt like a full hour before his body had finally started to obey his mind and he’d been able to move. He was sure it hadn’t been anything like that long, but try telling his body that.

“You were out for three minutes this time.”

Falcio glanced up, his eyes meeting and holding Kest’s. “It felt like an hour,” he admitted, his voice hoarse.

“It’s not.” Kest paused before saying, “Not yet, at least.”

What he didn’t say hung in the air between them. That the amount of time Falcio was paralysed for was gradually increasing every day. Eventually, it would take him over entirely. Instead of saying that, though, he asked, “Where’s Brasti?”

“I sent him out,” Kest replied. “I wanted to talk to you alone. And Brasti’s nearly as talkative as you are.”

Falcio frowned, wondering just what it was that Kest didn’t want to say with the third member of their group absent. He pushed himself up slowly off the bed, groaning as his muscles creaked and protested. “If he thinks he’s missing out, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I don’t think he’ll be that upset about missing out on this even if either of us do tell him.” Kest walked over and sat down on the bed.

Falcio looked at his best friend and sighed. “Why do I get the feeling this conversation isn’t going to be one I’ll enjoy?” He sat down on the bed; sank down, really. “What do we need to talk about, Kest?” he asked, a resigned note in his voice.

“You were ready to die.”

“I was poisoned,” Falcio protested. “Dying is kind of a side effect of that. A pretty major one, in fact.”

“That’s not what the Tailor said,” Kest replied. “All it did was remove your will to stay alive. We nearly lost you, Falcio. What do you think would have happened if you’d given up? If you’d followed that path to its conclusion? What would have happened to Aline? To me and Brasti?”

“You’re talking like I planned to die.”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Kest’s voice was soft.

Falcio shook his head. “I don’t want to die.” Well, he didn’t want to die right now, at least. But he was beginning to think he didn’t have a choice. The poison was inside him and there was nothing he could do to change that fact.

“So you need something to hold onto,” Kest said. “A reason to keep on fighting through the poison every day.” He paused and then added, “A way to let go of your guilt.”

“I don’t feel guilty.” Falcio’s response was given immediately and, when Kest just looked at him, he shook his head. “Fine. I do feel guilty. But I don’t that’s something you can help me with, Kest.” This might have been the first time he’d admitted it out loud. As much as he told himself he’d been following the orders of his King…following those orders had not only ended their King’s life, it had ended his dreams as well.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss my idea,” Kest replied. “Maybe it won’t stop you being paralysed every morning, but it might give you a reason to fight your way back. If you didn’t feel so much guilt and pain.”

“And what’s your idea?” Falcio couldn’t hide the resigned note that crept into his voice. It wasn’t often that Kest pushed an issue with him; and each time he did, he always had a good point. Although, right now, he had the feeling that Kest didn’t plan to talk.

Kest reached out and took Falcio’s hand. Then, with a simple tug, he pulled Falcio across his lap, pinning him with a leg lock and twisting his arm up and behind his back.

Falcio lay still and quiet for a few moments before he began to struggle in earnest. “Kest! I’m not joking around here. Let me up.”

“I’m not joking around either, Falcio. I told you, I have an idea to help you with your guilt.”

Falcio opened his mouth, but before he could voice a protest, or curse his best friend, Kest’s hand landed in a firm smack on his backside. And then, before he could do anything other than gasp in reaction, a second and third smack landed, each one at a different point on his backside. He continued to struggle, but each swat was delivered unerringly on target and it didn’t take long before his entire backside was stinging, from the crest down to mid-thigh.

And then Kest began the spanking over from the crest once more and Falcio’s struggles and squirms were accompanied by quiet gasps and almost-whimpers that he bit off before they had the chance to escape. “Kest, stop.” There was a rough edge to his voice. If his friend carried on, there was every chance Falcio might break. And he couldn’t face that. He’d been broken by torture before; somehow, being broken because his best friend was spanking him was so much worse.

“I won’t,” Kest answered, his voice steady and calm. “You need help, Falcio. I know the guilt you carry. Do you think none of us feel the same way? We all stood down and let them take our King. It wasn’t just you.”

“But I was the one who gave the order.” Falcio’s voice hitched and it caught him by surprise.

“And we followed those orders. None of us had to, but we chose to.” As Kest spoke, he tugged Falcio’s britches down.

There was an instant of cool air wafting across his bared backside and then the spanking resumed, this time on his bare backside. And it hurt a whole lot more on bare skin than it had with his britches protecting his backside.

“Me and Brasti? We’re here because you’re our friend,” Kest said. “Our leader, too. But that’s because we believe in you. I trusted you enough not to kill Valiana.”

“That would have been a mistake anyway, since Valiana wasn’t the true daughter,” Falcio muttered.

“Well, none of us were aware of that. But my point still stands. You carry a huge amount of guilt that you don’t need to feel.” With the last four words, he delivered four extra hard smacks to the tops of Falcio’s thighs.

In response, Falcio couldn’t hold back his yelps. Somehow, though, his body had relaxed, as if he was accepting the punishment…accepting the spanking…without conscious thought. Kest’s hand was hard and callused and he could feel each one as Kest delivered every single swat. And tears blurred his eyes, filling them despite his attempts to hold them back.

Kest began to smack harder and faster, swatting until the first tears began to fall and the first harsh sob was torn from his throat. Then, he paused.

Falcio’s body relaxed, but the next moment, he tensed up as he felt something wide and flat rest across his backside. “Is that…?” He glanced back over his shoulder.

“The flat of my sword? Yeah.” Kest didn’t say anything else and instead brought the flat of the blade down hard, across both cheeks at once.

The yelp that escaped Falcio’s mouth was high-pitched and would have embarrassed him, had not the burn across his backside taken all of his attention. And then it came down a second and a third time and the tears that had been leaking now began to flow full force.

The pain of each individual stroke was hard to distinguish from the burn that now covered his entire backside, down to mid-thigh. Falcio couldn’t help it; his legs began to jerk in response to the hard strikes. He couldn’t kick, because Kest had his legs pinned. But his body writhed in response to the hard strikes as the tears flowed down his cheeks and threatened to blind him.

He lost count of the amount of times the flat of the blade had landed over his bottom and thighs, but eventually, his whole body slumped over his best friend’s lap. Finally, he became aware of the fact that the punishment had stopped and that Kest was rubbing his back. And he knew that he should get up, pull his clothing back into place and take charge again…but there was something almost comforting about being in this position, despite the raging fire on his bottom.

Kest seemed to guess at what he felt, because he said, “You know, we’ve got a bit of time before Brasti will come looking for either of us. If you need to take a bit of time before you take up the mantle of leadership again, it won’t be a problem.”

“Yeah.” Falcio sighed. “Just give me a few minutes.” He breathed in deep and let his body relax, just letting his best friend be in control for a little while.

The End