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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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The next morning Brian woke with a numb shoulder and a sore back. He groaned softly and rolled off his shoulder to his painful back. There was no one to blame but himself for the pain and that irritated him some but the small discomforts would fade before the sun was high. “Why are you on the floor?” Zack asked looking over the side of the bed. He wasn’t quite awake yet, his green eyes half lidded and closing frequently as sleep and wakefulness warred. Brian sat up and rolled his neck, no matter how nice the rugs there was still a hard stone floor under them he thought as muscles refused to stretch. “I…usually wake up early. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He didn’t think Zack would accept that weak excuse but his disbelief would give him a moment to come up with something more concrete. Zack didn’t say anything but his sleepy look took on the faintest overtone of exasperation. “Yes, sleeping on the uncomfortable floor usually wakes one up very early.” He deadpanned. Brian bit his tongue and then sighed. “Zack…I can’t sleep in your bed.” He admitted. Zack crossed his arms under his chin and canted his head inquiringly. “It’s the same thing as you not being able to sit on the floor.” He explained a little more. Zack snorted, “horse shit.” It was simple, crude and unexpected. Brian clapped a hand over his mouth with a loud guffaw of laughter erupted out of him. Zack giggled and rolled away from the edge and Brian got to his feet testing stiff joints and stretching various kinks and cramps. Zack was curled on his side drifting into sleep again and Brian boldly ran his work scored fingers down his cheek. Zack’s breathing slowed and Brian thought he was asleep again until the lock rattled and his eyes flicked open. Brian stepped back and watched the door warily but Zack seemed more curious than fearful. Like the day before a guard came in first and kept his gaze fixed on Brian and coming in behind him was Nannette. Zack perked up when he saw her and she smiled despite her harried appearance. “Master Zachary, I was wondering if I had your permission to use Brian for the morning? Master Rory has sent most of my kitchen girls to market for extra things.” Zack blinked and then nodded, “Of course.” He said softly. Brian was certain if the guard hadn’t been standing there she would have hugged Zack until he begged for air. Instead she bowed deeply, “Thank you Master Zachary.” When she straightened she pegged Brian with a look that didn’t leave room for disobedience. He bowed to Zack and then followed Nannette and the guard grinding his teeth. He would rather spend the day sitting in Zack’s cage than preparing food.

“Have you ever done kitchen work before?” Nannette asked briskly once the door was closed and locked and the guard gone. “Yes, when I was young.” Brian answered a touch arrogantly. He was a rare thing, a slave that had filled every job for at least a few months. He had worked household, fields, and stables in every position they could come up with while they tried to break him. Nannette didn’t seem impressed and once they were in the kitchen she pointed to a flour covered table that had various bowls and pitches scattered on it. “Do you remember how to make bread?” She asked with undertones of sarcasm, maybe she had detected his arrogance. He narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer but went over to the table and started putting ingredients into a bowl.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, Nannette rubbing spices onto several chunks of meat that would later be put on coals until they were served at supper. Brian took the time to look over the spacious kitchen. It could easily accommodate seven working people. Counting the bread table where he was working there were two other tables, the meat table where Nannette was hacking a ribcage into more manageable pieces, and another one that had vegetables, fruits and grains piled on it. There were each at least two men long and one wide and made of sturdy oak and walnut. The flagstone floor was worn smooth by the passage of many feet and the walls were blackened with soot from the dozen of blazing torches. The hearth and fireplace were big enough to roast a full bull and maybe a small hog at the same time and the fire was popping and climbing up the chimney. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades and down his temple while he punched and kneaded the stiff dough.

