Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Kara?”  Shauna’s voice pierces my thoughts as I go through the syllabus list again, sorting books and journals for the new year. We are supposed to be doing this work together, but it’s mostly just me checking over both of our supplies while Shauna practices wand tricks on my bed. “Will you come with me to the Cages today? I need a replacement for my Zenzi cub.”

Now that is startling.

“How were you able to kill off your Zenzi cub before class even started? They are one of the most durable breeds of familiar out there!” I can’t help but let some frustration drain into that comment. She knows that we need a familiar for class this year. It is one of the basic essentials, something I have been putting off, unable to find time to cross it off my list. This isn't like the semi optional list with all of the ridiculously obscure herb and berry components for extra credit in potions that I got months back. This matters, this is important.

A whole class rests on this, and a couple others are tangentially dependent.

“It’s hard!” Shauna whined back at me, oblivious to any tension. “I got one with a bad temperament, it wouldn’t work with me.” She bats her lashes innocently. We’ve been friends for almost two whole years, and we are more than used to each other’s attitudes. She means nothing by it, and she knows that I am unaffected by her usually fatal puppy eyes.

“Really.” I give her an incredulous stare.

“Even the shop lady at the Cages told me how much work and experience you need to take care of any kind of familiar. It’s expected that your first few won’t make it while you’re getting the experience.” She rushed to defend herself. She isn’t in the wrong, but I’ve been cleaning up her messes enough times to be skeptical that she wants to seem independent and capable of this.

“Still, after three… Shauna, I’m starting to get worried. Classes start in a month and we need a familiar to pass the year.” Shana’s blasé attitude never really bothered me before.  In fact, it really helps when we need to shuck some unneeded stress from our lives. But as we are about to start our first year at Majik’s Academia we’ll need to go through classes on familiars and their roles in spell casting.

I already know the statistics on their “lifespans”. Magic is draining and degenerative to a conduit, and as such to a familiar’s health. As a result, many that make it to the ages where they are useful to mages only live about three or four years after their regularized use with one Master while being take care of properly. Sometimes they’re passed around, put into holding pens, or put to use for another purpose and they’ll live longer, but this is just the way that things are done. No-one can argue with the stellar results of using familiars in casting.

I really hadn’t let this issue bother me, but with the year so close, I’m not able to put it out of my mind. It’s a daily piece of life for the wizarding community.

“You know Kara, you talk an awful lot for someone who’s never even had a pet.” She lets herself move closer to me, eyes twinkling as they always do when she has a plan.

“Shauna, you know I don’t like that look-“

“I mean,” she continues, cutting me off, “you haven’t ever had to care for one of these little pets. Big strong guy like you, doesn’t know how hard it is. In fact, I bet you can’t care for a weak mannered one for the week or so it will take for classes to start.”

Oh- so that’s where this is going. We always take out friendly little bets with each other.  There isn’t really a reward or punishment in the end, mostly just bragging rights, but that’s always enough for us.

“Alright… we’ll go to the Cages district together. But you are picking, I still have no clue how most of this stuff works out in practical terms.”

A smirk passes over her lips. “But of course.”

Chapter Text

After weeks of dallying, Shauna finally loses her patience with me and drags me to The Cages so that we can start off our bet. I suppose it was rather petty of me to keep putting it off until the week before school started.

The Cages shopping district is almost exclusively for mage familiars and pets, a distinction that still eludes me.  Many of the surrounding vendors sell equipment for familiars as well, clothes and collars along with other items that I really can’t distinguish at the pace that Shauna pulles me along.

It still baffles me to watch people leading around their familiars and pets, which look more human than not.  The only real difference is in their animalistic features (the ears, tails, wings, and horns) that show what their true nature is. After all, everyone knows that familiars are entirely animalistic, only ever looking humanoid.

Shauna leads with practiced ease through stalls and vendors, all the way out to the central market. Once we get out to the courtyard, rows and rows of cages come into view.

Idly, a part of my brain is satisfied to learn how the name of the marketplace had come about.

These iron monstrosities are stacked up in layers on top of each other, arranging themselves into high walled paths in an extensive labyrinth. At first, nothing truly notable catches my attention. The cages themselves have quite a few familiars in them. There are probably too many to be truly comfortable given the cage space, but I suppose they are removed often enough that it probably doesn’t matter. The people who run this place know better than me.

Some of the exceptionally rare breeds have their own cages, and the pretty ones get colorful accessories in an attempt to pull in a buyer. Some of the best stock is not available for private sale, only available at the auction during the night.

A guard wanders over and tells us that he can help us if we want a familiar in a stacked cage. My eyes appraise the options on the lower rungs while Shauna takes her time chatting with the guard, probably explaining her situation and what exactly she wants. She’s always been good at that, in a way that I could never hope to accomplish.

There’s a shift in the familiars, so subtle and melded into the innocuous background that I almost don’t notice. They shift away when the guard gets closer, scuttling to opposite sides of their cramped little cages as he passes them, the chittering quiets while he is near, and they all watch. I know what it is like to be watched, the feeling of eyes upon you.  Apparently, the guard does not. But as he moves around with Shauna, the familiars look away when he looks up. None of them meet his eyes, they simply become mildly more interested in their feet and pick at the straps of their simple sandals. Suddenly, I am very distinctly not comfortable.

“S-Shauna…” I have never been here before, and I don’t really know what I was expecting, but whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

Shauna has already gone off on her own, stepping up to the cages and appraising her options.

“Yeah?” she calls back to me distractedly.  She doesn’t bother looking up.

“You, umm… you pick something out for you- um, ok? I’ll be r-right back so we can pick something out together for me… alright?”

“Sure,” she called back as she raps her knuckles against the iron bars, making a clanging sound that immediately repels the cage’s four occupants. “Just don’t wander off too far, you are not getting out of this that easily!”

I don’t even hear my own response as I walk away. I try not to draw any attention to myself as I attempt to calm my sudden jitters by wandering through the streets on my own.

Eventually I start ducking into shops as I begin to feel more adventurous.

Apparently my lack of experience is readily visible to anyone who might even just be casually watching, because vendors start offering assistance and explanations for what I’m fairly certain are everyday items necessary for dealing with familiars.

As I wander around, casually looking over different items, I find myself accruing various objects. A few vendors offer training manuals and collars while others offer more… daunting implements. Canes, whips, and muzzles are on display in the front of one of the stalls leaving me very unwilling to venture inside, but the vendor waves me forward, seemingly unfazed by my trepidation.

He introduces himself as Casok, a slim, middle aged, heavily accented man who carries himself like a refined businessman. At the very least, he has none of the sloppy markings of a street vendor. The shop is a cool balm to the chaos of the outside vendors.  Rich colors and fabrics set the interior of his store apart, the air clean and light, not like the other speciality shops saturated in incense.

“My friend,” his r’s roll playfully and vowels stretch “you seem to find yourself a bit lost, I think.”

I hate the way the color goes to my face as I admit that he’s correct.  I came to the market to find a familiar but don’t even know the first thing about the equipment that I’m going to need.

“I see, I see. I specialize more in equipment for pets, but there is very little difference in their actual needs if you would like me to explain some of these pieces to you,” he offers gently, and honestly, I am just happy to find someone who won’t talk down to me.

He shows me a variety of bondage gear and fetish equipment, that much I recognize on my own. Despite what Shauna says about me I am not a prude and I am familiar with this style of pleasure, the tenuous line of pleasure and pain. However, I am not quite sure how it applies to the familiar that I will need to train.

Turning the corner in his show we see some of his equipment currently being modeled by smaller familiars. They seem startlingly ok with being locked into place without someone monitoring them. But then again, maybe this shop just uses this equipment because it is safe and tested. Using other materials for binding and restraining a pet might prove dangerous, and I appreciate the safeguards this place takes. This way you know.

