Shiro watched curiously as his 'master' put a bowl on the table and filled it with water.
The bowl was unusual. It was fine silver, polished to a mirror like shine. At first he thought the man just meant to wash himself but after pouring the water in, he put in three very tiny, paper boats. Shiro's eyes widened as the man began to chant again, watching the boats carefully. After a few moments the boats began to bob, the water turning into tiny waves. He stared in awe as little clouds began to form over the bowl and there was a tiny flash of lightning. Then one of the boats vanished, pulled under the water.
The blue man said something that had to be a curse and grabbed the bowl, taking it out of the room. Shiro watched with deep interest as he came back with an empty bowl and began the process all over again, with a new set of little boats. This time the auguries were more favorable, with the little boats encountering no problems. The blue haired man nodded, satisfied, and glanced at him. He frowned and Shiro wondered what he was thinking. But he went back to his work, carrying the bowl out again. Shiro thought he was likely dumping the water overboard.
When he came back, though, there was no more magic. Instead he unhooked the chain from the bed and gave the pale slave some clothes. Pants and a shirt, nothing like the pure linens he'd always worn and Shiro pulled them on gratefully. He wanted nothing to connect him to his past. Then the stranger gripped the chain, leading him out. Shiro wished he could get rid of that too, but even if he wanted to the blue man likely couldn't. There wouldn't be a blacksmith on the ship.
As the blue man led him out Shiro took the chance to look around. He'd never seen a ship before. It was made of wood, of course, kept very clean. There were iron lanterns on the walls, bolted tight to avoid letting the slightest spark free. The stranger brought him to a room where a man was hacking at a large piece of meat. They conversed for a moment and Shiro was pushed into a chair as the man grabbed a pair of scissors.
What followed next was a quick cutting of his hair. Shiro wasn't sure he liked that, but he'd noticed that these strangers all kept their hair short. Perhaps it would be better to fit in a little. When the barber was done the blue man smiled and fluffed his hair, saying something in a teasing tone. Shiro wished, not for the first time, that he could understand him. Then the barber said something in a crabby tone and the blue man laughed, taking hold of his chain again. Shiro followed obediently and blinked as he was brought to the mess hall.
It was pretty clear what it was. Men were laughing and feasting on things clearly captured from temple. Shiro himself had always been kept on a strict diet to ensure his cleanliness. No red meat had touched his lips, but now he found a steak being shoved onto his plate. He was given a knife to cut it with and started in on it with gusto. It was tough but extremely flavorful, much better than the largely vegetarian fare the temple had given him.
The blue man tapped him on the shoulder and Shiro looked up enquiringly. He smiled and rested a hand on his chest before saying a word. The pale man blinked before trying to say it back to him. It took him a few tries to get it right, it was like nothing he'd ever heard before.
"Grimmjow." Now he knew the stranger's name. He rested a hand on his own chest, returning the favor. "Shiro." The blue man said it easily and Shiro smiled, looking at him shyly. It was early to tell but he thought he really liked Grimmjow.
After that, though, he was put to work. Shiro didn't mind. He quickly learned the basics of swabbing the deck and began cleaning it, wrapping the chain around one arm to keep it out of the way. Feeling eyes on him he glanced up and saw Grimmjow watching. The blue man gave him a small smile before vanishing back into the ship. Shiro shrugged to himself before going back to his work.
If he made himself useful, he might have a better chance of being accepted among these people.
Grimmjow sighed to himself as he walked back to his rooms.
He was essentially the commander of the little flotilla. He was a competent seaman but no ships' captain, so he left that to the professionals. The overall strategy and larger decisions were his, and determining when and where to set sail was among the largest of his duties.
His magics said that leaving immediately would bring them to disaster. One ship would be lost and he damned well wasn't going to chance that it would be the one he was on. So after cleansing the room he'd recast the spell, and the prospects for sailing in three days time were favorable. All they had to worry about in the meantime was the natives, and they would have to keep a watch out for that. But they could hunt and feast on the captured animals they'd taken. Temples always did offer the best loot.
Grimmjow's thoughts strayed back to his pale slave and he couldn't help the pain that hit him again. He really hadn't wanted to crop the man's hair short, but there'd been little choice. The one loot they were lacking was women. The temple they'd attacked had been strictly male and the men were complaining a bit about the lack of opportunities. Grimmjow knew soldiers and his men were a touch unsavory even by the usual standards. With his long hair, Shiro had looked all too feminine. Someone might decide he was an acceptable substitute and then things would get ugly. It was better to cut it off, even if it did enhance his resemblance to… him.
Shoving that thought aside, Grimmjow used his magic to send a quick message to the other ships. The captain's were all a bit frightened of the way he had marked them and could speak in their ears, but they had to admit that it made for excellent communications. Grimmjow smirked a little to himself as he thought of it.
