Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of FFVII, FFVIII or Kingdom Hearts.
"Where are we going?" The young blond was growing steadily more uneasy; being lead blindfolded anywhere was not generally on his list of the most secure activities to be undertaking. Let alone the fact that Zack wouldn't be best choice for a leader.
"Well," the black-haired royal started "It's your twenty-first tomorrow and it is a traditional for you to get your first personal slave. So…" Zack pulled the silk blindfold from his younger brother's eyes as they struggled to adjust their sky-blue brilliance to the slight gloom of the entrance hall, "I arranged for you to have the first choice of the new stock from that country that we just conquered, the conquest that Lord Sephiroth headed."
Cloud regarded his brother King with a thankful smile, and teasingly replied, "You are kind to me, your highness."
Zack rolled his eyes but scruffled Cloud's messy blond spikes, "I may be your king but I'm your brother first."
And didn't the whole kingdom know that. Zack may have bee a brave, noble and fair King; perfectly trained to the position with his vibrant outgoing personality and charisma which had won over the hearts of the people, but they all knew all of his loose protocol when it came to his three younger brothers. Some praised it and said it gave him a more human side, yet others looked upon it with disapproval. Their judgmental eyes, however, though their stares burned did not have the smallest of effect on Zack who strode confidently through criticism; often winning the objectors over with his over whelming charm.
"Anyway" Zack continued, not pausing toilet his brother reply "This is the second or maybe the third wave of slaves and from what I've heard its good stock." He casually waved a slave master over, who was wearing his best for the visit of the Royal party (because neither Zack nor Cloud seemed to ever be able to travel without a constant guard) all in Arabian silks in hues of grey and black around his surprisingly fit form. "And these are the best, the ones who resisted the most, the strongest and fairest. Isn't that right Marluxia? We'll have a look at that group first."
"Yes milord, I'll let the Superior know right away," the pink haired man said bowing respectfully to Zack. "The prizes of our collection, this way, please your highness."
They were lead down one of the anaemic white bleached halls, cold, uncaring and indistinguishable from its fellows. In the modern sharpness their clothes looked almost alien- such was their culture advanced in technology but keeping the old beautiful architecture of their palaces and dress, and the ancient monarchy social system.
On a whole the Prince did not agree with the whole idea of the slave trade, not that he could make that known even to his brother or he would bear much to loose. It was inhumane in a way how these people, equals to any of them, were treated. Apart from being particularly kind to the palace staff there was no way to fight the widespread oppression, no matter his position. He knew in getting a personal slave he would have to 'break it in' whether he liked it or not.
The blond dreaded that.
In order to pull such a thing off he would have to practice complete detachment.
Marluxia lead them into a large spacious room, differing only from the other rooms because of its solid volcanic stone floor which stood out so predominantly black in comparison to the bright white. A dozen or so chambers were arranged around the walls, like domed bubbles to someone who knew better however they could be recognized as stasis chambers. Holding cells designed to keep the inhabitants in a harmless deep sleep so they could be observed without any danger to the viewer.
Cloud strolled down the rows, hesitating every once in a while to sneak a peek at the inhabitant of one or another cell, until his attention was diverted by one cell that was set slightly apart from the others on a dais in the farthest recesses of the room.
He brushed his fingers of the inscription at the base:
'Squall Leonheart
SeeD Commander and Sorceress' Knight
Age: 18
Captured by: Lord Sephiroth Jenova...'
The next part did not nearly interest him as much, a list of dates including one of capture which was under a week beforehand. The blond barely knew what it meant by 'Sorceress Knight' but the very idea was intriguing so h stepped closer to get a better look at the slumbering Commander Leonheart.
Inside laid a face not that far younger than his, peaceful in rest, pale velvet skin and hair that was the colour of chocolate which framed an almost delicate face only marred by a scar that passed from one eye over the man's nose. Strangely though it hardly detracted from the brunet's appearance but making him look almost exotic as it divided his features. He looked stunningly handsome even dressed in the bland slave clothing, which hung drab over his wiry yet well built figure.
He was perfect.
The head slave master, a man by the name of Xemnas must have noticed the way the Prince hovered over the case almost possessively, for he approached quickly a cheap smile on his face.
"Good choice your highness, he is truly the diamond of our collection, Squall Leonheart," he beckoned Marluxia to come over with a case almost automatically which he passed to Xemnas with a flourish. "This contains the man's file, and most personal affects, such as his weapon."
