Chapter 1

It had been a cold winter. Spring was nearing, it was easy to find the signs if you were looking, but for so many it wasn't as visible.

Arthur Kirkland had been the librarian of a small village for a good three years. It wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but he could read as much as he wanted, and it never seemed to dull him. Most people showed up and asked about a book before just sliding back into the background, never to be seen again, book or not. He knew a good portion of the library's books had gone missing, people coming through and borrowing before moving on, but he honestly just didn't care at this point.

It wasn't his job to keep the library full, just staffed, which he did well. Half of the time he could be found reading the tomes, his eyes wide in a book of faeries and fantasy, while sometimes it would be books about the world. There weren't too many books left in the area, so honestly he hoped to start writing before the library ran completely out. He loved the idea of writing a book, to press the paper and laugh as you explained the purple dye on your fingers over tea. Something about the thought of devoting so much effort and time into a book just made his heart light.

"Pardon, Arthur?" One of the regulars, a girl he expected to end out working where he was right now in ten years looked up with a smile. "Has my book come in yet?"

"It has, actually." He smiled as he turned and pulled the book for her. She wasn't very old, but she took better care of the leather cases and soft paper than most of the adults. Sometimes he'd notice she'd even oil the spines, saving the books from falling apart. He did his best, cleaning and polishing the books as he was able, but so often he just didn't have the money for the oil anymore. The library, due to the people who ran away with the books, was in steady decline. "Here, Samanthe. You can keep it, alright?" He spoke softly to her and her eyes widened.

"Really?!" She asked, nearly starstruck with excitement. "It's so pretty! Thank you ever so much!" She grinned and Arthur shook his head, patting her softly on the shoulder.

"It's only ever borrowed by you, and we got another copy in. It was just finished, so I decided to let you keep the old one.

"Thank you!" She grinned, tears in her eyes as she turned and ran, the happiest he'd ever seen her.

She was one of the nuns in training at the monastery up the street. Abandoned as a child, they had no choice but to stay as a nun til they were old enough to leave, or accept and take the habit.

He knew all too well the way those places worked. It had only been three years since he'd turned thirteen, old enough to get a job and keep himself steady. He'd lucked out with the librarian moving away right then. When they asked him if he'd dawn the cloak, become a priest for the church, he didn't even remember to answer, he'd ran so fast.

He had a small home, one room with a soft bed and comfortable chair near the window for reading. That was all he needed. He looked over at the window, knowing it was getting later, but he knew, when the light touched the second book shelf he was closed for the night. He watched the wall.

"Five, Four-" The shadow jumped back and Arthur stared, his eyes narrowing before he looked out the window, but nothing seemed off. He turned back, seeing the shadow hit the shelf and sighed with a smile before snuffing the one candle. He turned and walked from the place with a smile, making sure the lock was steadfast on the door before he turned and started down the cobble road. A few horses rushed passed, something he wasn't used to, but Arthur watched before turning to see where they were coming from. A few more rushed down and he noticed an injury. His eyes shifted up over the hill he'd just been walking down before he noticed the blackening of the sky. Smoke seemed to reach from horizon to horizon as he rushed up, looking to see ships resting amongst the backing of the ocean.

"No..." He realized it was an attack and shook his head.

He needed to rush to the church. They could at least attempt to protect the children. He ran, out of breath by the time he reached the stone building. He rushed up and banged at the gate, a nun yelling from within.

"They haven't made it in yet?" He called and the woman slid the door open, just allowing him in. "I didn't see anyone else on the roadway. It seemed everyone rushed to the shore, but very few seemed to make it back. Are the priests upstairs with the children?" He asked and the nun turned to him, her hands shaking, her eyes wide.

"They abandoned us. They said god would forgive them this trespass, as we were all only sinners anyway. They left us to die!" She panicked and Arthur sighed, looking at the door.

"Chain this well. No one else is coming through. Are the children at least upstairs?"

"Yes." She swallowed hard before chaining the door, a giant lock holding the door into place, Arthur grasped her hand and ran up the stairs. She looked confused as he ran to the children's room and stilled, looking at him for a moment before realization dawned on her.

"Here at the end, when we're about to die, you finally returned to my side, Arthur. You were always one of the best students." She smiled, her hands shaking as she reached out and grasped his hand, looking him in the eyes.