A rather busty rabbit familiar takes center stage in the shop. Bound to a wooden looking bench, gagged and scantily, provocatively clad, she cranes her neck up at the store owner as he passes before wiggling her hips the inch and a half that she can, trying to be enticing.

Casok shows me some of his gags and inserts before sheepishly admitting that he does not have the extensive collection of his competitors, but he has a vastly superior quality of items. The implements that he had already shown me made me more than a bit concerned. I might know a little bit about this stuff but what “more” could there even really be?

On second thought, I’ve already learned a lot today, maybe it is best not to know.

“Hey, what’s that?” I ask, just loud enough to get the man’s attention over to the corner of the shop that I’m gesturing to.

“Oh! Well, I see that you are a man of fine tastes,” he says walking over to the indicated wall and pulling down a row of artfully designed soft leather collars. “I got these from Davenport on the North Isle, they’re made from an exceptionally soft leather with a fancy little design piece to suit your tastes. Quite a good reward for a pet.”

“It is?”

“Why yes, of course.” He chuckles warmly before continuing. “I could tell that you were new around these parts, but you’ve never had a pet of your own before, have you?”

I can feel the blush rising on my face. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

“I’ve actually never had a familiar, neither has my family. I, um, well… I need one for classes, so one of my friend brought me down here to get one at the same time as her. She, she said that she’d help me as soon as she was done so I wanted to check out what kinds of things I would need for my new familiar, but right now I am just completely and utterly lost.”

Cassok nods along with my story, thankfully unbothered by the fact that I’m, ranting to him about my problems.

“Well, let me give you some advice. I am sure you know that most first familiars don’t last. You have no care experience, this goes doubly for you. It is difficult to find the right balance between care and discipline to have a truly good familiar.” He pets the bunny lightly on the head and she keens, bringing her head closer to his hands and the desired petting.

“Secondly, you should probably go find your friend. I know myself, my friend, and I talk far too much. You have been kind and indulged my ramblings, but your friend?  I can nearly guarantee that she is done by now. Market handlers try to make sure anybody who needs something is attended to.”

He nods emphatically as if to agree with himself. “Yes, yes, your friend is almost certainly done by now. Anyway, if you keep going the direction you were headed you are going to find your way into the clothing district.” He shakes his head, sounding concerned. “I’m warning you now, you do not want to get clothes for a familiar before you know how big or small your familiar is, or which, ehe, assets you’d like to put on display.” The wink is implied as we both take a second long glance back at the bunny.

He takes a moment to turn slightly, gesturing back at his shop. “You aren't really going to need most of the things that I have in my shop while you are starting out. Once you get your pet- oh, well for you, familiar- settled in at your home you’ll be in a better place to tell what you need, whether that’s some attitude-shifting bondage or something to plug them up while you’re away. Although you may want to take home a light flogger with you, just in case your little creature wants to start its time off with you by misbehaving. From there it is really as simple as figuring out what you want to do and what you like to do. Does that give you a better picture of what’s going on?”

I breathe a sigh of relief as he finishes. This is the most comprehensive explanation that I have received so far, and it does wonders to put me at ease. There are things that I need to learn, simple as that. It is only through learning and gathering experience that this will get easier. Just like magic.

I buy a small riding crop from the man as well as a soft brown leather collar with a shiny blue bell. He gives me his card and sends me on my way as another person steps into his shop.

The two items fit easily enough into my satchel and I start backtracking, stopping here and there at merchants that I had only glanced at before.  By the time I find Shauna again I have a slightly too thick general care book and a few different types of treat bites that I was assured every pet would love- even though to me they smell awful. Shauna doesn’t come to me empty-handed either, as she is trailed by a wide shouldered bear familiar, if his stubbly tail and soft brown, rounded ears have anything to say about it. I’m not the best at identifying breeds, but I can identify the basics.

He seems sturdy and I can’t help but hope that he’ll make it.

“Kara. There you are!” She bounds over to me, the bear familiar trying to match her speed with longer strides. “Come on now,” she says, taking my arm in hers. “Let’s find you something.”

“Right…” I try to match her enthusiasm as she leads me in. It doesn’t take long for Shauna to find and corner an older woman in a pantsuit with a name tag. The woman doesn’t have a single hair out of place as she turns to address my bouncing, excited companion.

“How may I help you, miss?”

“My friend here is getting his first familiar, would you mind too terribly helping us?” The soft pout and sickeningly sweet tone that Shauna uses is familiar to me.  It’s the voice she uses to get her what she wants without a fuss.

“Oh, yes of course.”  The attendant steps closer as focuses her gaze on me. “I’ll take you to that section now!”

“Section?” I can’t help but ask for a bit of clarity. Why do we need to go to a different section? There are plenty of familiars around us.

“Oh, silly me.” She blushes as she begins leading us through a maze of turns and aisles.  “New owners aren’t given peak condition products. Caring for a familiar is quite difficult work. You see, it is a careful rule of thumb that a new owner will end up killing the first few items they take in. By giving you old or damaged goods you will have a chance to learn and get some experience before trying on worthwhile items, and we at the market have less of those yucky corpses that we have to deal with ourselves.”

“Oh,” I say softly.  It’s all that I can think of to say. I’m not quite sure what to think of her explanation, or the way she smiled cheerfully through it.

As we continue walking I notice a distinct downward trend in sanitation standards as the familiars in the cages grow increasingly more filthy the closer we get to the back. In the front the area had been bit crowded, but it was clean and representative of the good breeding and health of the stock they offered.

By the time our attendant stops us, there is no denying the miasmic scent of urine and filth. Just turning my head I can see a variety of different familiars, each bruised and roughed up, covered in grime, ducking their heads respectfully as they try to pull their tattered and ill fitting canvas clothing to make themselves look somewhat presentable. None of them have the floppy sandals that some in the front had. They are thinner and more frail-looking too. Some don’t even bother to hide the fact that they are crying, tears cutting clean tracks into their faces.

I remember a lecture that I had to sit through about the strategic importance of fear. How it was used to hold attention, decipher the intentions of the room, win wars, give control. Never before in my life have I known a professor to be as completely wrong as I now know this lecturer to have been. The fear, palpable in the room, makes me nauseous and weak. It’s almost physically painful to look at them. So instead, I bring my gaze up to Shauna.

“Help?” I manage without letting my voice crack, as if I were just innocently asking a friend to help me pick out a shade of wallpaper.

“Well, we did decide that it had to be one of low constitution … weakest by far are the common cats and the flugel canaries. Do you have any of those?” Shauna asks, turning to the guide.

The attendant gives a small, almost unnoticeable frown.

“I do believe we have a common cat variety here, but I seriously can not give it any form of recommendation. It will most likely not last the week, maybe one more channeling spell before he is no longer serviceable. We might be getting a flugel canary in the next quarter’s shipment, but I can’t say that I’d recommend that one either.”

Shauna smiles wickedly back at me. “We promised! Looks like you’re getting a kitty cat!”

Chapter Text

“We promised! Looks like you’re getting a kitty cat!” Shauna teases, already starting her victory dance.

I turn back to face the attendant, trying to ignore her jibes and just be polite.

“Could I see the cat? I believe that I will be taking him home today.”

The attendant looks a little flustered but leads us a bit further back.

Looking at these sorry sights, it’s hard to see the promise of a familiar who will be able to get through this semester. I need one that will be able to handle the strain of the conjuring classes that I’ve signed up for, one that will be a good assistant, one that will work well with me.

Right now, I hardly see any that can handle the strain of standing upright.

These are nothing like the pets at Casok’s shop. I can see no circumstances that would lead them to take on a relationship with that amount of trust. Though it does make the thought cross my mind, how did Casok manage to get his pets the way they are? Did he seek out those interested in the bondage and toys that he sold, or did he just luck out that the ones he bought happened to like bondage and were ok with long periods of it in public? Either way, it is exceedingly clear that these familiars are not of the same caliber.

