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Deicide	By : Need2ScreamNow Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't know, own, or have anything to do with A7x or their significant others. I'm not making any money off this and it's all fiction. Totally made up on a late Friday night.

Chapter List
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Fifteen Years Later

Zack couldn’t smell enough of the dusty air or get tired of the hot sun baking his exposed skin. Rory didn’t let him out often, but since his brother Barik had, once again, complained he didn’t have enough servants to satisfy him Rory had allowed him to tag along while he went to the slave market. Zack stared at everything, committing it all to memory, on the rare occasion he was let out of their palatial home he had never been allowed to go to any market. Rory only ever let him out in the back garden where the massive stone wall could contain him. The three guards that hemmed him in while they walked had the same function.

The market was alive with sound and smells, so many that he didn’t think he would be able to keep walking and take it all in. Vendors shouted their wares, people haggled, and soldiers patrolled the streets and argued chased the rowdy street gangs, horses and mules whinnied and snorted, and cart wheels and hooves clattered across the broken stone road.

“Come on Zack.” Barik said irritably grabbing his arm and dragging him along when he stalled in front of a vendor selling the oddest looking hats. Some had giant plumes of feathers sticking out the back and others were the yellow of sunlight or a green brighter than grass. Zack shook him off after a few steps, Barik was three years younger than him but sometimes he acted like he was older. Zack began to drop back again while he looked at everything there was to see in the busy market.

He stopped again in front of a booth where a puppet show was in progress. The brightly costumed hand puppets knocked each other over the head with sticks and blithely commented on the soldiers surrounding Zack. He giggled and laughed until Barik once again grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “No wonder father never lets you out, you’d never get anything done.” He snapped. Zack didn’t really listen to him, he and Barik had never really gotten along. “Don’t let him stop again, if we don’t get to the auction soon all the good ones will be gone.” Barik told the soldiers. Zack glared at him, “Then you can go to the auction, I would rather look here.”

“Father said you could go to the slave auction, not gawk at all the crap these peasants are selling.” Barik countered scathingly. “And if you try to stop again I’ll let father know just how difficult you were.” He added smugly. Zack’s jaw clenched. If Rory thought he was being difficult he would never let him out again. He followed Barik to the auction block staring at his feet. The day had lost most of its splendor with Barik’s threat. He didn’t want to look at anything, because he wanted to see everything and Barik would be looking for an excuse now to send him home.

He nearly ran into Barik when he stopped at the edge of a thick crowd around a raised platform. “Stay here.” He said rolling his eyes. Zack raised his head some to see where they were. Barik weaved through the crowd to a man holding colored pieces of wood. Up on the platform was a man in a tailored jacket and pants holding the end of a long chain attached to a woman’s neck. She looked out at the crowd fearfully as colored planks of wood were held and waved. The auctioneer called on the different people and shouted the bids back out to the crowd. Barik made his way back with an angry look at Zack. “We’re too late, this is the last of the good ones. Next are the third strikes.” He sulked. Zack ignored him again and tried to see over the crowd to the line of slaves that would be stretched behind the platform. He was hoping there would be quite a few. Third strikes were slaves that had tried to flee from previous masters and one more escape and capture would mean execution. They weren’t used for housework but hard and often fatal labor. Most mines owned third strikers, as well as the road crews. “Let’s go.” Barik said gruffly pulling hard on Zack’s tunic. Zack shook him off, “Father has been meaning to get another laborer to help patch the wall.” He reminded him. Barik paused and then looked at him suspiciously for a long minute before shrugging and returning to his previous position in front of him.

