Alrighty... Let's get down to business. I obviously don't own any of these characters... If I did, I would be rich and I wouldn't be submitting FANFICTION on ff dot net
All that aside let's kick it to the basics. I DON'T GIVE A FLAMING FUCK about your ties to WWII and how much it still hurts and blah blah blah... I'm evil for writing this, blah blah blah. It's a LOVE STORY for shit's sake. Get over it! And it's probably one of the best written XigDem fics you'll find here on this site. Cocky? No... It's just the other fics aren't that great. So anyway, enjoy! I tried to make this as historically correct as possible.
Incase you haven't noticed... This is an AU people.
Kraków, Poland
September 29, 1939
Xigbar sat in a quaint little pub on the outskirts of the city. It was very early in the morning... About four or so... But who was really counting when you were enjoying the company of your fellow man? He tipped his glass to his best soldier, Axel, and downed his shot of Vodka. It was just another night off duty in this occupied city... Even commanding officers needed a break every now and then. He liked to spend his time catching up with his best men. After all, he was never really out on the city streets. He didn't handle the dirty work so he never got to see any of the great things that went on outside his home... He snapped his fingers at the bar tender and motioned him over. "Oi! Jew! Another bottle of Vodka over here! And can't we get some music in here? This place is as dull as your future..." Xigbar chuckled and nudged Saïx who spilled his drink on the bar.
Lexaeus sighed and grabbed another bottle from the back shelf. He carted the bottle over to the group of Nazi soldiers and sat it down.
"Hey!" Xigbar grabbed the bar tender's wrist and stared at him hard. "You gonna play some music for us?"
Lexaeus looked away from the snickering soldiers and contained his urge to pummle them. He had his sons to think about after all. "We don't have any records any more... They were taken away."
Xigbar motioned to the piano sitting in a dusty corner and smiled. "You have that thing, don't you? Play it..."
Lexaeus swallowed back his pride and sighed. "Regrettably sir, I can not play... My wife was a pianist, but she has been dead for many years."
"Well..." Xigbar released his hold on the man and put his hand on his gun. "There has to be someone in this place that knows how to play music. My soldiers and I can be very irate when we drink without music. Accidents could happen."
Lexaeus sucked in a quick breath and nodded. "My son... He has been practicing foreign instruments. He plays the sitar... I'll go wake him."
Xigbar smirked. "Good... And bring us more food while you're away!"
Lexaeus nodded and quickly rushed into the back room. He climbed the stairs to his home above the pub and rushed into his eldest son's room. "Demyx... Demyx, wake up!"
Demyx sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Nngh... Father?"
Lexaeus tapped his son's cheek. "Demyx... There are Nazi soldiers here..."
Demyx's eyes grew wide and he leapt out of bed. "Take Roxas... I'll distract them."
Lexaeus shook his head. "No my son... They want to hear you play..."
Demyx furrowed his brow and glanced at his sitar. "But... I only know how to play the sitar. They won't like it..."
Lexaeus shook his head. "Nonsense. They'll love it... Now let's go!"
Demyx shook his head out of the groggy clouds of sleep and picked up his sitar. He followed his father down the stairs to the pub where a whole line of Nazi soldiers sat at the bar drinking away all the lives they had taken. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach and it took all the teen had to will his legs into movement. He sat across the room on an empty stool and tuned his sitar. He hadn't played for a few weeks... Not since the Nazi's had invaded. He took in a deep breath and began to strum the tightly rung strings on his instrument. The sound he so loved flowed happily from the chords he played and soon filled the bar with that mystical eastern music that made his soul shake to its core. For a moment it was only him and his sitar. He remembered the time his family had spent in India before the war. He'd fallen in love with the instrument then and he cherished it greatly after his mother's death. Now he sat playing it for men without hearts... Men undeserving of the beautiful sounds his treasure made. This brought him back from his fond memories... Back home to a war torn world. Back to a pub catering to the desires of men who killed his people... He opened his eyes and stared at the man directly across from him. His gaze was piercing... His face was frightening... It was the face of a killer... A man who had risen in the ranks to become one of their higher ups. He shuttered. He wanted to tear his gaze from this man but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't look away from him.
