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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They are. [If Maedhros, an elf who many feared suddenly cursing and raising his voice startles the healer he doesn't show it, not even faltering in sharing his healing touch to sap that pain away as quickly as he can.]

They were bored and hunting. And cousins, too. I'm sure you both know how that goes. [Haldamir says with a sudden bright smile because what trouble were all the grandchildren of Finwë, even the ones who behaved more like Fingon and Maedhros. Fingon snorts in amusement, though his face is serious as he keeps gently touching Maedhros, patting and trying to soothe him.]

Is this helping? I can try something else if it is not enough.

[He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths through his nose until the pain fades. Once he comes back to himself a bit he is mildly impressed by how unfazed Haldamir is by his outburst. A lot of people unused to him usualy fled the moment he raised his voice, whether they were the cause of it or not.]

Oh, I do. I guess we should all be thankfull they did not get it into their minds to attempt to ride the thing. [If trouble did not seek out the grandchildren of Finwë then those same grandchildren would seek it out instead if things were calm for too long. Maedhros leans into the touches.]

It is. It's helping.

[Haldamir had still been in Fingon's company when Fingon had rescued Maedhros and brought him back. He hadn't been a healer then or even really an apprentice but he had heard the screams nonetheless. And in truth, as fearsome as the Fëanoreans were he had heard and seen worse in the centuries since. Many a horror came back to their lands even if evil never breached their walls.]

They may have, in truth. We could not get much out of them they were so ashamed. Fingon came to check on them which made them even more unable to speak. He did not even yell at them and still they quaked. [Since it's helping, Haldamir focuses his efforts on this, putting his energy into it and letting his warmth and power press through Maedhros's weary bones and muscles.]

Showing fools I am watching them is usually more effective than yelling at them. It even sometimes works on Celegorm.

Sometimes.

[Whatever the reason Maedhros was thankful for it. Despite the fact that his fearsome reputation could be useful he'd be lying if he claimed it did not hurt at least a little to see people flee from him as if he were a wild and unpredictable animal.]

Well... can't say I'd have been to generous with the information had I ever thought to attempt something like that. Certainly not in the face of Fingon's disappointment. [The feeling of pain leeching out of him is soothing enough he needs to lean against Fingon just in case he loses his battle with his exhaustion and falls asleep in the middle of this examination.]

Yelling rarely works with him... makes him feel defensive and self-righteous instead.

I'm surprised you never did attempt something like that. [Fingon teases. There had been hunting in Aman, after all, and many a brother to goad him on.] Clearly my looming disappointment prevented you from trying to break in any swine as a steed.

[Haldamir smiles but he is still looking over Maedhros, trying to see what else may be wrong other than the battery of bruises that are slowly changing colour and fading as he works.] What else hurts, my lord?

A swine would be to small for me, even if it were the biggest boar around. [No amount of brotherly goading could entice him to do something that, even should he succeed, would make him look utterly ridiculous.] And I'd not be able to live down the ridicule that would come with attempting that. Now a stag, on the other hand...

[There are other places that hurt, and not all of them places he want's to talk about. So he simply motions to his abdomen to begin with.]

I don't know, you weren't always a tree... There was at least a few years there when you could have managed it. [The conversation is light but Fingon's worry deepens as Haldamir moves, still asking when he comes to a new place if he can touch, still as tender and gentle as if he were handling a newborn babe.

Fingon had been trying not to think about it much because there were things men considered that most elves could barely conceive of, but he worries as Maedhros grows quiet again. He captures his lower lip in between his teeth, pressing the pink flesh white with concern.] Did you really try to ride a stag? A wild one?

My love if you tell me what happened I can guide him, you need not say another word. I assure you he has seen... many results of the war. He will not be repelled. Nor will I.

Managed it, yes. Managed it without looking like an utter fool? Less likely. [Maedhros keeps his tone light and jovial but there is a visible tension on his face. He knows he can't postpone the conversation of what happened forever, but that does not mean he dreads it any less.