The first three were taken quickly but at a low wager, the fourth man up though brought a round of colored boards into the air before he was even properly cuffed to the platform. Zack stared at him and a pang of longing clenched his heart. Wild onyx hair fanned around a slender almost feline face. Hard, rebellious eyes scanned the crowd and when the auction assistants pulled his tunic off he saw his sinewy body was covered in scars and brandings. Almost at once all of the colored boards disappeared when the extent of his rebellious nature was revealed. Each scar and branding a sign of punishment. “Him.” Zack whispered never taking his eyes off the battered man. Barik turned and looked at him, “What?” he asked incredulously. “Him. Get him.” Zack said again. Barik actually laughed out loud, “Absolutely not, look at him. He’ll try to escape in a week. I’m not paying good money for a slave that will only have to be put down before he’s worked off his debt.” He shook his head and turned around again. Several people nearby nodded in agreement and gave Zack disapproving looks. Zack ignored them and tried to come up with some argument to buy this man. If no one made a bid on him he would be taken off the block and be executed before the day was done. The auctioneer looked over the crowd hopefully but the boards were gone and the slave smirked coldly. Recklessly, Zack grabbed the colored board from Barik’s loose grip and held it up, “Ten!” he shouted. Barik nearly tackled him to the ground to get the board back. No one else in the crowd contested his bid and the auctioneer quickly awarded the slave to the highest bid and moved on to the next one. “You will never leave the house again!” Barik seethed. Zack picked himself up and for once the threat didn’t bother him. He had his dark haired man. “I don’t know how you think you’re going to pay for him. You’re not getting any money from me. Father wanted a good slave, not this trash.” He sneered. Zack ignored him and pushed his way through the crowd quickly with the three guards scrambling to catch up with his quick steps.

At the foot of the platform the accountant looked up when Zack approached, he looked him over and hid a smile. “Ten for Brian.” He said with a smirk just touching his lips. Next to him two beefy men held the angry man. Zack nodded and absently gave the man the coins Rory had given him before they left. He had told Zack to buy something that pleased him. “You can let him go.” He said softly. The accountant and the two men stared at Zack and then roared with laughter, “He’ll be gone before you can blink.” The accountant laughed. Zack stared at the man, his walnut brown eyes were wary and intelligent. “Please, let him go.” Zack asked again. The men stopped laughing. “Honestly son,” the accountant said, “he’s not some tame dog that’s going to follow you home. He’ll run the minute he has a chance.”

“Then I will have to deal with that, now please, let him go.” He said finally looking away from the man. The accountant stared at him and then shrugged, “It’s your money.” And he nodded to the two men, they held a second longer and then shrugged and stepped back. Brian didn’t move. The three men stared at him and then looked at Zack, Zack held out his hand and Brian’s eyes trailed down his arm and after a second he reached out and took it. “My name is Zack.” He said softly. Brian’s eyes found his again, he was still wary but there was also a glimmer of curiosity in those dark depths. Zack could feel many pairs of eyes on them and his cheeks were brushed with red. Brian smirked again but it was gentler and Zack smiled back and gently pulled on his hand. He followed willingly and Zack dropped his hand after a few steps to better maneuver through the crowd and Brian followed him like a tame dog the entire way.

xXx

He knew he would be in trouble when they got home. Barik was deeply upset with him and would tell Rory all of his transgressions and he would probably not be allowed to leave his room, much less the house, for quite some time. He cringed at that thought but only a step behind him Brian quietly walked and that warmed him.

They trudged up the hill to the house, more of a fortress really, it had been built over the home Rory had grown up in. The small two room shack had been transformed into a ten room palace surrounded by thick stone walls eight feet high. Over the years the adjacent farm had also been absorbed into their sprawling land. The entire hill was walled off from the rest of Mozaik and well trained soldiers patrolled the walls inside and out.

Rory had named himself governor of Mozaik, so the story went, after he and a brave group of men toppled the tyrannical gods that had held Mozaik hostage for generations. He had rescued Zack from their dungeon, not that he remembered any of it. Zack had once heard the elder slaves whispering behind his back on the occasion he was allowed out of his room how much he resembled someone named Zaksha. He had asked Rory about him only once and been beaten so severely he still had nightmares. He hadn’t told him who he had heard the name from terrified of inflicting his wrath on the slaves. Rory had sold almost all of them to a local mine and bought new, younger slaves. Rory had used the wealth from the taxes and the gods’ plundered temple to build himself his fortress home and even found a woman and had, Barik, a real son and heir to his position and wealth. With the birth of Barik, Zack had become more of a showpiece while Rory groomed his legitimate son to lead Mozaik.