The temple they'd raided had actually been fairly well defended. But they'd placed too much faith in their magic, confident that the infidel sea raiders would not be able to penetrate the wards. And if Grimmjow hadn't been there they would have been right. But his magic was truly potent and he believed in no gods. A fact he hid from his own men. They might be unsavory but many of them were quite fervent in their beliefs. Of course, the worship of Odakka had no problems with slaughtering unbelievers…
Sighing to himself, Grimmjow opened the door to the treasure room. His next duty was to start tallying the loot and portioning it out. He was the only one trusted to do it. His reputation for fairness in such matters was spotless, and for good reason. Grimmjow believed in treating allies fairly no matter how little he might like them.
It wasn't long before he was deeply engrossed in his work. What he had in this room was the precious metals and jewels, things he couldn't trust underlings around. But he also had lists of other property they'd taken, things like fine silks, spices and slaves. The food and other provisioning were included as well, but those would simply be used. His men would eat well for a time on the return leg. There was also a list of odd, miscellaneous things and the blue man lifted his eyebrows at one entry.
"A box of chocolate? Really? Where is it?" Grimmjow asked out loud before looking through the room. Sure enough, someone had stuck it in a drawer. "Huh!" Chocolate was ridiculously expensive. However, when he opened it he found it was already half-eaten. "Hah." He noted it as half-ruined and worth only a few silver, then claimed it for himself. Half-eaten or not, he'd finish it. Maybe share a bit with the captain and Shiro while he was at it. "Hm." Most of the slaves were pre-valued but Shiro was on the list too, with a big question mark beside his 'white demon' description. Grinning, Grimmjow valued him at a gold. That made him an expensive slave but it was high enough that no one would dispute it when he took the pale man as part of his share.
When he was half-done the tally Grimmjow was sure he would be able to pay off all his debts with a comfortable cushion. He hadn't funded and led this expedition out of simple greed. He was a wealthy man but he'd miscalculated slightly. Some of his investments weren't doing as well as he'd hoped and the greedy moneylenders were asking for some truly outrageous interest. This would clean off his slate and give his investments time to recover. The moneylenders would be disappointed but who gave a fig about them?
"Milord Wizard? The captain wants to see you." Grimmjow glanced up with a frown as one of the men interrupted his work. Scowling, he set aside the accounts and went to see what was going on. From the look on the man's face it was something he probably wouldn't like.
"Milord Wizard?" The captain was surrounded with three of his best men, the highest ranked sailors on the ship. "Were you aware that the white boy you've claimed was meant to be a sacrifice to the god of these people?" He said, getting right to the point. Grimmjow frowned, wondering why this warranted a meeting.
"No. What of it?" He asked. He wasn't too surprised they'd found out something like that. Shiro might not speak their language but the trade tongue was fairly widespread. Shiro couldn't speak that either, but he'd clearly been kept sequestered. Some of the priests would know it. There was a heavy silence and Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious." Of course they were. Sailors were a superstitious lot, which only made sense really. They were at the mercy of the gods all the time, praying that a storm wouldn't destroy them.
"It only seems right to give the gods what their due." One of the men said nervously and Grimmjow suppressed the desire to punch him in the face. Instead he applied his mind to logic.
"First off, they're not our gods. If you sacrifice the boy to his own heathen deities you might offend Odakka." He said which made the man exchange a glance. "And as for sacrificing him to Odakka, he's not the kind of offering our god enjoys. He's an unblooded boy, never even seen combat." Their god favored the sacrifice of warriors, preferably with an impressive list of accomplishments. "However, I do agree that the god deserves his due." Grimmjow said in a conciliatory tone. He knew how to play this. "We should sacrifice several of the captured warriors, the ones who fought well against us, towards him." That was a common practice and the men in front of him brightened.
"That's good." The captain said, clearly relieved. Grimmjow could guess why. He really hadn't wanted a confrontation with the wizard, but letting the men grumble and worry each other was nearly as bad. This would calm the men and they would see the logic in it. "We'll do that. How many, do you think? Three?" He asked and it was quickly decided that three of their new slaves would go to see the god tomorrow, one for each ship. With everything settled, Grimmjow left them to go back to his work. It didn't bother him a bit that he'd just sentenced three men to a nasty death. One of the priests must have run his mouth about their sacrificial victim. He only wished he could find that man in particular and make sure he fed the fish.
He damned well deserved it.
Shiro watched the sacrifices the next day with empty eyes.
He felt nothing for the priests. The years of fear and anticipation he'd suffered had made certain of that. And their deaths were much faster than what they'd planned for him. After a bit of chanting and an offering of blood and gold from the most prominent man on the ship – Grimmjow for this one – the sacrifice was stabbed through the heart with a spear. Then the heart was removed and placed on a charcoal brazier as the body was tossed overboard, given to the sea. There were cheers from the men as the heart sizzled on the coals. When it was done Shiro turned away, going back to his work. Right now, one of the seamen was teaching him the art of knots.
