A/N: Here's the second chapter! Again, there's more character development in here to give some key information for the rest of the story, but the real plot starts at the end.
I want to thank Eraman, XXXNiffWevidTradRobastianXXX and Izzygrace2143 for leaving some lovely reviews for the last chapter! And also everyone else who favourited or followed this story! :)
I have put a few historical notes at the end to explain some things.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
"Nicholas, your father wishes to speak to you."
Nick sighed as his mother's voice drifted through his bedroom door to where he was sprawled across his bed, rapidly writing on a small piece of paper. He put down his writing things and quickly tucked them under his bed, where no one would find them. He didn't even want to consider what his parents would do if they found his poems.
"Coming, Mother!" he called in return, exiting his bedroom and hurrying to the dining room, where his parents were lying on the couches eating breakfast.
They both looked up when he entered.
"Ah, Nicholas," his father said, "I was wondering when you'd finally emerge from your room and show yourself. It's bad to hole yourself up alone all day, you know."
Nick had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his father; the man said it was bad if Nick showed his face around the house too often as well.
"I'm sorry, Father, it won't happen again," he said, plastering a fake smile on his face and waiting for whatever his father had to say.
"Since it is your birthday today, Nicholas," his father continued, "I have deemed you old enough to be a man, do you understand?"
Nick nodded, wondering whether his parents would ever grant his request to be known as Nick and not Nicholas. If he was honest, they probably never would. He'd asked his father about it once, but he'd just told him that Nick wasn't a proper name. Nick hadn't dared to contest his father's judgement to his face, but he was pretty sure that Nick counted as a valid name; he called himself that, all of his friends called him that and no one had ever laughed at him when he introduced himself. Anyway, how could the name Nick not be acceptable? Especially since his father seemed to accept the names that his mother called the household slaves, and some of them were definitely worse than Nick.
However, Nick's musings within his own head were abruptly interrupted as his father spoke again.
"Well, since we both agree on that, I've decided that it is high time that I bought you your own slave."
Nick suddenly felt as though the ceiling of the dining room had collapsed inwards and was slowly crushing him; he tried to take deep breaths but his chest just tightened in panic, as though he was suffocating. He swayed slightly on the spot as he tried to calm himself. A slave? His father couldn't be serious. In a moment, he'd laugh it off and say that he wouldn't waste good money on Nick, wouldn't he? Then Nick would be able to breathe again.
But instead his father was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.
Nick opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
His head was spinning wildly, this couldn't be happening, could it? Nick, the boy who'd once vehemently promised Wes and Sebastian that he'd never own a slave because he thought slavery was cruel, was getting a slave for his birthday.
As a present. The thought itself was sickening, one human being claiming to have ownership over another and then passing them off like any old object. Nick hated slavery with a passion, and he guessed that he was in the minority of the Roman Empire, since slavery was such a widespread occurrence. Most people didn't even blink when someone mentioned it, and slaves were a common sight throughout the entirety of the city.
But just because it was common, did that make it right? Nick didn't think so. He was a firm believer that freedom was a right, not something that had to be earned, and therefore, he'd vowed to never own a slave in his lifetime.
Yet, now his father was going to make him buy his own slave. His own slave. Nick was about to voice his displeasure, when he realised that it would do him no good; his mother would look down on him even more and probably brand him a failure, while his father would buy him three slaves just to spite him.
"So, Nicholas?" his mother's voice startled him, "Are you going to thank your father?"
"I…I…" Nick stuttered, struggling to find anything to say in this situation.
"No need to thank me, son," his father said jovially, "I know when I'm doing you a favour."
Nick's eyes widened and he wondered whether they'd fall out of his head if he got any more surprises. His father thought that his lack of response was due to his joy; that he was thrilled to be getting a slave. How much more wrong could he be?
However, Nick couldn't see anyway of getting out of this, so he gritted his teeth and flashed a smile at his parents.
"Thank you, Father, Mother," he managed to get out, stopping himself before he choked on his own words.
