Title: Bindings
Pairing: Axel/Roxas

Warnings: historical inaccuracies, Vikings, blood, violence, Roxas' fist, sexual situations
Rating: R

Word count: about 5k :)
A/N: I've been waffling with this sequel since the first story was finished, but I finally got my butt in gear and finished it. This one is for Tenyle/justsaynotopants. Also, if you haven't read Barriers this won't really make much sense so read that first, then come back to this one.

Disclaimer: I don't claim anything regarding history here is the absolute truth. I also don't own these boys, or else the canon would be rather different.

Summary: Roxas and Axel look to the future and the possibility of freedom.

In his dreams, Roxas is back home; he is far away, guiding his family's goats across the rolling hills of his homeland. Everything is bright – the skies are the purest blue, decorated majestically with fluffy white clouds, and the grass beneath his feet is soft and very green. He can even feel the blades between his bare toes. Despite this beauty there is a chill in the air, one that marks the coming darkness. Then the sky turns bleak and red, and the sounds of screams rip through the air; and Roxas stands frozen, alone in the hills as he watches the slaughter taking place below. Roxas watches with horror as one of the faceless barbarians knock his mother, his brave and fierce mother, down and picks her up, carrying her towards one of their ships. None of the barbarians have faces, but they all wield bloody axes and spears and wear their evil intent on leathery shoulders. They kill his father right in front of him, and Roxas collapses at the sight of his father's lifeless body crumbling; when he looks up, Roxas is terrified.

This barbarian has a face.

He has a face, and Roxas knows it; he knows it intimately, knows what the barbarian's lips feel like against his own, knows how the corners of his eyes crinkle when the barbarian smiles.

The barbarian grins, the black tattoos on his face bunching up, and it's not a smile that Roxas likes. He grabs Roxas' clothing and drags him to one of their dragon-headed ships, binding his hands and tossing him below deck to wait, and all Roxas can see is blood dripping from the rough-hewn blade of an axe in his mind's eye.

Roxas surged forward, jarred from his fretful, nightmare-filled sleep by the image of congealed blood dripping to the floor. He gasped, desperately drawing in oxygen to fill his lungs as his wide eyes cast about the darkened hold to reassure himself of his surroundings: a worn rope hammock, the gently-sloped wooden hull of the ship they'd boarded three days ago, Xion sleeping deeply in the hammock next to his. He looked down at his hands and ankles and found them unbound, saw no traces of ropes, and he was satisfied that he was in another time and place than in his dream.

The season of raiding had begun. The ice had melted, leaving the water clear and open and Xemnas had decided that it was time for them to be moving again.

Their settlement had been attacked, Roxas remembered. It had been late at night when Roxas woke with a start; Xion had risen on the pallet nearby. Together they listened to the rising shouts and angry exclamations coming from outside. Xemnas was already gone, and Roxas' eyes widened when he heard a familiar battle cry ring through the night. Instantly Roxas was out the door, running directly into the mêlée.

Whoever had the attack had made a terrible mistake in attacking them; Xemnas' warriors did not believe in mercy, and dealt with them brutally, dispatching each and every one quickly. After interrogating one barely breathing survivor, Xemnas announced they would retaliate – after doing some raiding of their own to gather supplies and fear from their prey.

Just as Roxas caught his breath a wave crashed against the side of the ship, sending a wave of nausea through the blond. The rocking of the ocean seemed to be the problem; ever since he'd been kept in the hold of a slaving ship for weeks on end the effect of rolling waves sickened him.

