vigorli

Title: Purity of Intention (18/?)
Author:

arieltachna
Type: RPS / FPS crossover
Pairing: Diego / Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and enjoyment only. With all due respect, we do not own these characters, either the actors or those created by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. We just think it’s a fascinating world.
Feedback: would be wonderful
Beta:

tularia
Summary: A cynical swordsman is hired to return a runaway – or so it appears
A/N: Thanks to

tularia for the beautiful banner
A/N2 – Wishing a happy birthday to

randomrattle – even though she may never forgive us for what we did to Ian!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adjusting her bodice so that it showed far more of her cleavage than she would ever leave visible in the public room of the tavern, Caridad climbed the stairs, letter in hand, to see her favorite tenant. She knew he had been injured recently, but she hoped he would soon be well enough – and insolvent enough – to return to her bed. She missed his strength, his virility. None of her other occasional lovers satisfied her nearly as well. Rapping lightly on the door, she called softly for him. "Diego!"

Alatriste looked up from tending the new blade Íñigo and the big Englishman, Bana, had obtained for him. Roux was overdue to return from his scouting of Lee's country estate, but the gypsy would not have needed to knock, and Diego was expecting no one else. Setting the rag he was using to oil the blade on the table, he rose and crossed to the door, sword in hand. Hearing Caridad's voice, he set the blade against the wall and opened the door to the tavern's proprietress.

Stepping inside when the door opened, Caridad glanced around, automatically looking for Diego's ward, not wanting the youth to interfere with her plans. Finding the room empty, she smiled, moving closer to Diego. "You have not come to see me recently," she purred, her hand running up his arm from wrist to shoulder. "If I didn't know better, I might think you had grown tired of me."

Before meeting Orlando, Diego would not have hesitated to return the innkeeper's bold overture. While no longer the beauty she was in her prime as one of the most sought-after courtesans in Madrid, Caridad la Lebrijana was still a desirable woman, and Diego had found it no hardship to share her bed. Now, everything was different, but he could not afford to antagonize his former lover while they were still living beneath her roof – nor did Caridad deserve such treatment. She had always been more than generous to him, whether with food and drink or with her body, and he would not rebuff her harshly now that he no longer needed her for either.

"The last few weeks have been ... difficult," he replied, removing her hand from his shoulder and bringing it to his lips with courtly charm.

Caridad turned her hand in his, sliding it over his slightly stubbled cheek. "All the more reason for you to avail yourself of the ease I can offer," she scolded gently, draping her arms over his shoulders as she moved closer still, brushing provocatively against him. "Surely I could have relieved some of your tension."

Orlando's eyes narrowed as he heard the innkeeper's words and watched the way she touched his lover familiarly. He wanted to cross the room and tear her from Diego's arms, but he remembered the swordsman's lectures on discretion and knew they applied to the woman as well as to anyone else other than Roux and Íñigo. He settled for clearing his throat loudly and striding into the room as if he had every right to be there. "Excuse me for interrupting," he said, an edge of sarcasm hardening his voice. A part of him wanted to put her in her place for daring to touch what was his, but he could hardly blame her for an attraction he felt as well, particularly when he knew from Íñigo that Diego had accepted, if not encouraged, her attentions in the past. "Perhaps I should go downstairs and give you some privacy."

His lips twitching beneath their heavy moustache, Diego tempered his response as he took a step back from the clinging tavernmistress. "That will not be necessary, Excellency," he countered, his gaze running appreciatively over the Englishman's bare chest before dropping to the envelope in Caridad's hand. "Is that a letter for Señor Bloom?" he asked pointedly.

"Is that His Excellency's name?" Caridad asked coolly, as if she had not pumped Íñigo for information every time she saw him these last few weeks. Her eyes raked over the admittedly attractive form, settling shrewdly on a bruise on the noble's collarbone. She looked up at Diego sharply, experienced enough to recognize a bite mark when she saw one, but his face was its usual, composed mask, revealing nothing. She was no ignorant miss, but Diego had been far too enthusiastic in her bed for him to be one of those men. The bruise surely had another origin. "In that case, I will leave this with you and get back to work."

"Gracias, hermosa," Diego said with a smile as he graciously ushered the proprietress out the door and into the hallway. Barring the door behind her, he turned to raise an eyebrow at his obviously jealous lover.