The worst is he knows he does not need to dread it. He has nothing to feel shame for... and yet still he does. Still he feels as if there is a stain that's been put upon him by it.] Tyelko, the little rat, had assured me the stag had agreed to it. Turns out it most assuredly had not.

[Maedhros turns his face towards Fingon before he awnsers with his own mind. Bitter tears welling in his eyes.] I... they... they hurt me. They took what wasn't theirs to take. Bent me to their whims whenever they felt like it. It hurt so badly, Finno... it still hurts.

[The story of the stag is quickly forgotten, or at least filed away for another day when the mood hasn't turned so suddenly dire.

It was what Fingon had feared, one of the few evils that to his knowledge no one in Aman had ever dreamt up even at their darkest and yet it had come up time and time again here in Ennor. Sometimes even amongst their kin.

But it had never been this close to him. His eyes turn glassy but he doesn't let himself cry, he simply stroke's Maedhros's cheek tenderly and through their bond shares the immense feeling of love he holds for him regardless of anything else.

Haldamir cannot avoid noticing something is happening, but what he is not sure and to give them a moments privacy he goes back to sorting through his bag for more salves and then sticks his golden head out of the tent to ask for some water and, if they have it, broth. He waits there for a soldier to fetch him some.]

I feared as much. That placed wreaked of it, sounded like it too. There were cellars I think. [Fingon had not checked himself, he had come in, "bought" Maedhros and then sent his army barrelling down on the place while he extracted his love to safety but he was sure he had heard people beneath the floor.]

Will you let him help? We often see this in refugees and the secondborn we rescue. You do not need to be ashamed.

[Once upon a time they had not even had a word for it. So unthinkable had it been. He missed that ignorance of such terrible actions.

He'd learnt before this, of course, that such things occured. Had had to bear witness to such depravities in Angband, feared that it would happen to him also but for all that he had suffered there he had managed to escape that. Even though the threat of it always hung above him.

Leaning into that soft, comforting hand he let's his own tears fall. Weeping silently except for a few miserable sniffles. He leans into the bond too, clinging to it almost as he let's some of the fear and grief and confusion he feels show through it as well.]

It was never quiet there. The smells were unbearable, as were the sounds... [Worst of all was knowing the people who came there paid to violate them. Made a commodity of their suffering. Made what should ever only be given freely into a thing to be bought and sold at a whim, made it something filthy and wrong.]

I'm going to have to. Sometimes there would be blood... and it hurts inside of me. My fëa aches as well and I am afraid. I try not to be, but I am.

[Fingon presses a kiss over those tears. Haldamir isn't looking, and in any case the younger elf is as loyal to him as a son and would never say anything if he took it for less than platonic. Gently, Fingon pulls Maedhros closer so that he can rest his head on Fingon's shoulder or even fully slump against him if he wishes to.]

Do you want me to tell him? I can bear the words if you cannot. I do not want you to suffer.

[If he was not so hurt, so unmoored by what had happened perhaps he would care that they do not exactly make for a platonic picture right now. But he does not care, he want's this closeness, he want's the intimacy of it. He want's the comfort of his husband without having to be careful about it.]

Please? I... I can't. I just can't bring myself to say those words.

Haldamir... [Fingon says softly as the healer receives a pot of water that had been bubbling gently over a fire not moments before and a metal cup with a lid and spoon that doubtlessly contained some kind of broth. The Vanya ducks back into the tent, securing the flap behind him for the modicum of privacy it at least allows them to pretend they have in a camp almost wholly occupied by elves before he looks to his King as he sets both items down, the pot on the floor and the cup of broth on a small stool that had been places in the tent near the bed.]

Your grace? [The soft, worried tone of Fingon's voice is enough to make him go back to titles even if he had been only a minute or two before teasing Fingon and calling him by name. If Fingon and Maedhros's positions seem unusual to him, he makes no sign that he thinks so.]