Careful not to disturb Xion, who was still sleeping peacefully, Roxas slipped from his bunk and climbed up the ropes to the deck of the ship, emerging into cool night air. It smelled like shit and unwashed skin below deck, but once he was up on the main deck Roxas a deep breath as the fresh salt air soothed over his skin and filled his lungs; it was dark still, and Xemnas had anchored them off the coast of an unnamed island – or at least, the name was not one he could pronounce, even with Axel's coaching – with the promise of raiding a series of small towns for iron and livestock the next day. The ship rocked beneath his bare feet as he walked towards the bow, wood creaking and moaning as the waves hit the ship's hull; Roxas nodded to Luxord, who was keeping a wary eye on the open sea, and the older blond paid no attention to him. He sat out on the bow of the ship, breathing in the fresh air and allowing his thoughts to drift away again. The sounds of the sea were much louder here, but the fresh air worked wonders for the nausea building in the pit of his stomach. It would be his first chance to prove himself worthy of a place among Xemnas' warriors, rather than as his slave. The dream of freedom was almost tangible, almost possible – but he had to prove himself first. The trick would be to survive.

That was the most daunting thing. The idea of going into a village, of killing and looting to prove himself worthy made bile rise in his throat. It wasn't so long ago that Roxas' own little village had been plundered, his father and family butchered so the youngest could be taken as slaves. Could he force the same fate on others? And if he did, would he be able to live with himself afterwards? The price of freedom and respect, on those terms, seemed almost too much to bear.

But more than anything Roxas wanted to be free; he wanted to buy his freedom from Xemnas and make his own way, preferably alongside Axel. Despite their many differences and the obstacles between them, Roxas had ground rather fond of the red-haired warrior over the last few months. It was Axel who had convinced Xemnas to consider him for a rank, regaling their leader with stories of Roxas' hunting prowess and skills until his white-haired master agreed to let Roxas join the raiding party. Axel had advocated for him among the other warriors, and when Xemnas was dead asleep from too much beer it was Axel's bed Roxas crawled into, as opposed to his own. Axel was warmth, and he ignited such a fire in Roxas' chest and stomach that he scarcely felt the cold or loneliness anymore.

Roxas wanted to be free, because then he was free to stay with Axel if he so desired. Until that point however, if Xemnas found out Axel was fucking his slave they would probably both lose their intestines.

That was a thoroughly unpleasant thought.

"Roxas?"

The blond had been so focused on the swirling thoughts in his head that he hadn't even heard his lover's approach on deck. Roxas looked over his shoulder and gave him a wry smile, taking in the sleep-mussed tangle of red hair, tired green eyes, the enormous white pelt of a massive bear wrapped around his thin, angular body, and the wrought gold circlet around his neck, barely visible amongst plush white fur.

"Alright?" Axel asked brusquely in Roxas' own language, red eyebrow arched in worry and curiosity.

Roxas nodded jerkily and wavered slightly as the ship rocked once more. Axel closed the distance between them, placing his hands on Roxas' shoulders bracingly, as if waiting to catch him should he lose his balance.

"You are cold," Axel muttered, wrapping the thick white pelt around Roxas, enveloping him in warm skin and fur. He settled his chin on top of Roxas' head and pulled the smaller body close to his. "Couldn't sleep?"

Roxas shook his head. "Dreams," he responded, leaving out that Axel had played a starring role in them.

"You'll do well tomorrow," Axel assured him. "You will be free soon enough."

Roxas didn't know how to express how he felt about that. The words in Axel's language were not coming to mind, and instead left everything simply blank. It frustrated him to no end that even now they could not communicate these sorts of feelings to one another, despite all the improvements they'd made over the course of several months. Deeper feelings were always more difficult for Roxas to express, and something so complicated risked being misunderstood if he picked the wrong words. So instead Roxas accepted the warmth Axel offered, allowed him to hold Roxas tightly for a while as they listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the nearby shore, and told star stories to each other until Roxas yawned widely mid-sentence. After that, Axel lead him back below deck and put him back to bed in his own bunk until Xemnas woke them all up again.

The next day was a blur to Roxas; he'd been rudely awoken by Xemnas demanding his presence on deck to prepare the ship for landing on the coast, and while he was grateful for the distraction from his morose thoughts it was still heavy work, and Roxas hoped he could still make a good impression on his master later during the raid – no matter what happened.