These familiars are terrified, fractured creatures, though with what the handler said, I can see why. These are the creatures with many, many previous owners, passed along until they end up here, where one last ounce of usefulness is to be squeezed out of them. By the looks of it, they know it as well.  They know where they are in the market. They know this is their last chance.

The handler deftly directs us through the winding path of the cages, passing some hopeful faces and some who hide when they see us coming.

Eventually we stop in front of a small cage at the end of a walkway, right before the back walls. The handler smiles at me coyly and nods me closer.

“Alright, here it is.  You can go ahead and take a look and make sure this is what you want.”

Her voice makes it abundantly clear that this is in fact not what I want, and her voice is so infuriatingly sure of herself that even without my bet with Shauna I think I would be obligated to get this familiar just out of spite.

My new familiar is crouched on his hands and knees. He seems startled to be receiving direct attention.

His hair is jet black, the only deviation being the small speckling of white at the tips of his pointed ears. His thin, dark tail twists and wraps around his leg as if for protection once it becomes apparent that we are not going to keep moving directly past his cage. His twitching gives way to a low keening sound interrupted by small whimpers as he pushes himself further into the corner, his soft ears flattening on his head as he begins to shake.

Our attendant gives an annoyed huff just before she raises her fist and pounds on the cage, rattling the entire structure and forcing a high-pitched yelp from the boy.

“I know you’re stupid, but even that’s no excuse for your behavior! Now come and greet your master like a proper pet!” The familiar hesitates, seemingly unable to move a muscle, but only for a moment before the attendant’s booming voice commands him

“NOW!”

He whimpers, but quickly scampers on his hands and knees to the wall closest to us, bowing his head so deeply that his dark matted hair obscures his face.

“I’m sorry,” a soft, sweet voice trembles, “s-so sorry, Master. I w-wasn’t try… trying to be dis-disrespectful! I sw—swear, I’m a good—“ The attendant clears her throat, making the boy jolt to a stop, before straightening up his stance a bit and looking up just enough for me to make out his shaking pink lips, cracked and chapped, and tears trailing down his pale face.

“I am n-nineteen years old. My breed is common cat. I am very happy t-to be of service to you Master, in any way that y-you see fit.”

He bows his head at the end of his seemingly pre-programmed introduction. Though the phrases seem well practiced, it doesn’t stop his shoulders from shaking slightly before he returns to his kneeling position.

“He’s a little slower than your average familiar, but if you keep your reins tight there won’t be any problems. Don’t try to be subtle about your punishments either, he needs clear direction if you want results,” the handler drawls on as though she’s reading through a manual, not talking about a living being right next to her.

The boy hunches his shoulders, and his ears plaster themselves against his head as if trying to curl up on himself while maintaining his position.  The attendant keeps talking without taking any notice, and I almost convince myself that I haven’t seen anything.

“I’ll go draw up your papers.  You both can just wait right here, I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you!” Shauna calls after her, before turning back to me.

“You regretting this yet?”

I can’t help turning away from her, so I focus on my new familiar. He’s still shaking, ears plastered to his head, tail coiled tightly around his midsection. Now that I’m actually looking, there’s quite a bit of bruising along his jaw and the left side of his face. His oversized clothes hang from his small frame, obscuring any other details. I’m not going to enjoy checking him over for injuries once we get home.

He isn’t the physical mass that Shauna’s familiar is. This poor kitty probably couldn’t even stand without having his knees quake.

I didn’t particularly love any part of this day, with all the crazy equipment and rules I’d been learning; and my new familiar is in a pretty sorry state with his matted hair, bruises, and tremors, but who knows? Maybe once this little guy is cleaned up and bandaged he’ll relax a little. Maybe he even knows stuff from another master that he had served and can help me learn the ropes.

Maybe we’ll end up actually working well together. It’s the best I can hope for. But, until then…

“Well, I mean,“ I stutter,  “this just isn’t exactly what I had expected…”

I’m trying to answer honestly. I hadn’t known anything before. Nothing about how these guys lived, were sold, were kept- I had known nothing. For some reason I had been expecting an actual building, bigger places for the familiars, a much less angry and degrading handler.

I shudder as I think of the woman drawing up the paperwork. She’s told me nothing about my new acquisition except that he is stupid and probably not worth my time, nothing personal that I’ll need to know if I’m going to be taking another living being into my house. I know nothing about him. This entire situation has spiraled out of control, but I guess I never had a realistic grasp of the situation anyway.

I let out an exasperated sigh before pulling out the little bag of treats from my satchel.

“I did get some stuff for him though, you know, when I realized that I didn’t have anything prepared for my new addition.” I quickly fish out a couple of the treats, wincing at the terrible smell.

“Do you know if they even like these?” I ask, feeling a little dejected.  I know so little about a creature I’ll have to live with for the rest of his life.

“Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever tried using those.”

Oh, of course, she wouldn’t know. Of freaking course the one person here with experience wouldn’t have any knowledge about this subject. Still… I suppose it’s worth a try.

I kneel in front of the caged figure comfortably and ask

“What’s your name?”

Chapter Text

An unsteady silence follows as I wait for a response that the boy seems unable to give.

“I- I,” he starts shakily, just as I start to believe that I won’t get a response. “Um- my, my name i-is whatever my master wishes it to be.”

He speaks softly. That sinking feeling returns to my gut.

His twitching and subtle head sway give away that his eyes are flicking nervously from side to side, trying to gain some clue as to what we are doing, or what I want him to do. His hair and the angle of his bow still obscures his features, but I’m fairly certain he is trying to take in the unfamiliar situation.

Briefly I wonder if this is how he will take in his new home, just nervous little flicks, no questions, no raised head. How could this sweet little thing ever need a harsh hand?  No, he needs to ask those questions I can see burning in his mind. I want to answer them for him. I don’t think he is as stupid as the attendant made him out to be. He just seems scared.

Although I assume that’s natural when a man who could break you in half like a twig is taking you home before you’ve even learned each other’s names.

“Well, what did you get called before me?” I question, trying to keep my voice even. The boy is scared enough and he doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve taken on the tone of a person trying not to spook a wild animal. Baby talk is not dignified, but I’m trying to be non-threatening, damn it.

“Masters called me l-lots of things, though I-I don’t think that b-bitch or slut are real names.” I sit there in silence, my brain grinding to a halt. Absolutely nothing is processing at the moment.

There's a second, really only a second, where my thoughts go to how this familiar would be sprawled out underneath me, wanton and hot, taking everything I could give and begging for more, his pale skin free of bruises except for what I leave. I wonder if he would stutter when he cried out my name, what it would sound like in the throes of passion, how flushed I could make his pearlescent skin.

I'm ashamed of myself.

Of course I had heard stories of familiars used for their master’s sexual pleasure, but the accounts had always seemed exaggerated, and it was an easy way for familiars to get hurt. I had just assumed that in the interest of preserving the tiny lifespans of their familiars, mages would restrain themselves from taking their pets in any unnecessarily cruel ways.

It appears as though I was wrong.

Suddenly all the bondage and fetish equipment in Casok’s shop makes sense, and his mewling little bunny rabbit seems like a lot less of a fantasy and more of a nightmare.

I can feel anger coiling in my stomach as my hands ball themselves into fists of their own accord. I’m so stupid.  How could I just think Casok’s pets are there because of their own preferences? They have no choice in their master’s business. No one cares if they’re strapped down for hours on end, so long as they make a pretty sight. I don’t know much about familiars, but I understand the law and their placement in society. They can’t say no to their masters, for anything. That would be a sign of unruly and rebellious behavior that could not be tolerated. ”No” is beaten out of their vocabulary from birth.

I’ve paused for too long, as my familiar launches into a fearful litany of pleas.

“I-, that isn’t t-to say that y-you shouldn't c-call me such things. I… I’m yours t-to do with as you w-wish. I’m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to overstep m-my bounds. I-I’ll be good. I c-can be very go-“

“Stop!”