Zack trudged through the gate and sighed inwardly as he approached the large bronze double doors that led inside. Behind the house a platoon of slaves labored in the expansive fields, nursing the weak grain to health with water and tearing weeds out. Off to the western side of the fortress were a series of matching shacks where, eventually, they would all retire for the night. Soldiers on patrol stared hard at Brian and Zack could feel his hackles rising. He reached back and gently took his hand and almost immediately he settled again.

“Go to your room Zack. Father will deal with you shortly.” Barik snapped marching off to the study area once the bronze doors closed behind them. Zack glared at him and took Brian’s hand again and went to his room with a smug smile. All new slaves were to be taken immediately to the bath house to be cleaned and he did feel a little guilty not giving Brian a chance to clean himself but he didn’t really want to be away from him. The house slaves stopped in surprise when Zack padded past with Brian in tow and he knew the gossip would probably get to Rory before Barik.

The room at the end of the hallway was his and he hesitated at the threshold, he didn’t want to go in. He was so tired of staring at the same walls, pacing the same trails in the floor. But he had Brian with him now and with a sigh he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Inside it was somewhat dim, the two small windows high on the walls only caught the fading light of sunset and the weak light of sunrise so for the rest of the time he kept candles lit. The tapestries on the wall were abstract colors and designs and he spent most of his time staring at them trying to come up with different shapes he saw in them. The cool stone floor was covered with thick rugs that had been tamped down by his incessant pacing. His bed was pushed against the eastern wall so he could stand on it and look out the window in the morning. It also had the best view of the front gate and sometimes, like tomorrow night, it would be left open for all the dignitaries coming to have dinner. Zack wasn’t at all thrilled with having another dinner party but with the gates open he could see the road and any passerby.

“This is your cage?” Brian said softly Zack looked up at him and cocked his head to the side. “It’s my room.” He said. Brian pointed to the trampled rugs, a trail worn deep into them pacing from door to window to window. “Your cage.” He said simply. Zack sighed and nodded, “If I call it a cage I really will go mad.” He murmured. Before Brian could say anything else the door was opened so hard it banged against the wall. Zack jumped at the loud sound and Brian stood in front of him protectively. “Zachary? What have you done? What is a slave doing in your room!” Rory demanded. Zack laid a gentling hand on Brian’s back and carefully stepped around him while he gathered his thoughts. “You said yesterday you needed help with patching the wall.” He said softly. Rory stood in front of him glowering down at him, “I will decide what kind of help I need. This third strike is absolutely worthless! He can’t be left to fix the wall, the wall that keeps him in. He’ll run the moment the guards turn their backs!” He smacked him hard across the face but Zack kept his feet and stared at the ground. “Yes, father.” He murmured. Rory snapped his fingers, “Get rid of him.” He said disgustedly as he strode out. Zack’s head shot up, “No!” He stepped back and blocked the soldiers from Brian. Rory stopped in the doorway and stared at Zack in disbelief. “Are you arguing with me?” he asked dangerously. Zack swallowed nervously but refused to let the guards have Brian. “I bought him. He’s mine.” He said softly. Rory walked back into the room and smacked him again. “You bought him with the coin I gave you. My coin. Therefore, he is mine.” he snarled. Zack stared at the floor and swallowed again, “You said to buy something that makes me happy and I did and now you’ll take him away?” he murmured. Rory paused and deflated some. “I didn’t mean a third striker.” He barked. Zack looked up at him under his lashes and Rory lost more of his steam, “He can’t be trusted Zack,” he said with a gentler tone, “I can’t have guards watching him day and night, they have other duties.” Zack dropped his eyes again and didn’t say anything. Rory sighed with frustration after a moment, “He’ll be yours for now Zachary. But if he steps out of line, he will be mine and I will deal with him accordingly.” He warned. “Now, go get him cleaned.” He said and snapped his fingers again as he strode out the door and the guards swiftly followed.

