Chapter Text
Ormund knew now that Gwayne was sent to him by The Seven not as temptation to overcome but as a reward for his faith. He had not always felt like this. In his youth he lashed out and tormented Gwayne because otherwise he would do something that he would regret. He first noticed his cousin’s burgeoning beauty one day while Gwayne was training to become a knight. Quick glances became intimidating stares overtime as he found it harder and harder to look away when Gwayne was in his presence. Everything worsened when Ormund came upon Gwayne and a stable boy. He felt an intense anger and loathing that he was sure could be explained by Gwayne’s perversion of The Faith, what he could not explain was the thrill he felt at seeing fear in Gwayne’s eyes at having been caught, there was also no reason why his trousers should feel tighter seeing Gwayne flushed and with lips red from use.
Once inside in his chambers, having delegated punishment for the stable boy for some reason or other that nobles need not justify, he turned to Gwayne.
“Cousin, I always knew you carried a rot in you.” He said in a calm voice, expecting Gwayne to succumb to tears and beg his cousin for discretion. He had not expected for Gwayne to stand his ground and have his fear turn into hatred.
“You will speak of this to no one.” Gwayne said with a firm voice. Ormund laughed mockingly. He owed Gwayne nothing and should in fact have already been calling for the Septon to take Gwayne to a sept and have him confess to his sins, but something stopped him.
“What does my silence buy?” He asked Gwayne.
“What do you want?”
He thought about it and one thing came to mind, but would he really act on what he himself now was condemning his cousin for. He thought of The Father, a scale in hand, on one side stood Ormund and on the other propriety, decorum, faith, and duty. Why should he not give in? It was not the same as his cousin who was perversion in human form. Ormund was faithful, dutiful, and the future head of House Hightower, whatever he desired was owed to him by The Seven. Gwayne was lesser than he, he should not affect him so. If he could touch Gwayne, he could confirm that the fault lay with his cousin and not with himself. Having come to that conclusion, he reached out to Gwayne.
Gwayne recoiled back, thinking that Ormund was going to get violent, instead he found himself pinned to the wall. His wrists held up high by Ormund’s hand, their difference in size and strength becoming alarmingly clear, while Ormund’s other hand held his chin.
“I have judged you, as the Father has, and I have found you lacking.” Then he brought his lips to Gwayne’s.
He could hear Gwayne’s confusion in is throat and before his cousin could kick him, Ormund parted his legs by bringing his knee to Gwayne’s soft member. He bit at Gwayne’s lips to the point of breaking skin. Blood rushed into his mouth and did nothing but spur him on, his tongue battling with Gwayne’s. Finally, he pulled away, panting for air.
“You are a hypocrite.” Gwayne said while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His flushed red cheeks and his heaving chest trying to take in air painted a lewd picture for Ormund. He knew Gwayne could not turn to anyone, for to do so would be to condemn himself.
“I am a follower of The Faith, and the means through which your soul will be saved. You will meet me here every third day for confession.”
Confession ended up being an hour of Ormund having his way with Gwayne, who remained angry but never failed to show up. As Gwayne’s bobbing head on his member brought him to a state of relaxation, Ormund rested his head back on the chair in his chambers and let his mind wander to thoughts of the man that was currently kneeling between his legs. His cousin had recently achieved knighthood and all that training was apparent in his lithe body and lean muscles. He looked down at Gwayne, who had his eyes closed as he kept going. Ormund reached out a hand and put it on Gwayne’s head, grabbing a fistful of hair. Gwayne opened his eyes and they made eye contact as Gwayne swallowed Ormund’s spend.
As Gwayne swallowed the last of it, he waited to see what came next. When this had first began, he had promised himself he would not give Ormund the satisfaction of reacting in the way he knew his cousin expected of him. Ormund revelled in humiliating others, he mistook his authority for righteousness and thought himself an enforcer of The Seven. Yet, there were times he could see where Ormund did live up to ideals of The Faith. He could be just and merciful and fair… when he wanted to. He was a walking contradiction that confused Gwayne and intrigued him. He had looked up to Ormund when he was younger, until Ormund seemed to become crueler as Gwayne matured. He understood now that all those years, he was being punished for Ormund’s attraction to him that he did not even realize existed until that day with the stable boy.
The fear he felt at being found out was like nothing he had experienced. He had thought that Ormund would denounce him in front of the whole family, instead he had ended up in Ormund’s chambers, mouths pressed together. Now weeks had passed and Gwayne still willingly showed up, denying a part of himself that felt excitement at the secrecy, at knowing that behind Ormund’s righteousness, he was as much a sinner as himself.
Ormund enjoyed calling on The Father to spew about judgement but Gwayne, having also grown up in The Faith of the Seven, knew that judgement without true justice was simply condemnation.