There was no way the Prince could resist this one prying the chest open eagerly to reveal a polished silver sword, far shorter and lighter than the weapon he used but made unique by the gun that was crafted into it. He ran one finger lightly down the side to pick up another object of the same cold metal beside it. An ornate pendant on a heavy chain, shaped as what he recognized to be a lion's head with a matching ring. The ring it seemed was not worn on the man's finger but was strung on a delicate chain with a simpler ring of silver. There was also a file contained within in what facts they had on the slave, his origins, history and accomplishments. A lot of which Xemnas proudly stated they had been able to scavenge from the very well kept records of the students of Garden.
Cloud looked up at his dark haired brother and smiled, it was all it took to get the request across.
"I think we'll take a look at him, as well as a couple of others."
"Good, I'll take him away so we can get him ready for inspection-"
"Wait," both men halted at the firm voice of the Prince, "Can I..." he pause momentarily, "Can you open the chamber for a moment."
Zack gave him a strange look but nodded tersely to the slave trader who looked equally puzzled but complied anyway, if not hesitantly, "If I open it he will begin to regain consciousness-"
"Open it."
"Yes, your highness. But I can only do so for a few minutes I meant to say." He bowed apologetically to the impatient blond prince.
With a shudder the stasis chamber began to open revealing the man within lifting the glass that had hindered the colours of his visage, the deep brown of his hair- bending down to touch the man.
Squall strained his stasis somnolent eyes, trying to comprehend the foggy shape that took up the majority of his impaired vision which was still trying to wake up from the state in which he had been forced into. A hand, supposedly from the figure, softly made its way through his hair in an almost reassuringly affectionate way. The brunet's storm coloured eyes struggled to focus on the hand's owner but only caught a blur of blond hair and a pair of arresting sky-blue eyes, before they vanished.
The words that sounded around him were incomprehensible to his awakening wits, "You best hurry, highness, he is beginning to really reawaken, his memory may not begin to reassert itself for a few minutes, however-"
"You will-"
"He's all yours if you want him."
The eyes returned and what Squall felt was a distinct kiss press against his forehead and a hand that drifted over one cheekbone.
After that there was a forced pain in his arm and the SeeD commander sank back into unconsciousness, those blue orbs burned into the back of his eyes like some sort of omen. They were among the few things he would remember when he awoke in one of the anaemically white holding cells.
Eyes flicked open for the second time.
"Thank Shiva, he's awake" said a voice to his left, decidedly masculine as it pierced the stagnant air.
"… … Where are we?" Squall asked sitting up rather suddenly startling the two people before him who obviously thought he did not have the strength for such an energetic movement.
"Some sort of holding cell, obviously," a voice drawled. Seifer was standing lounging against a wall out of his rival's initial viewpoint an almost bored expression on his face. "It is obvious to some" he said pointedly, "we as 'slaves' are being 'bought'." The bitterness and distaste at the ideals that accompanied Seifer's words were one of the few universal views shared by the group. In their world, slavery was seen as inhumane, frowned upon and yet here, the country to which their world had been conquered by it was common practice. And they as the military force of the defeated nation had been informed that they were to be sold into such a market.
The cold cat-like green eyes of the man, who had defeated the SeeD commander, as he had fought to escape still haunted his thoughts, their malicious sneer all too easily remembered.
"What day is it?"
"I don't know how close our calendars are but here it's a Thursday" Selphie answered dutifully.
"But according to the guard last week, we aren't supposed to go..." he paused the word distasteful "…on sale, until Saturday"
"Priority showing," none of them had noticed the near invisible cell door open to assault the still lethargic brunet with another figure, this one distinctly unfamiliar. "The Royals are putting in a visit, and are automatically allowed to look at and buy any stock, regardless of sale dates"
"Who are you?" as the leader Squall took the forefront in addressing the stranger, a pretty dark haired woman who seemed to have managed to talk her way into the room. While she was well dressed, she had an air of a fighter that surrounded her which put him on his guard immediately.
"Tifa," she said amicably, "I'm on the palace staff and since the Royals are here and I know you guys have no idea about our world, I've taken it upon myself to help explain. It's confusing, I know."
Zell was the one who asked the question that lingered on all their minds, "You're a slave?" Selphie herself seemed slightly awed at her vibrant and healthy appearance which was so contrary to what they'd heard about the slave trade abusiveness.
"Yes, I'm not that far off you guys situation either, I was bought into the trade after our world was overtaken by Sephiroth's army. I knew no more than you do on how the system works and it turned out to be a major disadvantage."
