Author: Gypsie1201
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5x13, 6xN, R+1.
Warnings: Angst, AU, Evil Relena, Fantasy, Language, Lemon, OOC-ness, Romance, Sap, Slavery, Yaoi
Rating: NC-17
Archive: My livejournal (if you don't mind wandering through the rest of my craziness), anywhere else, please ask first.
Disclaimer: I don't own, just borrowing for a while so please don't sue.
Feedback: All is welcome and much appreciated.
Summary: Little did Lord Heero Yuy know that a simple bet made during a private card game among his closest friends would change his life. However, whether the change is for the good or the bad, remains to be seen.
'...' thoughts
One and Only Part 1
The day was cloudy and overcast with a chill that seemed to soak right into the bones. In addition, the heavy rains that had swept through the small town of Akrin during the past week had left behind a thick mud that even the cobblestone streets could not keep at bay. Nevertheless, that did not stop people from flocking to the market. Some came to peddle their wares, in hopes of making a profit no matter how small. Others came to purchase whatever goods or produce they needed and still others came to browse, hoping to find a pretty bauble or two they could take home.
In among the crowd that day, pushing their way towards the back of the market, walked two very striking young men. The one young man was tall, standing a good six feet with auburn hair that fell stylishly over one-half of his face, hiding one of his rather brilliant, emerald green eyes. The clothing he wore was stylish, without being overly rich: a dark green tunic that hung to mid-thigh, a pair of dark brown pants, and a matching pair of ankle boots. He had a simple, black cloak draped over his shoulders to combat the chill.
The other young man was a different story, however. Although he was not as tall as his companion was; standing only at about five foot six, and his warm, chocolate brown hair seemed to have never been combed; his clothing spoke of wealth and power. He was dressed in a royal blue tunic with silver embroidery that also hung to mid-thigh, but over his right breast was a crest that bore the image of a gryphon with a sword and shield grasped in its claws. He wore black pants and a pair of black boot that came up to mid-calf with a long cloak of royal blue velvet draped across his shoulders. However, the most striking feature about this young man was his eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of Prussian blue and would have been even more breathtaking if not for the icy indifference they always seemed to show the world.
As the pair moved through the crowd, both men and women alike turned their heads to steal a second glance. However, these two particular young men could not have cared less about the ogling of the crowd around them. They were far to caught up in their own conversation to pay them any mind.
"I already told you this is a waste of time." the one growled angrily. "I don't care if I won or not, it was just a stupid bet."
"And I already told you that I intent to fulfill my end of the bargain." the other explained, sidestepping a puddle of standing water on the cobblestone streets. "You won the game fair and square, Heero, and I will honor my wager."
"There are other ways of paying the wager than this."
"No, this is what I bet, so this is what you shall have."
Finally giving into his frustrations, Heero grabbed the other man by the arm and jerked him to a stop in the middle of the street.
"I don't care about the stupid bet, Trowa. You know how I feel about this and I absolutely refuse to own a slave." he growled dangerously.
"Then don't consider the person a slave, Heero. You know as well as I that we can't stop the slave trade, but we can save at least one today." Trowa countered, staring into his friend's eyes and willing him to understand. After all, this was not the first time they had had this conversation. When he saw Heero's shoulders visibly slump he knew he had won the battle, for now at least.
"I knew I shouldn't have let you and Quatre talk me into playing poker with the two of you."
Smiling slightly, the auburn haired man clapped his friend on the back before he turned and once again began pushing his way through the crowd.
********************
Walking down the aisle of the slave traders' pavilion, Heero felt himself becoming physically ill. The slave traders were relegated to the very back part of the market, where a specifically build pavilion housed them. The pavilion was basically two rows of wooden building, each building being roughly eighteen feet long by fifteen feet wide. The two rows were facing each other and there were three buildings on each side with a single, large roof connection them. Each slaver had anywhere from two to five slaves, which they were displaying to the public, with their remaining slaves locked securely within the building.
The slaves themselves were dressed in simple cotton clothing, if you could call it clothing at all. The females wore a shift type dress that, in most cases, reached to their knees and the males wore a short tunic that reached just to the top of their thighs with a pair of loose, knee length pants. All of their clothing showed signs of wear, some worse than others and some were little more than rags. None of them wore shoes of any kind. However, the worse part and the thing that bothered Heero the most, was the smell. The stench of unwashed human bodies, packed close together, combined with the sickly smell of fear and uncertainty, was almost unbearable.
