A/N: Hey there anyone who reads this! I have finally decided that I should probably update this thing. Now then, this is just a little chapter, but it explains some more about Zexion, gives you a bit more about the life he really lives there, and also gives you hints at others stories that will be told. It will also probably give you more questions than answers. However! I think I did that purposely. Eheh. So, I hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts (II, CoM) Characters belong to Square Enix.


He remembered meeting the man he wanted to be bought by.

He was tall, lanky, with a grin that spoke of mischievous things. He looked fun, and really friendly, uninterested in what all the other buyers were interested in. He had learned what 'bed warmer' had meant when he was pulled out in front of people three more times, all male, looking at him like a piece of meat. The talk between the buyers and the gnarled seller helped, too.

When he had been dragged in front of the redhead, he fell to his knees. The old man had pushed him forward and he had been growing weaker every day as he refused to eat. He thought maybe if he was too thin, nobody would buy him. When he landed, he hissed under his breath, and the man in front of him went up to the stage he was placed on for the showing, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at him with wide eyes.

Blue eyes, light and almost green, looked at him with worry and kindness. He looked concerned. 'Hey they, kiddo. You okay?'

He stared at him with wide eyes. Why was he talking to him?

'Hey, old man! What's with the malnourished look to him! I thought you said you made sure they were well fed.'

His voice sounded angry, but not at him. No…He was angry at the seller.

'I feed 'em every day, sir,' the old man rasped. The red haired man looked at him then, squeezing his shoulder with a smile.

'That true?'

Slowly, he looked up at him. He wanted to lie so he wouldn't get hurt, but he wanted to tell the truth, too. He didn't say anything, and the redhead frowned a little.

'How much is he?'

His eyes widened in surprise.

'Eh?' the old man sounded confused for a minute before thinking. 'Ehh…20 rupees.'

The redhead raised his eyebrows.

'Expensive little guy, aren't you?' he asked the boy, smiling at him before turning to look at the gnarled man again. 'I'll pay 15.'

'20.'

'15 rupees and two gold bars. You know how rare gold bars are.'

There was a pause, before the man scowled.

'You're bluffing.'

'Am I?'

Another silence, before he looked over to see the gnarled man seriously considering. He then sighed, looking at the redhead with regretful eyes. Not because he was selling his prettiest boy, though.

'Sorry, sir. He's on hold.'


Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Looking around, he saw that the room was empty, and he sighed slowly sitting up. He hissed as a pain shot through his back, wincing before ignoring it and slipping out of the silk covered bed. He looked around the luxurious room for a moment before picking up and tying his long garment around his waist, brushing back his hair. The room was immaculate; the General had cleaned up before he'd left. He glanced uncaringly around the room for a note, noted that there wasn't one then left. Walking down the halls, he bowed his head passing the soldiers. They stared at him, trying to see his face and wondering why he was there in the first place. They all wondered why he was down here on the odd day, but he never told them. They could order him, but he was not allowed to say a thing. The General ordered his silence, and he followed the General.

Quickly leaving the soldier quarters, he walked down the halls with the courtiers and servants. Even the servants stared at him as if he was dirt, but he was a slave and that was normal. He was a slave, and he had to accept that he was dirt. He was lower than dirt.

He was the worms.

He entered the servant/slave halls, walking with his head raised again. No one spoke to him as he walked; none asked why he walked with a limp, why his hair was in tangles, why he had bruises developing on his sides and shoulders. They knew better by now than to ask him those questions. He wouldn't say. He was sworn to silence.

Turning a corner, he paused, watching with curious eyes as Lady Aerith, the princes' music teacher, spoke quietly to Cid. Cid looked around, catching sight of him, before pointing at him and Lady Aerith looked over. Her eyes brightened as she caught sight of him and she smiled, mouthing out some sort thanks before marching over to him. He nodded his head in respect as she neared him, eyes lowered to the ground. "M'lady,"

"Zexion," she spoke clearly yet kindly. He looked at her feet, waiting for her to continue. "The Queen wishes for you to come with her for a moment. I think she wants to show you something…"

"My Queen does?" Zexion asked, looking up to her shoulder curiously. He saw the woman's brown hair bob as she nodded, before her slim hand took hold of his equally slim wrist, dragging him behind her as she turned back to the halls he'd just left. She let go of him after a while, assured he wasn't going to try and bolt as she led him up stair cases. He glanced around to get a bearing of where he was, noting that he was nearing the Queen's private wing that even the King didn't go near when he was home. Aerith then stopped in front of a large set of double doors, stepping aside. "Go in. She's expecting you. I've got to hurry and find Prince Cloud before he disappears somewhere and avoids my lesson!"

"Might I suggest, m'lady, that you try the third Gardens?"

"Hmm…You may. Thank you Zexion." He guessed she smiled—he could hear it in her voice—before she walked away. He stood for a moment awkwardly, before pushing the doors opened and walking in. He glanced up to see where he was and his stomach plummeted. Of course. Of course the Queen would want him to come to these rooms so that she could confide to him as she always did. He was the only one she confided to. He was the only one she deemed safe enough to keep her secrets, as he was sworn to silence.

