Every Breath You Take

Summary: Denth might not believe he deserves redemption. Vasher is tired of loss and he already killed one friend

Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the entire book Warbreaker; AU; violence; references to torture

Author's Note: If you enjoy reading fantasy, I would strongly suggest you give Warbreaker a try. It's actually available to read for free on Brandon Sanderson's website.

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“My life to yours, my Breath become yours.”

Vasher watched as his Breaths were absorbed into Denth; watched as his former friend stumbled and his whole body shook with pleasure. In contrast, Vasher's own world turned dark and grey. All he had left was the Breath he'd Returned with; the one that kept him alive. It was a sensation he was all too familiar with.

Standing as Denth fell to his knees, Vasher ripped the dagger from the dead body next to him. But then he hesitated. He'd killed Arsteel. He'd killed Shashara. And he knew Denth wouldn't thank him for choosing to let him live. Perhaps killing him would be a kindness.

“Colours,” Vasher swore, dropping the dagger. Without his Breaths, he couldn't move nearly as fast as Denth. And he didn't have long before the effect of the Breaths would wear off. His whole body throbbed and ached and blood trickled from the wound Denth had dealt him.

He only had a second to act. A second to take charge, like he used to so long ago...before the forging of Nightblood. Before the Lifeless had grown far past beyond anything any of them could have imagined.

Vasher grabbed Denth's shoulder, hauling him to his feet. He propped his leg up on the closest wall and he pulled the other man over it, twisting his right arm up behind his back. This certainly wasn't the most comfortable position they'd ever been in, but it was one that was quickly familiar to him.

The sound of his hand slapping against the seat of the mercenary's britches echoed loudly in the room. Hoping that the element of surprise would allow him to quickly gain the upper hand, Vasher followed the first smack with more, spreading them out evenly over Denth's bottom. By the time he'd covered every inch, down to the mercenary's thighs, his palm was stinging and dark spots were flashing in front of his eyes. He was really feeling the weakness from the torture and the battle with the other man.

As if he was only just starting to realise the position he was in, Denth began to struggle. “Let me go,” he ground out. “Fight me. I'm not a child.”

“You weren't a child when I first started doing this.”

Denth's struggles stilled for a second, but Vasher didn't believe the mercenary had given up. His body shook with the strain of keeping a man of about the same size over his leg when he didn't have any Breath left.

But this wasn't the first time he'd faced that loss. It wasn't the first time he'd had to put so much strain on his own body when he had virtually no resources left. So even though it was hard, he continued to bring his hand down in sharp smacks that stung his palm.

After two such circuits, Denth resumed his struggles. “You're only dragging out the inevitable. What's your plan? As soon as you let me go, you'll have lost control. You can't keep watch over me all the time. And sooner or later, you'll kill me.” Bitterness slipped into his voice as he continued, “Just like Arsteel. Just like my sister. You're a murderer.”

“Yes.” Vasher didn't even try to deny it. But it was telling that Denth's struggles were only half-hearted. They'd both thought these days were long behind them. Vasher had been in love with Shashara, but how he felt about Denth? That had been so much harder to understand. At least for him. “You're not the only one with darkness in his heart.”

He hadn't stopped or even slowed the smacks as he spoke and Denth's voice was strained. “I'm not the man you knew.”

“And I'm not the man you knew,” Vasher countered.

“You killed Arsteel.”

Vasher tried not to think about that day, but it came into his mind's eye anyway. The two of them, facing against each other. He could remember it so clearly; how Arsteel had tried to stop him from what he needded to do. Arsteel had been a better man than him and a regrettable casualty in this war, but it had been a choice between stopping his opponent for good and sacrificing the people of two kingdoms. “He didn't leave me any other choice.”

Denth laughed, but it was a harsh, bitter sound. “And I gave you one? He's a Lifeless now. There's nothing left of him. You did that.” He twisted his hand round; dug his nails into Vasher's wrist, drawing blood and making him wince. “I'm not going to forgive you for either of them,” he said viciously.

Vasher winced and watched blood trickle down his skin, landing on the floor. “I'm not looking for forgiveness.” A lie. He knew it, but what else could he do? Denth wouldn't forgive him for taking away his sister and his close friend, even if Shashara had left him with no choice. His stomach clenched and his heart ached in a way he'd never felt before. “But I'm going to turn you back. You can't do it yourself? You can't return to the man you once were by yourself? Then it's someone else who needs to set you right.”

“You have no right.”

Vasher wasn't the best at reading people. He never had been, even when he'd first Returned. He might have been different in his first life, but he doubted it. Even so, he could tell Denth didn't really mean what he was saying. Vasher still had hold of the mercenary's arm and he used his spanking hand to tug Denth's britches down to bare the other man's bottom.

A low growl escaped Denth and he began to struggle even more, like a wild animal caught in a trap. He stilled when Vasher's palm landed for the first time on his bare bottom, generating a loud, crisp sound. The swats that landed afterwards had Denth hissing and writhing around in place. If his free hand wasn't braced on the floor to keep his balance, Vasher had no doubt he would be throwing it back to protect himself.

It didn't take long for Denth's bottom and thighs to turn a dusky pink under Vasher's hand and for his struggles to become jerks and kicks, making it clear the sting was getting to him. Vasher could feel the heat every time his palm landed.

As the smacks grew harder and faster, a quiet sob escaped Denth. Vasher paused and let his hand rest on the mercenary's backside, rubbing it gently as he felt the heat rising from the punished skin. “I know you don't want to forget, but I disagree that you're beyond hope. Beyond redemption.”

Denth's laugh this time sounded more like a sob. “How can you say that? You never gave my sister that chance. You never gave Arsteel that chance.”

Vasher didn't look at the sword, but he couldn't help thinking of Nightblood. “She wouldn't have stopped at the creation of just one sword. You've seen its power for yourself. How many people would die if more swords like Nightblood existed?”

“And Arsteel?”

“Was a mistake.” The admittance came in a hoarse whisper. “And if I could take it back, I would.” He let his hand rest on Denth's lower back. “I'm not going to repeat it.”

Denth slumped and the tears came like a storm. Vasher let his body drop, catching his weight on his knee, so he could support the mercenary's weight. He wasn't good at being comforting or gentle, but his hand was soft as he rested it on the back of Denth's head. He rubbed down the other man's back and then, as the tears began to die down, he pulled his britches back into place and let go of his arm.

Slowly standing, Denth rubbed at his eyes and then gingerly rubbed at his bottom. His tear-stained face made him look decades younger. “She's in there. Your princess.” He nodded towards the closet. “I didn't hurt her. Just gagged her.”

Vasher nodded and walked over, opening the closet. He quickly leaned in and untied and ungagged Vivenna before helping her out of the closet. From the wide-eyed look on her face as she glanced between them, it was obvious that she'd overheard everything. He was relieved to see that her hair was slowly lightening from white to brown. Maybe he could make this work.

The building began to shake beneath them, as if in the throes of an earthquake. Denth swiped at his eyes and then gave Vivenna a hesitant smile. “No tricks now. But I think I might be the one with the most amount of Breath now. We need to get out of the tower.”

Vasher quickly scooped up the sheath as Nightblood began to chatter at him. Did you see what I did? I got back to Vivenna and guided her to you....

Ignoring the sword, Vasher turned towards his two companions. “Something's happening,” he said, unnecessarily. “We need to get out of here and see if the God King and your sister need help.” He looked at Vivenna and then at Denth. “If you're ready....”

Denth made a courtly bow, but the smile he sent to Vasher was more grateful and less mocking. “Let's finish what we started, Princess, and save your sister.”

The End