Zack let out a shaky sigh and looked up as soon as the door clicked closed. He turned around and found Brian shaking with fury. “Brian?” he whispered cautiously taking his hand. Brian’s strong fingers wrapped around his, “He had no reason to strike you.” He seethed. Zack shrugged, “I made him angry, I’m sure Barik exaggerated most of what he told him as well. He doesn’t do it often.” He tugged on his hand and Brian stiffly followed.

Zack was thrilled he was allowed outside again, twice in one day was unheard of and he planned on dragging it out as long as possible. He took the long way to the bath house, weaving between the kitchen herb gardens and telling Brian about the fortress and the few house rules he knew. The hard dusty soil stirred around their feet and left a dusty wake behind them. The herbs were in desperate need of water, they drooped under the weight of their own stalks and the ground around them was cracked. Brian looked over the pitiful stalks, “They must water every hour to keep them so green.” He murmured. Zack paused and looked at the herbs and shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m not often let out of my…room.” Brian raised an eyebrow when he heard the slight pause but continued, “In all the fields and gardens I’ve worked in usually every other plant or so is dead. All of these are green. How many slaves are there?” his eyes scanned the fields and Zack looked out too, “I don’t know how many are in the field, but inside there are twelve.”

The slave’s bath house wasn’t as indulgent as the household one. While the one inside was meant more for pampering this one was meant to get the job done and little else. Rocks were kept hot on a smoldering fire to be thrown in to the freezing river water when the bath was filled to warm it some. Various scrub brushes were stacked neatly on an uneven shelf on the other side of the small room. A small porthole in each wall allowed for meager sunlight to slip through. It was hot and damp and smelled of algae and Zack paused in the doorway and wrinkled his nose. “I changed my mind.” He said turning and leading him back through the maze of gardens. Brian followed quietly and once they were inside again Zack took the long way to the bath, not only to prolong the inevitable but also to avoid Rory and Barik. Slaves weren’t allowed to use the indoor bath and he didn’t want to cross Rory again.

He peeked in the room and then slipped in and quietly shut the door. Brian cautiously looked over the opulent room. Rory had spared no expense with the room, the bath itself was rose colored marble and the room was tiled with white and gold porcelain tiles. There was a shelf full of glass bottles containing exotic smelling shampoos and soaps. On another shelf were lotions and brushes. Brian looked into the empty bath and then at Zack with a raised eyebrow. Zack giggled and pulled a chain hanging from the ceiling near the door. Immediately panels opened at the top of the bath and steaming water cascaded into the bowl. Brian stepped back in surprise and Zack smiled and began picking through the different soaps and shampoos while Brian pulled his dirty tunic off. Cautiously he stepped into the hot water and sat down with a quiet sigh. Zack sat behind him and handed him a soft brush and a bottle of soap while he poured a fair amount of shampoo into his hand. “Duck your head.” He murmured, Brian went under and came up again quickly. Zack lathered his hair and probably spent more time than necessary trying to untangle it but it was surprisingly soft and Brian didn’t ask him to stop.

Layer by layer the dirt began to come off and Zack found his skin was actually two shades lighter than he thought, closer to fresh cream than golden wheat. Brian finally ducked under the water again and his hair came up shining. Zack reached down and gently ran his fingers across his shoulders; raw red lines interrupted the beautiful skin of his broad shoulders. “These are fresh.” He whispered, “Who hurt you?” he said louder, angrier. Brian laughed humorlessly, “I’m a slave Zachary, everyone has hurt me.” Zack clenched his jaw and continued to stroke the back of his shoulders. The tight knotted muscles began to loosen as his fingers ran over them and Brian made a small pleasured sound. Zack ran his fingers through his soft hair again and massaged his scalp, Brian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. One hand slid down the side of his neck and down his chest, running over old scars and burns and back up again to trace the hard definition of his shoulder blade. “Why does this feel familiar?” he whispered to himself. Brian’s eyes opened and the chocolate brown met his, “Familiar?” he asked. Zack ran his hands over his shoulders again and felt his cheeks flush some, “I—I don’t know. It just, I feel like I’ve done this before.” Brian’s eyes fluttered closed again and his only comment was a relaxed sigh.