Taking in a quiet breath, Zexion walked to the Queen's side, kneeling down and bowing his head respectfully. There was a silence for a moment, before a cream-coloured hand, slim and regal, touched his shoulder to show he was acknowledged. He lifted his head then, staring at the line-up of young men as they stood quietly, ready to be inspected.

"These are my new…companions," she said, her voice low and soothing, though there were times when she could sound cruel and callous. He didn't often concentrate on those memories. He nodded to show he heard her and she continued. "I don't need so many right now, so I thought it only appropriate that I should find you, so that you can help me decide which ones would be best suited to staying." She touched his head, indicating he could stand and he did so slowly, keeping his eyes lowered. "Well? Your thoughts?"

"Your Majesty, I do not know if I would be the right person to turn to when it comes to whom you choose as your lovers. I am a simple slave, bound to serve you loyally and silently." He paused, biting his lip and the Queen made a noise for him to continue. "I do not think I have the right…qualifications to help you choose whom you wish to warm your bed."

"Well, that's silly isn't it?" The Queen laughed, touching Zexion's cheek and his grey eyes briefly flicked over her face, showing light blonde hair that her son's shared and wicked green eyes that he hated looking into on his worst days. He lowered his gaze again as she spoke. "Zexion, you were chosen because you make a wonderful bed warmer. Exactly what these young men will do. You know what I like and I do not. You know exactly what I like and do not like." She paused and he waited. "You also know what the General enjoys. I trust you to choose wisely. I leave you to this task. You have two hours to work. I will send a servant to come get you when your time is done." She then smiled—he could see some of it from the corner of his eye—before she turned and left. The two servants she had with her followed her silently, looking at Zexion as if he were something dirty and foul. He thought himself dirty and foul, too.

Sighing once the doors closed, he lifted his head, turning to look at the young men as they stood there, shuffling their feet and looking at the ground nervously. They were positioned in a line much like slaves, which made his stomach clench uncomfortably, before he sighed again, placing a hand on his hip and cocking his head at them. "Please don't look so nervous. Nothing about what I was requested to do will make you uncomfortable. You are free to speak to me, insult me, and talk amongst yourselves. You are not slaves like me." He frowned, watching as they slowly started to relax. "Alright…I suppose we'll begin if you're ready."

Smoothing out his garment, he walked forwards towards the end of the line were a sullen blonde stood, his lip protruding in a pout. Before he reached him, though, he was stopped by a painfully familiar voice.

Turning quickly, his eyes widened as he saw the form of a well muscled brunet with a scar that ran between his eyes, veering to the left as if someone had taken a sword to his face. He remembered when Leon had gotten that scar very strongly, as it had been the day he had met the young soldier-in-training.

Suddenly he knew the true reason why the Queen wanted him to look over these new potential lovers. It was because she knew that he would find Leon.

The Queen was truly cruel.

"I see you haven't changed too much, Zexion. Though, I think you've gotten thinner. Have you been eating?" The brunet raised an eyebrow questionably, his grey-green eyes staring into him as if he were judging his soul. Turning his path towards the male, he walked to him and stopped in front of him, lowering his head slightly in the respect that he couldn't quite shake. Leon laughed then. "Zexion, I'm not more than a sex slave now. No need to bow your head to me."

"My Queen does not take sex slaves. She takes companions. Unlike sex slaves, you are never seen, but you are also treated with higher respect." Zexion smiled slightly though, feeling slightly more comfortable. Leon had been very easy to talk to from when he had been training to be a soldier, someone he had appreciated seeing every day when he walked through the soldier's quarters as he would walk out with him, talking to him and making less of the soldiers stare at him in curiousity. Since his sudden departure, though, Zexion's life had been made slightly more complicated. "It is good to see you, Leon. Though under these circumstances, it makes me wonder…"

"The Queen didn't send me off to the West like she had threatened," Leon answered, brutally honest and cynical. "She had me sent to the South, where a slave seller stayed and kept me. He made sure that I was well fed, kept in shape and that I knew of the plans the Queen had had for me." Leon smiled bitterly then, and Zexion recognized the look in his eyes as the one he himself had held for many months after his first 'encounter'. He frowned a bit as Leon looked away, shifting his feet nervously for a moment before looking at Zexion again. "…How is the prince?" he asked meekly then, looking at him with the look of someone who was afraid of the answer.

"He has turned…quiet. He becomes very involved in the exercises the soldiers go through, and is anxious for the King's return to the capital." Zexion looked at him quietly, sighing and smiling sadly. "Though…Though he does at times speak to me, in the promise that I will keep what I hear in secrecy." Leon nodded, lowering his eyes. Zexion hesitated then touched his wrist quietly. Leon looked at him curiously. "He misses you."

Leon looked surprised for a moment, before smiling slightly. "I'm glad," he said then, sounding it. "Though I wish he wouldn't." He then shook his head, waving his arm to the boys around him. "You've only got two hours for this. You might as well get started with me right. Shall I stand still like a horse then?"

