bakerstreet | The Slave Auction Meme

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The Slave Auction Meme

• Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any.
• Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
• Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning: Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.

SLAVES

1. The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect. Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master. Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2. The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times. You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different. In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3. The Pet - You're a pleasure slave. A bed warmer. A decorative piece of artwork. You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4. The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5. The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains. Too bad you seem to get caught after a while. Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent. Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6. The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one. Why? Well that's up to you. Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7. The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has. Something rare and valuable. Something your master needs more than anything else.

MASTERS

1. The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you. Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2. The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them? Or maybe it isn't so nice. Did you even want a slave in the first place? Well you're stuck with one now.

3. The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect. Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4. The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5. The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6. The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side. It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7. The Undercover - You're not actually a Master. You're at the auction for an entirely different reason. Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone. Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.

Snagged from here.

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It was, in a way. Life was very different back then and there was a lot of things we didn't fully comprehend. [A lot of the time it's hard to believe he is the same man from his own memories of his youth.]

It is certainly close enough for me. If I'd wanted to be closer to it I wouldn't have thrown it at your fathers head and run for the hills to keep him from getting any ideas about returning it. [He's joking, of course. Fingolfins coronation had been far more dignified than that, but the sentiment behind his jest was not entirely unfounded.] And those little hypocrites would feel the same had they ever have had to wear the thing. I know them well enough to know they'd hate the responsibility and not having the freedom of movement that they do now. They just want to foist it of on me so they can enjoy the perks without suffering any of the drawbacks.

Most of them were things we couldn't comprehend, even if we had known to consider them. Even our fathers were like children before we came across the world to taste darkness for the first time. [They might have thought they knew shadow. The darkening of the trees wasn't nothing, after all, nor was the death of their grandfather but it was nothing compared to the horrors here. Even in the dark, Aman had ultimately been a place of peace and safety.]

Imagine if you had thrown it at his head and it had been the one time you failed to catch. You would either turn him black and blue or send him home the swift way. [Even when Maedhros had given up the crown to Fingon's father, none of them had ever expected Fingon to have to take it up. Fingolfin was strong and brave and wise, he should have outlived them all.

Oh, they would be tyrants. And then I would have to do something about them... which I would rather avoid. I have had enough Kinslaying for all the rest of my days. [And they would never cede anything to Fingon for a price less than death.]

We were all so... innocent back then. [Like children, as Fingon had said. Which meant they had at times been cruel in their innocence simply by not knowing any better.]

That would certainly have been embarrassing and almost no one would have believed me had I claimed it an accident. [Fingon would have, for he knew him better than that.]

I'd hate for either of us having to be in a position to have to stop them from such a course. [He'd find it very hard to do himself, having practicaly helped raise them from boys to men, but he'd not stand in Fingon's way either. For he knew a king of the Noldor could not be allowed to be a tyrant.] So it's for all of our best interest that you keep the crown on your dashing head, my love.

I know your heart. So did my father. And we are the judges that matter in such a circumstance. [Fingolfin had faults, but he loved his family–all of his family–and he truly did know Maedhros in a way that Fëanor never knew Fingon. He would have known this dark yet humour hypothetical had been an accident if it had come to pass.]

As long as my head doesn't get dashed instead of just being dashing, I think we will be fine. No one lets them close enough to me anymore for them to do any harm. [It's a dark joke, but one he doesn't think much of. He finishes Maedhros's clothes and then offers him a flask of water.]

We should start off home if you feel you can manage it. You will ride with me, I will not let you fall. [Nevermind that Fingon was close to a foot shorter. He somehow never let physics get in his way when it came to caring for his cousin.]

You do. I could not hide it from you even if I wished to. [Which he did not. Maedhros might do his best to keep dark memories and thoughts away from him but he'd never been able to even think of shielding his heart from Fingon. The mere thought made it ache.] Your father was good like that. I could not have asked for a better uncle, especially not when he was always so willing to open his doors for me when I needed some distance from my family. [They all had their flaws, but Maedhros too had always made a point that he loved all his family.]

It better not be. I like it far too much to stand for seeing it so abused. [Maedhros snorts in amusement. He's not above making dark jokes of his own so he can certainly see the humor in Fingon's. He gratefully accepts the flask but makes sure to pace himself so he does not make himself ill. He'd learnt that lesson since the last time he'd been starved.]

Let's. I want to be away from here sooner rather than later and getting to ride with you is certainly an incentive of it's own. [And he knows he'll not let him fall. Fingon has never let him fall.]

Good uncles you did not lack. I like to think Father would have let you in regardless though, for he knew how much I admired and adored you. Our home has always been your home.

Yes, you would go on a rampage while I twiddled my thumbs in Mandos, wondering how to get them to send me back to you.

[Fingon rises, picking up Maedhros as he does with a grace only the eldar could manage given how ungainly this should look and decidedly doesn't. He lifts him up to the back of his steed and will mount behind him once Maedhros is steady.]

You will have to get better if you really want to go for a ride. [He teases.] Hows that for incentive?

I certainly drew a winning hand when it came to uncles. I think he would have, he never took any joy in standing between his children and their happiness. A home I cherrished.

I would and I would not stop until I'd be right outside banging on the gates and demanding either your release or my entry. I might look enough a fright that they'd simply throw you at me to make me go away.

[Maedhros takes the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of Fingon's neck, breathing in the comforting and familiar scent of him. When they are both seated he'll lean back with a tired sigh.]

I think it's enough of one to make me have a positively miraculous recovery. [He chuckles.] Though considering I want to take my time lingering at your side I'll probably be playing up my terrible wounds to the healers so that they sadly have to keep me on bedrest for months on end. [Because he thinks this is the one time he could justify such antics from himself. He's earned a bit of a rest, hasn't he?]

Mother loves you as well, as if you were one of her own. [Not that Maedhros's own mother wasn't excellent, but Fingon had always felt that he needed as many parents as would have him given the harshness of Fëanor and how hard it was to gain his approval.]

We could only hope. I do not think you can kiss in Mandos and being so close to you without being able to feel your lips against mine would drive me mad.

[It is comforting sitting like this, his horses take a mere nudge to start off home, knowing instinctively what their master wants of them as Fingon gently strokes his hand over Maedhros's larger one. They used to ride like this when they were boys, though Fingon usually sat in front, abusing the fact he could make his cousin hold him tighter by seeming unusually unsteady.]

Oh, I am not letting you off of bed rest this time even if you beg or the healers protest. I am going to keep you safe, right where I can always feel you and know you are well or becoming well.

Aunt Anairë always made me feel welcome in her house. [More than welcome. She had always been kind to him. He had needed as many parents as would have him, Fingon was not wrong about that. Though he loved his father, even now when it was so terribly hard to feel anything but anger in regards to him, it had not been easy to be his son. His firstborn son even less so.]

I'd hate it too, but at least I'd be by your side. And who knows? Between the two of us we might just drive Námo mad enough that he'd toss us out on our behinds and forbid us from ever return to darken his day again?

[Comforting and familiar. Just what he needs right now. Riding like this brings only pleasant memories to him, of bright and warm days spent exploring Aman together as boys and young men both. And yes, even pleasant memories of their first youthful trysts together. Rolling around in the grass after a long ride, kissing and touching eachother wherever they could reach.]

I am of a mind to let you this time. I am... tired. I just want to rest by your side. To fall asleep next to you and wake up to the sight of you every morning. Forever if fate would let me. [Perhaps he should simply let Maglor hold Himring for him? Now that the Gap had fallen to dragonfire.]

She used to tell me to bring you home with me if I could. [Elven mothers knew the hearts of their children and he tries not to think what that might mean–if she might have known–but she did know at least that Fingon needed his cousin and Maedhros needed a safe place to land.]

With our luck we would get tossed to the furthest shores of Aman just so he didn't have to deal with kissing cousins who won't stop pestering him.

[Fingon lets himself rest draped around Maedhros. He smells wrong. Filthy, really, and he feels wrong too but under it all he is the same man, the same boy that Fingon had always loved and that could never not be a comfort. Any day they both draw breath is a blessing, even when things are so dark and dire.]

You did indirectly make me your King, my love. I can order it if it will make you feel better. I will bear the responsibility for your absence from the world and presence in my bed.

She did? [He asks, voice full of fondness for his aunt.] She always were a kind lady.

I could live with that. Our own little corner of the world, far away from nosy brothers and prying courtiers.