"We're glad you appreciate it, Nicholas," his mother said, "Sometimes we worry that you aren't exactly grateful for everything we give you." Her eyes narrowed at her son as she spoke, willing him to defy her.
Nick sighed quietly, trust his mother to bring this up. Yes, they'd given him a house to live in; clothes to wear; an education; food to eat; but not the one thing Nick craved: some love and attention.
But as much as Nick wanted to tell them this, he didn't think he could face an argument right now, so, again, he just smiled.
"I'm always grateful, Mother," he said, "And I'm sorry if I don't always show it."
His mother didn't say anything in return, but at least she looked mildly satisfied with his answer.
"Well, Nicholas," his father said, getting off the couch and motioning to a waiting slave to take the food away, "There's a slave auction today in the Forum, we'd better be off if we want to get the best ones."
The best ones. As though somebody could categorise one human being as better than another, Nick curled his hands into fists behind his back, but remained silent.
"Well, go and get ready then," his father shooed him away with a dismissive wave, "I'll expect you in the atrium in ten minutes, I'm sure the household gods are waiting for you."
Nick nodded respectfully, and fled the room as quickly as he could without it being obvious.
The household gods were in the lararium; small statues and a few paintings were the relics that Nick's family prayed to, representatives of the real gods who kept watch over the house and its occupants.
Nick picked up some of the fruits that lay beside the lararium on the small table, and placed the food in front of the statues.
"Bless me, household gods," he began, "And favour me today."
He looked up at the figures, searching for whether any of them held any sort of clue as to what he was supposed to do.
"What do I do, household gods?" he asked pleadingly, "How am I supposed to own a slave if I don't even believe in slavery?"
The statues in the lararium just stared back at him blankly, regarding him with their stone eyes. Nick sighed. How could he expect the gods to worry about his problems?
But suddenly, as one of the slaves opened the front door, a huge gust of wind ripped through the house and knocked over one of the books that were standing on a shelf in the atrium. There was a crash as the large book clattered onto the table below, falling open at one of the middle pages.
Nick went over to pick it back up and return it to its original position, when one of the words on the page caught his eye:
"Friends," Nick whispered it aloud.
He shook his head and closed the book, replacing it on the shelf and wondering why he seemed to feel that that word was so significant.
"Ready, Nicholas?" his father's voice called from the front door.
"Yes, Father!" Nick replied, turning away from the bookshelf and thinking nothing of what had just happened.
For the entirety of the journey to the Forum, Nick was restless, his head whirling in apprehension about what was about to happen; he was about to revoke the most solemn vow he'd ever made to his friends. He was so nervous that he missed a few of his father's acquaintances as they passed, and his father scolded him on his manners because he hadn't greeted them. For a fleeting minute, Nick thought that his father might then decide he wasn't ready to be a man yet, and therefore, he wouldn't get him a slave, but they continued on their journey regardless.
Nick heard the Forum before he saw it, the loud clamour overriding the rest of the city. And he realised that there was no way that he could back out now.
"Get up!"
Jeff jumped as a loud voice startled the silence of the ship's hold and was quickly followed by a brutal onslaught of bright light. The sunshine burned his eyes, and he had to blink rapidly to adjust them from the previous darkness to the newfound light.
"We've docked!" the same voice yelled again, "We're going ashore now!"
Jeff and the rest of the prisoners were hustled to their feet, and then pushed towards the deck. Jeff was grateful for small mercies, at least they'd told them what was happening, and hadn't just shepherded them out, where they could have been thrown overboard for all they knew.
Outside, Jeff was greeted with his first view of a proper city. It was huge, and the sheer amount of people in just the port immediately made Jeff feel only a few inches tall. It was breathtaking and terrifying at the same time.
"Welcome to Rome!" one of the sailors cried gleefully, patting Jeff on the shoulder, "Get used to it, it's your new home!" He grinned, and Jeff recoiled at the state of the man's teeth; they were either blackened or yellowed, and some were completely missing. A terrible thought struck Jeff, what if all the people in this city were as horrifying as this sailor?
No, of course they wouldn't be, and Jeff suddenly heard his mother's voice in his head.
