Kitty_trio's Request: Comanche Moon
Aug. 19th, 2008 01:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaye_voyRequest From: kitty_trio
Prompts: Comanche Moon's Woodrow Call (Karl Urban) and Blue Duck (Adam Beach). Also involved is Gus McCrae (Steve Zahn).
Disclaimer: Comanche Moon characters belong to Larry McMurtry et al.
Feedback: Always welcome, positive or negative.
Archiving: Not without permission.
Note: Set after an early scene in “Comanche Moon”, where Blue Duck takes a shot at Call while Call is getting ready to “paint the rocks”. In “Dead Man’s Walk”, the prequel to “Comanche Moon”, Woodrow Call earned the name "Gun in the Water" when he rose from a river to repel an attack, killing Blue Duck's half-brother. Call also beat up his commander and was sentenced to 100 lashes. No other man had ever survived the punishment.
***
The burn of the bullet crease in Blue Duck’s side hurt less than his pride. Gun in the Water had been his! His to shoot, to kill...to claim the Ranger’s scalp as a trophy.
But that was not to be. Even cold and distracted, Call had seen Blue Duck’s approach. Shouted for aid even as he swung the Winchester off his shoulder and fired, almost sending Blue Duck to the place of spirits and bones.
And yet, Blue Duck smiled, even as he heated his blade in the fire to press against his wound. He would take any chance to bring an end to Gun in the Water’s days, but what he truly wanted wasn’t Call’s death. Not so easy, so quick.
For it was said that Call was a man who could not be broken. That his back was scarred with stripes carved by his own people, 10 times the full measure of a man’s hands. No other had known such and lived.
Blue Duck dreamed of having Gun in the Water in his power. He’d strip the man, bare skin moon-pale to the touch of his hand, his knife, a branch from the fire. Paint his own mark upon the Ranger in blood, sink into its sharp tang mixed with the smell of sweat and screams of pain that would last until his need was spent.
Until he spent himself within his captive, and after...fist buried in the short dark hair he’d arch the long throat back for the final stroke of his blade.
And then maybe those eyes that haunted him would finally show fear.
***
“I swear, Woodrow, it’s got so’s a man can’t take a piss without some red devil tryin’ to send him to his grave.” Gus hopped and fluttered around Call like a hen whose chick skipped just clear of the fox’s jaws, still hearin’ the snap shut.
Call just let him fuss ’n fidget, Gus's eyes narrowed like they were tryin’ to see past coat and vest and shirts to be sure Blue Duck hadn’t done harm. Closed his own eyes, felt the press of Gus’s hand at his hip, near the edge of the scars that were faded but not forgotten, the memory ten years gone.
Back then the press was a touch---woman-gentle as Gus’d salved and wrapped and tutted while makin’ sure Call didn’t meet his Maker a day before he was due.
Those were the days Call knew he’d never marry. ’Cause Woodrow Call was not one who’d ever lied, not to God nor man and he couldn’t stand up before the preacher and say he’d cleave heart to heart to any woman who’d ever walked God’s Earth.
When the hand dropped he opened his eyes to see Gus lookin’ down and away, knew he’d hear talk of Clara before moonrise. As if he needed remindin’.
There were things a man just couldn’t have, no two ways about it.
But that didn’t stop the wantin’.
END
Prompts: Comanche Moon's Woodrow Call (Karl Urban) and Blue Duck (Adam Beach). Also involved is Gus McCrae (Steve Zahn).
Disclaimer: Comanche Moon characters belong to Larry McMurtry et al.
Feedback: Always welcome, positive or negative.
Archiving: Not without permission.
Note: Set after an early scene in “Comanche Moon”, where Blue Duck takes a shot at Call while Call is getting ready to “paint the rocks”. In “Dead Man’s Walk”, the prequel to “Comanche Moon”, Woodrow Call earned the name "Gun in the Water" when he rose from a river to repel an attack, killing Blue Duck's half-brother. Call also beat up his commander and was sentenced to 100 lashes. No other man had ever survived the punishment.
***
The burn of the bullet crease in Blue Duck’s side hurt less than his pride. Gun in the Water had been his! His to shoot, to kill...to claim the Ranger’s scalp as a trophy.
But that was not to be. Even cold and distracted, Call had seen Blue Duck’s approach. Shouted for aid even as he swung the Winchester off his shoulder and fired, almost sending Blue Duck to the place of spirits and bones.
And yet, Blue Duck smiled, even as he heated his blade in the fire to press against his wound. He would take any chance to bring an end to Gun in the Water’s days, but what he truly wanted wasn’t Call’s death. Not so easy, so quick.
For it was said that Call was a man who could not be broken. That his back was scarred with stripes carved by his own people, 10 times the full measure of a man’s hands. No other had known such and lived.
Blue Duck dreamed of having Gun in the Water in his power. He’d strip the man, bare skin moon-pale to the touch of his hand, his knife, a branch from the fire. Paint his own mark upon the Ranger in blood, sink into its sharp tang mixed with the smell of sweat and screams of pain that would last until his need was spent.
Until he spent himself within his captive, and after...fist buried in the short dark hair he’d arch the long throat back for the final stroke of his blade.
And then maybe those eyes that haunted him would finally show fear.
***
“I swear, Woodrow, it’s got so’s a man can’t take a piss without some red devil tryin’ to send him to his grave.” Gus hopped and fluttered around Call like a hen whose chick skipped just clear of the fox’s jaws, still hearin’ the snap shut.
Call just let him fuss ’n fidget, Gus's eyes narrowed like they were tryin’ to see past coat and vest and shirts to be sure Blue Duck hadn’t done harm. Closed his own eyes, felt the press of Gus’s hand at his hip, near the edge of the scars that were faded but not forgotten, the memory ten years gone.
Back then the press was a touch---woman-gentle as Gus’d salved and wrapped and tutted while makin’ sure Call didn’t meet his Maker a day before he was due.
Those were the days Call knew he’d never marry. ’Cause Woodrow Call was not one who’d ever lied, not to God nor man and he couldn’t stand up before the preacher and say he’d cleave heart to heart to any woman who’d ever walked God’s Earth.
When the hand dropped he opened his eyes to see Gus lookin’ down and away, knew he’d hear talk of Clara before moonrise. As if he needed remindin’.
There were things a man just couldn’t have, no two ways about it.
But that didn’t stop the wantin’.
END