Kitsune: Hey guys it's me! I had a great new idea for a story! I hope you like it!

Tempest: Does this one actually have a plot?

Kitsune: Yes! ^___^

Tempest: *sarcastic* Oh my! Alert the press! Call the president!

Kitsune: Oh be quiet! Okay, anyway, I'll post one chapter for now, and if you guys like it, tell me and I'll put up the next one!

Tempest: …….

Kitsune: Wow! He has nothing to say for once! On with the fic!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing! Sunrise, Bandai, and some other company do! You won't get any money because I don't have any!

Warnings: AU, Slavery, shounen-ai, maybe yaoi (boy + boy relationships) and language. You don't like? You don't read!


The sun was rising behind the misty curtains of the hazy dawn. Its rays soon stretched across the fields of crops to a group of buildings nestled in a small vale. On this estate there was a large mansion, barns and stables for the livestock and horses, and there were also a scattering of smaller buildings. In the largest building the lord of the manor slept.

A knock sounded on the door. "Lord Treize, breakfast is ready." A voice came from the other side, rousing the sleeping man. He sat up, blinking owlishly in the morning light.

"Yes, thank you. I'll be right down." he replied. He had had that dream again. A year previously, he had been engaged to the woman of his dreams. Lady Une had been perfect; she was a smart, cultured, beautiful woman. They were both madly in love with each other. Une had died weeks before their wedding date. She had contracted some rare, incurable disease. He dreamt of her often.

In his dream, he was chasing after Une, who merely laughed and ran away. When he would get so close to reaching her, she would sprout large wings and fly up into the clouds. He would fall to his knees begging her to come back. Then a hand would reach out to help him up, but he always woke up before he saw the stranger's face.

'It wasn't meant to be,' he thought bitterly to himself, getting dressed for breakfast. After doing so, he went through lavishly decorated hallways and corridors, and downstairs to the dining room. His cousin was already there.

Dorothy and he had inherited the estate about three years ago from their uncle, Duke Dermail. They had been his only successors, so he had left them in joint ownership of all his property. Surprisingly, he and Dorothy got along fairly well, due to the fact that neither overstepped his or her respectful tolerance for the other. Treize was three years her senior at twenty-five.

"Good morning, Dorothy," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Treize," she answered. He sat down across from her and ate when the servers brought him breakfast. Upon finishing, he went out into the stables to look over the horse he had bought the day before.


Treize was astride his new horse, which he had named Apollo. The stallion was a fine, well-bred horse, intended for a Lord's mount. He was a rich bay, coppery in color with black mane, tail and legs. The young lord gazed across the fields, watching the slaves work.

Dermail, as with many rich nobles, had no ethical problem in owning slaves. Treize didn't mind either. It saved a lot of money in running the estate, and should a problem arise, they could always be sold. There were many slaves here. Some worked in the fields, some in the house, and others in the livery or barns. Most of them worked quite willingly. The labor was not back-breaking, and the Lord and Lady were good masters to them.

Treize looked up when he heard footsteps running toward him. It was his messenger, a swift-footed young girl named Catherine. She came and stood next to Apollo and addressed him.

"Lord?" she asked timidly.

"Yes?" he turned to face her.

"I was told to come and tell you that Mister Marcus has arrived and has asked to see you." She said quickly.

"Alright, run back and tell him I'll be there in a moment." She nodded and shot off. Marcus was a local slave dealer. Treize wondered why he would've come without being sent for. They had enough slaves at present. Curious, he turned Apollo around and set off at a trot in the direction of the main courtyard.

Treize pulled on the reins to stop his horse. He dismounted and greeted Marcus, handing his horse over to a livery slave.

"Good day, Marcus, what brings you here?" He asked, slightly impatient.

"Good day to you, Lord. I came here because I found something that might be of interest to you." The man replied. If he could land a deal like this, he could die a rich and happy man.

"Oh?" The young noble lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes. Just a moment, please," the man walked over to his wagon. It had a covered cage-like structure on the wagon bed, which was used to hold slaves. He took out his key, unlocked the door, and reached inside. He pulled out a young man.

Treize almost gasped. The boy, for he could be no older than eighteen, was beautiful. He had naturally bronze skin that stretched over a lean, toned body. His almond eyes were jet black, and his ebony hair was tied back in a small ponytail. His clothes were odd and foreign.

The lord reached forward and held the young man's chin in his hands. The boy tried to pull away but the chains around his wrists were firmly grasped in Treize's other hand. Then he pulled his head away and tried to bite. That seemed to work. The older man let go of his shackles and took a step back. The slave dealer boxed him about the ears.

"A little feisty, isn't he?" He said, his eyes warning the boy not to do it again.

"Yes." Treize agreed. "Where is he from?"

"I am not sure exactly, but somewhere in the Far East. He is strong, but I would not waste his beauty in the fields,"

"What is your name?" the noble asked. The boy scowled and the slaver hit him again. This time he did as he was bid and answered.


Treize looked the boy over again, and then turned to Marcus,"How much?" The young man's mouth hung open. They were going to sell him, just like he was a side of beef or a sack of vegetables. Marcus named his price.