“Where else have you worked?” Nannette asked. Brian stuffed the dough into an iron trough, “Everywhere.” He grunted picking the heavy thing up and setting it on coals scraped out from the inferno. The fire was hot enough to singe his arms. “Everywhere is a lot of places.” Nannette said in the same disbelieving way Zack did. Brian returned to the bread table and started the bread making process over again. “What about you? I assume you’ve been with Zack since he was young.” He didn’t like talking about himself, especially with slaves he didn’t know that could run to their Master and give them reason to hurt him. He didn’t think Nannette was that kind of slave, but sometimes it was hard to tell. “Yes, I’m one of only five or so that took care of little Zachary.” There was fondness in her voice and Brian felt himself warming to her a little more. Slaves always put up a happy façade when Masters were near but if she truly didn’t like Zack she would say so here in the kitchen without anyone else around. “He hasn’t changed much.” She continued, “He loved to help in the garden, I swear anything that boy touched grew twice as big and he always wanted to make bread.” She chuckled, “Once he made so many loaves we didn’t have to bake any for three days. His hair was absolutely white with flour.” Brian joined in her quiet laughter. “When Rory married and had Barik he started keeping Zack in his room more and more.” His voice lost its humor and became melancholy, “Zack used to wander the fields pulling weeds and things. Rory indulged him because he was young and, at the time, his heir but once Barik was born he didn’t have time to watch him. He wandered outside of the wall one day, it took us until nightfall to find him and that’s when Rory decided he was safer locked in his room. I had hoped it was only temporary but that’s where he’s been that last eight years.” Brian punched the dough a little harder than necessary. “So with a legitimate heir Zack became his showpiece.” He said hitting the dough again. Maybe he could help in the kitchen more often. He had forgotten how therapeutic bread making was. “I had a Mistress that was fond of exotic things. She sent out dozens of men to bring her pretty things from the wild. Her favorite was the jaguar. She had a cage built for it where she held her supper parties, it was close enough to the table we could feel its breath on our legs as we served. It started out as this raving mad cat that attacked the walls and disfigured the slave who was chosen to feed her but after a few months she just paced and paced and paced. She wore a groove in the floor.” He thought of the trampled carpets in Zack’s room and wondered if he was pacing them again. “Then she stopped doing even that and spent the day chewing her tail or her paws until the fur was gone and her cage bloody; then she would sit and stare. There was a window directly across from her cage and she just stared. She stopped eating, stopped drinking and after six months she was dead.” He put the dough in another iron trough and hefted it over to the fireplace. “That’s…that’s horrifying.” Nannette whispered. She wasn’t working on the meat anymore but staring at him. He rubbed his red arms and stared back, “That’s what Zack reminds me of. He’s locked in his cage and left to pace and tear himself apart just so Rory can have something pretty to show his guests.” He said angrily.

Nannette glanced over her shoulder at the empty doorway. “We do what we can to help him.” She said softly, “But we’re kept busy.” She wiped her forehead with her sleeve and when she dropped her arm her eyes were red. “There’s not a day goes by I don’t remember him running around this kitchen playing in the flour or running out to get me things from the garden. This house has lost its life with him locked away in there.” She turned back to her preparation but continued talking in a hard voice. “Barik’s the worst. Rory and his mother spoiled him beyond redemption and after she died it only got worse. Now he’s…” she finished the sentence with a low growl and Brian went back to the bread table. “I noticed.” He said drily thinking back on the day before and the long walk to the compound. “Barik harasses Zack every chance he gets, it’s almost a blessing he’s locked in his room all day. If he was free to wander Barik would be at him like a hound on a fox. I never understood how Zack could stay so sweet and Barik became a rotten little hellion.”

“Zack didn’t get a chance to become a rotten little hellion.” He said offhandedly. Nannette snorted, “He absolutely did. He could have asked for anything and Rory would have gotten it for him. Even now Rory spoils him, hence the reason you’ve still got your head.” She said matter-of-factly. Brian grimaced, he would keep that in mind. “Zack could ask for his own fortress and a hundred slaves and Rory would have it all within the day.” She continued. “He doesn’t ask for those things though,” she sighed, “he wants to do what he did when he was little. Play in the garden and help in the kitchen and Rory just can’t stand the thought of his adopted son doing slave work, much less woman’s work. It was cute when he was five but now that he’s nearly twenty-one summers old…”