"Hermosa?" Orlando hissed when the door shut behind the woman, stalking toward Diego. "Strumpet is more like it, draping herself all over you like you belonged to her." He backed his lover against the door. "She can't have you. You're mine." He brought their mouths together in a bruising kiss, his jealousy pushing him to stake his claim as he had never dared do before, tongue invading Diego's mouth, ravishing it forcefully as his emotions slipped his control and ran rampant through him. "Mine," he ground out again before renewing the embrace.

Deciding it would not be wise to acknowledge to Orlando that both his statements concerning Caridad had at one time been true, Diego remained silent and gave himself willingly to his lover's assault, the demanding kisses firing his blood in return. Tongues and teeth met and clashed in a near-brutal conflict that Diego met with equal ferocity, pulling Orlando against him to drag their rampant erections together, proving his own hunger. "Si, yours," Diego rasped when they broke apart finally to draw breath into heaving chests, "solamente tuyo." Hopeful that Orlando had burned off enough of his jealousy to hear his words, he pressed his bruised lips gently over the livid bite on his lover's shoulder. "Only you share my bed any longer. Only you bear my mark, which you flaunt so boldly without regard for the risk to which you expose us both." Judging from Orlando's sudden gasp that the younger man had not realized the danger of his action, his voice gentled. "Only you are the one I love."

Diego's words acted like a splash of cold water on Orlando's passions. The reassurances that he wanted, needed, to hear paled in comparison to the danger he had not even considered when he had stepped out of the bedroom, so caught in his jealousy that he had forgotten the mark his lover had left on him the night before. "I'm sorry," he apologized, catching Diego's face with his hands and meeting the other man's eyes. "I didn't think... all I could think about was her trying to entice you and you not pulling away. I'll be more careful. I promise."

Shifting his legs to nestle Orlando even closer between them, Diego combed a hand through his lover's tousled hair. "Caridad has been very good to me," he admitted. "I owe her my gratitude and my respect." His fingers traced the smooth line of Orlando's jaw, lingering to hover just below his lips. "And while I do not believe she would consciously betray us, even if she realized we are lovers, she is not above gossip. A careless word to the wrong ears in the tavern could imperil us both."

"I know," Orlando replied, face falling. "I know better than to act without thinking, always, but especially here and in this situation. My father pounded that into my head from the time I was old enough to think. I guess it's a lesson I still need to learn. Maybe he's right about me after all."

Diego's hand tightened around the younger man's chin, forcing it up to meet his implacable gaze. "He is not right about you, querido. That I am here to love you is proof of that." He lowered his head to Orlando's lips, the kiss less fierce but no less impassioned, pouring all the love he could never find the words to express into his actions. "Come to bed, mi corazon."

It was a request Orlando would never deny. How could he when he so desperately needed the reassurance implicit in Diego's words? If his lover still wanted him, he could not be as worthless as he sometimes felt. Nodding his agreement, he let Diego waltz him into the bedroom, never releasing him from the tight embrace. Feeling his legs bump against the bed, he paused, wondering if he should reach for his breeches or Diego's or just wait for Diego to act.

It did not matter that Orlando had shared Diego's bed every night – and most of the days – since he had been saved from the Inquisition. Diego would always marvel that such an image of perfection – young, noble, flawlessly handsome – should choose to offer himself to a grizzled mercenary such as he, but he had stopped protesting against his fortune. He would treasure it, for as long as it was his to hold. Stripping the trousers from his lover's body, he eased the younger man back onto the rumpled bedding, etching the vision of long, honeyed limbs and tumbled chestnut curls into his memory as he quickly dispensed with his own garments. Kneeling on the bed, he ran a worshipful hand down the lithe curves of Orlando's chest. "Te amo," he murmured, bending to follow the same path with his lips.

Orlando stared up at the strong, handsome face of his lover, committing to memory every crease on the striking face, every line of the powerful body that moved over his. His breath caught in his throat as he imagined what the next minutes would bring. He and Diego had made love frequently since Diego's return on Friday night, but until now, his lover had been too weakened by the torture he had endured to support himself above Orlando as they made love. That weakness seemed a thing of the past as Diego crouched above him, cherishing him with hands and lips. Orlando's breath rushed out in a low moan as he imagined finally feeling his lover's weight bearing down on him, pressing him into the mattress, surrounding and protecting him. Then Diego's hips settled against his and he groaned, reality even better than his fevered imaginings. "I love you, too," he gasped, all other thought, all other words stripped from him by the inconceivable pleasure of his lover's body atop his.