The place I rescued Maedhros and the others from was a place of great harm and human vices. [Fingon begins, his voice still hushed to keep the whole camp from overhearing him even if it is almost inevitable that someone will if they are choosing to be nosy.] Being a King did not spare him the brutalities of it all. They have assaulted him. Intimately. I believe he is hurt inside as well as out. He has said there was sometimes blood.

[Haldamir pauses, thinking through how best to respond to that when this is not just a Fëanorean but at the very least his King's favourite cousin and dearest friend, but he settles after a moment on treating this like he has treated many other things: with gentleness.]

My lord Maedhros... I can help you. Would that I could say that you are the first but you are not and I have practice and a sad amount of skill in this area. If you will allow me to help you, we can go as slowly as you wish. I will stop any time. You are no longer amongst monsters.

[Maedhros waits as Fingon speaks to Haldamir, his hand picking nervously at one of the pelts upon the bed. He does not look at either of them as Fingon quietly explains things to the healer, instead he pretends he's somewhere far away where none of this can touch him. Back home in Valinor, perhaps, where it would all have been naught but an evil dream.

He's brought out of those idle fancies when Haldamir's gentle voice brings him back to the here and now. Back to reality. He gives the healer a weak smile, for the kind gentle way he goes about this.]

Not the first, no, and not the only one brought out of that place to need such aid either. [He murmurs softly.] I... I would be grateful for your help, Haldamir. And I'll try to remember things are... not the same here when it get's difficult.

[Then he looks up at Fingon with pleading eyes.]

Stay? [He begs, even though he knows Fingon is unlikely to leave him unless he asks for it.]

I rather thought you might like to use me as a pillow and something to grab while Haldamir tries to help you. In case you panic. [Fingon doesn't even bother to call him ridiculous for implying he would ever leave unless Maedhros threw him out. He understood that he felt vulnerable and stripped down in a way that only marginally had to do with clothes or their lack. Of course Fingon would have gone if Maedhros truly could not bear him to be there but he would have only been outside, waiting to see if he was needed.]

The other healers are helping them. I am Fingon's favourite, sent to help Fingon's true favourite. [He says kindly, not smiling because this situation is dire and he is unhappy at the news even though they are neither friends nor kin but there is a soft warmth to his tone like the heat of embers on a fire that had almost burned out. There, but gentle, not enough to disturb or burn.]

Is there a way you would like me to start?

Yes, I'd like that. I need to... need to feel that you are here. [So that he does not start screaming, or worse. He does not want to end up kicking poor Haldamir in the face in a moment of blind panic.

His lips twitch slightly upward. Fingon's favorite. He does like the sound of that despite the circumstances and he's quite determined to hold on to whatever brings him even the slightest bit of joy right now]

Just... just slowly. And... perhaps if you kept speaking to me. They never spoke to me. [He's not sure it would help, but he thinks he'd have an easier time to keep his head straight if there was something to remind him he was not there.]

[If Fingon was anyone else he might have felt a little abashed at Haldamir's astute observation, but he merely shrugs slightly because it is true. Of course there were older healers that were just as good or better but Haldamir had a certain warmth that still reminded him of home and a gentleness that in many got worn down by the cruel passage of time. He was a good choice for Maedhros, and maybe enough like their cousins to comfort him in that way as well.

It was hard to look upon a Vanya and not feel affection, especially when you had been raised amongst Finarfin's children.]

You may use me for an entire mattress if you need too. He will not tell anyone or shame you, no matter how you react. Though I would prefer if we don't accidentally eject him from the tent with great haste. [As had happened to many a healer before for far lesser problems.]

Ah, yes. Well your dear cousin likes to tell me that sometimes I talk so much I'm going to wear the tips of his ears off so that I can do.

You had been explaining your new salves to me for twelve hours, somehow without pause.