Treize frowned. "That's a lot for one slave,"

"Ah, yes," the man replied, "But I also have some of his valuable belongings. They were treasures of his clan, I believe." He continued at a nod from the lord. "A golden dragon statue and a beautiful sword. I'll show them to you." He rummaged around in the front of his cart and came up with them, presenting them to the young lord.

Treize nodded his approval. "I will pay the price you asked. You may go to Noin and she will pay you." Noin helped the Lord and Lady manage the finances of the estate. Marcus went off to collect his sum. Treize turned to the young boy who was still standing with his mouth agape. He hailed a nearby slave.

"Yes, Lord?" The boy was about Wufei's age, but taller, with green eyes and brown bangs that fell into his face.

"I want you to take him," gesturing to the young Asian boy, "and get him banded. Tell Zechs to use gold and black, red, and blue. Then make sure he has a bath and new clothes. Then bring him to me, understand?"

"Yes, Lord." The boy turned and indicated Wufei should follow him. He tried to keep up with the taller boy, but the chains around his ankles kept tripping him. The brown haired boy stopped to wait for him to catch up. "Not far now," he said.

"Where are we going…um…?" he asked. He wasn't quite sure what getting 'banded' entailed.

"Trowa. We're going to the blacksmith." Guessing Wufei's next question, he said, "Banding is when you get this," he pointed to the metal band that formed a collar around his neck, "It shows that you are a slave. It won't come off unless they cut it off you."

Wufei's eyes had widened significantly. They continued walking until they reached the small building that was the blacksmith's shop. "Mister Zechs!" Trowa called out above the roar of the fire and the striking of the hammer. A man with long blonde hair was pounding at a piece of metal. He stopped and looked up.


"This is a new slave. Lord Treize said to band him with gold and to use black, red, and blue, sir." Zechs looked surprised at this, but said nothing. Then he called back to his assistant:

"Heero!" The boy came out. He had solemn blue eyes and a mop of chocolate brown hair. Wufei noticed that Heero was 'banded' but that Zechs was not. He turned back to Wufei and Trowa. "You can wait outside. It might take while."

They sat down under a small tree, a little ways off. Wufei was silent for a moment. He considered running away, but he could do little more than walk with chains on him. Trowa turned to him.

"You've never been a slave have you?" he asked.

"No. But it's not like I have any home to go back to now." The young Asian said. Since he said no more, Trowa decided not push it.

"You're lucky, you know." Wufei looked surprised at this. "Lord Treize and Lady Dorothy are very good masters. Be grateful."

"What do you mean?" Wufei snapped, fury showing in his face and eyes. "How can you call this," he held up his chains, "lucky?!"

Trowa looked angry. "You should be very glad that Lord Treize bought you."

"Why?" Wufei snarled. He hated the thought of being owned.

"Because if he had refused to buy you, you might have been sold to some rich, perverted lord who had no purpose for you but sex." Trowa said very quietly and dangerously. "You are very fortunate."

Wufei's eyes softened. From the tone in which he had said it, he guessed Trowa had probably been owned by a master like that. "I'm sorry…"  The green eyed boy said nothing. They sat in silence for about ten minutes before Heero came out of the forge.

"Come on, we're ready for you." Both boys got up and followed him into the forge. He indicated a stool and Wufei sat down. Heero took a large, worn rag and folded it several times and wrapped it around the other boy's neck. Wufei was unsure of what was going on, but he managed to sit still.

Zechs came out of the back of the forge; he was holding a red-hot glowing piece of metal in his gloved hands. Heero grabbed a piece of string and wrapped it around Wufei's neck, pulling it tight against the rag. He removed it and said something to Zechs, who nodded. Heero then donned a pair of thick gloves also and helped Zechs to fit it to Wufei's neck.

He could feel the heat through the rag. They had it shaped so that the two ends of the flat metal nearly touched. Heero held it in place while Zechs heated a small, D-shaped metal ring with a gap in it. He put the ring through the two holes in ends of the band of metal and with a pair of pliers, forced the ring shut.

Icy water rushed over Wufei. Heero and Trowa had poured a bucket of water over his head to cool the burning metal. The rag was then removed and the weight of the band hung on his neck. It was not tight, so it rested where his neck met his shoulders.

"Come on," Trowa said. "We still have a lot to do." Wufei followed the other boy, still unsure of what his fate would be in this strange place.


Kitsune: So what do you think so far??? Don't worry; I'll include Duo and Quatre in the story soon! I thought of this last night and I just had to make a fic out of it! Review please! ^__^

Tempest: I'm impressed.

Kitsune: Tempest, you said something nice! YAY! *hugs him*

Tempest: I can be nice, when you don't write crap.

Kitsune: *whaps him* I don't write crap! Take that back!

Tempest: Fine!

Kitsune: Yay! ^___^ I reign supreme!!!

Tempest: *mumbling* su-uuure…..


Tempest: You are so desperate.

Kitsune: And that's a bad thing?

Tempest: *sighs* Just review her story so she'll leave me alone.