Zack shook himself after a few minutes and pulled his hands away, “We need to go, sometimes Rory likes to soak when he’s angry. If he catches us in here we’ll both be in trouble.” He murmured. Brian roused himself and carefully got out of the bath and began drying himself with the soft cloth Zack gave him. Zack pulled another chain hanging from the ceiling and with a quiet gurgle the water began to drain. “Oh, I should’ve asked Nannette to bring a new tunic.” He said contritely. Brian shrugged easily, “This is the cleanest I’ve been since I can remember, wearing a dirty tunic isn’t going to bother me.” Zack still didn’t look appeased but led the way out of the room.

“Master Zachary.” A quiet feminine voice called from a radiating hallway when they were nearly to Zack’s room. Zack stopped and beamed as the older lady met him at the junction of the hallways. The woman was obviously a slave, her dress was a simple brown color and a dark green apron covered her front. Her sleeves were rolled up revealing strong sinewy forearms lightly tanned from work outside. “Nannette.” Zack hugged her and inquired about her day and rapidly told her about a hat merchant he had seen. Brian watched the two with confusion, he had never met anyone like Zack. Masters, as a general rule, only spoke to their slaves when the wanted something or if they were dealing out punishment. And yet, here Zack was, obviously from the family of nobility but he spoke to Brian and this woman Nannette as if they were equals. “Nannette, this is Brian.” He said softly. The woman looked him over with a critical eye and then nodded, “Welcome.” She said shortly. Zack looked almost sheepishly at her, “I forgot to get him another tunic.” Nannette laughed shortly, “I see that. I’ll take care of him, you’d best get back to your room before Master Rory sees you still out and about.” She finished much less jovial. Zack seemed to collapse in on himself and he nodded and quietly trudged toward the open door. Nannette watched him go with something akin to pain in her eyes before covering it and turning to Brian with a business air. “Now, let’s get you some decent clothes.” She led the way quickly down the hall she had come from and Brian followed a bit slower.

“From the rumors buzzing around here I heard you are a third strike?” She asked turning into a room that smelled of steam and soap. “I am.” Brian said challengingly. His third strike status usually meant the well-behaved house slaves could torment him without repercussions. If he acted against them he would be executed and they could go about their lives. “I expect no trouble out of you, especially since Zack has taken to you like he has. We in the house will leave you be unless you hurt little Zachary. If that happens I’ll cut your throat myself, understood?” She said pulling out a fresh light brown tunic. Brian pulled his dirty one off and quickly slipped it on. Even though it was a slave’s tunic it was soft and light unlike the coarse bags he had been wearing. “I understand.” He said slowly. “Good. Now, return to him and you’ll do whatever he asks of you or Master Rory will be hearing about it.” She ordered. Brian bristled some at the order but turned and left to find Zack’s room. He didn’t really care at all she had ordered him to Zack’s side, he would’ve gone there anyway even if she had told him to go to the fields.

Zack was sitting on his bed staring at a wall tapestry and lit up immediately when Brian entered. “You look much more comfortable.” He said smiling. Brian offered his own tiny smile, “How may I serve you?” usually the words chaffed him but for Zack he sincerely meant it. Zack’s smile faltered and his eyes fell to the floor, “I, um, I’m okay.” He said softly. Brian took slow steps toward him and kneeled on the floor, “Zachary?” he whispered. Zack’s green eyes flicked to his and then away again. Brian’s breath caught at the pain he saw there, shattering loneliness. He rose up and cupped Zack’s face with his hands, “What…what is it Zachary?” he asked breathlessly. Not even in the most jaded of slaves had he seen such pain. Zack turned his head into his hands and slid off the bed onto the floor. He was nearly in Brian’s lap and the slave dropped one of his hands to rest lightly on his hip to keep him balanced. Carefully, Zack leaned his head forward to rest on his shoulder and Brian wrapped his arms around him. He closed his eyes as the warmth of the smaller man’s body began to bleed through his tunic. Zack’s arms rested loosely around his hips and his breath was slow and warm against his neck. He could stay like this all day, he could lay back and let Zack’s body sprawl over his and they could sleep the day and night. “Familiar.” He whispered; Zack’s head nodded slightly and he sighed contently.