It comes out more harshly than I mean it to, but I can’t exactly contain myself in the face of all this new information while my familiar is trying frantically to tell me that it’s ok to use and abuse him in any way I see fit, as other masters have done before me. Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the rapidly blooming guilt in my chest at how instantly silent my new familiar becomes, and how he fights against the tremors wracking his body as he tries to stay as still as possible.

“Hey,” I whisper, attempting to calm him slowly. “Can you lift up your head for me?”

His whole body seizes as a choked whimper catches in his throat, but he does comply. His head raises as he lets his eyes fall to one side of my face, unwilling, it seems, to look me in the eye, though that isn’t what strikes me.

I am instantly enraptured by the deepest shade of blue that I have ever seen. It‘s so sharp and crystalline that it almost makes me forget about the bruises around the rest of his face. I think I would have stayed transfixed forever, trying to get those near-glowing orbs to focus directly on me, if Shauna hadn’t snapped me out of it

“Nice eyes… I guess it isn’t hard to figure out what its last master used it for, even if it hadn’t just told you,” she says with an amused snort. “Most mages won’t even bother buying a weaker constitution familiar under the pretense of casting magic nowadays. Shame about those bruises, though. Ugh, men are such brutes.” Shana playfully pushes at my shoulder in reprimand as the familiar flinches hard.

“Really?” I ask, genuinely surprised. While it isn’t uncommon to hear of mages having sex with their familiars, I have never heard of a mage that would acquire a familiar with the sole intention of sexual gratification.

Blue’s ears slant uncomfortably as his eyes continue to avoid me… Well, maybe this will help…

I hold up one of my little treats, just passing the threshold of the cage, barely edging into his territory.

“Here you go, you’ve been such a good boy, answering all my questions. You get a nice little treat,” I say softly, falling back into that candy sweet baby talk. His eyes lock onto the treat the second I reveal it, but he doesn’t jump for it like I had expected. Instead, he hesitates.  He’s almost afraid of the treat, it seems. His eyes actually flicker up to my face for a split second- as if trying to judge the situation- before quickly returning to the treat in my hands. He inches closer, taking the treat gently between his teeth without touching my hand, and quickly scoots further away. It’s almost as if he expects to be struck for taking the treat, but when there is no reaction on my part he chews frantically, even licking his lips for any of the residual flavor that might remain. He desperately needs to be fed. I promise myself that he’ll be getting a nice meal once we get home. I’ll have my work cut out for me trying to put meat back on those bones.

A soft ‘thank you’ breaks me out of my line of thought. I turn to look at the boy again. He bows himself a little too respectfully, head inches from the ground, still on his knees.

“Thank you very much, Master.”

“If you come back over here you can have another,” I say before I’ve even thought about it. I’m probably not setting the best example for what kind of behavior I’m expecting, but for the moment it works as his shaky limbs stretch to slowly slink back to his former place at the wall closest to me. His tail flicks nervously as he struggles to hold himself still.

“As for a name…” I break the disturbing silence, “how about… Blue.”

The familiar goes rigid and I feel my heart stop for a second.

“That’s nice, cute and simple, like him. I like it.” Shauna responds as though I’ve been talking to her the entire time. Well, in hindsight she probably does think that I was talking to her.

“Right?” I turn back to her with a tight mask of feigned excitement.  “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Just don’t get too attached,” she warns.  "Like the lady said, he’ll probably be dead in a week or so, and you have no experience.”

And just like that, I can’t even fake levity anymore as I give Shauna a non-committal sigh. Here I am, planning for the future like we have all the time in the world. This familiar is not in good condition and it’s very unlikely that something as weak as this can pull through. Still, only giving him a week to live and not even doing anything to help? He’s obviously in pain.  I get that the market is gigantic and there aren’t a lot of good resources to go around, but at least Shauna should be thinking about this creature a little more humanely. Either way, I can’t let him die in such a short, pathetic amount of time. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, but I’ve taken care of sisters, brothers, and friends when they got sick or hurt. I at least have to try to help.

Looking back at Blue, I am reminded of how small and terrified he is, trying desperately to stop himself from curling up in the back of his cage.

“Blue,” I call softly, watching his head rise while his eyes look everywhere other than my face. “Such a good boy,” I praise softly, baby talk back in full effect. “You’re already responding to your new name!”

His ears seem to twitch in confusion, but his eyes lock as I hold up the second treat from my bag. He chews much more calmly this time and doesn’t retreat afterwards, which brings some peace of mind to me before the attendant comes back with the papers.

All in all, Blue’s life costs me less than the book and collar that I got for him.

I hide my disgust as I continue to smile at the lady and sign at the bottom of the page. When she leaves again to get the keys I find myself feeling slightly nauseous and I let Shauna distract me with mindless chatter about the upcoming year. It works so well that I almost miss the attendant coming back in and slotting the key into my familiar’s cage.

“Stay still, mutt! Behave, you’re his problem now and he doesn’t have to abide by the rules of the market.” She says the last part threateningly as she pulls Blue out of the cage by his ill-fitting canvas shirt.  He whimpers and squirms but otherwise tries to comply. A thin dark colored collar is snapped around his neck with a leash. He crawls submissively on the ground as the attendant leads him over to us. She gives a sharp tug on the leash as they stop before handing the leash off to me.

“Remember.” She speaks sharply.  “Tight leash and strict punishments are the only way to get through this one’s thick head.”

The attendant warns me as though I’ve just purchased a rowdy familiar with a serious behavioral problem.

I’m fairly certain that if I told Blue not to breathe he would be too terrified to disobey. Regardless, I smile and thank the woman, just ready to be done and out of this place.

“I’m going to go ahead and go home, Shauna. It’s getting dark and I’ve… had a long day.” She agrees and goes, leading her familiar off, but I'm far too drained to go through a carriage ride with them. Pulling the paper warp totem out of my bag is the best feeling I’ve had all day.

Rest from this madness is in sight.

The activation causes a lurch in my stomach, and suddenly Blue and I are in my home.

Blue trembles at my side for a few moments before pitching forward and retching on the tile. Well, I mean, no one said that this would be easy.

Chapter Text

-Blue POV-

I feel a heavy lurch, as though someone has grabbed my insides and pulled.

It’s unexpected, to say the least. In fact, anything other than being beaten to death right then and there in the holding pens is unexpected.

I’ve been so stupid, so incompetent, that it surprises me that my Master doesn’t immediately give me the punishment I so assuredly deserve.  But instead, he has taken me into his home.

The shift from dirty, sticky floors to clean tile is immediate. But that doesn’t stop the way my insides protest our transport.  I have a chance here, I remind myself. Dim prospects and a bleak life, but it’s a chance that I didn’t have every day at that market, coming closer and closer to death.

I can be perfect, be a submissive and willing pet, just as I was with the others… but hopefully this time he will keep me. I don’t want to die, but I heard what my handler said. I’d never heard her so vehemently against a familiar’s purchase before. I must be in worse shape than I thought.

Even still, that’s no excuse for improper behavior. I just need to be good.

My stomach churns in painful knots. I can’t tell if it’s hunger or sickness, the two coming so frequently together that there is no clear distinction in my mind.

I just need to take deep breaths, Master won’t notice.

It will all be fine.

Master won’t notice.

Or, he wouldn’t have noticed if the moment I opened my stupid mouth my stomach hadn’t rebelled and made me throw up all over master’s pristine tile floors.

It’s only the slushed remains of the treats Master had given me, along with a revolting mouthful of stomach acid. But it’s more than enough for me to deserve a beating, long and harsh. Even if I do survive the brutal onset there will still remain the memory.

Master graciously brings his new familiar into his house for the first time and his new idiot sullies his floors, unable to contain his internal sick like an untrained child.

Pathetic.

I can’t make myself breathe, I’m just frozen, staring stupidly at my mess. I can feel the corners of my eyes sting and I don’t have the energy to fight the tears that I know are coming. Master is going to—

“Blue?”

My entire body flinches at that, my name. It is something that no other master has ever granted me before. Something my masters believed would make me think too highly of myself. Something that wasn’t worth their time creating.

“Blue, are you alright? Guess I should have warned you about the warp… my bad.” Master sounds surprisingly morose as he gets down on his knees in front of my mess, waving his hand slowly.

To my surprise, the small puddle starts picking itself up off the ground, forming itself into a sphere that simply hovers at my Master’s fingertips. For a single terrible moment I think that he’s going force it back down my throat in retribution, but he does nothing more than walk to his waste disposal system and take care of the mess I made, himself.

My cheeks heat as he makes his way back to me.

He doesn’t even think that I am capable of cleaning my own messes. How useless do I have to show myself to be before he simply abandons me at a street corner?

No. I can’t think like that. The sticky residue of my tears clings to my face, but I know that the grime from the market mars my appeal more than most anything else. He seems to like my eyes- ‘ just like they all do ’ replies a wiry part of my brain that gets me in trouble more often than not. Nevertheless, there’s no way to stay alive if you’re not interesting to your master. I thank the stars for my assets and leave it at that.

Master is once again standing above me as I remain in position on my hands and knees. He’s so much larger than me, so much stronger that it takes me a few moments to focus on his kneecaps and speak.

“M-master.” It comes out squeaky and weak and not at all how I wish it would.

“T-thank you very m-much. I … I know t-that I am not m…much, Master, but I w-will be good f-for you. I promise. I am in error. I d-did not mean to be si…sick in your home. Please punish me as you see fit. I truly look forward to being of use to you sir, Master.” I’m running out of things to say, grasping at straws really. All of my other masters would have stopped me in my little speech by now, either with a fist or with something being shoved down my throat. I don’t know what to do, and maybe it’s the fact that fists aren’t raining down on me, or the distant cloudy lightheadedness I’m feeling, but I get cocky.

“I don’t know what you were expecting in a familiar, but only say the word and I’ll make myself perfect for you.” After that, I clamp my mouth shut. The offending organ has brought me enough trouble for one day.

I don’t look up as I feel a hand come down on the top of my head. My ears cramp to press themselves closer to my head. Yet he doesn’t pull or hit or use his vantage point to slam my face into the tile, nor does he pull me onto his lap to take my punishment over his knee. I’m not transported to an icy dungeon never to be thought of again.  Despite my trembling I actually feel quite relieved.

There’s a gentle press of his hand as he softly ruffles my knotted hair. The gesture is meant to calm me, I’m fairly sure, so I throw any self-preservation instinct that I may have left out of my head and nuzzle into the touch.

It is rare that a master will indulge me in the gentle physical contact that my typing requires, so I don’t waste a moment of it. The hand leaves me a moment later and I have to suppress my whine at the loss of contact.

“Blue, do you feel ok enough to go wash up?”

I don’t understand why it would matter how I feel. Is this a test? I’m not sure, but even as I contemplate the possible consequences I know that I am in dire need of a washing, even if it’s for nothing more than to better appeal to my Master.

I nod my head slowly, trying to suppress the memory of hoses and buckets and freezing water. I know what awaits me at the cleaning station. There is no need to supplement with old memories.

“That’s great.” I feel myself almost burst with happiness at my Master’s positive response.

I’m learning the answers he wants.

I can be good.

Chapter Text

“So long as you’re feeling up to it, that’s great. Everything is in the bathroom upstairs. I’ve got just about everything we need, ok? Whenever you’re ready.”

I sneak a glance to my Master’s left. There’s a staircase heading up to a second floor and my heartbeat is pounding in my temples.

Had he not noticed?

Or, does he want to test me?

I can feel myself start to shake again.  Damn, why can’t I control myself better? A good familiar wouldn’t hesitate to move at his master’s orders, even if it hurt, but-

“Blue, what’s wrong?”

I can’t help the way my eyes glance at the problem over my shoulder. I’ve given myself away. Master gasps, but all I can hear is the flurry of curses from my own mind. Nobody wants a damaged pet. He’ll take me back, or leave me in an alleyway.

“I won’t last the night,” I want to tell him. “I’ll get picked off by someone stronger, or taken in pieces for an experiment at the hospitals.”

My mind reels as all the distant realities that I never wanted to think about all come crashing down on me. Stuck in an alleyway, cornered by the rougher crowd of my kind, constantly locked in a game of predatory survival. The streetwalkers are nearly always feral, and if they weren't, then by the time a few weeks were up they would be feral or dead.

My mind unhelpfully conjures up more and more horrifying and volatile scenes. Useless begging for them to leave me unharmed. Wondering if they would be the kind to take me to a facility for some kind of reward, keep me for as long as my body holds out, or use what little meat I have on my bones to feed themselves.

Or will my fate lie with someone other than my own kind?

If another person were to pick me up for themselves or to take me to a research lab... I can’t tell which would be worse. Being kept by someone who would take in a familiar off the streets is not traditionally a good sign. They are the ones who want to have you without the paper trail that leads your body back to them. Then again, a hospital or research lab would just stick me in a cage in the back of a room somewhere, entirely isolated, testing things until someone finally gives me a bad drug and my insides melt.

None of these options are close to what I have here. Even if this man beats me, uses me, and casts from me until I have nothing left, he still named me. He gave me treats when I was scared and stupid in front of him, instead of beating and berating me. He took me into his home. I want to scream and beg and plead, but I stay as still as I can as I hear my Master cry out.

“What the hell happened to you? Those look like burns!”

“I’m s-sorry Master!” And I am. I’m sorry that he saw, that he chose me, that he sees how worthless I am. I’m sorry that he got such an ill behaving pet.

“Blue.” He grasps my shoulders and I can’t hold back my whimpering. “Blue, what happened?”

“I w-was bad. I d-deserved i-it.” I can’t help the way that I choke on my words.

“What do you mean? What did you do?”

This Master deserves to know what he has. What a terribly disappointing familiar he has. It’s the only thing that keeps me talking. Knowing what a terrible deal my Master got at the market. Knowing that I mean nothing and he asked me a question that deserves an answer.

“I dis- disobeyed. I shouldn’t have. I know, I know better now. I won’t for- forget. I stood, I knew I wasn’t allowed to a-act like I was b-better than an animal. I know better now. T-they burned the b-bottoms of- of my feet so I wouldn’t d-do it again. I learned, Master. I-I belong on the ground. I can be good, I swear-“

I’m silenced by a hand over my mouth.

Me and my big mouth.

A tremor rushes through me as I wonder if he’s going to sew it shut.

It happened to another pet who served at the same house as me. They bled and cried for weeks. I never understood why Master didn’t choose to gag them, and I can only hope that my current Master thinks the same.

A gag, while uncomfortable, is much better than stitches.

His other hand moves behind my head and I have to bite down the urge to turn my head to see what he is doing. But I can’t stop myself from jerking forward at the unnatural cold of his hands as they come down on my feet. The hand comes off the second I jerk forward and send myself flying into my Master’s chest.

So it is up to me to drown the terrified scream I want to make.

I’m touching my Master when I haven’t been allowed. Why, why can I not be good for two minutes?

Both arms close around me and I find myself loosely held to his chest, with his scent, his presence, engulfing me. For a few moments I can't help but inhale deeply, scenting my Master. The smell of old leather and essential oils calm me. He doesn’t know I’m scenting him, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, but the scent coming off of him is being etched in fine detail in my mind. I can’t remember the last time I was held in such a way.

“I didn’t mean to spook you. I was just trying an old healing spell I used whenever I got into a bit too much trouble as a kid.”

He doesn’t throw me to the floor, just pats gently at my side, allowing me to stay plastered to him.

“Would you let me try again? I promise it’s just a healing spell.”

I am pressed flush against his chest, so close to him I can feel the words through the vibrations of his body. He is solid against me, but not immovable steel. He is malleable enough that there is comfort in the closeness. He is so warm, and I am so drunk on human contact that I nod softly at his bizarre request for my consent, allowing my cheek to nuzzle fondly into his shirt with the motion.

His hands reach behind me once again, but I am prepared this time for the cold of his hands.

“There. That's all. You still shouldn’t walk for a day or two, though. Magic heals the physical injury, but it takes time for everything to catch up with itself. You won’t be stable on your feet until then.”

Master slides a hand under my knees and the other behind my back as he turns me over and stands, taking me with him. Up in the air I am suddenly much more vulnerable than I’d like to be.

Still, struggling will only bring trouble... Master might drop me.

He doesn’t seem to mind my hands clutching at his shirt as he carries me up the stairs.  I can only wonder how long this leniency will last.

In the end, Master doesn’t drop me, he sets me down with care in a bright, off-white room with nice looking brown wood cabinets.

The sound of water running distracts me from anything further. Master is filling up a tub.

I suppose that makes sense.

It’s unlikely that Master will be able to stay completely clean after hosing me down. It makes sense that he would want his bath ready for him when he gets back.  Though I wonder why he isn’t calling a servant to do it for him.

There’s a slight temptation in me to go up and splash with a little of the tub water and make a cute face before jumping in. I could play it off as a joke, just to feel the warm and clean water against my skin for a few moments. I’d get smacked around a bit, but if I played myself just cute and enticing enough it might not end too badly.

Still, the leniency my Master has already showed me makes me put the disobedient thoughts out of my mind.

He’s been so kind.  He deserves a pet who knows his place, who doesn’t even think about disobeying or playing with his Master.

So I stay exactly where my Master put me, trying not to further dirty his floor.

Chapter Text

“Alright Blue, do you think you could come over here by yourself?”

A flush rises to my cheeks as I realize my Master thinks me so incompetent and dim witted that he doesn’t believe I can traverse few feet without assistance.

I stay on my knees when I crawl to him, remembering that he’d said I wouldn’t be stable on my feet, and not being stupid enough to rise without permission regardless. I may be stupid but I try not to make the same mistakes twice

“Ok. You can just give me your dirty clothes, I’ll get you something else.”

I am surprised that my Master is willing to clothe me, though I am grateful for it.

Many preferred my form bare at all times, easier to get at without all the work of undressing I had assumed. Still, I wonder what will be required of me for such generosity. This master is so kind and I can't help but keep taking on more and more leniencies and indulgences that I will eventually have to pay for. I owe so much, I don't know how I am expected to find my way out of this debt and be valuable to him.

The rough canvas bunches in my hand and as I touch it, and I am confronted with the state of my coverings much more directly than I had hoped to be. The scratchy thin material scraping more than stretching over my skin. As I pull off my shirt sharp pains lance up my frame exposing patches of bruised and cut skin. My skin prickles as I can feel Master's eyes taking in every detail. His eyes following every damaged inch like a hawk. He did not look happy.

I am not exactly sure what I look like, mirrors in short supply at the market, but I know there are bruises that colored my skin in every color of the rainbow, and cuts, along with the occasional bruise perfectly outlining a hand, the smaller oval fingerprint bruises were a little lower on my damaged hips and thighs. Master’s hand went to my lower belly and I flinch, unable to stop myself as he traced an old scar. I believe it was supposed to say ‘slut’ but master had been drunk and he’d written it to face him as he fucked me anyway.

A tremble took over me as master traced the scar lightly with his fingertips.

I pray that he doesn’t like it.

Master continued wordlessly, fingers ghosting over bruises and scars alike, as if he were cataloging them. The tracing is supremely uncomfortable. I am used to being ignored, shoved to the periphery of people's perceptions and fading even farther than that. This attention is something I have come to associate with danger. When people pay attention to you they see everything.

All your faults and incompetencies laid bare.

This is dangerous and it takes everything within me not to squirm at Master's light tracing. His hands ghost over me, he does not dig into the cuts or prod at the bruises, but the potential in my mind is so much worse.

He can do whatever he wants. I am entirely at his mercy. I wonder if it would make a difference if I begged him to stop. If I got to my knees and begged in that sweet voice that Masters like. Kept my eyes at his chest, respectful but high enough that he would still see their alluring shade. If I could distract him from my ruined body and make him look even for just a few moments at anything else.

I could suck him off.

The thought comes unbidden into my mind and I spend several seconds taking in his height, his build, the angle, and with a suppressed sob of relief the soft mat by the bath tub's wall. He is not the largest master I have served, but it's not always proportional. Stars know I know that, but it shouldn't be a problem. I am good at what I do to stay valuable, I have to be, even if I wasn't the sheer amount of practice should count for something. I wonder what it would take to coax him over just a few steps. If he would let me kneel there on the soft floor mat or if because I am being such a demanding little thing he would require I take him right where we stand now, my knees bruising on the hard, cold tile.

It's too much. The calculations in my mind are dismissed as quickly as they came. With all he has done, with all he has allowed thus far, I have asked too much of his leniency and favor at this point already. I don't think I would survive having this be denied. It would not be good to learn so early what happens when his familiar is being demanding and does not know his place.

The viewing is still unsettling, but I think I can pin-point why now.

Technically this should have happened already.

At the Market, he was supposed to view me, strip me bare and take in all my faults and weigh it against my value. Maybe that's why this is so wrong in my mind. He did not act like a Master earlier and now as he is taking his due I must adjust.

This cannot last forever, I have to endure this.

Eventually he backed off enough for me to take off my pants.

Now comes the hard part. There is no shimmy from the roughly made trousers, no attempt at seduction, in drawing attention to my better features, at hiding the grime and stain covered cloth. There was no point in it. His body language was plain, he wasn't aroused by my form, at least not now, and I wasn’t terribly excited to see what thought of my body when it was in such terrible shape.

If he was displeased with my top half, I could only hope for mercy as he took a look at my bottom half.

I could see anger rising in his eyes, so unfocused he didn’t even call me out on the breach of respect.

Nobody liked somebody else used toys, and used I thoroughly was.

The night guards at the market had been quite taken with me, there was rarely a night that they didn’t come into my cage to add new bruises and blood. They knew the part of the market that I was in. They knew nobody would care if I was less than pristine, I already was. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks at the thought. I’d long stopped cleaning and taking care of myself after their nightly activities. I couldn’t bring myself to check, as Master stared down at me, if there was still blood or some of their dried seed still coating the insides of my thighs.

“Oh my sta-“ master cut himself off holding his own hand over his mouth, eyes wide for a moment before he quickly looked away.

Huh, it’s that bad…

There were more of the same words scrawled along either side of my thighs. ‘bitch’ on the right and ‘whore’ on the left if I remember correctly, but I’d never really checked, they’re on the insides of my thighs, but I do believe it was the same master that did it. Him or one of his friends when he was sharing me than night.

It seemed the little tracing ritual was not necessary for the bottom half of my body as my Master spoke.

“Alright, I’m going to lift you, so don’t panic.” Master kept his voice calm as his arms scoop me up again placing me down gently in the warm tub water.

I startle in his arms as I realize the destination.

Is this really ok, or is Master just teasing me to hurt me later.

Very quickly I realize that the decision is made for me and I have no chance at resistance, Master places me into the tub.

I moan at the feeling of warm, clean water on my skin. My tail loving the sensation of being immersed and I swish it around as much as I could without making a ripple on the surface.

Master placed me in here himself, surely that means that I could remain here a little longer.

Master picks up a rag and works the soap into a heavenly smelling lather before he waves me closer to him. I jerk at the first contact, but master only settles his other hand on my shoulder and rubs comforting circles into my skin as he works the rag back and forth against my skin. The first few slides of the cloth seem experimental, as though he’s trying to see how much pressure he can apply without it feeling uncomfortable, before going on to lather and rinse the half of my body not fully submerged.

The slid of the cloth becomes hypnotic and calming as the scents and heat go strait to my head. It feels like the steam coming off the bath is filling my head with cotton fluff, slowing and obscuring all the rusty and malfunctioning pieces until I am only left with warmth. I like it too much to say. Master's hand keeps me steady in the bath, and though I know it is just so that I don't move and disturb his work, I am still grateful for the warmth of his hands, their strength.

By the time he’s finished, the water is a dingy and murky grey. I bow my head to my chest, ashamed, but not quite surprised, that all this filth has come from me. Master pulls out the stopper and I watch as the grey water cycles out of the tub.

The gentleness of his hands had been comforting, the pressure and strength he used had made my sore and agitated muscles relax. Did he realize how horrible and unworthy his pet was now. Was he finally aware that he shouldn’t have wasted his time, or his kind gestures. I’d grown so used to the contact in the past few minutes I don’t know what I’d do if it was all taken away. My head aches as I try to think of a way to convince him that I’m still worthy of being his, of being taken care of, of being touched in this kind, gentle way.

It disturbs me how much I want it, it hurts knowing that I truly don’t deserve this treatment.

I watch him move to the front of the bath and replace the stopper after it has all drained out and, to my astonishment, filling the tub again with more clean and warm water. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. I don’t know what I could have done to deserve this, but I want to know what I can do for my master that he thinks this is a proper reward.

I want to earn this again, somehow, I don’t know if it’s possible, but I want this so badly it is a near physical ache.

I’m in such bliss that I don’t even think as he asks for my foot, continuing his meticulous strokes down to where my leg joins the clef of my ass before asking for the next and continuing just the same as the other leg, paying close attention to the inside of my thighs.

I guess there was something there after all.

He hands off the cloth to me with the instructions to finish up as he looks through some bottles. I quickly run the cloth over my hips and dick before rather quickly pushing past my not-perfectly-tight ring of muscles in an attempt to finger out anything left from the night guards.

There was blood and residue, but all in all, I do feel cleaner.

Master returned at the side of the tub not long after that, but gave no indication of seeing my actions. I have to hold in a sigh of relief. Even though I had instructions to clean I really should have asked permission to touch my cock or my ass. Some masters seem to think pleasure stems from every touch, and pleasuring one’s self without master’s permission is asking for death.

The water moves on its own and I startle for a second before Master's hand comes to my shoulder in gentle chiding. I watch his other hand continue the familiar motions and the water rises from the bath. Master makes the ball of water levitate much like my vomit earlier, only this time he sets the water gently on my head, letting it wet my hair without getting in my ears. I’m pathetically grateful for the consideration.

Various sweet smelling vials go in next, coating, lathering, and smoothing my hair all at once. Master sits patiently behind me as he instructs me to turn away from him so that he could brush the matted clumps out of my hair.

The lack if pain is surreal. I try to think back to my last beating, had the handler hit me so hard that I was just imagining this? It doesn’t seem real.

He applies the same mixture to my tail, allowing me to try my hand at brushing. I can’t remember a time my fur was so soft. Everything feels like a dream as the tub is drained and I’m lifted in a towel that feels like a cloud on my abused skin.

There is something hard under me, something that might have been cold if not for the towel under and around me. Swaddling me like a newborn babe.

I am next to a sink.

Everything around me is warm and dampened. My mind wasn't working correctly. Everything is hazy, fuzzy around the edges, Stars I was tired. Master held something up to my face, two matching tiny little brushes, and pushed one of them into my hands. He demonstrates how to brush it alongside his teeth as I stare dumbly ahead.

After suitably failing a few times he seemed to become aware of my non-coherency and took the bush back, holding the bottom of my jaw still as I open my mouth to allow him to do it for me.

I couldn’t get my eyes to focus on his face for more than a few seconds at a time. As soon as one feature came into focus another dropped out, becoming fuzzy and unclear.

He helped me gurgle and spit before holding my head steady to keep my eyes level with his.

I offer him a lazy grin. My heartbeat is so loud and hypnotically slow in my own head, I wonder if he can hear it.

“Blue? It’s ok if you are too tired, but do you want a little food before we go to bed?”

I’m fairly certain my heart stops for a few seconds.

The question is like a bucket of ice water as suddenly reality crushes back down on me.

Suddenly I am wide awake. Being able to earn food on the first night is nearly unheard of. I’ve never met anyone who’s even come close.

Still, my empty stomach pulls at me, annoyed that I haven’t said yes while I am still in my Master’s good graces.

I don’t know what he’ll want from me though, and as tempting as food is, I’m not in the physical condition to just give a blank check to my Master. Eventually though, my stomach wins favor, reminding me that I’d been in the middle of a punishment before this Master had taken me home. The market had decided that I needed a few days away from food to make me more accepting of what the guards did to me.

I hadn’t meant to scratch at him, but my testimony was never going to mean something to them. I hadn’t eaten in two days. My body needs food before it gives out.

My head nods rigidly and bizarrely, my Master smiles.

“Good.” He says softly pressing at my sides through the towel. “You’re too skinny as it is.” He picks me up, towel and all, taking me through the door and into the next room. It must be his room, a large mattress covered in fluffy blankets and sheets, a working desk right next to it, a large dresser on the far wall, and a bookshelf in the corner double stuffed with extra books in neat little stacks around it.

I try not to let my stomach sink as he sets me on the bed. I knew what I was getting myself into, I know what masters buy me for. I busy myself with softly pressing my hand into the softness of the sheets around me.

The towel has fallen open and I can’t bring myself to correct it when I know Master will take it off completely later.

Master’s look hardens at my uncovered swatch of skin, it’s only then I realize that the open towel leaves my stomach scar visible. Master doesn’t say a word as he stalks off to the books, quickly tossing a few aside before settling on one.

“I’m going to try a spell on you real quick for your scars. Later we’ll talk about it and see if you want the rest done, but I am not ok with leaving those three…words.”

Chapter Text

There’s a flash of panic in my chest and I try to breath evenly.

Spells were never pleasant, and my Master has every right to do anything with my body that he wants.

Still never before had a master talked about undoing another’s work.

Sure, they expressed a distinct displeasure at seeing their pet marked by someone else, but they each left new marks of their own anyway.

“Ok” master says to himself as he placed the book open next to my body before pulling off the towel. I bite the side of my cheek to stop the urge to beg. Stop trying to fruitlessly plead for the meager covering that wouldn’t stop anything anyway.

It doesn't mean safety, it wasn't true armor. It was comforting to hide behind but that was only when Master allowed it. He has right to his property, no flimsy bit of fabric changes that.

Still...it was really soft.

I try not to look at the direction it’s been put aside on the bed. Instead focusing on the ceiling, trying to breath. I cannot throw up again, I will not.

Again Master traces gently over the lettering in preparation and I am suddenly even more interested in the soft white ceiling. I fear this gentleness more than any pain that will follow, I don't like the wait will feel when the comfort will be taken away. There’s tingling and warmth as master speaks strangely, it was something else entirely, magic was happening.

“Oh stars” I hear a gasp, “it worked! Awesome.”

That’s all the warning I get before my legs are lifted and spread apart. Suddenly it didn’t matter that his hands were only gently tracing the insides of my thighs.

Suddenly he was the night-guard who loved to drink.

My mind was a blind panic, but physically I do nothing. I don't like how familiar this sensation is. It terrifies me, chilling me to the core of my being. I don’t thrash or scream like my mind tells me I should. I am quiet and pliant and willing like a good pet. Like a pet who has finally learned his fucking lesson from the guards, like a pet who would make his master happy.

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes but I can not let them fall, no, not now.

“They healed right up, perfectly. You did great.”

It’s all I can do to stare at the ceiling and nod along to his statements.

I was a good boy.

I did a good job.

I made my master happy.

“I’ll go get some food now.” he said quieter, rubbing lightly at my hip. Maybe he picked up on my depleted energy. “and some ointment and bandages, ok? There is a reason we don’t always use magic, I promise. It’s just like your feet.” He spoke softly and quietly, like he would to a child.

