Author's Note: Another story inspired by ShadowThorne, her Snuff fic. But this one is set in a medieval type setting. And despite what you might think at first, Grimmjow is not a bastard. XD He's just… complicated. Enjoy!
Shiro stood proud and tall, lifting his lips in a snarl as he looked over the crowd with burning eyes.
It was evening and time for the slave auctions to start in earnest. Slavery was legal in the Seven Kingdoms, and this was no small slave market. No, this was perhaps the largest in Alundra, the Kingdom closest to his homeland of Zunista. The market was situated in the capital of Aberton, and Shiro had been there before under more auspicious circumstances. He'd never visited the slave market, though. His family didn't approve of the practice and preferred to use freemen for their estates.
Shiro wiggled, trying to loosen the bonds on his wrists. He'd tried dozens of times before and it was as ineffective now as it had always been. Sighing in disgust he gave up and just waited for his turn.
He was going to be sold today. If he'd been told even a month ago that this could be his fate, he would have laughed. But that had been before his families' fued with the Kuchiki clan had turned ugly. He'd been taken in an ambush, not because he was important but because his half-brother Ichigo loved him. It was well known they were close and this would tear the Shiba heirs' heart in two.
I will survive. I will get back t'my King. Shiro swore to himself as he was finally dragged onto the auction platform. He didn't make it easy for the guards, kicking and biting, but they were well acquainted with handling unruly slaves. Shiro grunted in pain as he was forced to his knees. Then the auction began.
The price started insultingly low, but it quickly went up. There were multiple bidders at first, but most of them soon dropped out. Shiro squinted at the crowd, trying to make out who was bidding on him. When the price reached a gold, bidding stopped for a moment. Then it went up to a gold and one silver. That was the end and Shiro hissed as he was pulled off the platform.
He was roughly shoved back into his cage. The auction was still ongoing, and it included many lots of slaves. He was one of the few being sold individually, probably because of his non-human appearance. It was almost a candlemark before the auction finally finished up and he got to meet his 'owner.'
He was a bit surprised. Not that his 'owner' was handsome… he was gorgeous, really, with a feral beauty that would make women swoon… but the clear fact that he was non-human. Shiro had no idea what kind of non-human he was, though. He'd never seen blue furry ears before, green eye markings or such an odd looking crest of bone. It almost looked like a crown. Hard blue eyes stared at him and Shiro could not detect even the slightest bit of warmth or sympathy in the cerulean depths.
"You were a bit fucking expensive. You better be worth it, whitey." He growled and Shiro lifted his lip in a silent snarl. The man didn't undo the rope on his wrist, just using it to hook his arms to a rope leash. "C'mon."
"Fuck you!" Shiro wasn't going to give this bastard an inch. He set himself then lashed out with one foot as the stranger closed in on him. He was pretty damned good at hand to hand and he was quick and flexible. But to his shock, the stranger caught his foot with no sign of strain. Blue eyes met his and pain lanced through him as his 'owner' squeezed his foot. Bones grated against each other before he released and Shiro fell on his ass, gasping and holding back whimpers of pain.
"That was the only warning you're going to get." The man said before dragging him out of the cage. "Now, behave." Shiro hissed as he put weight on his foot. But the blue bastard had known exactly how much pressure to use. He could still walk and he was going to be fine, just bruised.
He pretended to be cowed, obedient. It was the toughest thing he'd done in his life. Obedience didn't come easily to him, it never had. But that was the only way he was going to get away from this fucker. And he was the only slave this guy had bought, which made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. What did the bastard want him for? Shiro didn't want to find out.
The moment finally came. A kid darted out from an alley and the blue man's eyes followed the movement. Shiro used the distraction to lash out, his foot impacting the man right on the inside of his right knee. Then he bit him on his left hand and there was a surprised scream before his 'owner' dropped the rope. Shiro sprinted away with everything he had, aware the blue bastard was in hot pursuit. But the river was close. He didn't need his hands to swim and if he could just make it…
It was close, very close, but he didn't make it. Shiro screamed in fury and frustration as a hard, brutal hand encircled his throat. Then he yelped in pain as his face was slammed into some nearby brickwork. Blood trickled down his face and Shiro gasped as the grip on his throat went from firm to choking. He writhed in the stranger's grip but there was nothing he could do to get free. He began to go limp before the hold on his neck was suddenly released. Shiro slid down the wall, gasping raggedly for air. A hard hand gripped him by the nape of his neck and yanked him up.
"You are going to regret that." There was anger in his voice now, rage and a deadly promise. Shiro shook his head, trying to shake off the wooziness. Then he was yanked along again, the rope choking him before he got his footing.
His captor didn't make the same mistake twice. His left hand was bleeding freely but he ignored it, concentrating on his captive. Shiro hissed as he was forced into a dark building. As soon as they were inside he was slammed against a wall and Shiro gasped as his head was bounced against the brick again. That made him too dazed to fight but he tried to struggle anyway as he felt claws shredding his clothing.