His blond hair cascaded, the reds from the fire outside now reflecting, his pale skin and hair seemed orange in the light, while his eyes still struck out at the feeling of green grass.

"I always read pornographic materials, sister. Be thankful I didn't become a priest." He grinned, trying to at least add a little humor to the stress of the wait.

"I know at least three of the priests who were here wrote it. I still think you would have been a great priest." She whispered.

"If we survive the night, we'll have survived the battle. If we make it, I'll join if it'll make you happy, Sister." He smiled at her and she nodded, stepping back. They heard the heavy chains of the front door yank. A hard crashing sound repeated and it was only a few moments til the crash sounded different and Arthur knew. The door had given in. "Go hide under a bed, quickly." He shoved her into the children's room before closing the door and backed away, his eyes wide at the man who came up the stairs.

"Please, it's just myself and the orphans. They're young. Please let them be." Arthur asked softly, hoping they would grant compassion as the man reached out and grasped his arm, yanking Arthur forward.

"You're the ugliest woman I've ever seen." The man grumbled out and Arthur stared in shock for a moment.

"I'm a man!" His face tinted red in embarrassment.

"You're the least masculine man I've ever met." He grumbled and Arthur sighed.

"I apologize for my appearance. Please leave the children in peace." He asked softly and the man frowned, thinking.

"How many children?"

"I don't know." Arthur stared. "Nearly a dozen, I believe. I could be quite a few off." He stared as the man grinned.

"I'll spare the children, but instead I get you."

"So if I let you kill me, you'll spare the children?" Arthur asked and the man shook his head.

"No, you misunderstood. I get to keep you." He grinned and Arthur realized the meaning behind his words a second too late. As the hilt of a sword was brought to his head, Arthur fell into oblivion.

He woke on a ship. He could feel the rock and pull of the waves, an oddly comforting and familiar feeling. His eyes opened and he looked around, half expecting to be below deck, probably surrounded with mold and half drowned. He found himself on a plush lounge, pillows shoved behind his head. His wrists and ankles hurt from the shackles that cut into his skin, but he had honestly expected worse. He looked down, seeing the green tartan he normally wore for his city gone, replaced with a white sack.

"Pardon." He sat up, seeing the man who had taken him glance up from papers that were littered across the desk. His eyes watched with interest as Arthur wiggled himself into a more comfortable position. "Can I please get a drink of water?"

"At least you have manners here." The man sighed and stood, walking to a barrel at the side of the room, making Arthur curious. He gripped a mug and brought it over, holding it up to his mouth, and Arthur tried to drink fast, before it spilled, though he didn't quite make it and a few errant drops flowed down his chin.

"What do you mean, 'here'?" Arthur asked softly, taking in the look of the man before him. Arthur's head only came up to about his chest. Ash blond hair hung down softly around a cherub like face, though it could easily be seen now that his body was nearly void of fat. He was solid muscle.

He'd never felt that slavery was even an issue anymore, and here he was, now being shipped across the sea with a man who he was starting to wonder if he'd even allow him to live. Something in those violet eyes that stared back at him brought a shiver to him, and though it was warm, Arthur felt a chill in the air. "We didn't have shackles on you originally. We tried to be kind, but as you fell asleep you started to move. I've seen walking while asleep before, but never with words."

"Words?" Arthur asked, paling as he stared.

He looked furious. "I'd never been told before that since I believe in slavery I should throw myself to the bottom of the ocean and let all of the problems I've created fix themselves." He stared and Arthur swallowed harshly. "Or even better. As the sort of barbarian that would decimate a village for nothing more than pure amusement, I'm probably prone to communication through grunts, and flinging my own 'shite', I believe were the words." He watched and Arthur just stared, blinking and half hoping when his eyes opened it would have been some sort of hallucination.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it..." He nearly whispered. He knew what this meant. He understood he was a slave now, and honestly he wasn't worried about it as much, knowing it meant the children were spared.

It was a worthy exchange, in his opinion, but that also meant for words like these, he was fully deserving of retribution. He clenched his eyes, holding his head down.

"I won't punish you for words you spoke out in your sleep. Sleepwalking and such are beyond your control, but I will wonder what made those words come from your mouth. Such a vulgarity from such a little priest."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't a priest." He spoke, hoping he wouldn't change his mind and go back to kill the kids. "When the attack started, I knew that they might need help. The priests, as it turned out, were too cowardly to stay. That's why I was there. I was raised in that church, but I wasn't a priest."

