It was warm outside. Not as hot as in summer, but still warm. Summer was unbearable in Alubarna when the sun burned skin, made plants wither and the residents crave for a little rain. However, inside of the large house it was cool, the soft splashing of the fountain sounded through the inner courtyard, and a man with a white beard and the frame of many lived years rested on a divan bed. His eyes were a milky gray from the illness that took most of his sight away.
Benn entered the room, soundlessly as always, tray in hand, filled with some tea and cookies. His bare chest was covered by a necklace, golden and heavy, the attached ruby a constant reminder to the world that he was nothing. Nothing but a thing people could buy, use and sell.
He shifted the tray in his hands and some of the glasses chinked together. The sound caused the old man to turn, his eyes trying to see, even though it was hard and nearly impossible by now.
"Benn, is that you?" he asked, his voice rusty and low. He wouldn't live much longer, probably not even long enough to have to face total blindness. It was nothing Benn really cared about. He would not remain in this house when time took the life of his current owner.
"Yes Master, it's me," he spoke, voice neutral as ever. His whole being was indifferent. His voice, his eyes, his expressions and his stance. Some people would call it arrogant, others bold. For Benn, it was the only way to not totally lose who he was, even though he wasn't sure if he even was someone.
When he reached the man who owned him, he placed the tray on a small table in front of the divan and knelt in front of it. Benn picked up one of the glasses and placed it into the hand of his master. He couldn't assume the old man would pick it up by himself, because he couldn't see it anymore.
Benn's hand softly but firmly opened the fragile fingers, then closed them around the glass again. He made sure to show were the cookies stood, too, before he pushed himself up, ready to leave.
"Wait, before you go," his master said, and Benn halted in his movements, turning to face the man, even though that wasn't necessary to speak with him. There had been a time when the old man had loved to strip Benn with his eyes, but this was some months ago. Now he couldn't do that anymore.
"Yes, Master?" Benn said to indicate he was still here. He wondered why. He wondered why he never tried to run, to just risk it and leave. His fingers brushed the ruby, and he frowned. He knew why. Because he still treasured his life, and the moment he would go, the jewel would release its energy, explode and take Benn with it, down to the darkness that was the only thing remaining in death. No one had been able to answer his question if freedom is valued higher than your own life. He would wait until someone could honestly answer it.
By now, the old man had sat up, and his hand tapped the cushion next to his body. "Come here," he said, and Benn followed his wish, as he was supposed to follow every demand his owner made. He could force Benn, if he refused, the small golden ring on his left middle finger ensured it.
"I'm getting old, Benn. Really, really old. You served me well. Always a nice sight. Always polite. You served me well. But I'm not really active anymore, as you know. I'm sorry I can't keep you. But I will take a high price, to make sure you will get a nice home. Mhm mhm, yes, a nice home you will get, and I will get some nice money for my grandchildren..."
The voice broke and faded, but Benn could see that the thought made his master happy. He didn't discuss any of it. It wasn't worth telling a person who always got what they wanted and if not, could buy it with money, that a slave never had a home. One needed to be free to have a home, and Benn wasn't free. He had seen more houses, cities and countries than most people would ever see in their lives. But still, all that was left was nothingness. He wasn't free and so he didn't see the need to correct the old man. People like his master would never understand, and tended not to listen, anyway.
As a pleasure slave, Benn knew his master would make good money. They were sold by the highest prices, if famous, people would actually kill over some of the best slaves. Benn was one of them. His body was in perfect shape, his owners usually made sure he could train several times a week, to keep it that way. He had no scars, at least none visible, alabaster skin and the face of a foreigner, just enough mystery and elegance in it to drive people wild by merely looking at him. He knew how to pleasure both men and women and he could fulfill random other tasks, like serving, which was highly appreciated by the ladies. People loved to desire him, and they loved even more to use him. It was what he was bought and sold for. He wouldn't tell those lords and ladies that he could actually do a lot more, that he knew how to handle money, knew how to run a business. Those things, people didn't need to be aware of. They spent their money so he could please them. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Yes, Master," Benn answered the little speech, not giving anything away. What could he do about it, anyway? He could only live with it and hope the next one who bought him would treat him nice enough. Not all of the lords and ladies who bought themselves slaves were nice to them. Nevertheless, as a pleasure slave, torture was mostly done mentally, to not harm the body that would bring money when sold. Also, a lot of people didn't want to look at scars while having sex. Benn could endure mental torture. He had and he would again.
"You're still sitting next to me, right Benn?"
The voice was saturated with triumphant, as if the man was proud he had managed to see at least that much, and Benn answered with a plain, "Yes, Master."
