bakerstreet | A Master/Slave Meme

A Master/Slave Meme

Congratulations! You are now a slave/master.

Master:
What kind of master are you?
What brought you into possession of a slave?
What will you have your slave do for you?

Slave:
Why are you a slave?
How easily will you adjust to this new situation in life? ie, what kind of slave are you?

Run wild and have fun! RNG is not needed~

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Gold eyes flew wide at the touch. Old. Arthur wasn't just old, or powerful, he had the sensation Arthur was a great deal bigger than what his eyes told him. It very nearly sent him actually to his knees. This... was no mere wizard, nor human. What he was, Ashura wasn't sure.

Then he felt just enough control shift back to him and he let out a quiet breath. He let Arthur pull away before reaching into the fire with his bloodied hand, scooping a lick of flame out and pressed it to the worst of his injuries.

The nations lips curved in a bit of a smirk at that response, subtle as it was. So the god could feel what he was, at least somewhat.

Still, he watched in fascination as Ashura so easily handled the flames from his fire. Yes, getting to observe the former king up close would be fascinating. "Better?"

Feel, yes. It was hard to miss it with touch.

Ashura felt the wound close, leaving a faint outline of where he'd been injured. He stood just a little more at ease, even if it meant showing some of what he could do at close range. A small price to pay.

"Much." He reached once again for the fire, then hesitated before casting a glance at Arthur. "Inform me when the temperature reaches a comfortable level for you." Likely not as warm as he'd like, but... it would be better than how it was now.

"That should be fine," he said once he was satisfied with the rising temperature. It was enough to keep the place dry at least, and hopefully cut down on the coughs that tended to spread around the servants. Yes, it was likely cooler than Ashura's own homeland, but it was the temperature of a nice spring day for Arthur. Comfortable.

With a thought, he looked at him. "Are you able to heal the damage from flames as well as cause it?"

Better, yes. Ashura resisted ignoring that comment and reigned in the fire to hold that temperature. It would take a modicum of his attention, but that was easy. Child's play, really.

Heal a flame's damage? "Explain. Do you speak of damage to the land? Or burns to living flesh?"

A bit of both, actually, but how to explain that? Instead of trying, he carefully removed his vest so he could undo the tunic he wore under it, exposing his arm where the burn from Ashura's attack on his shores had appeared.

Hm... Ashura turned to fully face Arthur again, then reached out to lightly touch the burn with a faint furrow of concentration between his eyes. When had the burn been done?

Recent. Again, the sense of it being somehow bigger than what his eyes told him it should be. With a bit of a mental lurch, only one thing came to mind.

"You... are this land." With all the benefits and downfalls that were included.

So he'd finally put it together. Arthur smiled somewhat mysteriously, green eyes seeming to bring forth reminders of the fields and forests that filled his country.

"A personification, I suppose you could say," Arthur said softly.

That was one way to get a fire god to behave. Ashura studied Arthur for a long moment. Then looked back at the burn, considering what he might be able to do. "I will do what I can."

He settled more comfortably on heels, focusing on what he could and could not see. Then reached for fire to get to work. It was much slower and delicate work than normal. When he pulled back, the burn was less pronounced, likely quite a bit less painful as well.

It wasn't fully healed, but then again he hadn't really expected it to be, so Arther flexed the arm slightly before nodding in satisfaction. His people and time would do the rest of the job.

"Thank you," he said as he put his clothes back to straights, covering up the burn and the many other marks he'd collected over the years since the start of his existence. "I suppose my first order should be that you keep that information to yourself. Those who need to know already do."

It wasn't a wound he could fully heal. But what he'd managed, Arthur seemed pleased by, so that would have to do. Ashura moved back, reclaiming his previous seat on the cushions in front of the fire and letting the immediate area around him warm up just a little more.

"Of course. I would appreciate you not informing others how I heal unless necessary." A request only.

Arthur snorted. "I don't speak to my king of magic and he doesn't ask. It's how we've learned to tolerate each other," he said, folding his arms over his chest. He obeyed his monarch's as long as they had the will of the people, but that didn't mean he had to like them all. "Likewise, I won't be making further use of your control over fire in most cases."

To not speak of magic, and likely to barely use it were difficult for Ashura to fully accept. So that was why there were so few magic users here. And it sounded like Arthur barely even liked his ruler. That was... strange. Very strange.

"Most cases?" So far Arthur had been fairly open about answering questions. How far would that last?

"If I have need of your power to defend my people, I will use it," Arthur said, looking at him directly in the eye. "They are both my children and a part of myself. I can do nothing else."

He could understand and respect that. Ashura met that gaze firmly. "Would you use my power against my people?" If the answer was no, Ashura might even agree to help Arthur fight.

"And risk you breaking free from even my control?" Arthur asked. He knew how much desperation could fuel a man's ability to fight, and a rule's need to protect his people was a desperate one indeed. "No."

Intelligence. Respect. Ashura slowly nodded, relaxing just a little. "Then you will have my aid should it be needed."

If Arthur continued to stay true to his word, the war god felt he could bear this unpleasant situation.

Arthur smiled and nodded his silent thanks before glancing up at Ashura. "Are you experienced with the preparation of tea?" When speaking to a king, it was a fair question. Some had never so much as tied their own laces.

Yes he was a king, however, the simple preparation of tea was one he enjoyed when he was out of the public eye. And Ashura was far from young in human terms. Still, he took no offense to the logical question. "To my personal liking, yes. If you show me how you prefer yours, I can adjust how I prepare it." Because that was just what he had to do now.

"I'll try your method first," Arthur said, gesturing to the small kettle he kept in his room and then to the well made box where he kept his tea. "You may make a cup for yourself as well."

Ashura stood and moved over to the kettle, finding it interesting how much he so far was permitted. He set the water to boiling just so, motions adept and smooth to avoid wasting effort as he silently worked.

"Will I be expected to attend court with you?"

"I rarely attend court, but at times I will need you to attend me there," the nation said with a nod. A show of power, reminding nobles of other countries (or even that French bastard himself) what what the English had done. Who they'd defeated.

A display the king well knew. But the rarity of it was different, considering the daily court sessions outside of battle he'd attended. Ashura tipped his head in acknowledgement as he sniffed the tea leaves Arthur had in the well-made box. Not the kind he was accustomed to, but if it was what his new 'master' was, then he'd just have to adjust. No frills or theatrical display, the war god set to preparing them both a cup of tea before bring them over and offering one to the wizard.

"One thing to remember, Ashura, is that I'm only a member of the court because the king things I'm too dangerous to allow from his sight," Arthur said softly as he accepted his tea and took a sip. "I'm not of royal blood, nor have I ever married into it."

Ashura reclaimed his seat close to the fire as he listened to that quiet bit of information. He sent the other a curious glance. "And yet he gave you me." Oh, he realized Arthur would never harm the land or its people. But the land's king seemed... even more paranoid than he felt necessary with one who should be the most trustworthy of all.

A Master/Slave Meme

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