Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Forever Hidden ❯ THE SLAVE ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Note: will contain YAOI; YURI; and HET relationships...s&m, non-consentual sex...is AU...please read and review.



Forever Hidden

part 1:
The Slave


The floor on which the young man lay was cold and damp, strewn with a thin layer of mildewing straw. It was hard and uncomfortable, yet the boy could not move. He lay still against one wall, barely able to stretch his bony legs out without hitting the opposite wall.

A door opened with a clang that echoed off the stone walls of the prison, followed by resounding footsteps. The boy on the floor opened his violet eyes, but remained completely still otherwise.

"Feh..." came a voice...an almost pleasant voice with a faint northern accent. "It reaks of shite in here!"

"I am sorry, my lord general," came the stammering reply. "This is the slave pens..."

"Yes, yes," the first voice brushed off the slaver keeper's babbling apology impatiently. "Let me see the slaves...I want to leave this wretched place as soon as I bloody can."

Lying still, the boy listened to the shuffling footsteps as they moved through the slave pens, accompanied by nasal mutters; the clinking of chains and an occasional shout. The chestnut haired boy's muscels tensed painfully as the sounds grew closer to his cramped stall.

Step...step...step...a growl of "Get up," the sound of a smack...step...step...

The boy forced himself to breath dispite his growing fear. He knew what was going to happen-but he could do nothing to prevent it. It would do no good to fear it, either.

Footsteps...closer, closer...

The slave keeper was nearly at his stall. Then he would unlock the iron chain that held the boy to a ring in the wall. The young man would be dragged into the corridor between stalls and forced to stand there. The buyer would walk the line of slaves and choose the one he wanted. Then they would leave and the slaves would be chained up once again. The violet eyed boy was never chose-he was skinny, even for a slave, and unsuitable for labor. And with each buyer gone, he was beaten more, fed less. He was dying-slowly and painfully...Another buyer or two gone, and his spirit would forever flee his weak body.

Step...step...step...

Through his thick lashes, the boy saw the slave keeper-a small, squat man with a lame leg and a chubby, red face-pause at his stall. He started in, dragging his long six-tailed whip behind him, his shuffling feet leaving trails through the straw.

"Get up," he growled at the boy, flicking his whip over the young man's body just enough to give him a painful sting. The keeper would not leave noticable marks on the merchendise-not when a buyer was waiting, anyhow.

Wincing, the boy sat, his eyes focused on the grimy floor. The keeper was unlocking his chain from the wall, tugging on it to force the slave to his feet.

Standing on wobbly legs, the boy was forced to follow the shorter keeper out of his stall and into the hallway.

The corridor was slightly better lit than the boy's tiny cell...for the most part, the floor was swept clear of straw and feces. The air was also cleaner, thanks to the open door leading to the outside world-but it still reaked, even to the young man's desensitized nose.

As the boy had suspected, there was already a line of slaves against the wall opposite the stalls...and the buyer-a surpisingly small, blackhaired man in a crimson uniform-was already inspecting the merchendise.

Even as the slave keeper forced the boy into plave at the end of the line, he looked the perspective slaves over. They were a sad bunch, clad in dirty rags with beards and matted hair. There was one girl, it seemed, but her featured were hidden under a thick layer of grime and dirt-the young man couldn't even tell how old she was. Still...her gender in itself made her a prime choice for many buyers. There was also a man who seemed healthier than the other slaves...his clothing wasn't so tattered and his hair seemed to have been, at one point anyhow, carefully kept. He stood straight and strong, though his eyes were fixed pointedly on the floor. He was likely a war prisoner and, dispite an ugly scar marring his face, was good working material.

The slave keeper dropped the young slave's chain on the dirty stone ground and suffled away to bring out the rest of the slaves. Violet eyes closed as the boy swayed unsteadily on his feet. He could hear the keeper's scruffing footsteps and the buyer's slower, deliberate ones as he looked over the prospects.

It wasn't long before another slave was positioned beside the young man...and time became a blur. The footsteps and shuffling...the figiting slaves, harsh breathing and gentle sway as the boy fought to keep his balance. And eternity past each second until a strong hand forced the boy's head up.

Without meaning to, without really thinking, the young slave raised his eyes to meet the calculating dark blue ones. Eyes widened in horror of his action, the boy hastily closed them once again, trembling as he waited for the unavoidable blow to fall. He had had the gall to stare a buyer, a free man, in the eyes...he would surely pay.

Strong fingers released his chin, and the slave braced himself. There was a crack, the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh even before the pain blossumed in the long haired boy's cheek. Tears of pain welled in his expressive eyes and the hurt spread across his face, his flesh and bone aching with the force of the simple slap. The buyer was stronger than most men...it was just a slap, yet it hurt so much...

"I'll take this one," the cultured voice said, and the young man forced his pain aside long enough to open an eye. The buyer was gesturing at him vaguely with a white gloved hand...

His eyes widened, his pain vanished, the newly purchased slave felt utter astonishment flow through his veins, invading his mind and heart, numbing his body. He swallowed a gasp and forced his eyes to remain focused securly on the ground. Someone wanted him...someone bought him,...out of the corner of his eye, he could see his surprise mirrored on the slave keeper's face, as his new master whirled and strode from the stalls, leaving his trembling slave behind.

"Get him cleaned up, then send him to my room." the order trailed behind him, lingering in the slave's mand even as the precise footsteps faded into nothingness.



note: short, I know...I just wanted to get something out. The next part is actually already underway. review please?