"Good. Make me feel good!" came the command, and Benn's eyes went neutral again. He locked his heart behind steel as he opened the buttons on the shirt and the trousers while brittle fingers touched his chest and tried to claim him. Benn let them believe they succeeded, even though he knew no one ever did. Because even though they claimed his body, nobody would ever own his soul.
It was warm outside the house. Not as warm as in summer, but still warm. However it wasn't the reason Benn Beckman only wore some light trousers and a necklace. It never would be, Benn knew it never would be, as his current master, blind, old and rugged, moaned under his touches.
The procedure was always the same. Slave stood next to slave, body next to body. It didn't matter if they were men or women, as long as they wore the necklace, they were slaves and therefore worth some money. Normally, a lot of people, mostly lords or ladies, people of wealth and fame, would stroll through the auction house, looking at the merchandise and deciding what was the best they could afford with their money. If two buyers wanted the same slave, they had to outbid the other and the last owner could be happy over some extra money.
Today, though, it was different. The hall was empty, except of each and every slave the auctioneer had in stock. All of them, Benn was sure of it, had been displayed today, even though he didn't know why. Then a man, he was called Disko, entered and his usually friendly looking face was distorted with anger and disgust. He knew how to fool the buyers, he just didn't put that much effort in his mask when facing his goods.
"I want all of you to behave yourself today. If one of you doesn't, I will personally punish you and beat you up until I can see your bare bones. One of the Yonkos is coming today, got it? Behave!" he shouted, and Benn could feel the mood shifting. Fear rose, mostly in the children and women, but some of the men shivered too, while others stood straighter than before, maybe hoping to make a good impression and being bought by one of the four most powerful people in the world. Benn didn't care. This was the territory of Kaidou. He wouldn't want to serve that monster. He wouldn't want to serve any of them.
There were four people who ruled most of the known land. They were called the Yonko, and their territory covered most of what people had explored so far, which wasn't much. A lot of places were still unknown, and as they were discovered by adventurers working under the Yonko, they were also claimed. The people either loved or feared those four, mostly depending on the area they lived in. Despite what people said about them, Benn knew they were powerful and therefore no one he wanted to be owned by. Powerful people tended not to care for their underlings and throw away their slaves like garbage. If he could avoid the attention of that Yonko, he would.
His expression was indifferent as ever, fully aware that it could bring down the wrath of either Disko or that Yonko, but he didn't care too much. He was probably one of the highest priced people in here. That idiot of an auctioneer would stop anyone from killing or torturing him before he got his money. Dead people didn't sell well. Benn would start worrying when he was sold, and not before.
When the door opened, all eyes were drawn to it, Benn's as well. However, he heard a voice before he saw the matching face enter the room. It was a tall man, with black hair and a frown on his face. He didn't look very happy at all, as he crossed his arms before his chest and looked at someone Benn couldn't see yet.
"Do you really think this is wise? Honestly, I don't want a war just because you want to act like a saint. I'm not fighting for you, you hear? I am not! Kaidou can beat you to the ground, and I will not care at all..."
Whatever those words meant, Benn knew in an instant that it wasn't Kaidou who visited. It was strange, as normally a Yonko didn't enter the other one's territory. Not that it changed much, but it baffled Benn. Both that this Yonko seemed bold enough not to play by the rules and also that the black-haired man was talking like this to his superior, without being punished, locked away or killed.
"Come on, Yasopp, don't be a scaredy-cat. This will be alright. It's a free country, after all," someone laughed and this laugh sent chills down Benn's spine. He had never heard such an open and honest laugh, ever. It was straightforward and true and something Benn wished he could do himself, too.
The man who entered now had vivid red hair, a smile that seemed to cover all of his face and the brightest eyes. He was handsome, even though three parallel scars ran over his left eye. Only a moment later, Benn realized who he was. Shanks, a Yonko, one of the most powerful men in history… and totally in the wrong territory.
"It's a free country, but it's not your free country," another voice answered, and eventually, Benn managed to look away from the Yonko and to his second companion behind him. The man was at least thrice his size, but not in the height, but in the width, and he still had something to eat in his hand. What kind of companions were that?! he wondered.