Days of learning his lover's body had taught Diego where Orlando was most vulnerable to his touch, and he exploited that knowledge with calloused hands and moist kisses, with the rough scrape of his tongue, the soft brush of his hair, the gentle nip of his teeth, every caress an avowal of desire and adoration. Days of loving eased his acceptance into his lover's body, the slow glide into welcoming flesh as much a spiritual union as a physical one. Diego gradually let his full weight settle onto Orlando, let Orlando's smooth skin cradle him, let Orlando's strength support him. He moved in long, slow strokes, letting the passion build and spiral between them, never wanting this moment of communion to end.

The sensation of having Diego above him, in him, both surrounding and filling him, soothed the jagged edges of Orlando's self-doubt. Surely, such an amazing man would not love him unless he was worthy of it. He arched into the caresses, the kisses, the tickle of his lover's moustache, the hints of teeth, each one an additional balm to his heart. As Diego slid inside him again, Orlando let himself believe his lover's words, his jealousy fading to nothing in the face of such trenchant desire. No one could love this way and still harbour thoughts of another. Meeting the leisurely, maddening strokes, he tightened his internal muscles, wanting to add to Diego's pleasure. He knew it would speed their union, yet he could not hold back, desperate now for release, for that timeless moment when nothing existed but Diego and himself. Body tightening, rapture overtook him and he cried his lover's name.

No sound was sweeter to Diego's ears than his name called out in Orlando's impassioned voice, no victory more rewarding than seeing his lover's face transformed in bliss, feeling his body tighten and convulse around him. Stilling his motions as if he could stop time, he let Orlando's ecstasy wash over him, through him, until his own enflamed senses could withstand no more. Still trembling with the intensity of his climax, he rolled to his side, keeping Orlando wrapped in his embrace. "Never doubt yourself, mi corazon," he murmured hoarsely. "Never doubt my love for you."

Orlando immediately regretted the loss of Diego's weight above him, but the loving embrace continued and he moved with the older man, staying as close as they could possibly be. Looking up, he met Diego's grey eyes. "Keep reminding me," he requested softly.

"Always," Diego promised, beginning to believe it might be possible, that somehow they would find a way to remain together even after the threat of Lee's machinations was ended. That thought reminded him they had still not seen or heard from Roux, and that in turn drew his thoughts to the missive Caridad had come to deliver. "You never read your letter," he said, his hand tracing the curves of Orlando's back.

"It didn't seem important at the time," Orlando admitted, flushing a little as he remembered his outburst after the tavern mistress’s departure. "I suppose I should go get it and read it now." His reluctance to move was clear in his voice. He was curious about the letter, but not so much that he wanted to leave the comforting warmth of Diego's embrace.

"No one but your sire knows you are here, is it not true?" Diego asked, tweaking a handful of taut buttock to incite his lover to move. "Go, fetch it here and let us see what he has to say."

"As if I want to hear anything my father has to say," Orlando muttered, jerking away from the pinch, but he rose from the bed and retrieved the letter, uncaring of his nudity in the empty rooms. It wasn't as if he had anything to hide from Diego! Bringing the letter back to bed, he sank down into his lover's embrace again, back to chest so Diego could see over his shoulder, and opened the missive, frowning reflexively when he recognized his father's bold scrawl. He scanned the text automatically, expecting it to be the same empty platitudes and admonishments that such epistles usually contained. The letter started the same as always, urging Orlando to be careful, to stay out of sight and in the presence of someone who could protect him, but the second paragraph caught his eye.

"Look at this," he murmured softly. "Roux had better hurry. According to my father, they're moving the negotiations to Lee's estate this weekend and the King will be there to sign the treaty." He finished reading over the letter, crumpling it in his hand when his father ended by telling Orlando that soon he would no longer have any value as a bargaining tool and so could come out of hiding at last.

The reminder that Orlando would soon no longer have need of a protector no longer disturbed Diego as it would have once – the past days of recovery and lovemaking had done much to strengthen the belief that somehow he would retain a place in Orlando's life. More concerning to the swordsman was the intimation that events were quickly drawing to a confrontation. "It is no chance that the King will be there. The conde must be planning to strike." He pulled Orlando back against his chest, his hand stroking through his lover's long hair. "We cannot wait for Roux to return. I will have to find a way into Lee's apartments myself, and hope to find some proof of his treachery."

Orlando smoothed back out the parchment and read the pertinent words again. "The King won't arrive until this weekend according to my father," he observed. "It's only Wednesday. That gives us a couple of days before we have to act. You're much stronger than you were, but we can afford to give Roux another day to return before going after Lee. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"We still do not know exactly what Lee has planned," Diego protested. "We must hope to find something in his rooms to betray him – but even if we do not, to have any chance to forestall his plot we must ride for his estate by Friday."

"Which means we could still search tomorrow night," Orlando pointed out as reasonably as he could, fear for his lover's safety making him feel anything but rational. "We don't even know if Lee has left for his estate yet. If you try to search tonight, you could well find him still resident and yourself back in the hands of the Inquisition. I got you out once, but it won't work a second time." He turned in Diego's embrace, tightening his arms around the older man's torso. "I can't lose you."

Tilting Orlando's face upward to brush his lips, Diego shook his head. "Lee would surely want to see to arrangements for a royal visit personally," he countered. Seeing the stubbornness on his lover's face, he smiled wryly. "If it will ease your mind, perhaps your other watchdog can call upon the conde's quarters to confirm if he has left Madrid." His own expression resolved, Diego added, "But if he has gone, I will search his rooms tonight. We must have time to make plans if I find nothing."

Orlando nodded slowly, appreciating the fact that Diego would discuss the issue with him rather than simply overruling him. "I'll go talk to Eric in a few minutes then," he agreed. "And Roux could still well return before nightfall." He did not mention that one way or another, he intended to accompany Diego on his search. There would be time for that argument later. "But if Lee is still in town, promise me you'll wait until he leaves."

"I am not so rash as to press a frontal assault against one with the conde's influence," Diego agreed. "Not until we have no other choice."

"Or incontrovertible proof," Orlando added. "And then my father will have to accept that I'm more than just a helpless child to be protected."

It was more important for Orlando to accept that himself, Diego mused, than anything his father believed. "No helpless child could have rescued two convicted men from the Inquisition," he observed, pushing up from the bed. "Let us send Bana off to the conde's apartments, so we can make our plans." He only hoped Roux would return before they needed to leave Madrid.

~~~

The sun had just started its descent toward the horizon when a familiar knock sounded at the door. Orlando jumped to his feet and rushed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it wide. "You're back!" he exclaimed, seeing Roux standing on the threshold, looking as unflappable as ever. "We were getting worried."

Roux's smile was rakish as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. His gaze raked over Diego, searching for signs of renewed health. To his delight, everything he saw proclaimed his friend well on the road to recovery. "I am sorry," he replied with a bow of his head. "I was delayed."

"What did you learn?" Diego asked, no less relieved than Orlando if less demonstrative at his old friend's safe return.

"The conde arrived at his estate last night," Roux informed them. "With the recommendations and introductions that Javier provided, I was able to leave several of my friends in Lee's employ, so we won't be alone when we arrive. Now all we have to do is find enough proof to hang the man."

"Then his apartments should be empty but for servants," Diego approved, confirming what Bana’s visit had indicated. "A search may turn up something we can use against him."

"We will go as soon as it's dark," Roux agreed.

"I'm going with you this time," Orlando interrupted, marshalling his arguments for the inevitable discussion that would follow, but he refused to be left behind this time.

"Of course you are," Diego and Roux both spoke at the same time. His moustache twitching with suppressed laughter at Orlando's startled expression, Diego took his lover's hand. "Roux and I will both be able to search if you are standing guard for us," he explained.

Orlando's eyes darted back and forth between the two men's faces, searching for any sign of doubt or condescension in their expressions, but he found only confidence and determination. "You'd trust me that much?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Why wouldn't we?" Roux asked simply. "You've more than proven yourself this past week. And the more quickly we can search, the more quickly we can return here to safety."

"Join us for dinner," Diego suggested to the gypsy. "We can get a meal in the tavern – it will be good to get out of these apartments and see what news we can gather." His eyes met Orlando's as he spoke, trusting his lover would not hear his comment as a complaint of how they had spent their time while confined to his rooms.

"And then when we're done," Roux agreed with a nod of his head, "we should go by my rooms as well to check on Javier and Íñigo. If I know your ward, he'll be almost as worried as you were."

Orlando followed the two men down the stairs, letting the banter between them wash over him. His mind spun with amazement as he considered their words to him in the past few minutes. He had been prepared to argue his case, to convince them – Diego especially – that it would be far safer for him to accompany them than to stay at the apartment by himself, but Diego had not even questioned his presence on their search. The reasons they gave, no matter how logical, were unimportant. All that mattered to him was their unquestioning acceptance of him at their side. No one had ever treated him that way before, as an equal rather than as a burden. Diego knew of his insecurities, but he had not spoken of them to Roux, so the gypsy was certainly not humouring him by letting him come along. He didn't think Diego was either, honestly. His lover had proven far too protective of him in the past to have suddenly decided to indulge Orlando. His acceptance had to be genuine. And that brought a smile to his lips.

Entering the common room of the tavern, Diego looked around for Caridad as they took their seats at a back table that gave a clear view of the rest of the room. He lifted an eyebrow as he spotted her leaning over another table, in conversation with the big bodyguard, Bana, though he supposed he should not have been surprised – their proprietress had always had an eye for attractive men. That it drew her attention from trying to entice Diego back into her bed was good; that the Englishman gave every appearance of returning her interest, even better, easing the pang of jealousy Diego felt when he considered that Bana, or anyone else, had once been Orlando's lover.

Roux met Diego's gaze with a twinkle in his eye before turning to Orlando. "Now I understand why Diego was able to spirit you away so easily," he teased the young Inglés softly. "If your former protector wasn't any more diligent in Málaga , then bringing you here must have been child's play."

"I think he understands that I have a far better protector now than he could ever have been," Orlando replied with complete seriousness, fighting the temptation to reach for Diego's hand beneath the table, "and so he lets himself relax in a way he would not if he didn't know Diego was here." He took in the scene with an indulgent smile, relieved to see that the tavern mistress had apparently given up on pursuing the man at his side, at least for the moment. "She will entertain him far better than I could, that's for sure," he added, hoping Diego would understand that while he and Eric had become good friends, they had never been anything more.

"Well, he will need to delay his entertainment a little longer, so that we can be fed this evening," Diego answered with a twitch of his lip, rising to regain the innkeeper's attention long enough to request their meal.