Trowa, seeing his friend's discomfort, quickly scanned his eyes over the slaves. He had known that bringing Heero here was a risk, but Quatre had insisted. Whatever gift the blonde man possessed that gave him a feel for when important events where going to happen, had told him that Heero had to be there when the slave was purchased and in fact, it had been Quatre who had put Trowa up to making the bet in the first place. So here he was now, preparing to purchase a slave for his best friend in payment of that bet and while neither he nor Quatre were advocates of the slave trade, Heero had always been a staunch protestor of the trade; even going so far as to petition the king to request it be made illegal. After today however, he would be an owner himself. What repercussions could that possibly have for his reputation?
"Trowa, I don't think..." Heero started, as if sensing his friend's inner conflict. Looking back at the man, Trowa noticed the subtle sway in his stance and the slightly, greenish tint to his complexion and knew he had to make a decision fast before Heero bolted for the exit. It had taken all of Quatre's considerable talents at manipulation and in the end; he had quite literally guilt tripped Heero into coming here, and if they turned back now, there was no way Heero would ever agree to return. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a set of slaves that looked as though they were a bit healthier than most of the others they had seen and deciding that it was now or never, Trowa grabbed Heero by the arm and led him toward the slaver's building.
Upon seeing the two young men approach, the slaver immediately stepped forward and greeted them with a deep bow.
"G'day, gentlemen. How can I be o'service ta ye?"
"We are here to make a purchase for my friend." Trowa said and indicated Heero, who was standing slightly behind him. The slaver looked the young man over carefully, his eye almost immediately coming to rest on the man's chest where he instantly recognized the Yuy family crest.
"Don't mind me sayin', but why would his lordship be wishin' ta buy a slave? I thought he didna hold ta keepin' slaves."
"I don't. I think it's barbaric and disgusting." Heero stated, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Heero." Trowa said softly, laying his hand on his friend's arm. Once again, he watched as the man's shoulders slumped and knew he was recalling their earlier conversation. Turning back to the slaver, he fixed the man with a glare of his own.
"It is true that Lord Yuy does not now nor will he ever condone the act of slavery. This purchase however, is being made by his friends and will be a gift to him from those friends; how he chooses to accept that gift is up to him."
"O'... o'course, yer lordships. I didna mean ta insult. Please, these be the best I have." he stuttered, indicating the slaves behind him while throwing nervous glances at Heero, after all, the young Lord Yuy was well known for his volatile temper.
Unfortunately, as they had been speaking to the trader, Trowa had been appraising the three slaves that were on display and knew that none of them were suitable. While Quatre had not been overly specific concerning the physical appearance of the slave, he had given Trowa two requirements. One the slave must be male and second he must have incredibly long hair.
"No, these won't do." Trowa said after giving the appearance of looking the slaves over, he did not want the slaver to know they were looking for something specific or he would drive the price up if they managed to find the one they wanted here. "Would it be possible to see the rest that you have?"
"O'course, yer lordships. Please, this a way." the trader mentioned for them to follow him toward a door at the far left of the building where a large man was sitting on a low stool. As they approached, the man stood and the trader instructed him to keep an eye on the others while they were inside. Then, taking a key ring from his belt, he unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Inside was a small room, which was roughly fifteen feet wide by eight feet long, containing a desk and a few chairs. There was a small window in the back wall that allowed the gloomy light from outside to filter in but the majority of the room's light was provided by oil lanterns. There were also two other doors, located in the long wall opposite to where they had entered, and it was to the first of the doors that the slaver led them.
Once again, the man took out his key ring but before he opened the door, he reached up, unhooked one of the oil lamps from its holder, and handed it to Trowa. Then, giving the young man a nod, he turned back to the door and slipped the key into the lock. A quick turn of the key, then a twist of the knob and the door was pulled open a small ways. The man then leaned in close to the small opening and peered inside. What he saw evidently pleased him because he stepped back with a large grin on his face and pulled it open the rest of the way before walking inside; mentioning the two young men to follow.
Heero had thought the smell out on the street had been unbearable but nothing compared to the smell inside that room. From what he could see of it with the light from the oil lamp they had brought in with them, the room was about eight feet by ten feet. There was no furniture and the floor appeared to be covered by a two-inch thick layer of straw. Just the thought of what could possibly be crawling around in the stuff made Heero itch.