Saïx grumbled and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the seventeen year old Jewish boy before them. "That music is terrible... Stop playing or I'll shoot you."
Xigbar scowled and turned his gaze from the boy to Saïx. "Put your gun away... I like his music."
Saïx cocked an eyebrow at his commanding officer and put the gun away. "You like this tripe? It sounds terrible..." He stood and stretched out his body, cracking his back and fingers in one swift moment. "Well I'm going elsewhere then... I can't enjoy myself with such a putrid instrument being played."
Demyx's fingers froze and his gaze flew to the man preparing to leave. He wished he had a gun. He would have shot him... How dare he insult the instrument! How dare he insult the memory of Demyx's mother! But at the halt of music he felt glaring eyes on him.
Xigbar let his gaze fall from Saïx to the boy across the room. "Why have you stopped? I did not tell you to."
Demyx looked away from the group and sighed, continuing his music despite his deep desire to disallow them the privlege of hearing such a beautiful instrument. He didn't see, but rather heard many of the men mumbling quietly and then standing to leave. This was good. He didn't want them there... He heard the many feet shuffling and the door opening. When it closed he breathed a sigh of relief and smiled softly. They were gone... Still, something didn't feel right. He felt eyes on him, still watching. Ears still listening. He dared to open his eyes and his gaze fell on that same man... The one who he couldn't look away from. Beside him was a red haired man watching calmly. His stare wasn't as intense as the other man's. The other man's gaze was hard and captivating. Even now Demyx could not bring himself to look away no matter how much he wanted to. He continued to play, still holding his locked gaze with that man. Minutes turned into hours and soon it was only the two left in the pub. His fingers danced gracefully along the strings until the man raised his hand to halt the playing. Demyx froze. What now?
Xigbar gave a few small claps before standing and glancing at the clock against a nearby wall. He stretched and yawned before walking quietly over to the petrified young man. He stared down at him for a moment. He could feel the fear emanating from the Jew. Still, as frightened as he was the young man managed to meet his gaze. It was admirable. "You play wonderfully... What is your name?"
"D-demyx, sir..." Demyx swallowed hard and stared up at that face. The man's only good eye looked him over curiously. "Demyx Ydem."
Xigbar nodded quietly and paused in thought. "Do you have lice?"
Demyx swallowed hard and shook his head. "N-no sir..."
"Good." Xigbar smiled and crossed his arms. "You have fifteen minutes to gather your things up... You are coming to serve me."
Demyx's heart fell from his stomach to the floor and he stared at the man wide eyed. "But I..."
"Either you come calmly and quietly or I will kill your father and burn this place to the ground so that you have no other choice. Now, which is it?" Xigbar rested his hand on his gun and smirked.
"I understand sir." Demyx stood quietly, setting his sitar to the side. He hurried into the back room where his father stood quietly. His gaze met with his father's and tears came to his eyes. "Father!"
"I overheard..." Lexaeus sighed and pulled his son into a tight embrace. "But Demyx... You can not deny him. And perhaps it is for the best... Serve him well and who knows? Perhaps he will treat you well."
"He is a Nazi, father!" Demyx wiped away his tears. "To him we are just Jews. Just rats... Worse than rats. He doesn't enjoy my music, he only wants to pain us by tearing our family apart!" He sucked in a quick breath and bit his quivering lip. "Father, I can't."
"Demyx! Do as you are told..." Lexaeus grabbed his son by his shoulders and shook him lightly. "He can kill you if he wants but he doesn't. You are of some value to him... Because of your music. Be thankful for your gift my son... Now go. Gather your things in a suitcase and follow him obediently."
