Jacob never let his mask down. It was a scowl, a look far too sharp and angry for his soft brown eyes. As the other slaves moved about their business, he moved about his, determined to stick to himself and get his own jobs done without a fuss.
He worked in the garden. He liked that well enough; it was nice being able to breathe, and he loved plants. Something about digging in the dirt faintly revived a happier time in his mind.
Of course, he hadn’t always been a slave; or at least, he hadn’t always felt like a slave. Technically, he’d been owned from day one of his life, but his master had treated him like one of his own children; he’d been allowed to read and write, he’d been allowed to have friends and eat good food and just generally be happy.
That had ended when the good master had died. That was when his numerous affairs came to light, and his wife was put into a state of great grief; she decided on selling everything, and starting anew somewhere else.
His master’s children had begged to keep him, to at least keep ‘poor Jacob’ with them, but the wife had snarled something about him being ‘one of his damn bastards’ and he’d never seen them again.
When he was sold to a new master, that was when the mask came on.
Jacob had been a nice, kind person before coming to this place. He’d been the sort of person who would offer compliments and talk if a person looked lonely.
Now he knew better. He kept his mouth shut, except to curse out anyone who got too close, and to answer with ‘Yes sir’ and ‘Yes ma’am.’ He didn’t dare to hope that he would go from the menial labor in the garden back to his good life; he was smart enough to know that was long gone.
Today, he was weeding around the topiary bushes near the front of the house. It was hot, and he was sweating significantly; he focused solely on clearing the patch, however, to the point that he barely noticed the shadow that fell over him.
“Hi.”
“Fucking hell!” Jacob started, looking sharply behind him. He put on a huge scowl when he saw who it was; he may not have recognized him, but anyone who looked that happy deserved a scowl.
The golden-haired man laughed, tilting his hat back on his head. “You must startle easily, sorry. Um, I was just assigned to work the gardens; mind showing me where to start?”
“Yes, I fucking do.” Jacob gave him the middle finger and turned back to his weeding. Let him figure it out on his own; it wasn’t his job to babysit.
“I don’t think you get it; I’m new here. Just won from a card game, apparently.” There was silence for a moment. “My name’s Alfred. I just need a little bit of help; just point me in the direction of the shed, and I’m sure I’ll know what to do!”
Jacob pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “It’s there. Now fucking leave me alone!”
A hand landed on his shoulder. Jacob froze, breath trapped in his lungs, eyes wide, though Alfred couldn’t see that.
“Thanks, bud!” And the hand was gone, as quickly as it had been there.
Jacob cursed under his breath, and swiped at his eyes, though he told himself it was because sweat was getting in them. He knew the real reason, and he hated Alfred all the more for piercing his personal bubble.
Everyone else knew not to touch him. No one else wanted to.
But god, of course the new guy would want to put his hands all over him. Jacob was no longer sweating, a chill in his stomach.
Just focus, he told himself. Just get that weed, and then the next one, and then the next…
Anon, this looks really good! I like how you've used Molossia's canon personality -- nice until he's around other people -- and adapted it into this AU.
I would have never seen this pairing coming! This means, of course, that I am delighted. I can't wait to see more, A!Anon! Molossia's actually one of my favorite characters, and you characterize him so nicely!
Jacob had avoided Alfred successfully for most of the day. Even when it was time for dinner, he’d managed to sit far away from him.
But it was that night, when he entered his sleeping quarters, that he discovered an awful truth: he had a roommate.
“Hey, the master said we could share your bed. Says it’s sort of big anyway, since, you know, it’s a castoff and all…” Alfred had at least the decency to look a little embarrassed. That quickly faded, though, as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not handsy!”
Sharing a bed. A shiver went down Jacob’s spine, and he felt already vulnerable sleeping clothes. He threw himself on the bed, turning away towards the wall. “See if I fucking care.”
Just lie down a minute. Share the bed with me.
His eyes flew open, as he realized, no, that was the wrong side to present to Alfred! He tried to turn over, but the bed dipped down next to him and Alfred was there, altogether too close and too smiling, as he said,
“Well, it’s a tight fit, but it’ll be fine! I don’t sprawl or anything! Do you snore?”