There were quite a lot of them! [Haldamir protested, fondly but also somewhat embarrassed.] In any case, if it is okay with you we may have to pull down or even pull off your trousers. I am sorry to ask but it is hard to assess otherwise. [Power only helped so much. It was not as thought he were one of the ainur.]

[Maedhros would not like for any of the older healers to see him, he'd developed a dislike for many of them after his first captivity. Not so much because of any fault of their own but simply because there was too many hard and painful memories tied to those faces. Besides, Haldamir had a better bedside manner in his opinion.]

He seems kind. [Kind enough that he is willing to allow him to see to his injuries without turning into a rabid animal at the mere mention of the prospect.] So I'll... try to keep myself in check.

And I'd thought he'd be immune to such by now, considering the kinds of cousins he's grown up with. [One could say a lot of things about the grandchildren of Finwë, but he does not think 'quiet' was a good descriptor for any of them.

He's quiet for a long time after that question, his hand clinging to the hem of the aforementioned garment before he relaxes it again. He does not really want to, no, but he knows it is needed. He knows Haldamir won't hurt him either.] Yes... yes it's allright. Just a bit uncomfortable, but I'll be allright.

[There was that, too, and Fingon hadn't been sure what they were rushing into. Simple captivity might have upset Maedhros but it may not have been bad enough for him to relive his years in Angband, but Fingon hadn't been able to trust it wasn't bad and wouldn't remind him of his time. There had been flashes of darkness through their bond before Fingon had been able to track him down that he didn't understand until now.]

He's very kind. I knew him in Aman when he was a child, and when Artanis found him in our ranks on the ice she sent him up to find me and keep me company. It was after I had failed Turgon and could not help him save Elenwë... [Something that exactly zero people other than Fingon held him responsible for. But Turu was his little brother and Fingon had hated to see him so grieved, and especially young Idril.] I suppose she thought I needed a reminder that the world was not all ice. [Artanis though stricken with pride her whole life was also often wiser than her older cousins. She saw them and everyone else in a way that few did.]

I would also tell them they were wearing my ears out if it wouldn't bring them the utmost joy. [Not that he truly minded people talking his ears off but it was at least a little funny to tease them about it.

Thinking for a moment, Haldamir pulls a small blanket out from under his pack where it had been tied in a roll. For Maedhros it wasn't big enough to be a proper lap blanket, it certainly wouldn't have covered him from lap to floor if he were to sit up and try to keep his legs warm but it was more than ample enough to cover his nakedness.]

We will put this on your lap first so I only see what I must, would that help? We can go a little bit at a time. There is no rush. And if you need a break we can take that and I can leave you with the King if need be so that you can calm down and remember that you are safe. I also got them to bring you some broth in a metal cup so that it will not cool too quickly.

[He'd done his best to shield the bond between them, he'd not have been able to bear the thought of Fingon feeling what they did to him, but even so he'd not been able to keep himself from reaching out in a blind panick for him from time to time.]

I like him. [Which was high praise from him when it came to healers.] Even more so knowing he was a comfort to you in those times. Artanis is both wise and kind underneath that haughty exterior, I'd send her my thanks for sending him your way if it weren't for the fact that I'm sure she does not really want to hear from my side of the family.

True. Never wise to let them know they got under your skin. [But all in all such things were just in good fun.

The blanket is a welcome addition. Makes him feel a bit less exposed and it was warm and comfortable as well.]

Yes, thank you. It... it makes me feel a bit less vulnerable. Hopefully I'll be able to get this over with without needing a break, but... it's good to know I have that option. I'll be sure to try to drink some of that broth as well, but that too I feel is best done slowly.

I was afraid you wouldn't, despite that he is saintly. You've always had a thing about healers, even before we came east. They made you twitch even when were children. [Of course that had not been for the same reasons or to the same degree, but still Fingon had worried. He felt protective of Haldamir and wouldn't have been happy if the two of them hated each other for some asinine reason.]