Demyx nodded and climbed the stairs to his room. He pulled out an old suitcase and packed away many of his things. Mostly he brought with him his clothing and a few books including the Torah. With one last glance around the room he spotted the Star of David necklace his mother had left to him hanging sorrowfully from a framed photograph of his mother. He quickly grabbed it and placed it in his suitcase along with the photograph. With a heavy sigh he picked up his suitcase and started down the hall to his brother's room. Roxas was still asleep in his bed though the sun was threatening to break through the darkness at any moment. He leaned down and pressed his lips carefully on his brother's forehead. "My brother. Farewell..." He smiled softly as the boy stretched and rolled onto his stomach. "I hope to see you again one day..." With one last look at his brother, Demyx sighed and headed down the stairs again. His father was waiting with open arms to give him one final embrace. "Take care of Roxas, father."
Lexaeus held his son tightly and nodded. "I will... Please be safe. Do as he says, mind your tongue and never give up hope."
Demyx nodded and smiled softly. "I will never give up hope. Farewell father..." Demyx wiped his eyes and entered the pub. Across the room stood that wicked man staring curiously at the sitar. Demyx approached and stood behind him quietly.
Xigbar heard Demyx approach but he did not turn to face him. "A sitar... It is Indian?"
Demyx nodded though the man could not see him. "Yes sir."
Xigbar nodded and admired the instrument for a second more. "You play it well... It is foreign and yet you know it like it was something you were born with."
Demyx looked away from the man and did not respond.
Xigbar glanced back at the boy before returning his attention to the instrument. "Do you mind if I admire it more closely?"
Demyx scowled and clenched his fists. "I would rather you not, sir."
"How unfortunate for you then..." Xigbar reached out to grab the sitar.
"Please don't!" Demyx leapt forward and grabbed the sitar out of the man's reach.
Xigbar retracted his hand and hid the growing smirk on his face. "Very well... Let us go then."
Demyx glared at the back of the man's head as he turned to lead him away. He hated this man... He symbolized all that was evil. He was a Nazi... A murderer.. A demon among men... And now Demyx was his property. That was all he could be, for he was only a Jew. He had no right to freedom, not according to this man and his people... But no, he was less than property... A pet was property. He wasn't any better than a dog in this man's eyes. That made him merely a slave... Just a slave...
Once they arrived at his home, Xigbar threw open the door and stepped into the front corridor. The sun was well on its way to filling the room so he decided against turning on any lighting. He motioned for his new servant to follow him up the stairs and down the long hall which led to many bedrooms. Once they reached his room he stopped and turned to look at the boy. "My name is Xigbar Braig. I am SS-Brigadeführer and Generalmajor of the Waffen-SS and Polizei in this central division of Kraków. I have brought you here for one purpose and one purpose only. You are here to provide musical entertainment for me and my guests when I have them. Your duties will include playing your sitar at meal times, during parties, while I bathe and even while I sleep... Also any time I feel like hearing you play. Your staying room will be across from my room so that whenever I call for you, you can hear me. You have free roam of the property except for when I have guests at which point I would ask you to stay in your room unless you were providing entertainment for us. Please feel free to bathe as often as you like and eat as much as you desire. Obey me and you will have an easy life here... Is this all understood?"
Demyx nodded quietly. "Y-yes sir. Thank you." Demyx wasn't sure if he should be thanking the man. After all, he'd just torn him away from his family and forced him to become a slave. Still, it could have been worse. He could be living under worse conditions and he could have even been killed. Regardless of that he wanted to be at home with his father and brother... He sighed softly and kept his eyes downcast as the man before him waited for something more. Demyx didn't know what he could possibly be waiting for... More words of gratitude perhaps, but nothing Demyx was willing to offer. Finally after a long moment Demyx was left alone and he headed into his new room. His jaw dropped in awe at the majesty of the staying room. It was elegant and beautiful with an extravagant design... It seemed untouched since the Jewish family that had lived there had been forced to move out. There were still belongings strewn about in a clattered frenzy. His heart fell. He felt horrible for accepting such a room... One of his peers had lost it to this man he now worked for and Demyx would be enjoying it. It didn't seem fair... Still, he wasn't about to complain lest he be moved to a servant's room. He set his suit case down and moved toward the bed. He sat down on the feather filled mattress and let out a contented sigh. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad...