Chapter Text
The grey tents were pitched with a blue fabric one placed centrally. The grey ones were a line of defence, the men who escorted the Prince protecting him at all costs sleeping around him, a barrier to those who may attack. Rin was stood, his feet bare in the cold sand looking critically at it for a moment. It wasn’t that he was scared. Rin had been bought and sold before. He’d been owned by the rich and the powerful, the men who touched him roughly and demanded things of him that he had mostly complied with, fulfilling his role as the compliant sex slave but he’d never been owned by royalty. Even if it was only a Prince of the wandering Iwatobi clan.
A hand rested on his shoulder. “The Prince is ready for you.”
Rin nodded and looked up into green kind eyes. Makoto, the Prince’s right hand, had bought him in the slaver markets where he’d ended up after an altercation with his previous master. He’d bought him in the auctions and Rin had not been in the best shape after some time in the squalid conditions of the markets. But Makoto had sat at the auction and when Rin had appeared had immediately starting bidding without the usual boasts and fanfare from the auction master. And Rin had met his eye, looked puzzled but had been relieved when Makoto had bought him rather than the man who had been bidding opposite him. The other guy had been fat and while Rin would’ve had no choice, it would have been a short ownership, he reckoned, as Rin tended to try and fight when he ended up with an awful master. His fights were ineffectual but he tried. And then he would get sold again.
“The Prince is not like the others,” Makoto said softly and Rin glanced towards him, “his slaves are treated well. As will you.”
When he’d arrived at the camp, the clan nomadic and constantly moving, Rin had seen some of the Prince’s slaves when Makoto had taken him to clean up and be fed. They were young men of varying appearance, tall, short, dark skinned, fair skinned, blond haired and fiery red haired and even one with a hint of blue. And Rin hadn’t spoken to them as Makoto had taken him into the back of the tent, helped him wash the grit and dirt and blood from his skin, lightly perfumed water cleansing him, and then dressed him, the loose white pants and open red shirt exposing his abdominal muscles, his toned pectorals, the body he’d still worked for during his time in the slaver market. Rin had been a slave for long enough to know that his body was his life and his weapon and his meals. And he had always worked for it.
But the other slaves had looked at him with suspicion as he’d left, cleaned up and dressed, their eyes narrowing and Rin had ignored them, walking a step behind Makoto until they stood outside the tent of the Prince.
“You can go inside,” Makoto prompted.
Rin had paused, not anxious, just considering the awful realities that had come before. He hadn’t been born a slave, he had been born a warrior, raised in a temple devoted to the blood soaked smell of battle but during the wars, the rebellions, the temple had burned and with it, Rin’s parents. He’d become a slave in exchange for his sister. He had not wanted Gou to suffer and he had sacrificed himself to see her taken in as a servant girl, rather than as a sex slave. And since then he’d been trained in the arts of seduction and desire, traded and bartered, beaten when he ran away, nearly killed when he attacked a master, and then left to rot in the slavers market. He had been fucked in every imaginable way, done things he never wanted to again and he had a moment of caution. Makoto seemed, well, nice¸ and Rin could run away now. He’d been washed, fed and given clothes – he no longer looked like a slave and so he could try and escape. But then they were in the middle of the desert and the night was cold and Rin’s clothes were meant to be alluring rather than anything else and so he swallowed and walked towards the entrance to the tent.
He pulled back the curtain, walking inside to smell incense and see the plush cushions, the blankets spread, the pillows and finally he looked up to see his new master. Rin’s eyes widened then, surprised as while Makoto had told him he had been bought by a Prince, he still expected a slob, an old man, something unpleasant but instead he was looking at someone roughly his own age clad in blue and white. His feet had stopped, the feel of a luxurious fabric underneath his toes and he looked into the Prince’s bright blue eyes.
“Come here,” the Prince said.
Rin obeyed, walking slowly across the rugs to his new master, wondering why someone as gorgeous as the Prince needed to buy people to fuck. As when Rin’s eyes took in his dark hair, his intense eyes and his incredible body, he was the first person in a long time that Rin would’ve offered his services for free.