"So you're a child?" He asked, pulling up a chair and Arthur shook his head.

"I librarian. When the library closed I saw the smoke. I might not live at the church any more, but I couldn't just run home and hide alone when the children might be saved. When I was a child, it would have meant the world to me if someone had stepped up to save us on any of the occasions we fell under trouble." He spoke softly and the man frowned.

"We killed all of those priests off, just so you know." The man before him grinned, a bloodthirst glaring back that caused Arthur's breathing to catch. "It was their fault you were attacked anyway. They raided one of our villages, killed off everyone, women, children, they didn't care. They killed and robbed. When help was able to get there, it was too late. Nearly everyone was dead." He stared, almost looking to be in shock. Arthur watched, curious and frightened.

"Was there anyone you knew?" Arthur asked softly and the man's eyes stilled, settling like lead weights on him.

"My mother. That was the day I was born. They didn't think I'd survive and abandoned me on the floor as a newborn, wallowing in my mother's blood." He stared and Arthur swallowed hard.

"The... church did that?" Arthur asked, now almost more terrified of where he'd come from than where he was going.

"Many times, to many places. If you found yourself attacked while with the church many times, this would be why. Their idea of charity work was to kill those who refused their teachings, who refused to pay money to their god. It didn't make sense to my parents. Good behavior brings good behavior. If you want the world to smile, then smile yourself and spread the joy! Then to have this church, which spoke of love and compassion come to kill everyone-" He stood and turned, slamming his fist against the wall while Arthur whimpered, edging away. "I only agreed to take you because I thought you were one of them. You seemed different from them, so I was curious, but now I see. It was a mistake." He stepped forward, grasping the shackles and lifted Arthur.

"Please, don't kill me..." Arthur whimpered. "I understand you're angry at them, but I'm not one of them. I'm an innocent, just like you, so please, don't kill me!" Arthur sobbed out as the man pulled him out to the sunshine of the hull. The words he spoke made the man still and he sighed, stopping right at the railing. Arthur looked down, terrified of the water below. He might have been able to swim, but with the shackles, and the fact that they were solid iron, he knew he'd sink right to the bottom.

"Will you serve me well, slave? Will you do as I command and prove your loyalty in any way I deem appropriate?" He asked and Arthur nodded.

"I will." He spoke softly, feeling like admitting to this, actually saying it out loud was softly clasping chains around his heart. "I will do as Master asks of me. I will make sure you are served well, Master." Arthur spoke in a soft tone, but they were both able to see the terror and tears in his eyes as he spoke the words that decided his fate.

He didn't even fight for his freedom, he just rolled over and played dead, but he knew if he didn't it was death.

"I am Ivan Braginsky. Now that you know the name of your master, what is the name of my slave?" He asked and Arthur, as he was settled standing, looked up with wide eyes. Was this monster taller than he'd thought? He was inhumanly tall.

"I am Arthur Kirkland, Master." He spoke softly. His eyes shifted down, feeling his heart shake in his chest, his lungs waver in the want to sob, but he knew that wouldn't be for the best right now.

"Arthur Braginsky-Kirkland. The master's name comes first." Ivan corrected and Arthur frowned.

"Please, master, pardon if it takes me a while to say properly. Your name is a bit... difficult for me." He looked up and Ivan nodded.

"Ee-vahn, Brah-gin-skee." Ivan spoke slowly and Arthur stared before paling.

"Yvonne?!" He stared. It was one of the most feminine names he'd ever heard, and this big burly man-

Oh hell, this wasn't a woman, right? No wonder he was kept when he said he was a man! No other man would stick around with a woman this size!

"Nyet, There is no 'J'. Ee-vahn. In your spelling it would be I.V.A.N. Ivan."

"We would pronounce that name Eye-vin." Arthur stared, confused. "And why a 'J'?"

The two stared at each other for a second before realizing this was going to take a lot of work. "You promise to try your best, correct, Arthur?"

"Yes, Master. This seems to be something that actually really could catch my interest. I've always loved learning, and it seems just adapting to the culture and language should give me much to learn." He looked up, at least trying to see this in a positive light, and if nothing else he had to admit, everything he just said was true.

"Just don't become so distracted you forget who you belong to." Ivan stared and Arthur swallowed hard before nodding.