“How did Rory come to own Mozaik?” he changed the subject, talking about Zack was both enlightening and depressing. He wanted to help his gentle Master but aside from giving him company there wasn’t anything else he could do. Nannette sighed, but it was more a sigh of resigning herself to telling a complicated story than one of frustration or anger. “Fifteen years ago Rory, along with a band of thirty or so men stormed the palace of the gods.” She paused, waiting for Brian’s disbelief. “Horse shit.” He said thinking of Zack. Nannette chuckled. “Yes it sounds like myth but it seems true enough. Rory has a dagger in the dining room, it’s the most beautiful thing, sapphire and diamonds in the handle and the blade almost glows. It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before or since. Anyway, so the story goes, there was a great battle and all but Rory, Nik, and Koil were killed. You’ll meet Nik and Koil at supper tonight, they’re almost as beastly as Barik. They killed the gods and as they pillaged the palace happened upon a cellar full of people meant to be sacrificed at the next festival. Zack was among them and Rory decided to adopt him. They all came down the mountain and Rory told his story, showing the knife as proof, and named himself the new governor. No one argued and he’s been in charge ever since.”

“I find any of that hard to believe.” Brian said after a brief silence. Nannette chuckled, “It does sound ridiculous, but the only other ones who know what happened are Nik and Koil and their stories are exactly the same.” Brian took a third iron trough to the fire and Nannette followed with a hank of meat in an iron skillet surrounded by vegetables. “Rory informed me this morning he’s invited three more people to dinner and they happen to be absolutely ravenous.” It sounded more like she was talking out her frustration more than talking to him so he didn’t comment. “Barik will want the kitchen girls in his bed and his horrid companions will be over after the noon meal and they’ll want the kitchen girls as well. So it’ll be put to me to finish the meal and dress everyone. This supper is going to be a disaster.” She concluded. “I can take care of Zack.” Brian said quietly. Nannette was at his table now mixing dough and she seemed to be re-evaluating him, “You know a lot.” She said without stopping what she was doing with her hands. Brian shrugged and joined her at the table. “What now?” he asked. She looked at the fire while chewing her bottom lip, “I need to make at least three meat pies, you can mix up the dough for that and by the time you’re done the fire will be low enough for you to put meat on the spit.” He nodded and once again started putting ingredients in a bowl.

“How is it you came to know so many trades?” She asked. Brian shrugged carelessly, “I was born a slave.” The answer was ambiguous; most slaves were born into servitude. Nannette snorted, “Born a slave and now a third strike. Unbreakable.” She said decisively. Brian didn’t comment. “I’ll give you Zack’s things and you can get him ready. Supper will be around sunset.”

“I can stay in here and help. I don’t know how to make the finer things but I can mix and chop ingredients.” He offered. Nannette sighed wistfully, “I wish you could but I had to beg Rory just to get you while the kitchen girls are gone. I doubt he’ll extend your service to all day.”

Brian was escorted out of the kitchen before the sun was high. He and Nannette managed to get the main course on track to being finished in time, but after Nannette had told him the menu for the night he too concluded the dinner was doomed. The guard shoved him into Zack’s room, Zack broke his fall with a tight hug. The door closed a little harder than necessary and the lock clanged home. After a moment of surprise Brian hesitantly hugged him back and then tightened his hold. Zack’s body molded against his and a soft sigh blew against his neck. “Is Nannette all right? I’ve never seen her so upset.” He murmured. Brian loosened his hold some hoping Zack would as well, it was both comforting and disorienting hugging him. “Zachary, we need to get you ready for dinner.” He said, still trying to step away from the smaller man. The lock rattled and Brian finally jerked Zack’s hands away and jumped away from him. Like the day before Rory charged in like an infuriated bull and locked onto Brian.

A fist slammed into his stomach, just below the ribcage and he dropped to his knees dizzy and gasping. Another hit had him sprawled out on the floor tasting blood. Sound was muffled, like they were speaking underwater and his vision faded in and out. A heavy foot came down on his back and then he was jerked to his knees again by his hair. Strong fingers, like coils of hard metal locked around his throat and squeezed until he kicked out instinctively. The fingers released him and a ham sized fist smashed into his stomach. He dropped to the floor gasping and choking on vomit. Sound started to return and Rory’s thunderous roar vibrated his eardrums, the words were still garbled. He rolled onto his stomach again and threw up, his breathing was labored as a hard running horse. A shadow cast over him and he braced for another blow, none came though and words started to come through. Above Rory’s angry bellow was another more malicious voice. Rory had volume but the other voice cut through his noise like a hot knife through fat. “You have no reason to hurt him.”

“He touched you!”

“I touched him. And I will touch him anytime I please.” Cold and hard the voice sent a chill through him. He chanced opening his eyes and found Zack standing in front of him staring Rory down.

“He’s a third strike, he’s already warped you. Sitting on the floor, touching, did you let him sleep in your bed too?” Rory snapped. Zack crossed his arms and straightened his back, “I have always sat on the floor, you have no problems when I touch Nannette, and who I invite into my bed is none of your concern. Barik takes—” he didn’t get to finish as Rory, built like an ox, launched himself at Zack knocking him back against the wall. Zack squeaked in fright and then screamed when Rory struck him. Brian snarled but couldn’t lift himself more than a couple inches. A guard put a boot on his neck and he couldn’t breathe again. A raspy growl worked its way out and the hard end of a lance slammed down into his kidneys. Rory stepped back and Zack stayed cowering on the floor. “Get the third strike.” He barked. Zack’s head raised and Rory turned on him with a growl and Zack’s head dropped again. Two guards roughly hauled him up and dragged him out.

Zack stayed huddled on the floor long after Rory left. Rory had smacked him before, but he’d never full out attacked him like that. His breath hiccupped again and new tears fell as his sore body protested his harsh breathing. He’d never stood up to Rory before either, so his pain was really his fault. That didn’t help though. Brian was gone and hurt and Rory was probably hurting him more. He started crying again and whimpered when the lock jangled. “Ma…Master Zachary,” Nannette’s sweet voice was followed by Rory’s gruff growl. “Zachary you need to get ready for supper. Guests will be arriving soon.” He ordered. Zack didn’t move but curled in on himself even more. “Zachary, get up!” Rory roared. He grabbed his arm and dragged him up, Zack didn’t resist but cried harder until Rory let him go. “Stop crying Zachary. You well know you misbehaved.” His voice was still gruff but it wasn’t as angry. Zack trembled and hugged himself still crying. “Zachary, come now Zachary.” The brusque tone was gone completely and he gently hugged him. “Zachary you’re all right. I’m sorry.” Zack sniffed but stayed quiet. Rory pulled back and searched his face, “Do you want your third strike back?” he asked quietly. Zack froze, he wanted Brian back more than anything, but he was afraid if he said yes Rory would think he was too attached and take him away permanently. His fear must have shown. Rory’s face crumpled some and he hugged him again. “Get him ready Nannette. Your third strike will be back once he’s bandaged.” And with that he left.

Once the door was locked Nannette hugged Zack tightly. “It’s all right, love. It’s all right.” She whispered. Zack sniffled and hugged her back, “Where’s Brian?” he whimpered. “According to some of the staff he took ten lashings but…” she kissed his cheek when more tears fell, “you know what kind of gossip they like to spread.” Zack nodded but he wasn’t feeling better. Nannette wiped the tears away, “Come now little bird, you need to get ready or he’ll be angry again.” She coaxed. Zack pulled his dark green tunic off and took the gauzy white one Nannette handed him. It slipped on easily and the uncomfortable feeling of wearing nothing overcame him as it usually did. Next was another tunic, this one a deep shimmering blue of heavy silk. Before Nannette could drape more gossamer white silk over his shoulders the locked scraped back and the door swung open. Brian stumbled in and dropped to his knees. Zack took three steps to him and froze. Nannette passed him and helped Brian to his feet again. The back of his tunic was dark with blood and his movements were stiff and pained. Zack started to cry again and Brian’s head snapped up. Nannette let him go and in three quick steps watery green eyes met his concerned brown. “What did he do to you?” he murmured brushing the tears away with his thumb. “I’m sorry.” Zack whimpered. Brian hugged him tightly, “You’ve done nothing wrong.” He whispered and Zack sniffled and rested his cheek on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you to finish getting him ready, Brian.” Nannette said softly. Zack raised his head and managed a small smile that Nannette fully returned it. Brian stepped back when she knocked and the guard burst in surveying the room but as soon as they were gone he was close again.

“You make it difficult to do this.” Brian murmured trying to wind the length of silk diagonally across his body. Zack had his head on his shoulder again and made a noncommittal sound. Brian smiled despite the horrific pain radiating through his body. The various herbs they had pressed to his back were stinging and burning, the bandages were too tight and constricting his already abused lungs. His abdomen was throbbing and an unconscious groan slipped out when he stretched a little too far. Zack raised his head finally, “What’s wrong?” he sounded scared and Brian pulled his head close again, “Nothing. Just sore.” He murmured. A gentle touch ran over his abdomen and he hugged Zack, “I’m fine Zachary. I’ve had much worse.” The hand stayed on his stomach and he pulled back to finish pinning the silk up. “You have a party to attend.” He murmured. Zack’s teary face morphed into a scowl, “I hate parties.” He mumbled resting his head on his shoulder.

The couches they reclined on weren’t uncomfortable, but the position was awkward. It was difficult to eat while stretched out on your side but none of the other guests or Rory seemed to mind. Nobles from Mozaik and other nearby towns laughed and yelled across the room at each other. Their sons shared crude jokes with Barik and not one person gave Zack any direct attention. There were the usual sideways looks, furtive glances, and quick searching gazes but he was never directly addressed. He hated parties. He hated the couch he had to lie on and he hated the company. Barik and the other sons treated him with the same air they did the slaves, dismissive and arrogant. Their fathers didn’t care for him, he wasn’t an heir, just some poor pity case Rory had taken off the street. He had no lineage, no inheritance; he was just another pretty table decoration.

“Rory, what do you plan on doing with Zachary?” Koil asked. He was a roly-poly man with fat that fell like folds of cloth on his body. Zack was carefully pulling a succulent piece beef into hairline strands. His eyes flicked up when Koil spoke but he didn’t pay much attention to him, at some point in the meal Nik or Koil always brought him and his future up.

“Yes, he’s near twenty-one summers isn’t he? Time to start looking for a wife.” Nik added. He wasn’t as thick as Koil but he was well on his way. Years of drinking bloated his face and ruptured the blood vessels in his eyes. Zack ignored them both, Rory would tell them to mind their own houses and supper would resume.

“Yes, he is.” Rory mused. Zack tried to cover his surprise but his head jerked up and one of the sons snickered. “Maybe he should go out sometime with your sons. I’ve been too protective of him as late, he needs to get out and learn how to pick good slaves.” The last part was said with a touch of sarcasm and Zack’s cheeks flared red as the room erupted in laughter. Nik took another glass of wine, “My boys will be at the next auction.” Koil tore off a bite from a leg of lamb, “Mine will be there as well. Barik and Zachary can join them.” He agreed heartily. Zack fought back the scowl trying to work its way onto his face. Rory nodded, “That’ll do nicely. They can spend the day at the market and discuss the running of a house.” Zack bit his tongue when Rory shot him a look that promised pain if he tried to argue. He continued pulling his food apart and actually wished he was back in his room. With Brian.

Zack darted into the room and leaned against the door with a loud sigh. Brian, who had been asleep on the floor, stiffly got to his feet. Zack managed to undo two pins before he got to him. “Please, go back to sleep.” He murmured when Brian’s fingers joined his. Brian pulled the top layer off. “I will, when I know you’re comfortable.” He answered. Zack wrestled himself out of the slick blue tunic and tossed it carelessly on the floor. “Good enough.” He said running a hand through his hair. Brian stepped back and gratefully dropped down to the rugs again intent on sleep but Zack grabbed his arm before he could stretch out. “Come.” He tugged gently on his arm but it still pulled at the open wounds on his back. He was glad it was dark because the grimace on his face probably would have made Zack start crying again. Staggering to his feet he tried to keep the sounds of pain to a minimum. Zack pushed him toward the bed and Brian dug his heals in. “Zachary, I can’t. If they see me, the beating today will be considered a mercy.” Zack made a sound and shoved him forward. His back screamed at him and he fell heavily on the bed. Zack rolled in next to him and his warm body snuggled close, “I won’t let him.” He murmured. Brian was in too much pain to argue and having Zack close brought sleep crashing down on him.

A/N: Gah! I’m such a horrible author. I haven’t updated this in so long. Many, many apologies. I will have this done soon though; before November at least. Thank you for reading and reviewing.
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