Zexion frowned, lowered his eyes and didn't say anything. The laugh that Leon gave then was hollow and bitter.


He remembered very clearly when he had first met Her.

The gnarled old man had seemed nervous, fidgety even as he swept through the cage of boys remaining, plucking a few of them and bringing them out onto that hot, hated stage to be ogled at like cattle or goods for sale. That was all they were, really. Cattle. Goods. Not people. He had learned not to call himself a person a long time ago.

When the gnarled man returned with three boys out of the eight he had taken out, he had thought that that was it for the day. So when the man turned to him and indicated with a nervous jerk of his knobbly hands that he was to follow him, he grew cold. The gnarled man had not touched him since the second visit of the rich Northerner that was friends with the Southern Queen. The Northerner had snapped at the gnarled old man that his 'pretty-face' was bruised, and that would not do for the Southern Queen to see if he wanted the boy to be bought by her.

'Stand there, slave, and dun' ye dare look at who's lookin' ye over,' the gnarled man hissed, his harsh rasp sounding nervous and scared witless. He just nodded, staring down at his toes as he felt eyes staring him over. He had been force fed after the visit from the red haired man, the gnarled man yelling at him for not eating the food he was so graciously given. He hadn't wanted to be yelled at again or to be shaken like he had been. It had not been a pleasant experience.

'This is the boy that my dear General says would suit me?' His senses were shocked by the deep, soothing voice that washed over him; female, with a sense of royal worth and great importance. He knew then that this was the Southern Queen, as 'the General' was the silver haired Northerner. 'He seems…young. Though much more fit than what my General told me last what he looked like. How old?'

'He passed his eighth solar cycle just last frost,' the gnarled man answered quickly, his hands fiddling around knobbly knuckles. The Queen made a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat, a deep, husky sound that reminded him of his grandmother in some ways.

'Yes…Young, but most likely very able.' There was an amused tone to her voice. Soft, whispering footsteps were heard then, and a cream-coloured, slim-fingered hand touched his chin, making him raise his face. He closed his eyes quickly, not wanting the gnarled man to be angry at him for looking at such an important customer. 'Shy little thing, aren't you? There now, dear, look at me. That's an order. Yes, there's a sweet pea…' He opened his eyes slowly, looking into wicked green eyes that momentarily shocked him. A shock of blonde hair then came to view, and he was looking into the most beautiful woman in the world's smiling features. 'Now then. What's your name, sweetling?'

'…Zexion, my lady.' She smiled at him, stroking his cheek.

'Alright, Zexion. Do you know who I am?'

'…the Queen, my lady.'

'Yes, dear, very good.' She smiled again, running her fingers down his neck to his shoulder, her eyes contemplating as she looked at his smooth, pale skin. 'Mmmm…so, that means you have to call me 'Your Majesty', is that alright? 'My lady' is for the lower ranked court ladies.' She looked at him, her wicked eyes boring this information into his mind. 'Keep this in mind, my dear. Else you could have your tongue cut out.'

She then turned to the seller, pulling Zexion off the stage and tucking his naked form to her side, where his skin felt smooth silks and smelled strong, beautiful fragrances. 'I will buy him. How much?'

'20 rupees, Majesty,' the seller rasped and the Queen scoffed, indicating to someone to pay. A man dressed in what seemed to be a drape, looped around his shoulder and around his waist stepped forward, giving over 25 glittering red, green and yellow gems. 'Majesty…This is nearly' one 'undred!'

'Yes, because I have found such a beautiful find.' She looked down at Zexion, who stared at her with wide eyes and smoothed his cheek again. 'The most beautiful slave in the kingdom must be mine you know…yes…You will grow into a most appropriate bed warmer for me.' She then turned to the man in the sheet, nodding to him. 'Let us go, then. My lord will want us home in time to sup.'

Zexion followed his new master, stumbling and wondering what had just happened and if his life would improve at all.


He startled awake, looking around to notice that he was lying in an extravagant bed, smelling strongly of perfumes and covered in silks. He sighed, knowing then that he was in the Queen's bedchambers. He vaguely recalled being brought to her after finding her new consorts, where she then led him to the bedchambers that she had for herself when her husband was not home. He then also vaguely remembered being ordered to rest there while the Queen went about doing her usual business in the Market Place and visiting other notable royals around the palace. He sighed, rolling over and curling up to his side, burying his face in his hands. At that moment, he felt as dirty and disgusting and foul and low as he was always looked down upon. He deserved the stares, the whispers and the sneers directed his ways.

Then, suddenly feeling acid in his mouth, he bolted from the silk sheets to the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach. He felt sick with himself, as if he could just throw up all the bad and the horrible and the dirt that he was as he remembered turning to Leon after examining all of the consorts, whispering that he was one of them before leaving the room to be embraced the Queen.

He had sold his prince's love…he had given him over to his hateful mother who had threatened to kill him the day she had walked in on them in the bed of lilies in the Third Garden, a year or so ago. He had sold Leon to the Queen, unable to set him free as they had both known his fate once he had entered the castle.

He had sold him, unable to tell the prince anything at all.

As he was sworn to silence.