The man was also teaching them their language, although that was largely incidental. Surrounded by people who spoke another tongue, Shiro was already starting to pick it up. He'd always had an agile mind although he hadn't been able to use it much. The priests had educated him – only the best for the gods – but after he'd found out the truth, they hadn't given him much. A book or two to read, sometimes, but that had been all.
Shiro smiled as he worked on the knots, learning the ways of the ship. He was enjoying this. The only danger for him was sunburn and he'd been issued a good shirt and hat to help prevent that. His white skin burned horribly and never tanned.
Lunch was a bit of bread and cheese, enough to keep them going. Supper was the high point of the day and Shiro got to taste mutton. It had been stewed all day and was wonderfully tender and flavorful. He savored every bite and wished he could tell the cook how good it was, but he didn't have the words yet.
Of course, the real high point of the day came after that. They went to bed with the setting sun, and Shiro went to Grimmjow's room without question. He knew the blue man would want him there and he was right. Although…
"Hurts." He said, touching his backside. He was quite sore there. Grimmjow looked confused. "Hurts?" He hoped that was what he was saying. Then Grimmjow grinned and corrected his pronunciation.
"Yes, I ****" The last word was something Shiro didn't know. But he could guess the meaning. Yes, I know. Grimmjow said something completely incomprehensible then, but the tone was reassuring. Then he began to strip off his clothing and the pale slave followed suit, watching as that beautifully toned, tanned body was revealed. Grimmjow was incredibly handsome. Just the thought of those hands on him made his dick stir.
It did more than stir a moment later, as the other man sat him down on the bed. Grimmjow knelt in front of him and favored him with a grin, to Shiro's confusion. Then the blue man moved forward and black and gold eyes went wide as a hot mouth enfolded his cock.
Holy shit! Is he really?! Shiro bit his hand, holding back a groan as a sinful tongue teased him, a delicious suction tormented him. Can't believe this. He knew about such things but he'd always thought this was a submissive act. No priest would lower himself to sucking off a novice, let alone a slave! Then his eyes rolled back as the blue man gripped his balls, playing with them and rolling them in his hands.
Shiro was starting to learn control, though, and he didn't want to have this pleasure end too quickly. So he held back his release, deeply enjoying the sensations Grimmjow was giving him. At first he wrapped his hands in the blankets, not daring to touch the blue man, but then he rested them on his shoulders, mutely urging him on. The way his tongue was moving, stroking him from base to tip… the incredible tightness of his throat, squeezing his cock so firmly… Shiro let out a soft whine, closing his eyes. He was enjoying this so much.
The end finally came and Shiro cried out as he released. Grimmjow didn't pull away, swallowing every bit of it before letting go of him with a small pop. Shiro looked down, utterly speechless, and blushed at the wicked grin the man was giving him. Then he blinked as he was pulled off the bed and Grimmjow took his place, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Oh. Shiro blushed as he knelt obediently, examining the erection in front of his face. It seemed that blowing him off had been an arousing experience for the other man. He hesitantly licked him, curious about what it would taste like. It doesn't taste like much of anything, really. Emboldened by that, Shiro took the blue man in his mouth. He wasn't sure if he could do this as well as Grimmjow had, but he was definitely going to try.
If there were any complaints with his technique, he couldn't understand them. The sounds Grimmjow was making didn't sound like complaints anyway. It was mostly soft moans, sounds of pleasure and Shiro made it a game to pull out as many as he could. He discovered that Grimmjow loved having his balls played with and he exploited that, cupping the firm flesh as he kept up a good, strong suction. He tried to wrap his tongue around the length but couldn't manage it as well as Grimm had. It didn't matter though. He would get better in time.
It took quite a while to get Grimmjow off, but the blue man was older and more experienced. He said something in a warning tone and that gave Shiro the time he needed to prepare. When Grimmjow released he tried to swallow it, but there was just too much. He pulled back, coughing, white liquid sliding down the corner of his mouth. Shiro blinked, his eyes watering as Grimmjow drew him up. Then his eyes widened in surprise as the other man licked the trail of cum off his face and followed it with a deep, searching kiss. Shiro melted into that affection, enjoying the warmth and closeness with the other man. Then Grimmjow got up, pulling the sheets down. Feeling a bit wobbly and tired, Shiro joined him in bed. He snuggled up to the other man and he said a word he didn't understand, followed by his name. Shiro smiled to himself and replied with the same phrase.
"Goodnight Grimmjow." He was sure that was what it meant. Grimmjow grinned and ruffled his short hair for a moment before closing his eyes. Shiro followed suit, letting himself drift off to sleep.
This had been a wonderful day.