“Zack.” He asked after a few minutes. The other man’s head moved slightly but that was the only indication he had that he had heard. “Can I…my legs are tingling, I need to move.” He murmured. Zack started to pull away but he held him fast, “No, don’t get up.” He whispered. Zack relaxed against him again and Brian pulled him closer and leaned back until he could uncurl his legs and stretch out. Zack’s body was warm and heavy on top of his and he squirmed around until his head was tucked under his chin and his body fit snugly against his. “Familiar.” He murmured when he was comfortable. Brian felt his eyes closing more and more and longer and longer until he finally succumbed to sleep with Zack curled against him.

A light sleeper out of necessity Brian was awake and tense when the small knock on the door shattered the silence. Zack raised his head sleepily and then lowered it again, “What’s wrong?” he murmured. Before Brian could answer there was the heavy jangle of keys and the rattle of a lock and Zack jumped up so quickly it took a second for Brian to realize his weight was gone. He sat up and crossed his legs and watched Zack carefully while the door opened. His flustered wake up was covered and he didn’t seem surprised at all by the guard opening the door and standing at attention eyeing Brian. Brian stared right back at him even as Nannette walked in followed by two girls holding trays. Zack smiled but didn’t say anything, Nannette flashed her own smile but the room stayed silent and a touch tense. Zack sat on the floor next to Brian close enough their shoulders touched and Brian broke his eyes away from the guard to look at him. Masters didn’t sit on the floor, not unless they were too young to walk and even then they were carried and set in a chair. He watched the guard from the corner of his eye and saw a disgruntled look on his face. The serving girls set the trays down on the small table and quickly bowed and left. Nannette lingered a moment longer asking if anything else was needed before she bowed and backed out of the room. The guard cast another look at Brian before he closed the door and the keys jangled again and the lock slid home.

“They lock you in?” he asked incredulously. Zack leaned against him and Brian reclined some to let the other man lay across his lap. “It keeps me from wandering.” He murmured. Brian shook his head disgusted, “What are you to him? A son or something he can show off.” Zack sighed and sat up, “Are you hungry?” he asked changing the subject. Brian didn’t answer, “Everyone knows what you are; his pretty jaguar to keep in a cage and show his friends.”

“Brian.” The soft word had him clamping his mouth shut in a way that would have pleased his previous masters. Zack stared at the floor quiet and small in the middle of his luxurious cage. Brian slowly got to his feet and gently tipped his head up, Zack didn’t look at him. His eyes slid to the side and stayed on the floor and in those beautiful emerald eyes the pain was back. Brian swallowed tightly, he had done that, hurt him like that. He cupped his cheek and pulled him against him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He whispered. Zack’s arms hesitantly wrapped around his waist again and his body relaxed against him. “I’m sorry.” Brian murmured again resting his head on his shoulder. Zack stayed quiet for a moment and then turned his head so his breath blew against his neck, “Are you hungry?” he murmured. Brian held him close and smiled, “A little.” Zack lifted his head and slowly pulled his arms back and turned to the table. Brian stood a step back waiting for an order or, better yet, for Zack to turn around and press against him again.