He could practically feel his breath on him. And god, he was breaking out in a sweat. He’d barely managed to flip onto his back, but he still felt horribly exposed, like he’d stripped himself naked and offered himself to his fellow slave. “Move the fuck over! Don’t they have personal space where you come from?!
“Um, I’ll fall off the bed. I’m serious, I will.” Alfred turned his baby blues on him, as though he could somehow make his warm eyes cause everything to be better.
He was going to hyperventilate, and then everyone would know, Alfred would tell everyone. Jacob shut his eyes tightly, praying that there would be an end to it.
He nearly screamed when Alfred’s arm fell across him as the other shuffled a bit in bed. “Sorry. Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jacob said, sitting up and trying to navigate his way out of the bed without climbing on top of Alfred. That was just an invitation for something, and Jacob was far too wary to take the chance.
“Oh. Okay. You can climb over me, I’m fine,” Alfred said, turning over so he was sprawled on his stomach.
Jacob managed to take a blanket and a pillow with him, gingerly easing his way over Alfred and managing just barely not to touch him. He curled up on the hard floor; it was the servants’ quarters, after all, and not somewhere that deserved a rug. He had no talent to make a rug, nor the good grace to ask someone to make one for him.
He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him, as he tried not to feel the solid surface pressing hard against his back.
“You’re awful young to be giving up the bed, you know… You can’t be more than fifteen.”
You’re so young; you can’t be more than fifteen.
Jacob shuddered, and snarled back, “I’ll give up the bed if I want to! I’m not that young! Shut up!”
Alfred was quiet after that, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of his snores.
Jacob shivered, the chill of the floor emanating through him, though it was hardly the only thing keeping him from sleeping. He shut his eyes tightly, and eventually unconsciousness took him.
*shivers* Anon, this is getting really interesting, I love that Jacob's underlying past abuse(/problems) is fairly subtle, and how Jacob deals with it... ;_;
Oh, poor Molossia! I feel so bad for him! But it's certainly true that slavery throughout the centuries has led to owners taking advantage of their slaves sexually, from the Romans to the Americans in recorded history.
I can't wait to read more! And don't worry, I suck at HTML too. :)
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Any/Any Slavery
(Anonymous) 2013-02-25 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)You can make this as dark or light as you like; you can have sexual slavery or whatever.
I just request no shota.
bonus: rarepair
bonus 2: Romano
Mask 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-06 09:29 am (UTC)(link)Jacob never let his mask down. It was a scowl, a look far too sharp and angry for his soft brown eyes. As the other slaves moved about their business, he moved about his, determined to stick to himself and get his own jobs done without a fuss.
He worked in the garden. He liked that well enough; it was nice being able to breathe, and he loved plants. Something about digging in the dirt faintly revived a happier time in his mind.
Of course, he hadn’t always been a slave; or at least, he hadn’t always felt like a slave. Technically, he’d been owned from day one of his life, but his master had treated him like one of his own children; he’d been allowed to read and write, he’d been allowed to have friends and eat good food and just generally be happy.
That had ended when the good master had died. That was when his numerous affairs came to light, and his wife was put into a state of great grief; she decided on selling everything, and starting anew somewhere else.
His master’s children had begged to keep him, to at least keep ‘poor Jacob’ with them, but the wife had snarled something about him being ‘one of his damn bastards’ and he’d never seen them again.
When he was sold to a new master, that was when the mask came on.
Jacob had been a nice, kind person before coming to this place. He’d been the sort of person who would offer compliments and talk if a person looked lonely.
Now he knew better. He kept his mouth shut, except to curse out anyone who got too close, and to answer with ‘Yes sir’ and ‘Yes ma’am.’ He didn’t dare to hope that he would go from the menial labor in the garden back to his good life; he was smart enough to know that was long gone.
Today, he was weeding around the topiary bushes near the front of the house. It was hot, and he was sweating significantly; he focused solely on clearing the patch, however, to the point that he barely noticed the shadow that fell over him.
“Hi.”
“Fucking hell!” Jacob started, looking sharply behind him. He put on a huge scowl when he saw who it was; he may not have recognized him, but anyone who looked that happy deserved a scowl.
The golden-haired man laughed, tilting his hat back on his head. “You must startle easily, sorry. Um, I was just assigned to work the gardens; mind showing me where to start?”