I can help you keep it on. Do not worry. [Fingon said, taking the blanket and adjusting it so it covered Maedhros well over his hips and thighs. He allows himself to rest his head against the top of his cousins. Haldamir offers them a soft, brief smile that is comfortable but sad. Fingon helps him by loosening Maedhros's trousers and shuffling the fabric under his rear so that can be pulled away by Haldamir who does, but only a bit.]

You'll always have options with us. [Haldamir says, softly.] I do not treasure this suggestion but might it be easier if you roll over and use the king as a pillow? I will examine you gently. No probing without permission, I will ask before every touch. If you saw blood I fear they might have torn you internally. It happens if men do not use enough oil and especially if they are rough.

A fair worry to have. I've always been finicky when it comes to healers. [Has never liked being confined to one space while people poke and prod at him, even with the best of intentions. Haldamir didn't have the same brusque manner that a lot of healers had, the types that got his hackles up like hissing wild cat.] I couldn't take them making me sit still when I was a child.

Thank you. [Maedhros says as he takes comfort from the steady prescence of his husband. His breath hitches a little when his trousers are removed, though whether it's from anxiety or for the cold he's so unused to feeling it's hard to say.]

I know... or my head knows, at least. It's just good to hear it said out loud, I think. [To let it truly sink in that he's away from there. That he is once again the master of his own life and choices.] Allright... allright. [He swallows around a spike of fear and turns, pressing his face into Fingon's lap as he takes a few steadying breaths.] Could you... could you stroke my hair, Finno? [He asks in a small voice.] I think they might have as well. It... hurt. A sharp rending pain that became a dull, throbbing ache afterwards.

[Fingon adjusts his position as Maedhros rolls, sitting more fully on the bed so that Maedhros has his whole lap to cling to and rest on. He adjusts the blanket too, bringing it around so that Haldamir can lift it only when he needs to see and Maedhros won't catch a chill.]

Of course. [He had been fussing over him already and stroking his hair is no trouble. His fingers are gentle as he strokes him from scalp through to the ends of his long hair. He had not bathed yet so it is knotted and dirty so Fingon tries to gently untangle it as he goes.]

That does sound like a possible tear. [Haldamir agrees, wondering if he will need anything that had not fit on his pack. Hopefully not. He moves closer, his hand resting gently down on Maedhros's thigh so that the elven King could track his movements even without sight.]

May I lift the blanket to see if there is external tearing as well? I will not touch where it is delicate. Not without warning.

[And cling to him he does, desperate for the comfort Fingon's prescence always provides him with. Despite how anxious he feels Fingon's care draws a small smile out of him.

He'd never doubted Fingon would agree to his request, still it was nice to hear him agree. Sighing he closes his eyes and focuses on the gentle fingers in his hair. Gentle, not grasping and pulling, could only mean Fingon.]

Yes... [He says, giving Haldamir his consent to continue his examination of him. Forcing himself to relax his body.] I'll... I'll tell you if I start to grow uncomfortable.

[Fingon watches as Haldamir gently looks over Maedhros. He's not entirely sure why Maedhros had let him put him on a horse. It must have hurt? Fingon tries not to stare but cannot avoid looking either as he works out a rather large knot in Maedhros's usually silky red hair, holding it so that it does not tug at his scalp as he works. He begins to hum softly, a song he often used to sing in Aman to Maedhros in their little grove.

Haldamir for his part tries to be as gentle as he can, talking through his movements in a quiet, reassuring voice. There was blood and other evidence when he gently parts Maedhros's cheeks, and clear tears even from the outside. He frowns, catching Fingon's eyes for a moment before they dart away and back to his bag and then the pot of hot water. He pulls out a wash cloth and dampens it.]

If it is alright I would like to clean you up a little. It is just warm water for now, nothing that will sting.

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