Zack turned around again after a moment but he was holding a plate and Brian stepped back so he could sit where he pleased. Zack stared at him and Brian stared back, “What?” he finally asked. Masters were easy to figure out; they fell into only a few categories: Brutal and stupid, brutal and smart, just plain stupid, or vain and stupid. Zack didn’t fit into any of those categories though, he was gentle and naïve. Zack blinked and held the plate out further, “You said you were hungry.” He said simply. Brian looked at the plate and then at Zack, he was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open but he couldn’t find it in him to close it. Zack gave him a curious look, “Nannette is a wonderful cook. If you don’t eat it soon it will be cold.” He added. Numbly Brian reached out and took the plate, for a brief second he imagined Zack would jerk the plate away and punish him for being so forward. Slaves didn’t look at the Master’s dishes much less touch them. And here Zack was not only offering him a plate but expecting him to eat from it. He swallowed nervously, he may snap and snarl at the guards but he didn’t enjoy punishment and he would suffer if someone came in and saw him with the plate. Zack made his own plate and sat on the floor again. Brian stared at him; his world was slowly rotating to stand on its head all because of this one beautiful green eyed man. Zack blinked up at him, “What’s wrong?” Brian opened his mouth but nothing came out and concern clouded Zack’s eyes, “Do you not eat beef? I know one of the kitchen girls doesn’t either. I can have Nannette fix you something else.” He said hopefully. Out of his open mouth laughter bubbled out of him, breathless, frightened, and a little hysterical. “You don’t deal with slaves do you?” he asked. Zack was still staring at him with concern and Brian sank to the floor again. “Zachary I…I can’t.” he stopped and stared at his curious face. How did he explain what it meant for him to be holding this plate to someone so innocent? He shook his head, “Never mind.” He couldn’t do that to Zack, someone so pure shouldn’t have to know about the ugliness of the world. Zack still looked worried and Brian moved a little closer to him. “I’m fine, just…getting used to new rules.” He assured. Zack watched him a moment and deep in those green eyes flashed a sharp intelligence, he knew he had done something to throw him off he just hadn’t worked out what it was yet. Brian bit into a slice of tender veal and added another category; smart and loving.

Brian put his clean plate back on the tray only seconds before the lock scraped open and Rory charged in with two guards. Brian felt his face pale and he stepped back from the table. Zack, who apparently liked to study and then slowly eat his food was only halfway done with his meal and blinked in surprise when Rory came in snorting like an angry bull. “Zack! Zachary, what? Why? Get off the floor!” he finally yelled. Zack cowered back but didn’t get off the floor he stared at Rory frightened and the big man ran a hand down his face and evened his breathing. “Zachary,” he said in a tightly controlled voice, “why are you eating on the floor like some peasant?” he asked. Zack looked down and then back at Rory, “I’m not allowed to sit on the floor?” he asked innocently. “No!” Rory yelled again and Zack flinched back. Rory covered his eyes for a moment with his hand and then spoke again in his tight voice, “The floor is for those not worthy enough for a chair, Zachary. You will sit in a chair, always.” He explained. Brian ached to wrap his arms around him; he was so gentle he didn’t need Rory to yell at him for something that no one else would ever see. It’s not like anyone but the house slaves ever saw him. Zack slowly stood and sat at the table but didn’t look at Rory. “Now Zachary, I’m not angry with you.” Rory said gently. Zack looked up and Rory offered him a genuine smile, “There are things you mustn’t do when you are Master of your own house; sitting on the floor is one of them. Now finish your meal, Nannette will be in soon to outfit you for the party tomorrow.”

Zack stayed at the table until the lock was in place again and then returned to the floor. Brian cautiously sat next to him again and watched the door. “Not allowed to sit on the floor.” Zack muttered shaking his head. “I’ve always sat on the floor, it’s more comfortable than the chair and those evil couches we have to recline on tomorrow.” He said picking at his food. “You’re part of the Master’s family Zack, only slaves and the lower class sit on the floor.” Brian said gently. Zack cocked his head to the side, “Why?” he asked simply. Brian opened his mouth to answer and slowly closed it again. He had no idea. He had questioned a lot of things and been beaten for most of them but he had never once thought about why he had to sit on the floor and his Masters didn’t. “Because you’re greater than me.” He said weakly. Zack’s brow furrowed and he finally at another bite, “Why?” he asked again. “What makes me better than you?” Brian searched the room as if some piece of silk would have the answer to his complicated question. “Because you are nobility, upper class, and I’m not.” He answered pathetically. He knew immediately that Zack didn’t buy it. “I was found wandering the streets just like any other peasant boy and now I’m expected to sit in a chair all the time because I’m dressed in silk?”

“I don’t know Zack.” Brian said finally, “I…it’s just the way things are.” Zack shook his head, “Then maybe things should change.” He said taking another bite.

xXx

A/n: All right! Another chapter! By the way, if you see any “Syns” in this chapter, please let me know. I’ve read over it twice but I just have this nagging feeling one slipped out somewhere.

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Deicide