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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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Fingon settles in, alert to their surrounds but unconcerned. A few of his guard catch up and ride not close to him (out of respect for whatever privacy they may wish to have, or pretend they have) but keeping watch for orcs or fell men or simply wolves while their King's mind was on his cousin.
They will ride like this, occasionally chatting but more resting together as his horse gracefully picks his way back towards home until Maedhros is tired.]
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And for once he'll leave it to others to keep watch for danger. Prefering to simply lean back against Fingon to draw both strength and comfort from his steady prescence.
They go on like that for an hour or two before exhaustion starts to set in. Making Maedhros feel tired to his very bones and far too keenly aware of the dull ache of his injuries.] Finno... [He mumbles. Tired enough that he feels he's at risk of simply blacking out.] I... I think I need to rest for a while. I don't think I can keep myself upright much longer.
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He watches for signs of tiredness and is glad when Maedhros actually speaks up, right as worry is beginning to gnaw in Fingon's belly. Dawn was cresting over the horizon as he stopped his horse, the rest of the company stopping too.] Then we shall rest for a few hours. [He says privately for Maedhros before speaking to his men.]
Set up camp here for the day. We will rest and eat. Make sure there are enough blankets, send riders to the rest of the company if you run short.
[There is no hesitation in his men. They start talking to each other, cleaning out the meadow in which they have stopped, setting up fires and bed rolls and a tent for Fingon and Maedhros. It was only small, but Fingon thought it would bring comfort to his love to not be watched while he rested.
Getting off his horse, Fingon keeps his hands on Maedhros and then helps lift him off, scooping him up like he weighed less than a child and sitting by the freshly made fire while the tent is fully arranged.]
Could you eat? I have bread if nothing richer can be managed. There are more coming to help with the other rescues so there is no shortage of supplies. Do not hesitate to make use of them.
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He's vaugely aware of all the hustle and bustle of the guards setting up camp for them. He is very thankful for the privacy of the tent they set up for them, he does not want to have too many people's eyes on him right now. He just wants to lay down next to Fingon and rest.
Maedhros leans his head against Fingon's shoulder as he carries him, breathing in his comforting scent.]
I don't know. [He says. Tears pricking at his eyes for the first time since his rescue. For he'd not truly eaten in so long and he remembers how hard it had been to get used to food again the last time he'd been starved. It was unfair. So very unfair to face that struggle again.] But I shoud probably try. Just the bread, though... I'm not likely to be able to keep anything else down.
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Regarding Maedhros lovingly, he sighs, brushing his thumb over his cheek and brushing off his tears. He presses a soft kiss to the top of his head and then rests his cheek there.]
If you cannot keep it down we will just give it time and try again. I will rest with you in the tent, you can use me to keep yourself warm. [Often it was (physically) the other way around, but Fingon knows Maedhros needs time to rebuild his fires and he is never unwilling to help him keep going until he feels capable.]
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He leans into the touch and just let's himself feel cared for and protected for a little while.]
I'll try. If the bread proves too much perhaps I could try some broth when we get back home. Sleep is what I most need, though, I feel so worn out. [He even felt the chill for once. The fires inside of him feeling like little more than a few small, sad embers at the moment.] That sounds nice. I think I'll need to do so for now.
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They are making broth too, for the others. You can start with that when it is ready if you wish. We brought some from home.
We can sleep though. I am happy to hold you as long as you need me to and then a bit longer still.
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Yes. I think... I think I'd like that better. [Broth was easier. Less likely to turn his stomach.]
But... maybe sleep first? I'm so tired and I just want to feel your arms about me for a while while I rest.
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We can sleep first. We will keep this camp for as long as you need to rest. There is no rush. We are protected. [That seems more important than usual as he ducks beneath the tent flaps and brings Maedhros into the much more private space, lit by a single lantern and the daylight that skims under the edges.
He gentle sets him down on the makeshift bed and begins to undo his armour, not calling for help so that they can have privacy.]
I can keep you warmer without all of this.
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Thank you. A long time, then. I am weary to my bones and I hurt. [And he wants nothing more than to rest beside Fingon and feel like, maybe, everything is going to be alright despite all of it.
Once he's on the bed he turns slightly to the side so he can watch as Fingon discards his armour.]
Yes. And you'll be a whole lot softer as well.
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[Fingon asks, listening to see if he can hear them but there is too much chatter and horses for him to be sure. He undoes his bracers and shrugs off his breastplate.]
Yes. Much better to curl against.
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Despite his discomfort he manages to scrounge up the strength to give Fingon a fond smile.]
It is, in my opinion, the most comfortable place to curl up against. I never rest half as well as I do when I am curled up against you.
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I will send my squire to find them. [He is still taking off parts of his armour as he rather literally but surprisingly gracefully hops out of the tent flap and calls for his squire and then gives him his orders before coming back, now free of more metal which he gently places in the corner on the floor.]
We are going to have a wonderfully long nap just as soon as you have been looked over, I promise. I will even sing to you if you wish.
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Thank you. [Maedhros keeps his eyes on Fingon as he goes, simply enjoying the sight of him. A sight he had always found comfort in.]
A long, long nap. [He mumbles tiredly.] Would you? I have missed your singing, love.
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I will. I forgot my harp in my rush but I can sing for you. [As he pulls off his boots the healer appears at the door, hesitating until Fingon motions him in.
He was a lovely, golden haired elf. As tall as Fingon but with the softer Vanya features that had been drowned out but Noldo blood in Fingon's line.]
My Kings. [He says, with a small bow before he looks between them and then settles on his patient.]
My lord Maedhros. May I come over? [All of Fingon's people had already learned the lesson of how to handle Maedhros, and really any survivor of this horrific war.]
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Your voice will be sweet enough for me, but I will be very happy if you play for me once in a while when we are home. [He stiffens a bit when he hears the healer approach and he needs to fight the impulse to burry himself in the furs and blankets to hide.
The man looks kind, though, and that eases him some. He still spends some time observing him before he nods slightly in assent to his question.]
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I am Haldamir, my lord. [His tones were hushed and gentle as he approached, kneeling beside the makeshift bed and shifting his pack he had been carrying around to his front. He frowns softly as he looks at Maedhros, sure that there is more than what he sees.] What if we start with these cuts and bruises? [He asks, letting the fact he is worried there might be more sit, unspoken, in the chill morning air as Fingon pretends to be busy adjusting the last of his armour and then arranging the pile of silver metal into something that won't send his squire into fits if he sees it.]
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