In the far left corner of the room was crouched four or five forms, they were all huddled together and turned away from the light so it was impossible to tell exactly how many there were nor whether they were male or female. However, as soon as the slaver snapped his fingers, they scrambled out of the corner and knelt before him; their heads bowed. Heero immediately counted four, two male and two female.
Shaking his head in disgust at what he was seeing, Heero looked away and noticed movement in the other far corner of the room. Unfortunately, the oil lamp was not bright enough to illuminate the area, leaving Heero to peer closely; trying to see through the deep gloom. Just when he was beginning to think that it had been an illusion of the flames from the lamp, he saw it again. Picking his way carefully across the room, he approached the corner. Soon he was close enough to make out the shape of a small figure curled up tightly against the back corner of the room. Intrigued as to why this slave was staying apart from the others as well as why he or she had not acted when summoned; he called for Trowa to bring the lantern closer.
"But yer lordship, surely these others be more ta yer likin'." the trader said.
Ignoring the man's attempts at stopping him, and with more than a little curiosity as to what had captured Heero's attention, Trowa made his way across the small room. Once he was close enough that the light illuminated the hidden corner Heero was now crouched in front of, Trowa could see a small figure. By the clothing the slave was wearing, Trowa guessed he was a boy, although he could not be absolutely sure. The slave was sitting with his back pressed tightly to the corner and his knees were drawn up tight against his chest; two thin, frail arms were wrapped around equally thin legs and the slave's face was buried in his knees. The only thing truly discernable was the top of the boy's head, which was covered by dirty brown hair.
Coming up to stand beside Heero, Trowa crouched down at his friend's side and wondered once again what could have possibly peeked his interest concerning this particular slave. However, before he could question him, the slave suddenly raised his head and looked directly at Heero. The movement caused two things to become clear to Trowa, first being that the slave was indeed a boy, a very young boy, but more importantly, it also revealed a long braid of hair. Allowing himself to hope but not yet fully believe, Trowa waited to see what would happen next.
'My god, he has violet eyes.' was Heero's thought as the boy continued to stare at him. The fear he saw in those beautiful eyes however caused something to twist painfully in his chest.
"Please yer lordship." the slaver begged, breaking Heero out of his trance but not before noticing the boy's flinch when he heard the trader speak.
"It's alright no one's going to hurt you anymore. I promise." Heero said softly. However, instead of answering, the boy once again lowered his head to rest on his knees. "Hn, Trowa."
Upon hearing his friend speak his name, Trowa knew that their search was over and immediately stood to face the trader to begin the negotiations. At first the man out and out refused to sale the boy as it seemed he was a new arrival; having only been picked up about a week before. The trader also informed him that the boy had been very difficult and was not yet trained. However, Trowa was not to be put off and with some careful persuasion as well as a large offering price, the trader finally caved.
Heero meanwhile could not have cared less about the negotiations that were taking place only a few feet away. As soon as Trowa had turned away, he had removed his cloak and, moving slowly so as not to frighten the boy, he wrapped the garment around the small frame. Being in that close of contact, Heero was better able to determine his health and was appalled at what he found. Even without seeing, one touch let him know that the boy's ribs would have been plainly visible. As soon as he had the cloak wrapped as securely around the boy as he could manage, he lifted him into his arms. Yet again, Heero's heart ached at the fact that the boy seemed to weight next to nothing and he had to fight down his anger at the fact that someone would do this to another human being. Unfortunately, the boy seemed to sense his anger and stiffened in his arms.
"Shh, it's alright." Heero soothed and made an effort to calm himself.
By the time Heero had managed to calm himself back down, Trowa was finishing the last details of the purchase after which the slaver took his money and left the small room; mentioning for them to follow. Turning back to his friend, Trowa was surprised to find the small bundle wrapped securely in his friend's cloak and cradled in his friend's arms. Quirking an eyebrow at the strange display from the normally distant young man, Trowa allowed his silent question to hang between them. Heero, knowing his friend was confused by his behavior but not knowing exactly how to explain it, simply looked at his friend; his expression blank. Shaking his head when he realized he was not getting an answer, Trowa turned to leave.
The slaver appeared once again just as they were exiting the room, in one hand he held a bill of sale that he handed to Trowa and in the other was a set of iron shackles. Instinctively, Heero tightened his hold on the boy.
"What are those for?" he growled, his glare promising a painful and messy death if the answer was what he thought it was.