"H-Hey!" Fear tied a knot in his stomach as he felt air on his skin. "What're you doin'?" He asked, hoping against hope that this wasn't what it appeared to be. There was a harsh chuckle behind him as shreds of cloth fluttered away and Shiro suddenly noticed something very strange. The slaver's right hand was black, shading to normal skin halfway up his arm, and his fingers held wicked cat claws. But his left hand was completely normal, with very normal fingernails. Those nails dug into his hip but the strength of that grip was merely human.
"Are you a virgin?" Shiro's eyes went wide as the cold question confirmed his worst fears. He tried to kick out, tried to elbow the man but gasped as he got a solid hit in. The stranger's skin felt like hardened steel! His elbow throbbed in pain and he wondered how he'd managed to escape the first time. "...Nevermind. I don't care." A deep growl followed those words and Shiro abruptly stopped moving as fangs pressed against his throat. He was human in most ways, but he still had some instincts from his demonic heritage. And those instincts recognized the threat.
"Don't." He whispered, swallowing and feeling his adam's apple grating a bit along those sharp teeth, raising tiny spots of blood on his white skin. "Please." His life was in the other man's hands. If he died now, it would kill Ichigo. Shiro couldn't allow that to happen. There was a brief squeeze of fangs, a bit more blood and then the other man released him. Shiro shuddered as he felt a rasping tongue on his neck, cleaning the blood away.
"I am going to fuck you." That promise made his blood run cold and Shiro flinched away, revulsion filling him as he heard the clink of a belt. "Fight me and I'll rip your throat out." That threat suddenly ignited his anger. Shiro knew it was illogical, knew he was defeating his own purpose, but he just couldn't help it. He suddenly struck out at the man's left arm, intending to draw his sharp claws over pale flesh. He yelped in pain as his wrists were caught, the heavy rope digging into them painfully. "Stupid…" There was a vicious snarl in his ear.
That was all the warning the pale man hand before his body was violated. He screamed in pain as his rectum was torn open, taken in a way he could never have imagined. The pain was nearly unbearable and tears filled his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Shiro bit his lip until it bled, feeling the thrusts and the heavy weight on his back, the animal-like snarls of the blue man behind him.
But the ending was weird. Not that Shiro was an expert on rape, but he knew the man behind him hadn't climaxed when he pulled away, removing his too-large length. Shiro whimpered softly, sure it wasn't over. He was shocked when the man gripped him by the scruff of his neck, tossing him aside before doing up his pants. Shiro landed in a heap, gasping and looking up in confusion.
"Ya didn't…" He said in bafflement then cringed back as the man gave him a feral, vicious grin.
"You want me to?" He asked and Shiro almost cringed again before feeling a bolt of rage. Pulling white lips back from his teeth he gave a low, rumbling sound of threat. The blue bastard just gave him an unimpressed look before grabbing the rope and dragging him up, slinging him over his shoulder. Shiro would have fought but his ass felt like it was on fire and his legs were like wet noodles. And the man had put him on his right shoulder, not his left. Shiro had no doubt that if he tried to bite, he would find more strangely hard skin.
The stranger carried him into the back. Shiro was vaguely aware of cages, stalls that had once been used for pigs and had been reworked for slaves. Then he was tossed into one of the stalls. The rope was sliced away and Shiro barely had the strength to crawl to his miserable little cot before falling into unconsciousness.
The next week was something out of a nightmare.
Shiro quickly realized he'd been bought to serve in a whorehouse. He wasn't sure – he hadn't seen the rooms for the customers – but he had a feeling it was an expensive sort of place. The slaves were all lovely or exotic, or both. To one side of him was a very delicate young man with strange purple eyes, and on the other side was a pretty girl with black hair in pigtails and a permanent pout on her face. She was good at pasting on a smile whenever the blue man got near her, though.
Grimmjow. His name was Grimmjow. Shiro knew that from listening to him talk to the other slaves. His two cellmates wanted nothing to do with him, as if his defiance could be contagious. They were both good little suckups to their owner but Shiro had decided he just couldn't do it. He needed to stay alive for Ichigo but he was damned if he would let strangers ride him. Just the thought made him sick.
Grimmjow was trying to break him. Shiro shivered as he remembered all the times he'd been taken since that first time. He hated it, hated the pain and also hated the way Grimmjow did it. Shiro was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with him. Once in a while he came, but most of the time he pulled out when he was still hard and unsatisfied. It was like his dick was a tool, something he used to cause pain and nothing more. To Shiro's way of thinking, that was just completely screwed up. Who could enjoy something like that?
Shiro looked up at the sound of a door opening. This place had a set routine, and it was time for their first meal of the day. He was awake early and most of the other slaves were just stirring. Grimmjow brought out the food on a cart, pulled behind him, and slipped the bowls through a small opening at the bottom of the bars. It was oat porridge, extremely cheap but filling and Shiro took his with a wary snarl. Grimmjow just ignored him and went on to the next cell, distributing the breakfast. There were soft murmurs as he spoke to a few of the slaves, but Shiro didn't listen. It was nothing but picayune garbage anyway.
Finishing his bowl he shoved it back out through the flap. If he tried to keep it Grimmjow would come in to get it, and he would be punished. It wasn't worth it for a bowl. They weren't given any utensils, which could have been made into a real weapon. Their food never contained any bones, either. Shiro had never been to prison before but he was clever, and a sharpened bone had occurred to him. Apparently, Grimmjow had already thought of that.
Shiro felt his stomach clench as the big man stopped by the door to his cell. He looked up and met cold blue eyes defiantly. There was a pause as Grimmjow seemed to study him then began opening the door.
"You don't deserve it but this room is supposed to be reserved for new entries, and you're not exactly new anymore." He said grudgingly and Shiro frowned. Don't deserve it? "I'm moving you to a bigger cell." Shiro's frown deepened for a moment. He had noticed that his cell was the tiniest of the lot, probably meant for young animals. "Now, are you going to make this difficult?" Grimmjow's tone was level but there was a dark undertone. Shiro swallowed before coming to a decision.
"No." He muttered. It wasn't worth it. Even though he hated this bastard with every fibre of his being and wanted to see him dead and bleeding at his feet, it wasn't worth it. Not when he was just being moved from one cell to another. And Shiro knew what his chances of defeating Grimmjow were. That left arm was a huge weakness but the blue man was aware of it. He guarded it carefully. It had been a miracle that Shiro had managed to bite it even once. He still wondered why there was such a marked difference. What had happened to that arm, to make it so… normal? It was clear to him that Grimmjow's right arm was the one that belonged to the rest of him, with his catlike features.
He walked in front of the big man, refusing to look at him as he went to his new cell. It was furnished a bit better than his old one. The cot had a few extra blankets and there was, weirdly, a stuffed toy in the corner. He picked it up, studying it a moment. It was a stuffed rabbit.
"It belonged to the last girl to live there." He looked up at that soft voice, a bit surprised that another slave would speak to him. It was the woman in the cell beside his and she gave him a small, understanding smile. "She died." There was no sadness in her voice, just a calm statement of fact. Shiro swallowed and put the toy down before turning to look at her.
"Who're you?" He asked, trying to get a look at her. It wasn't easy, the lights in here were lanterns and rather dim. Then his eyes widened as he realized she wasn't human at all. She was an elf.
He'd known elves, of course. Young elves felt the need to wander and they had often passed through the kingdom. Once, his family had kept an elven bard all winter long, paying him handsomely and listening to his glorious music. He'd left with the spring, but Shiro had always remembered him.
That man had been handsome, but this woman was gorgeous beyond words. Her face was fine boned and lovely, framed by flowing green curls. Her brown eyes were calm and peaceful and somehow, they seemed to invite him to share that feeling with her. She was slowly knitting, her fingers flicking the needles together. Shiro blinked as he suddenly realized those knitting needles could make excellent weapons.
"You can't have one of my needles." She said calmly and Shiro flushed, mentally smacking himself for being so transparent. "You would only get in trouble and then my needles would be taken away. I would hate it if I couldn't knit."
"Uh, right." He muttered, resolving to steal one if he could. "Who are you?" He asked and the elf woman paused to count her stitches.
"I'm Nelliel. But please, call me Nel." She said and Shiro nodded. "And you are?"
"Shiro." He said shortly before glancing at the stuffed rabbit again. "…How did she die?" He probably didn't want to know. It was probably something grotesque.
"She was sick." He blinked at that reply, but he supposed it did make sense. In fact, whores would be more prone to get sick than most people. "Not something from sex. We have charms against that, and when something gets through Grimmjow has it treated." Her voice had a slightly odd note when she mentioned the blue man and Shiro frowned at her. "It was a growth in her belly. When it was clear she was dying and in pain, he did what needed to be done."
"…Uh." Shiro grunted, feeling ambivalent. Grimmjow had murdered that girl in cold blood, but he knew about those growths. One of the servants had had one when he was a kid and they'd finally given him an overdose of laudanum when the pain became too much. "Whatever. I'll get out of here." He said under his breath. But apparently, not quietly enough. Nel laughed, a soft, rippling sound.
"Kitten is too clever for that." She said and Shiro blinked at her. Kitten? "He's very good, very capable. Poor kitten." Nel sounded very sad for a moment and Shiro could only stare at her. Poor kitten? Grimmjow? He suddenly wondered if she was funny in the head. She was an elf, she could have been a slave for decades, even centuries. More than long enough to crack her mind. "But I can see you will have to learn the hard way. Some people are like that… I just hope it isn't too hard on you, and him."
"Yeah, whatever." Shiro shook his head before settling down on his new cot with a small hiss. Grimmjow had given him a hard riding yesterday, trying to 'train' him. He would never be trained.
He had his pride.