“Yes, I fucking do.” Jacob gave him the middle finger and turned back to his weeding. Let him figure it out on his own; it wasn’t his job to babysit.
“I don’t think you get it; I’m new here. Just won from a card game, apparently.” There was silence for a moment. “My name’s Alfred. I just need a little bit of help; just point me in the direction of the shed, and I’m sure I’ll know what to do!”
Jacob pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “It’s there. Now fucking leave me alone!”
A hand landed on his shoulder. Jacob froze, breath trapped in his lungs, eyes wide, though Alfred couldn’t see that.
“Thanks, bud!” And the hand was gone, as quickly as it had been there.
Jacob cursed under his breath, and swiped at his eyes, though he told himself it was because sweat was getting in them. He knew the real reason, and he hated Alfred all the more for piercing his personal bubble.
Everyone else knew not to touch him. No one else wanted to.
But god, of course the new guy would want to put his hands all over him. Jacob was no longer sweating, a chill in his stomach.
Just focus, he told himself. Just get that weed, and then the next one, and then the next…
It worked until he ran out of weeds.
Re: Mask 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-06 10:45 am (UTC)(link)Re: Mask 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-06 03:39 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2013-03-07 12:38 am (UTC)(link)I can't wait to see what his issue is. :)
Re: Mask 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-07 02:28 am (UTC)(link)Mask 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-21 02:15 am (UTC)(link)But it was that night, when he entered his sleeping quarters, that he discovered an awful truth: he had a roommate.
“Hey, the master said we could share your bed. Says it’s sort of big anyway, since, you know, it’s a castoff and all…” Alfred had at least the decency to look a little embarrassed. That quickly faded, though, as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not handsy!”
Sharing a bed. A shiver went down Jacob’s spine, and he felt already vulnerable sleeping clothes. He threw himself on the bed, turning away towards the wall. “See if I fucking care.”
Just lie down a minute. Share the bed with me.
His eyes flew open, as he realized, no, that was the wrong side to present to Alfred! He tried to turn over, but the bed dipped down next to him and Alfred was there, altogether too close and too smiling, as he said,
“Well, it’s a tight fit, but it’ll be fine! I don’t sprawl or anything! Do you snore?”
He could practically feel his breath on him. And god, he was breaking out in a sweat. He’d barely managed to flip onto his back, but he still felt horribly exposed, like he’d stripped himself naked and offered himself to his fellow slave. “Move the fuck over! Don’t they have personal space where you come from?!
“Um, I’ll fall off the bed. I’m serious, I will.” Alfred turned his baby blues on him, as though he could somehow make his warm eyes cause everything to be better.
He was going to hyperventilate, and then everyone would know, Alfred would tell everyone. Jacob shut his eyes tightly, praying that there would be an end to it.
He nearly screamed when Alfred’s arm fell across him as the other shuffled a bit in bed. “Sorry. Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jacob said, sitting up and trying to navigate his way out of the bed without climbing on top of Alfred. That was just an invitation for something, and Jacob was far too wary to take the chance.
“Oh. Okay. You can climb over me, I’m fine,” Alfred said, turning over so he was sprawled on his stomach.
Jacob managed to take a blanket and a pillow with him, gingerly easing his way over Alfred and managing just barely not to touch him. He curled up on the hard floor; it was the servants’ quarters, after all, and not somewhere that deserved a rug. He had no talent to make a rug, nor the good grace to ask someone to make one for him.
He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him, as he tried not to feel the solid surface pressing hard against his back.
“You’re awful young to be giving up the bed, you know… You can’t be more than fifteen.”
You’re so young; you can’t be more than fifteen.
Jacob shuddered, and snarled back, “I’ll give up the bed if I want to! I’m not that young! Shut up!”
Alfred was quiet after that, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of his snores.
Jacob shivered, the chill of the floor emanating through him, though it was hardly the only thing keeping him from sleeping. He shut his eyes tightly, and eventually unconsciousness took him.
A!anon
(Anonymous) 2013-03-21 02:15 am (UTC)(link)Re: Mask 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-21 01:24 pm (UTC)(link)Oh, poor Molossia...
Re: Mask 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-21 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2013-03-21 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)I can't wait to read more! And don't worry, I suck at HTML too. :)