She could feel a colder more critical eye upon her than the ones of Zell and Selphie and turned to see that stunning brunet man observing her, analysing every movement with x-ray eyes for danger and threat so very much like a leader does. Not willing to trust as fast as his friends were, not ready to jump into that confidence of her goodness. Even the silent blond man seemed more open to her presence than the scared brunet. But then again the older blond man seemed pretty neutral so she really could not count his 'support'; he seemed almost hesitant to go against their leader despite the obvious antagonism and rivalry between them.
Squall rose to his feet for the first time since Tifa had entered letting her see his full form, the proud lion radiated strength. "I can see why you are so prized."
"Prized?" he replied sceptically.
"In the world of slavery there are only a few things that get you places. The first is beauty and to a much lesser extent skill and strength also play a major part. You-"
"Leon." Squall clarified earning a roll of the eyes from his comrades who were still attesting the fact he refused to let himself be called Squall after their imprisonment, instead answering only to Leon.
"You have all of that from what I can see. A commander has leadership, skill in weaponry and strength. Not counting the fact you yourself young and exceptionally handsome, and by this alone you are worth a small fortune to any potential buyers."
Squall stared at her as if she was mad.
"Battle skills can get you a place in the military or special and protective forces," she began to count them off on her slender fingers "Any skill with magic can get you to be battle magicians or healers- but this skill can extend anywhere in the palace. However" she stopped on her ring finger pulling it down pointedly, "beauty gets you further, even in being a normal household slave there is a certain prestige in being good on the eyes. It unlocks the most strived after position of all, that of a personal slave. A personal slave belongs to one person and one only, under his or her command and possession only, to fulfil every and any wish they may have."
"Why would you want to be one then? And where does beauty come into it?"
Poor boy, Tifa sighed, he didn't get what she meant by anything, "A personal slave is most likely to form a friendship or even romantic relationship with their master, and get freed because of it. They can even go to the extent of marriage especially since here both homosexual and heterosexual relationships are equally recognized as legitimate and Royals have been known to marry slaves before. The King's great grandfather was a male slave. One of you might be lucky; the Prince is turning twenty-one tomorrow, the traditional age to get your first personal slave and he happens to be one of the royals who chose you lot."
Before anyone else could say a word the tattooed man jumped in for clarification "When you say anything you mean-"
"It includes sexual favours too. Its why being attractive is so critical," in this sentence never once did her eyes never leave the SeeD commander, a sad smile fixed on her face.
Squall felt a slight sinking feeling in is chest and could not help that when his words came out they came as a snap, "Are you suggesting-"
"Maybe I am," the brunette slave cut over him, "But that is not the point. If Prince Cloud does choose you, look after him because that man that captured you..."
Cat-like green eyes.
Silver hair.
Smothering.
Trapped.
'Did you really think you could escape me?'
Squall shook the memories from his mind.
"...Sephiroth. He has been pursuing Cloud for years and while it is treason to rape a person of Royalty, and I know Cloud would never agree to it, I am worried for him."
Indecipherable emotions ran strong hidden in stormy blue eyes as the brunet regarded her and her request, "In return for your kindness, we will try." The words were cold almost icy but she could tell the commander would not go back on them; he was a man of honour after all. A leader regardless of his comparatively young age.
"Thankyou." She turned to leave, pausing only at the door, "By the way, when the guards come to get you for inspection struggling will not help and neither does attacking or flinching at a prospective buyer." With a devious grin and sparkle in her brown eyes she swept out of sight.
Selphie who had been uncharacteristically quiet through much of the visit seemed disillusioned at Tifa's departure. "Must you call yourself Leon, Squall?"
The man in question sunk onto the bed on which he had woken, eyes glued to the ground, anywhere but their faces. "I failed Selphie. I couldn't protect you, the others, SeeD or our world or even Rinoa. I failed you all; I don't deserve to be called such a name any longer..."
"It wasn't your fault," Seifer spoke surprising everyone in the room by the sincerity in his voice, "None of this was your fault. All of these incidents were beyond the control of one individual-"
"I was in charge of their protection! They depended on ME! Now half are dead and the other half is in slavery while I am set to live out my life as some Royal's fuck toy!"
"Calm down," Zell hissed as the door began to open, allowing the access of a number of guards who roughly grabbed each of them and led the hesitant slaves across the hall where they were lashed to a number of straight poles which protruded from the cold basalt floor.
The last to come in was the smug slave trader who checked all the bindings spending extra time and extra attention in Squall alone, a triumphant smile of his face.
Squall didn't like that smile at all.
Please Review... I'm not sure whether or not I should continue this story and need support to do so.