~~~~~

The sound of a key turning in the lock thrilled Íñigo. He had worried and fretted for days over Roux's extended absence, with no one to share those concerns with. Javier did not know the gypsy, couldn't share his concern or his faith that somehow the older man would still return. And with the wounded man in his care, Íñigo could not seek out his guardian for reassurance either. He therefore jumped to his feet in his excitement at seeing not only Roux but the Capitán and Orlando as well. "You're back!" he exclaimed, hugging Roux impulsively before taking a step toward Alatriste. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of taking the same liberties he had as a child.

Diego stepped forward, clasping Íñigo's shoulder in the same soldier's embrace he had once shared with his father. As hard as it was for him to believe, his ward was no longer a child, but well on the way to becoming a man himself. God help me, I've done my best by him, Lope, he thought, though he suspected his old friend would find as much to be proud of in his son as Diego did. Stepping back, he offered his hand to Javier, waving him back when the older man tried to rise from his seat at the gypsy's curiously inlaid table. "You look better than the last time I saw you, my friend."

"Your ward has insisted I do nothing but eat and sleep," Javier avowed with a smile for the young man. "With such care as that, I could do nothing but get better."

"I tried to care for him as Roux showed me," Íñigo offered, both honoured and humbled that his guardian had greeted him as a man – as an equal – and vowing to never do anything to forfeit that respect. "You look much better as well, Capitán," he added, his eyes twinkling as he glanced over the swordsman's shoulder to meet the Englishman's amused gaze, though his voice remained steady.

"You weren't the only one with specific orders from Roux on how to care for a patient," Orlando replied with a smile. He didn't add that his orders had been a little different than the ones Roux gave Íñigo. He didn't need to. He was quite sure no one in that room had any illusions about what his and Diego's relationship involved. And if that had Diego looking and feeling better, he saw no reason, here among friends, to be ashamed of it.

"Time is short if we are to pay a visit to Lee's apartments tonight," Diego counseled, uncomfortable with the intimate tone of the conversation. Íñigo knew how matters stood with Orlando now, and he had no secrets from Roux, but though he trusted the older man completely, he did not care to speak so openly before Javier. In any case, it was not safe for them to fall into the habit of showing their emotions for each other freely, even among friends. "Tell us what you learned at the conde's country estate," he asked Roux, pulling a chair from the table and straddling it.

Roux flashed Diego a raffish grin that hinted at news of some import. With an inclusive wave of his hand, he gathered the others to the table, waiting for them to take their seats before he began, "The conde has a weakness, it seems."

tbc…