"Yes, yes, I know. Thanks for the reminder," Shanks answered and finally looked away from his company into the room. Benn had never seen an expression shift so fast, but what had been happiness and joy before, was now covered rage and a fury that was very well hidden somewhere deep down in the Yonko's heart. Only his eyes betrayed him. Maybe not even those, but Benn knew this look. He knew the indifference that covered everything a person wasn't allowed to give away. He wondered whether he had been the only one who noticed that shift. As subtle as it was, and most people would just call it neglect, Benn knew it wasn't. It was rage, a rage no one was allowed to see, not even his companions. Benn just wondered why Shanks was looking like that. He was a Yonko after all, a person seen as a king and ruler. He should be used to buying slaves. He certainly could make people into them.
Shanks stepped into the room, and a moment later, Disko was by his side, bowing in front of him.
"Your Highness, I'm very happy you're here. If you wish anyth–" he started, but was interrupted by the Yonko. Shanks' voice was neutral, but the cold edge was audible. This man was dangerous, Benn knew it instantly.
"I don't! Just get on with it."
"As you wish, Your Highness, as you wish. What kind of sla–" Disko went on, but again, he was interrupted.
"No one specific," Shanks said, and as Benn watched him, going through the rows, picking random slaves, mostly kids, but also men and women, he realized that indeed nothing of this was planned. There was no system in his choosing. The Yonko neither asked about the talents or tasks the slaves normally did, nor about the behavior of the people he chose. Instead, he looked them in the face, asked for a name and the price, before he decided to buy or not. After a while, Benn noticed Disko's prices were way too high, but Shanks had not even once declined to take a slave because of it. When he was told the price, Shanks shrugged his shoulders and nodded. He either didn't notice or didn't care that he was swindled.
When the Yonko said yes to a person, his black-haired companion paid the money, and Shanks got the ring that controlled the necklace. He let it slip into one of his pockets before he went on without saying anything. The mood was clouded by silence, which was only interrupted by questions Shanks asked and Disko answered.
It took a while until they reached Benn, but eventually they came over to where he stood. He didn't bow his head as all the other slaves had. He probably would have, if he had seen any advantage in it like staying unseen in the crowd, but he had the feeling that today not a single one of the slaves would be overlooked. Those bright eyes didn't miss a person just because they looked away.
Then they took hold of him and a shudder went down Benn's spine. He gulped, but he didn't flinch and he didn't look away. There was no use in it, and Benn realized a small hint of astonishment in the other man's face.
"What's your name?" Shanks asked, his gaze unwavering and somehow something in his tone was different than before. Benn couldn't tell what, but he suddenly felt as if he and the Yonko were alone in this room. He felt as if this question was spoken to a man on the same level as Shanks, though he knew this would never happen. But it didn't change the strange connection between them.
"His name is–" Disko wanted to answer the question, as he had all the others as well, but Shanks only lifted his hand and the man hushed, surprised.
"I didn't ask you."
The voice was sharp, but it were those eyes that irritated Benn. Shanks wasn't looking away, not a second. He held his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, Benn wanted to look away, but couldn't. As he didn't answer, the other spoke again.
"So what is it? Your name?"
"Benn," he answered slowly, trying to remember how to speak. What was wrong with him?
"Benn," Shanks repeated, as if he wanted to taste the sound of it on his tongue. Then he nodded and in the short moment he looked away, the spell was broken. A small sigh escaped Benn's lips even though he didn't know why, just to find his attention drawn back to the man again. "What's your profession?"
The question made Benn stare at the Yonko for a moment, before he laughed bitterly. It just happened and wasn't planned. Usually his selfcontrol didn't slip that easily. The moment the sound escaped his mouth, Disko took a deep breath, anger swelling in his eyes, but he was ignored and not bold enough to act in front of a Yonko.
Meanwhile, Shanks frowned, asking, "What is so funny about it?" If Benn hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd seen a little pout on the redhead's face. A man of this power didn't pout, did he?
"I'm a slave," Benn answered when his dry laugh faded and indifference was back in his expression. "A slave has no profession. A slave does what he is ordered to do."
It seemed as if Shanks wanted to say something, but he didn't open his mouth. Instead a certain kind of sadness enveloped him for a moment. It was gone when Disko interrupted them again, smiling friendly as if nothing had happened at all. His anger was hidden behind a friendly mask, but Benn knew he would be punished, if he was still in here after the Yonko left. He didn't mind, it had been worth it.
"He's a pleasure slave, Your Highness. One of the best, to be precise. Maybe a little dumb, but very willing," he praised him, but Benn could see Shanks didn't really care what the auctioneer said. He could also see that the redhead didn't believe the other man for a moment when he called Benn dumb. Shit, he would have preferred to keep his charade of being a not-good-for-anything-but-sex.
"What's his price?" Shanks asked, and Disko smiled. He saw the big money and already thought of everything he would buy of the percentage he got from it. It even lessened the fury from moments before.
"Three billion berry, Your Highness," he said, and Benn suppressed a snort. He was worth much, yes, but not that much. He knew any moment now this Yonko would shake his head and declare he couldn't afford to pay that much money for a single slave. However, Shanks surprised him.
"Fine," he said neutrally, and for the first time one of the other two men who had been with the Yonko stepped in. It was Yasopp, the one who handled the money.
"Shanks, that's too much," he declared, eyes wide at his superior's behavior and a frown on his face. The other man who Benn had overheard being called Roo nodded and actually forgot to eat for a moment. Benn had known it. There was a certain amount of money people were willing to pay and maybe the top price was set a little higher for a Yonko, but still not that high.
"Nothing is too much for the right person," Shanks answered sharply and just held his head up a little higher. Suddenly he had the air of a person who ruled. He looked like a man who rightfully was one of the most powerful in this land, even though he could hardly be older than Benn himself. "I will pay it out of my own account."
"Are you serious?" Yasopp asked, unsure how to handle the antics of his ruler, but Benn knew the other wouldn't back down now. Somehow the impending change of his ownership didn't bother him too much anymore, even though he had not wanted to serve a Yonko only hours ago. He had no idea how this man would treat him. Normally Benn could guess as much, but in this case he was just clueless. It still didn't bother him as much as it should. He would find out soon enough, that was for sure, as Shanks just held out his hand.
"My purse!" he said firmly, and Yasopp fished for a brown leather purse and handed it to the redhead. But before Shanks handed over the money, he looked at Disko. "I want the ring beforehand!"
A slight shadow of greed showed on the auctioneer's face, but then it disappeared and he was his friendly self again. However, Benn had seen it and to his astonishment Shanks had as well, because he raised his eyebrow slightly. Then Disko opened a metal ring and searched for what would allow any person to control Benn, and take his life with nothing more than a thought. A golden ring was handed to Shanks and this time the Yonko slipped it on his finger instead of putting it in his pocket. The magic it contained allowed the ring to fit perfectly, and Benn could feel how his life shifted. The necklace got warmer and burned his skin, an agonizing pain Benn had to endure with each switch. The ring had accepted his new master, and Benn had been sold again.
Shanks' eyes widened as he pushed the ring over his finger, and he stared at Benn before he stared at his necklace. It was as if Benn could see pain in those bright eyes. Pain and concern and hatred for the situation and shock, as if he saw Benn in a new light. But then it was gone, locked away behind steel walls. Again, something Benn knew all too well. This couldn't be. How could he know all those things, how could he know what the other was feeling? He didn't know that person, Yonko or not, he would not become attached to someone who owned him. He had learned that emotional bonds only led to misery. He would not allow that, though a small part in Benn was drawn to the redhead.
With a swift movement, Shanks shoved the money into the auctioneer's hand, visibly not caring that he just had paid a fortune for a slave and crossed the small distance between them. Even though Benn wanted to flinch and back away, he didn't. He wasn't allowed and he should get used to it. As a pleasure slave, privacy was nothing he could call his own.
Meanwhile, Shanks stood before him, looking into his eyes and searching for something. If Benn hadn't known better, he would have called it a search for permission, but why should a master ask his slave for his consent? That was insane. When Shanks didn't find what he was looking for, he sighed. His hands reached for Benn's neck, and Benn locked a part of himself away, making sure he wasn't thinking, wasn't feeling, wasn't really there. He just needed to function, though he never had experienced a man touching him right here in the auction house. Well, there was a first time for everything.
It nearly knocked him over when Shanks lifted the necklace without touching him. The Yonko's expression shifted from concern to a mild aggression, though so very subtle that Benn was sure none of the others was even aware of the killing intent that flooded through the Yonko's veins. He was equally surprised that the redhead took extra care in not touching his skin at all. As if he knew that each time someone claimed Benn's body, it killed him a little more.
"This normally doesn't happen," Shanks mumbled, his eyes fixed on the burned flesh underneath the necklace. Benn's neck was scarred, and he would always wear a mark, even if he could someday get rid of this thing. For his entire life as a slave, the scars had been hidden under the necklace, which was why he was praised as unmarred and whole. He knew he was the only one whose necklace burned its way through his skin, leaving a scar for each new master. He had had a lot of different masters during his life and not even a handful knew. Shanks had found out the moment he wore the ring. As if he had felt the pain himself.
"With others, no, it normally doesn't. With me, 'normal' doesn't apply," Benn answered, his voice low so only Shanks could hear him, and ringing with an edge of sarcasm. He didn't really know why, Benn just knew people normally didn't care.
Shanks, however, didn't react to his comment but whispered silent words. They were so soft-spoken Benn needed a while to realize it was a seal, the form of magic people used in this world. Seals were words, and those words carried power. When Shanks let go of the necklace, Benn prepared for the pain the metal would cause on the fresh wound, but he didn't feel anything.
The shock must have been visible on his face for a single moment before he had himself under control again. But Shanks had recognized it. The seal prevented the necklace from touching his skin and again Benn wondered why the Yonko even cared. But he did, and as Benn locked eyes with him, Shanks' gaze said everything.
"Being 'normal' is overrated anyway," Shanks whispered, before he backed away and turned. Benn knew his new master's face was as indifferent as before, even though he couldn't see it. When Shanks declared they were finished and would leave, Benn still wondered why this man was so different from all the other masters he had ever had.
Shanks turned and looked at Yasopp and Roo, who regarded him with concern. They had seen the shift in his mood, even though he was sure they could only assume half of what was really bothering him. The moment Benn had looked at him Shanks knew the man was something else. There was power and grace and kindness, but also stubbornness and hidden pain. Benn was no normal slave; he was strong enough to be king, if it weren't for the necklace around his throat.
"Get the people out of here. Make sure they are treated kindly, maybe let the women take care of the children. They surely are afraid. We will move in the morning," Shanks ordered, but his thoughts were with Benn. The rest of the procedure was routine, but Shanks had other issues to take care of. This ring around his finger gave him power he didn't want. He had to seal it and someone else had to do it, so he could never, not even accidentally, harm Benn.
The rush of power the ring had granted him the second he had slipped it on his finger still frightened Shanks. The hidden magic in this piece of jewelry ensured that a slave could never be stronger than his master. It blocked the main part of the power flow in the enslaved and led it to the one who owned. Nevertheless, the ring, as Shanks knew, only channeled as much magic as the wearer of the ring could handle. Shanks could handle plenty of magical power, but he still couldn't be sure if the ring wasn't blocking some of Benn's power for him.
"You're coming with me," Shanks said, as he turned to Benn. It hurt him physically to see a man like him enslaved. The way Benn locked all feelings away just didn't sit well with him and when he had searched for the other man's permission to touch him, Shanks realized Benn wasn't believing he had the right to demand or refuse anything because he was a slave. Shanks would make sure to change that. He would make sure Benn wouldn't be a slave any longer, but become the man he could be.
For now, though, he needed to find Doc, and he needed the doctor to tend Benn's wound. The necklace bothered Shanks. He had never heard of a necklace that burned the slave's skin. The fresh wound had looked awfully painful, and Benn's words still rang in Shanks' ears. 'Normal' wasn't applying to him… How often had the man had to endure it? What kind of necklace was it that he wore? Shanks hadn't looked at the seal yet, but he already guessed it wouldn't be a common one. Even the ring wasn't feeling like a normal one. Subtle differences, but still, they were there.
Shanks moved without showing much care whether Benn followed him. He was lost in thought, but when he reached the entrance he turned around to look at his new companion. The sight caused Shanks to slightly step back. When he had first spotted Benn, he had been impressed that the man hadn't looked away. There had been something different in his eyes, in his face and expressions. While Shanks had spoken with him, he had been fixated on the low words, the strange feeling of closeness, but now, now Shanks was able to really look at Benn and the sight took his breath away. Long, black hair like silk framed an edgy but handsome face. His eyes were gray and mysterious, his lips a natural red that people would want to kiss, and his stature was broad, strong and invited to lean against it .
It took all of Shanks' willpower to force himself to look away. He understood why people had wanted Benn in their houses, in their beds, as their slave, and the thought made Shanks incredibly sad. Benn was beautiful and all he would ever see when he looked in the mirror was a body others tried to own. Shanks would never touch him without consent. He would never kiss him, even though for just a short moment, it had been everything he'd wanted to do. But Shanks would only take what was given to him freely. He doubted Benn would ever give himself freely. There had been too much damage done to his soul.
With swift fingers, Shanks loosened the scarf he wore around his waist and slung it around Benn's neck to cover the necklace. He made sure not to touch Benn, but he could feel how the other man tensed, even though he tried to hide it, and he hid it well. Their eyes met and Shanks could see surprise in Benn and again it made Shanks sad. The man had endured so much pain that he couldn't believe in the smallest kindness.
"Let's go, I want you to see a doctor." Shanks smirked bitterly, before he led Benn outside. He somehow had the feeling that with each step his life would change now. For better or for worse, he wasn't really sure.