"Yer lordship, th.. the slave, he hasta be chained. F.. fer yer protection."
"No."
"B.. but..."
"I said no. And if you come any closer to him with those things, I'll strangle you with them." The slaver visible gulped and took a step backwards, leaving the two young men a clear path to the door out.
With one last glare, Heero stalked across the room with Trowa following immediately behind. Moving as quickly as they possibly could through the town, using what back alleys and side streets they knew in order to minimize the boy's exposure to the town's population, the two men made their way back to Yuy Manor.
Yuy Manor was a sprawling complex located near the center of Akrin that was situated on five acres of land and surrounded by a high wall made of white and grey stone. The main house was a large, two-story structure made of the same stone blocks as the wall, with eight bedrooms; all located on the second floor. The first floor contained the kitchen, parlor, both the formal and private dining rooms, and the ballroom. There was also a large patio, which led out from the ballroom at the back of the house and into the private gardens. Also located on the grounds were the servants' quarters, which housed those people who were hired by the Yuy family as cooks, gardeners, maids, and various other positions; along with their respective families.
The employees of Yuy Manor were accustomed to their young lord's eccentricities and had gotten used to odd things happening from time to time, especially when his friends were involved. So, when the door was thrown open and he came bustling through carrying what suspiciously looked like a person wrapped up in his cloak, the maids simply blinked then returned to whatever they had been doing.
As soon as he arrived home, Heero rushed his precious burden upstairs where he brought the boy to one of the bedrooms next door to his own. Gently, he lowered the small form to the bed and pulled the cloak from his face. The boy's eyes were closed and his face was relaxed in sleep, making him look so very young. Seeing the bruises and scrapes on that delicate, heart-shaped face made him both sad and angry by turns but realizing there was nothing else he could do, he sat down on the edge of the bed to wait.
When they had reached the gates to the manor, Heero had asked Trowa to fetch Quatre. As the town's most respected doctor, Quatre Winner was the best person to treat the boy. Luckily, Quatre lived only a short distance from the manor and both he and Trowa arrived fifteen minutes later. A servant met them at the door and having seen which room the young master had entered, quickly led them up the stairs.
Heero looked up from his perusal of the boy's face when he heard the door open, his relief at seeing his two friends clearly evident in his eyes.
"Quatre, I thank you for coming." he said as he left the bed to great them.
"That's quite alright, Heero. Now, shall I see to my patient?"
"He hasn't woken up yet." Heero explained, the worry in his voice causing Quatre to stare for a moment before shaking himself then setting about examining the boy. Behind him, he could feel Heero hovering at his shoulder and was immediately grateful when Trowa took the dark-haired man aside with the excuse of discussing the upcoming senate meetings.
Being as gentle as possible, Quatre slowly removed the cloak from around the boy's body. He immediately realized that a proper examination would not be possible until they had cleaned him up, there was just too much dirt and grim encrusted on his skin to see what his injuries were. He was also in need of new clothes, the ones he was currently wearing were little more than rags, the shirt was three sizes too big for him and threadbare in so many places; it was lucky to be in one piece. The pants were not in much better shape, although they did seem to fit him better.
"You poor, poor thing." Quatre whispered softly as he brushed the bangs out of the boy's closed eyes. Gently, he ran his fingers down one soft cheek then along the hairline where he hooked a straggling strand that had escaped the braid behind the boy's ear. Suddenly his eyes opened impossibly wide and he gasped sharply. "Oh my god. Heero! Trowa!"
Hearing the near panic in the other man's voice, both Heero and Trowa quickly crossed the room. Trowa immediately moved to the smaller man's side and placed a soothing hand at the small of his back, while Heero came to stand on his other side; an anxious look on his face. At the look on Quatre's face though, Heero's anxiety doubled. The blonde was white as a ghost and staring at the boy on the bed with a look that could only be described as absolute horror. One of the man's hands was cupped around the boy's left ear and trembling quite noticeably.
"What is it Quatre, what's wrong with him?" Heero asked, a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach at the thought that the boy was possibly dying. However, he soon found out it was something much worse. As soon as Quatre heard Heero's voice so close to his side, he removed his hand from over the boy's ear. The movement drew Heero's eye and what he saw made him wish desperately that he had just stayed in bed that day. Because there, seemingly so innocent and harmless, was one delicate and beautifully pointed ear.
"Oh my god." Heero breathed. "He's an elf."
TBC...
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