"Don't judge people before you know them, Jeffrey."
Jeff's eyes pricked with tears, he could hear his mother so clearly that it was as though she was standing right next to him. No, he couldn't let these people see that he was upset or scared. So he put on a brave face and stayed expressionless so that they couldn't see his emotional turmoil inside as they were led up the gangway and into the port.
"Good," Nick's father said, as they stopped in an opportune spot in the Forum, "We're early." Nick couldn't see what was good about the situation at all, but he didn't dare say that.
They didn't have to wait long; within a few minutes, there was a great surge in the crowd as they led the slaves through.
Nick caught a few glimpses of them as the crowd parted to let them reach the furthest end of the Forum, where the official regulators of the slave auction were already waiting. Although he couldn't see much, the few captives he could see looked absolutely terrified, and Nick didn't blame them for a second; they had been dragged from their homes and thrown headfirst into an unknown world, where they would be expected to obey every order that was yelled at them.
Eventually, the procession made it within a few feet of where Nick and his father were standing, and Nick found he had a good vantage point upon which to observe the slaves.
He quickly cast his eyes across the long line; watching as the slave trader hurried to and fro, untying certain slaves, and herding others towards the officials.
Suddenly, he found himself drawn towards the furthest end of the line, as he locked gazes with a tall blonde boy, who looked about a similar age to him. The blonde boy looked horrified that Nick had even looked at him, but also as though he was trying to remain expressionless, even in light of what he was facing.
Nick tried to smile reassuringly at the boy, while also admiring him for his courage to not break down in the same way that many other slaves were. The boy didn't respond to Nick's smile, he just continued to stare at him; although, Nick would have sworn that the boy had blushed slightly.
Suddenly, Nick found that his father was speaking to him, and he had to break his gaze with the slave boy, and give his father his whole attention.
"Now, Nicholas," his father said, "I want you to choose a personal slave for yourself. Don't worry about the price, that'll pay itself back in the work that the slave does for you, do you understand?"
Nick nodded, not understanding how what his father was saying was right; he was acting as though the slave would be repaying a debt to Nick himself, yet none of the slaves in front of him owed him anything. In fact, Nick was pretty sure that it was his fellow citizens who owed these people their freedom.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nick caught sight of the slave trader speaking to a man that he recognised as one of the local gladiator trainers, and he was just close enough to hear what they were saying.
"I'm looking for twenty new men," the trainer said. The slave trader nodded.
"What about these twenty on the end?" he asked, and Nick immediately felt awfully sorry for whoever had been chosen, it was bad enough being a slave, but becoming a gladiator was worse.
He glanced down the line to pity those about to be sold to the trainer, only to lock eyes with the blonde boy again.
Wait! The blonde was within the group of slaves the slave trader was preparing to sell! Nick's heart started racing uncontrollably; the blonde boy looked so terrified, as though he'd already anticipated his fate. Nick couldn't just let him go like that, could he? Let him go and then go on with his own life, and choose another slave, could he do it?
No, he couldn't.
"Father!" Nick cried hurriedly, catching his father's attention immediately, "I've decided on a slave." He motioned towards the blonde boy. "I would like him, please!"
A/N: I have a few historical points to make about this chapter, just to make everything clear:
1. The lararium is a shrine to the Roman household gods and ancestors, and almost every Roman had some sort of one in their home that they would worship every day with prayers or offerings. Many larariums were very ornate to please the gods.
2. The atrium is the room directly inside the front door, it is almost like an entrance hall, but is larger and contains more furniture than just a hall.
3. Most slave markets were conducted in a more orderly fashion than in this story, slaves would have boards that gave their names, ages and skills to inform the buyers, and they would often be bidded on. I changed this to make it more straightforward. Slaves were also sold naked, but I didn't exactly think that was appropriate for this story - and I didn't want Nick's first impression of Jeff to be him without any clothes on!
PM or review if you want to ask me any more questions about the historical aspect, or just the story in general! Or just review and tell me what you think of the story so far!
Thank you!