Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
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Chapter 1: Rough Beginnings
The wagon smelled of urine, feces and fear. The newly caught slaves sat huddled together, desperate for warmth. Outside the blizzard raged on, but the wagon rolled on calmly, some spell protecting it from the worst of it. Maybe they hadn't wanted to waste a spell to heat up the cargo hold, or maybe they figured it would be a first lesson in humility for the slaves. Either way it was freezing cold, and those towards the edges would need healing for the frostbites when they reached their destination - the slave hub Tyre's Port.
Adrian was lucky, he had been shackled in the middle, and while he got the worst of the excrement, at least he was warm. He was leaning against Markus, his older brother. At least they hadn't been separated yet. Maybe they would be sold together? As some sort of curio? Adrian wasn't sure how these things worked, but if he was honest with himself, it didn't seem likely - Markus was big and muscular and devilishly handsome, it was no secret that he was the prize catch. Adrian could not be described as handsome. Pretty would be more accurate. He was as tall as Markus, almost 2 meters, but sinewy instead of muscular. Their skin was pale, their hair black, his long and kept in a now sad and frizzy braid, Markus's short. With big brown eyes and pouty lips he had always been able to get his way, but he couldn't imagine that they would help him now.
"What if I'm sold to a brothel," he whispered.
"Then I'll save you," Markus answered, his voice husky from thirst.
"What if you're sold to some far off country, shipped away over the oceans. We might never see each other again." Markus's hands were shackled behind Adrian, but he reached out and placed a hand against his brothers back.
"We'll always find each other. Family finds a way. I will find a way to free us and we will head back home." Adrian felt the tears threatening to well over.
"Home to what? Mom and dad are dead, the forge burned down. What do we have left?"
"You have Callie," Adrian whispered softly. "She will wait for you, you know that." Adrian touched the rings on hisring finger with his thumb. The wedding bands he'd made for him and Callie. In the panic of the attack he'd put them on, thinking he had to save them. What did they matter, when his parents were dead, and Callie was miles away?
"I'm just scared," Adrian whispered, barely audibly.
"Me too, but we'll make it through. I promise."
The city Tyre's Port was huge, constructed mostly of stone but painted warm and vibrant colours. Ylland was mostly inhabited by humans, but this was a city of motley denizens - elves, orcs, animal folk. People from all over the world had either travelled here willingly or been brought here as slaves. If you were smart and resourceful, you could easily make a name for yourself here. As a free man, young and adventurous and somewhat bored of village life, Adrian had often dreamed of visiting. Now he was here as a slave. It did not live up to his dreams. The slavers who had caught them were bottom-rung stuff and did not have permission to sell their wares at any of the better markets. They brought them to the Waste, a market located in the Shabbles, where the house colours were faded and dirty, and the roads were as covered with excrement as the wagon had been.
The slavers brought them out of the wagon and over to a big cage behind the auction stage. There they were brought out one by one, branded, and returned to the cage. Adrian screamed through the gag as the hot iron was pressed against his throat. He thought he would pass out, the pain continuing, pulsating like a heartbeat. At least it brought his thoughts away from the nervousness whirling around his stomach - he felt like puking but there was nothing for him to puke up. He tried to breathe in the cold air slowly, enjoy the freshness of it compared to the wagon. He focused on how nice it was to stretch his legs, feel the sun on his face. Their hands were locked in front of them, but still Adrian and Markus struggled until they could hold hands, the touch re-affirming. They couldn't speak. Didn't know what to say. They just looked around wild-eyed, taking in all the different species of people - lupines were common, as were orcs. Here and there in the crowd they could see the smaller form of felines and vulpines. They didn't see many humans, and no elves whatsoever.
The slavers returned again, bringing their cargo up on the stage. The auctioneer, a big, burly lupine, started picking them out one by one, selling them to the crowd gathered below. Adrian met Markus's eyes. Please let them be sold together. The slaves gathered on the stage were quickly thinning out - it was a brisk business, and then the auctioneer pointed at Markus.
"A fine young human male, mid-twenties. Strong as an ox by the look of it. Let's start at 40 silver." An orc in the front row raised his hand. "40 silver, do I have 45?" A white tiger raised a hand. "The lady in the middle bids 45, 50?" The orc raised his hand again. "I have 50, 55." A pause. "55, any takers?" Finally a human male, his skin dark as coal, raised his hand. He did not fit in with the rest of the crowd, Adrian could see that immediately - his clothes were fine and clean, his jewellery expensive. Behind him were two orcs dressed in dark clothing, also clean and fine. Guards, maybe?
"55 to the fine gentleman, any raisers? 60 silvers? Do I have 60 silvers? Then sold for 55 silver!" A guard immediately grabbed Markus, dragging him off the stage.
"I love you!" Markus called to Adrian. "I will get back to you, I promise." Adrian couldn't respond, the words caught in his throat. He could only stare as Markus was pulled away. He was alone.
The auctioneer turned his attention to Adrian. "Another fine specimen! Roughly twenty years of age, presumably male. Would make a good attendant or prostitute. Let's start at 15. Any takers?" The crowd was silent. The city had plenty of attendants and prostitutes. Finally the orc in the front raised his hand. "We have 15! Anyone for 20? No? Then sold to Mr Laurens!" The guards grabbed Adrian's lead and pulled him off the stage, keeping him there until Mr Laurens turned up shortly after. Adrian thought he was small for an orc, not much taller than himself. The tusks sticking out of his mouth were clipped short and adorned with silver caps. His hair was cut short and he wore a threadbare blue suit. A young feline in a pencil-skirt came over, holding a scroll. She unfurled the scroll and pinned it to a writing board.
"What's your name?" she asked Adrian brusquely. When he didn't answer the guard still holding him squeezed his arm painfully.