[Dirt and grime and misery is the source of it and he'll be all to happy to clean it off. It itches and even though he's largely grown used to it the smell bothers him. But he could stand to wait to do so as long as Fingon was holding him like that.]

So I did. And seeing as I quite like it when you order me around I would not be able to resist. [Then, a bit more seriously.] It has been on my thoughts a lot lately, in truth. That I could leave the East under Maglor's watchful eye. I know he would do well as lord there and that he, at least, I could trust to do so without getting himself into trouble. No one could argue that there is no sense in one of your chief generals to spend more time by your side. That it would make sense that I be close at hand so that we'd not need to send so many messages to coordinate strategies .

[He truly has put a lot of thought into it. Turning the thought over in his mind and finding all the arguments both for and against it. But in his heart the only argument he needs is that he wants to. That for once he just wants to do something purely for his own sake. He wants to be by Fingon's side always. Not just sometimes, not just when fate allows them but always.]

Edited 2025-03-31 20:57 (UTC)

She did. And she is. [It has been centuries but Fingon knows his mother has not changed. Maybe she is even somewhat restored now his father might have been able to go to her.]

We always did talk big about running away and living our own lives. [And they had done the opposite... still. Fingon longs for the freedom to do that, to do whatever he wants. To bask in love and not fear shame.]

We could ask him. I miss you and cannot sneak away like I once did as only a prince. And clearly you cannot be left alone or someone will find it irresistible to kidnap you.

I hope she has found happiness again. I hope they have not kept your father away from her. His brave and noble deeds surely deserves some mercy and grace. [He'd like to think they were together now. That his uncle was not kept overlong in the Hall's and were once again walking amongst the living.]

Aye. It is a dream I am loath to discard. [Even now with all their duties binding them where they are.]

He'll probably ask us why we waited so long to ask and call us idiots. Every now and again he'll give me one of those judgemental look and sing a song with a very pointed message for me. I truly am hopless when it comes to that. It's a wonder I don't get kidnapped every time I step foot outside the door.

I like to think they gave him back to her. Surely nothing is punishment for foolishness enough as being judged by your wife for the adventures you shouldn't have gone on or taken your children on.

As am I, though we are too tied to our duties to actually follow through.

He knows I have tried, I think it will be you he is writing pointed songs about my love. Though he might have one about being kidnapped by the time we reach him. You have to stop being so pretty, it makes people want you. [He jokes.]

I'd like to think that too. [The rest get's a wheezing laugh out of him.] Oh. Oh, no. Poor uncle. Nothing Námo could do or say to him would even come close to what Anairë might in a righteous rage.

We can always hope that sometime in the future, when all these dark days are over and done with, we might gracefully retire and sneakily disappear into the wilderness before someone can put any new responsibilities on our shoulders.

Sounds about right. He does think I am somewhat of an idiot when it comes to this. That he will, it is just too good of an opportunity for him to let slide. [He turns around to pout playfully at Fingon as he bats his eyelashes at him.] But it comes so naturaly to me.

Especially not with her children not all returned to her. What I wouldn't give for her righteous judgement. [Because it meant he would be close enough to see her, to hear her, to hug her once more.] Though I fear she would drag me by my ear...

We can pretend, at least. I do not imagine we will get Turu out of his secret city to be King in my stead. We might have to settle for having a summer palace.

Mmmn you're right, being seductive and charming is something you can't avoid. Which is why your brother wrote so many songs to torment us for how I could not keep my eyes off of you and your shapely backside.

I wouldn't mind suffering a lecture from my own mother. [He says with a fond sigh. He does miss her a lot and is very sorry for not having heeded her as much as he should have.] At least your mother does not make a habit of hauling around great blocks of marble on the regular. My ear might never recover after my mother's got her hand on it.

You never know... if he ever does we could tie him to a chair and throw the crown at him while we make our escape. [He'd never do that to poor longsuffering Turgon, though. But it's a nice dream.] A summer palace would be nice. No little brothers allowed, though.

It is a curse I must carry with as much grace and dignity as I can manage. [He sighs dramaticaly as he leans back against Fingon.] He has a cruel sense of humor that brother of mine. Well, at least he's written some nice songs about us too.

She might have a lecture for me as well, though maybe not when she learns how determined I am to keep you from harm. [Not that it was working, but it was hardly Fingon's fault that Maedhros was often beyond his reach until the damage was done.]

Turu would hunt us down, he is too clever to trick. Alas. [Fingon misses him and his too-clever mind a lot, but he found some peace and was safe so he ignored his own feelings about the matter. Better that one of them has a good life than none.

He chuckles softly and squeezes Maedhros, holding him tightly.] At least he can carry a tune when he is tormenting us. The others could but would refuse too, just to make it worse.

He has gifted us with many sweet [And blessedly subtle to those not in the know] songs, it is true.

And Anairë will likely have a few choice words for me as well, but I'll bear them gracefully just to get to see her again. [Just think of how much worse that damage would be if he did not have his dashing knight to save him from his own foolishness?]

He'd be so mad... the lectures would never end. [Responsible, serious Turgon would not let such shenaniganery slide.]

Yes. The mockery is at least pleasant to listen to if you can but ignore the lyrics. Ugh! The twins would sing out of tune just to see us wince at the assault on our poor ears.

He has. And thankfully he has enough sense not to make them too obvious.

Mmn no doubt. But her choice words usually come with cakes and fresh bread. I really miss her food... [Fingon, as much as he loved and emulated his father had also been very much a mama's boy. Ever since he could walk he had toddled after her, "helping" and then actually helping her cook and bake and weave. He missed his hands smelling like bread and not steel. Or the scent of apple blossoms that seemed to follow his mother wherever she went. He missed her so much.]

It's worse. He'd be disappointed in us. His anger I could take, but his disappointment? Never. [Not after everything Turu has been through. One never got over watching their spouse drown in a near-frozen river and the sorrows that followed after like hit after hit until Turu had simply withdrawn from them all.]

They would enjoy it. And you have enough brothers that they could form a choir of discord.

He does not wish us to be exiled or strung up, he only desires to be our every musical thought.

Mmm. You are not the only one, those cakes were delicious... [For all that Maedhros had always ran after his father trying to be the son and heir he wanted, despite that role often feeling like an ill-fitting pair of shoes to him, ha was a bit of a mamma's boy himself. It had always been to his mother that he ran when he was sad or had a problem he did not know what to do with for her gentle wisdom always served to make him feel better.]

Yes... that would be much worse. [He'd feel so guilty being faced with his cousins disappointment knowing what he'd lost.]

They'd all sing in a slightly different off tune to make it a truly wretched experience.

He never could resist a good love story, you know? He's a hopeless romantic, my brother. [But then so was he.]

She always seemed to make extra, more than even her brood could eat just in case I went sneaking off to see you.

It would. And he is too well practised at it for us to escape him.

They would. Their only unifying trait is the desire to cause chaos. [Even the more orderly amongst them was not exactly calm and collected by elven standards.]

We three fools are all cut from the same cloth. Though he has stopped whining that I am getting too good at my harp now that he has Daeron to wonder about. If he talked about him any more I would have thought they had made love instead of merely heard about each other's musical talents.

And I am forever grateful for that. Those cakes truly was a marvel.

His unrelentingly logical way of thinking makes it hard to outfox him.

It is practicaly what they live for. [No, even the most orderly of his brothers was an unrelenting little chaos goblin by elven standards.]

That we are. Hopeless romantics the lot of us. It would probably have been better if they had, then I likely would not have to listen to Kano wax poetically about his musical skills.

He was the only one of us smart enough to hide his city... [Whether that will help by the end of this Fingon doesn't actually know but it has bought him centuries of peace if nothing else and he envies his brother that.

Fingon sighs softly, nuzzling Maedhros's hair and searching for that old and familiar scent, one of the few that could soothe him east of the sea.]

Perhaps they have and we just do not know it. Though that is a relationship almost more forbidden than fair Lúthien and her mortal man's. [But maybe forbidden relationships run in the family. Theirs wasn't exactly sanctified.]

He was always the sensible one in this family. [As sensible as any of them got, at least, which may not be the highest of standards admitedly.

He leans into the nuzzling with a contented hum.]

Well, they did both seem to be missing during a lengthy part during the Mereth Aderthad... [But he does not truly wish to speculate to much about that, if for nothing else than for his mental health. He did not want to know about his brothers love life.]

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