The only thing Roxas remembered clearly was that Axel had been absent from the deck, and when Xemnas grew impatient he had Roxas go retrieve the elusive redhead. Roxas remembered hearing Xigbar, Xemnas' second in command, snickering about Axel's vanity before he went below deck. He found Axel seated on his bunk, stripped bare to his waist; in the dim light of the hold Roxas could see intricate swirls of blue crawling all over his skin, over his hips and abdomen, chest and arms – and he was painting his face in the same way, stripes of blue branching out from his hairline and curving sharply to follow the tattoos on his face. He was profoundly focused, and drawing the designs with careful fingers all over his torso and arms. When he looked up, Roxas found himself unable to speak for several moments; he felt as though Axel had pinned him with his own knives to the ship's hull and there was no way to break free. Roxas swallowed, taking in the fearsome-looking creature his lover had become in war paint.

"It's tradition," Axel said gruffly by way of explanation; Roxas swallowed and nodded. The redhead rose, and Roxas felt himself pinned again. The designs were beautiful and yet terrifying; they made Axel seem otherworldly, like something godly out of the barbarians' Valhalla. He looked to be more legendary beast than man, or an ancient who dwelt in mists and lured unsuspecting men to their deaths. For a long moment Roxas contemplated the idea of Axel fucking him somewhere a little more comfortable than a ship and just looking up to admire the intricacies of the designs and the skin beneath it as they moved together.

Suddenly Axel was right in front of him, towering over Roxas like he always did – but the paint adorning his skin sent a shock of fear through him that tied his tongue and made his throat feel bone dry. Axel's hands on his shoulders steadied him, made him look up into fierce-looking eyes surrounded by dark blue paint.

"Are you ready?" Axel asked after a moment of searching for the words.

Roxas swallowed thickly and nodded, harnessing his focus away from erotic distractions and more towards the coming fight. "Yes. I'm ready."

Axel seemed to read his mind and smirked as he passed, gripping Roxas' shoulders. "Later, when we've camped for the night," he promised.

Roxas followed him up to the deck to face his first raid, wearing two blue handprints on his shoulders, the same color of Axel's intricate designs.

oOo

The village they raided had been home to about seventy people.

Of those seventy, Roxas killed six.

The raid had not taken very long, but through Roxas' eyes it had been an eternity. Blood drenched his skin and his vision, until everything seemed another shade of red.

Lexaeus, the biggest and most intimidating of them all, had killed the most with his hammer and proceeded to lead in the pillaging of the town. Tools, iron, and gemstones were removed from houses while men who'd guarded them still bled in the doorways. Even long after the raid was over, Roxas could still hear the screams.

He was still in shock at his own horrendous actions when Axel found him later; after the raid the party camped in a clearing out in the woods and Roxas, covered in blood, sought out a stream to wash off in. The blood clung to his skin and refused to be washed away, but Roxas continued scrubbing with his fingernails until he decided that was not working. When he caught the sound of Axel's footsteps over moss and tree branches, Roxas was scraping dried blood off his skin with the blunt side of his knife. He didn't acknowledge the other man's arrival until Axel was crouching beside him, balanced on the balls of his feet.

"You fought bravely today," Axel said quietly in the hodge-podge language they'd grown accustomed to speaking in. "Xemnas took notice."

"I did not feel brave," Roxas responded harshly. "I thought sometimes I was going to die."

Long fingers wrapped around Roxas' bicep and tugged upwards, with Axel guiding Roxas to his feet. "I was close by," the taller man said quietly. "You would not have died."

Roxas understood without Axel needing to elaborate: he would have killed anyone who was truly a threat to Roxas' safety. He looked up and found himself mesmerized again; the light blue paint that covered Axel's face and body remained intact, though with the addition of blood spatters all over his skin.

Axel pulled Roxas' tunic off and dipped it in the stream before turning back to Roxas, wiping the wet cloth over the blond's face and arms to wipe the dried blood away.

"Is it always like this?" Roxas asked morosely.

Axel shrugged in response. "Sometimes it is worse," he muttered, "there are more people, or better fighters. Sometimes we get hurt."

Roxas suddenly remembered tracing the lines of scars across Axel's bare skin on multiple occasions, but he never asked what they were from. Now he was pretty sure he understood.

"You were very lucky today," Axel went on, washing the blood from Roxas' neck now. "But that is the trick – to be quick and lucky. Can you keep that up, my little hawk?"

Axel had started calling him that not too long ago, and when Roxas discovered the translation for the word in his own tongue he realized Axel was playing on his keen eyesight. Axel added that it was for his fierce looks when he got angry as well. Roxas found the name rather endearing, and decided to keep it.

When Roxas' skin had been washed clean of blood Axel swooped in and pressed his lips against Roxas' as he pushed him back against a tree, pressing his body against the blond's firmly and letting Roxas feel the hardness behind leather. Even though he'd been almost expecting it, the intensity of the kiss made Roxas gasp; residual battle lust always made his already enthusiastic lover more insatiable and a little bit rougher, leaving Roxas with bruises on his hips and sensitive teeth marks on his neck and collarbone that Xion would raise her eyebrows at. Battle lust was still singing in Axel's blood it seemed, as he bit Roxas' lip sharply and twisted the blond around, pressing his chest against bark while Axel ground himself against his ass. Axel whispered something in his ear that Roxas didn't quite catch, but he had a feeling it was something intensely sexual and possessive, if only based on his current actions.

They didn't last long that way – Roxas wasn't keen on splinters – and Axel took him roughly by the stream, releasing all the tension from the fight into him. The soft, cool grass was much easier on Roxas' skin, though most of his focus was on the man bridged over him and the harsh snap of his lover's hips that buried his cock deep in Roxas' body. Roxas responded to his intensity in turn, and left Axel with raw, bleeding scratches across his back during their near-ferocious coupling. When Axel finally collapsed over him, panting and still jerking his hips weakly, Roxas absently counted the bite marks in his collar bone and neck that Axel had made in his frenzy of thrusts.

Axel laid kisses on the marks absently, his tongue laving over them gently as he rolled his hips, his softening cock still inside the blond. Every small change in his movements sent shivers down Roxas' spine, his body oversensitive after so much stimulation and orgasm. Roxas muttered Axel's name, gently prodding him to pull out before he became too uncomfortable.

Axel groaned in response, nuzzling against Roxas' neck. Then he muttered something Roxas roughly translated to "I want you again."

"Again?" Roxas confirmed, laughing a little bit because he could barely feel his lower body as it was after that.

"We might not get to do this tomorrow," Axel reminded him, laying a kiss on the column of his neck.

"Xemnas will be looking for me soon," Roxas countered, biting his lip in anxiety.

"Let him wait," Axel growled, pulling his softened cock from Roxas' body and wrapping his arms around the blond's smaller form and kissing him soundly, pulling Roxas' thoughts away from those of his thoroughly unpleasant master.

They had sex once more before returning to the newly-set up camp, with Roxas limping slightly and covering up the marks Axel had made on his skin, secretly claiming him as his own.

Roxas' anxiety spiked within minutes of their return; Xemnas was waiting for Roxas. The second Roxas made his appearance back at camp, Xemnas summoned him with a booming voice; momentarily stunned, it wasn't until Axel gave him a slight shove in the other man's direction that he moved at all.

"You did well today, Roxas," Xemnas acknowledged first. His speech was a little slower than Axel's, so Roxas found himself more able to pick out syllables and piece together what he was actually saying to him. "You have the makings of an impressive warrior when you reach adulthood."

Roxas held back a scowl; among his own people, he'd reached adulthood during the early spring. He didn't like being referred to as a child. "Thank you," he said grudgingly, a few moments later.

"You have proven yourself to be someone I should perhaps pay more attention to. You do wish to join the rest and call me 'lord,' correct?"

Again Roxas had to hold back a scowl. He in no way wanted to refer to Xemnas with such respect, but the promise of freedom was within reach now. So he nodded.

"There is another settlement not too far from this one," the other man intoned imperiously. "I want you to lead the attack. Coordinate with whomever you want, and lead the others. I will be watching. If you want to be one of my warriors, you must show me what you are willing to do to please me."

Roxas' mouth went dry at his words. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully, his heart sinking.

"Bring me their leader's head," Xemnas replied with a cool smile. "And his wife."

oOo

"You're not actually going to go through with this, are you?" Xion demanded when Roxas told her what Xemnas had said. "That isn't like you at all, Roxas," she hissed, her blue eyes flashing in the firelight.

"You don't know what is like me and what isn't," Roxas snapped, rubbing his temples agitatedly. His head was pounding and his stomach was twisting in uncomfortable knots whenever he thought about what Xemnas had demanded of him.

"I beg to differ," she hissed, forcing herself into Roxas' field of vision. "I know you want to be free, Roxas, but are you really willing to give up what humanity you have so you can fuck your precious lover without Xemnas cutting you both open? Don't give me that look, I know he's the main reason you're even considering doing something so vile."

"I have to do this!"

"No, you don't," she insisted. "You may be a slave like me, but you're not powerless, Roxas. You've learned how to sail. You could steal a ship and run away from here. You could be free, and you wouldn't need to kill anyone."

Roxas glared at her, his brow furrowed as he mentally rejected everything she said, one word at a time, as stupidity.

"But you won't do that," Xion continued, her tone changing to one of mocking. "You wouldn't leave without Axel. Not unless it meant he could go with you. But he's tied to Xemnas even more than you."

"Then what would you have me do?" Roxas snarled, feeling helpless at his total lack of options.

"You're not a killer," Xion said quietly, calmly. "You were a hunter before, but you are not a hunter of people. If you do what he wants, you won't be the Roxas I know anymore. You'll just be another one of them – another barbarian who enjoys killing and maiming innocent people, and I know that's not who you are. You are better than that."

Roxas processed that for several moments, closing his eyes and trying to sort his thoughts. Killing those he had earlier had been a sickening, terrifying experience, and he was in no rush to repeat the experience. And yet, Xemnas had finally presented him with the chance to obtain his freedom – the price was his sanity and the deaths of whoever he encountered in the next village. More than anything Roxas wanted to be free; he wanted to be his own man again, to remove himself from Xemnas' servitude and be able to be with Axel more freely.

As long as he was enslaved, that dream was out of reach.

And yet, Xion was right: he wasn't a killer, and he didn't enjoy it.

"You can think about this later," Xion prodded him, breaking his concentration. "Xemnas is expecting us to pour mead."

It was almost inevitable; within a few hours Xemnas had drunk enough mean to fill the bellies of four and he would be dead to the world until late morning for sure. Without him to worry about, Roxas snuck out of the shelter they were sharing and sought out Axel's bundle of blankets. Axel quickly welcomed him under the blanket of thick white fur, pressing his forehead against Roxas'.

When Roxas didn't respond to his kisses, the redhead pulled away and gave him a quizzical look. "What is it?"

Sighing, Roxas relaxed in Axel's arms and shifted on the hard ground beneath them. Then he told him, in halting words as he searched for the right ones to use, what Xemnas had asked him to do in order to obtain his freedom.

After he was finished, Roxas looked up and found Axel staring at him with an eyebrow raised. "What is the problem?"

Roxas blanched. Of course, Axel was clearly a proficient killer who did not seem to have any qualms about his profession. Axel had probably been in his first battle before Roxas was born, and probably hadn't questioned Xemnas' demands for violence when he became the older man's vassal. He'd seen the other man in the heat of battle, his lightweight battle axes swinging through the air and slicing through flesh like water. Roxas didn't think he'd ever be so at ease with killing another human being like that.

"I do not . . . want to kill," Roxas muttered, mindful of the other sleeping warriors around them. "It's not what I want."

"But you want Xemnas to set you free."

Roxas nodded. "I want that, but not that way." In that moment, Roxas made a decision; it was the only option he could see working. Now it was just convincing Axel to go along with him. "Listen . . . would you . . . ever consider leaving?" he asked tentatively, bracing for the horrified reaction he could see building on Axel's face.

"Xemnas is my lord," Axel said flatly. There was no room for argument in his voice.

"And what am I?" Roxas retorted, challenging him.

Unfortunately, Axel didn't seem to have an answer for him. His lover's green eyes were like hardened stones, watching him carefully and critically.

"I want to be with you, but I don't want to kill to have you," Roxas clarified, trying to nudge Axel ever so slightly.

After several moments, the frown on Axel's face deepened. "I don't know what you want me to do, Roxas."

"If I left . . . would you come with me?"

Axel's eyes widened almost comically when he finally grasped the full meaning of Roxas' words. "You . . . are serious."

"Would you?" Roxas asked again, a little more insistently.

Axel looked away for the first time, his expression closed off so Roxas couldn't read his emotions. "You can't ask me that," he whispered gruffly. "If you want to be free so badly, just go. It will be easier."

"I want to go with you," Roxas emphasized, gripping Axel's arm tightly to further his point.

"I don't know," Axel hedged, his expression hardening. "Look, you should sleep. No matter what happens tomorrow."

Roxas was struck by the outright dismissal in Axel's voice, and crawled out from beneath his blankets, dejected and morose and leaving the warmth of Axel's body behind. It was the worst feeling he'd ever experienced in his short, rather miserable life.

The plan was simple enough, and in the end Xion was right: Roxas had all the tools, he just needed to take advantage of them at the opportune moment to take what was naturally his. When the first rays of sunlight were peeking over the water, Roxas roused Xion and gathered their things, ignoring the bellowing snores of Xemnas not too far away. They had sleeping packs, food, mead, blankets, and a small bag filled with items they could trade with. With absolute caution they crept through the small camp, dodging snoring warriors and sharp rocks as they made their way down to the banks where the raiding ship had been run aground.

"Are you sure we can do this?" Xion asked uncertainly, staring up at the impressive ship dubiously.

"We have to try," Roxas responded, leading her over to the ramp they'd descended from when they first landed.

A short while later, Roxas decided that it was a lot harder than it looked to get a ship moving. It simply wasn't a two-person job. If he didn't get the ship out to see soon, Xemnas and the others would wake up and find him and Xion attempting to make their escape. There was no doubt in his mind that Xemnas would see that as betrayal and would find a particularly gruesome way for him to die as punishment. All while Axel watched.

"We have to keep trying," Roxas hissed, regaining his determination after it faltered slightly. He leapt off the deck and landed in the sand, holding a rope to bring him back up later, and began to push violently at the bow of the ship, trying to force it into the water further. He pushed and kept pushing, his feet sliding in the sand as the ship seemed to push back against him. The hull of the ship threatened to leave his hands filled with splinters, and sweat pooled on his forehead as desperation set in. They were losing valuable time, and fast.

"I think it will be easier with three," a vaguely amused, definitely tired and familiar voice startled Roxas from his intense focus. Roxas whipped around, his eyes wild with surprise at the sight of a lanky redhead carrying a pack of his own and looking thoroughly sleepy.

Before Roxas could ask what Axel was doing there, Axel was beside him, pushing against the hull with all his wiry might; within minutes the ship shifted, slowly slipping back into the chilled water with their combined strength. When they were safely back on board and the small ship was in deeper water, Roxas tackled Axel, a broad grin splitting his face.

"What changed your mind?" he asked, reveling in the feeling of Axel's arms wrapped around him tightly.

"Maybe I think you are a better choice than Xemnas," Axel teased in response, resolutely ignoring Xion's outraged shouts and demands for them to get to work, that the ship wouldn't sail itself.

It should be noted that within a few weeks of this particular great escape a dragon-headed ship made landfall on a riverbank near a trading fort, where the three sailors onboard this ship were readily welcomed. The young woman with them, a slight, black-haired beauty, married a trader at the fort while the two young men – one a tall, broad shouldered redhead with a piercing green gaze, the other a short blond with blue eyes – proved themselves inseparable and joined a crew sailing downriver. Together they became an intrepid duo of explorers, searching out new routes to connect with other rivers deeper into the continent and enjoying every moment of their shared freedom together.