“If all the physical damage is instantly repaired then your body could go into shock trying to compensate. When there is time to go slow and do this all naturally, it’s always for the best. Just because magic can to some great things doesn’t mean it’s always the best solution. Though obviously sometimes you don’t always get the opportunity to wait for healing. Adrenaline and the unyielding will to keep going is supposed to kick in...”

He folds the towel back over me and I shutter.

It is an entirely involuntary reaction, but I wonder if master will be displeased that his touch isn’t being received well.

My tail turns tighter against my leg. Have I made another mistake, will master still feed me. I’m utterly worthless to him. Too boney to be a proper bedmate. Too stupid to be a good study companion. Too fucking jumpy to receive his kind hands.

“Just… wait right here, ok?” he waits for a few moments before he leaves and it registers too late that he was waiting for a response on my part.

I curl onto my side, legs tangling with the softest towel I’ve ever been allowed to touch, my body has decided for me that now is the time to cry, my chest aches with the force of my sobbing.

Stars, why did I always have to be so stupid, so useless. So utterly incompetent. My face is hot and sticky as I rub furiously at it with the towel underneath me. My eyes will be red and puffy when my master returned, no matter what I do. I was always an ugly crier. Many others had said so.

There would be no way for me to hide my shame from this master.

It seems appropriate that my breakdown would continue from there. My tail coiled and uncoiled unconsciously. A nervous tick left from when I had been a child.

“Blue?” My whole body jerked. How long had I been sitting here feeling sorry for myself?

“Master, I—“ my voice cracked, my throat still tight from my episode.

“What happened Blue?” I shake my head, not willing to trust my voice again.

Nothing happened. It was just his stupid, useless pet being even worse than usual.

He set a tray on the bed and I had to swallow to hide the way I was drooling at the scent of heart chicken stock soup. My excitement greatly diminished as I realized there was no bowl of grey nutrient paste or kibble bites for me. There wasn’t even a second bowl where it could be hidden.

Suddenly I want to cry again. I know it is my master’s choice entirely how I am trained and cared for, but he had promised me food. And he had seemed so sincere in his offer; food for compliance with whatever he was going to do with my body anyway. I should have known it was too good. There's a sting in my chest reminding me that promises made to objects and animals don’t really hold much weight.

“Here” my master takes the steaming bowl and wraps it up in a towel before passing it to me. I stare back, uncomprehending. My master had never had a pet of his own before, but still… He must know the basics of ownership… right?

“Master,” the voice inside me is telling me to take the offered spoon and eat, consequences be damed, but I have a nagging fear. This isn’t proper, and once master realizes that, who knows what he’d do in retaliation.

I summon up my courage.

I’ve never told a master they were wrong before.

“M-master, this isn’t r-right.”

“what’s not right? Do you not like chicken noodle? I have some others I think, but you really should take it slow and start with some soups and broths. Sorry, I figured, well… that you were a cat, that you’d like chicken.”

My stomach growls at me demandingly wondering why there is food in front of me but I wasn't eating. Never in my life had I ever been offered table scraps of this quality. I wanted so badly to eat, but I also want to be a good pet.

“I- I am not ever allowed to have this kind of food.” It comes out as more of a whisper than I mean it to, as though I am sharing some dark and terrible secret. It’s different to push the words out of my mouth.

“Th-This is of a very fresh and g-good quality. I-it shouldn’t b-be wasted on the likes of m-me.” Master quirks an eyebrow at that.

“Well then, what are you supposed to eat?”

“they make a nutrient paste and k-kibble for m-my kind, Master.”

“Well, I didn’t even know that I was going to be taking a familiar home today. I don’t have any of the proper stuff. Would you mind eating stuff like this until I get better situated?”

Oh stars, I could only dream of a master coming to that conclusion.

“y-yes, Master. If you’ll a-allow it…”.

He waves his had non-officially

“yeah, yeah, you have my permission and whatever, just eat.”

It doesn’t take much more than that to get me to bite into a spoonful of that hot, savory, rich soup. The noodles are soft and I let myself get lost in the taste of this food that I may have seen from afar or served, but never tasted until now.

The warmth of the meal curls inside me.

I can’t honestly remember the last time I had hot food.

Chapter Text

Master moves quietly in the background throughout the experience bandaging and slathering me with a cool and soothing salve.

I try not to weigh all the indulgence that is being stacked upon me.

The nearly overwhelming herbal smell that must be a hearty salve. The weight and cost of every spoon full of my warm meal. His hands are not taking, they are warm and slow as they mend me.

There is no hope of getting out of tonight’s debt.

Between the healing of my feet, the warm bath with Master’s gentle hands working at my soreness, the food, and the medical care, there is nothing I can do for my Master that will equate his actions. Not to mention his endless patience and his assumption of my innocence in all my failings.

I am years into this man’s debt, and I have only one true worthwhile skill.

I truly can’t remember the last time someone touched me without the intent to hurt or use me. To have so much contact, warm and gentle contact where my master is taking the time to heal me is making my mind is grey at the seams.

I feel my consciousness yielding to something deep inside me, desperately wanting more but not able to vocalize my pathetic need.

I am absurdly grateful for the sharp zings of pain as wounds are disinfected and covered. They keep me grounded. They remind me that this is my life, I am not simply lost in a dream…

Then again, no. I could have never mistaken this for a fantasy.

I have never had this wild of an imagination.

By the end of the meal I am nodding off again as I had in the bathroom.

This time master recognizes it immediately as he takes my bowl and readies for bed. I almost whine in protest, I still had soup in the bowl. Chunks of meat, precious and rare for my kind as well as noodles that are soft and filling. My hand goes to my stomach, hard to press against and flat, not the concave curve that it used to be.

I have only ever felt my body like this a few times, mostly after parties where if you were very good masters would feed you very well. Though it was never with much of their own scrapes, just many of the treats that this Master had given me before.

Some weren’t for my kind, that was always bad.

If the Master didn’t remember we would be sick on ourselves and we would be taken away. Displeasing master in front of guests never ended well, but when it happened at these events it always came with the added burn of losing a night where your good behavior and willingness was able to make up for your bad behavior and consequential withheld meals.

Tonight though, allowed to sit on the edge of a bed with my master tending wounds on my back and being allowed to eat warm food fit for my Master’s table, my stomach is overstuffed in a way I have almost never felt.

I wouldn’t have been able to eat much more anyway.

I will my mind to let it go.

Master turns away from me and goes through some drawers before eventually coming out with a pair of oversized cloth pants and a loose fitting nightshirt.

At first I am confused, he is wearing nightclothes already and that makes me panic.

I search my mind for when he had changed from the outfit he was wearing at the market. It must have been while I was eating. My cheeks flush at the thought of being so thoroughly distracted that I didn’t register my Master striping.

“I know this will be a little big, but this is all I have for the moment.” He comes forward laying out the clothing and belatedly I realize that he means for the clothes to be mine.

It is not technically allowed, but we are in my Master’s home. Any rules he makes for the house can be fundamentally different from what is allowed outside. He obviously means this clothes for me, I am not so stupid that I don't understand that, and I have already called him wrong once today.

I have no desire to seem ungrateful or troublesome. He did promise me clothes. I never would have thought he would give me his own clothing.

He tucks the shirt over me and gently helps me into the pants, rolling up the legs and tightening the string to an almost ridiculous degree so that it will not fall down my legs. The task is made even more difficult because of my tail, but he doesn’t get angry.

He continues with patience and finally finds a spot where the pants will stay without hurting my tail, or letting the pants fall off my hips.

I love the softness of the cloth against my skin. It’s nothing like the scratchy abrasive clothing of the market, and it’s much warmer than being left bare to the elements.

The clothing is almost ridiculously oversized on me but I love the loose fabric, I love the way that it almost feels like a hug as it drowns me in the scent of my Master. As though he is the one keeping me warm and safe.

I recognize the dismissal in the final knot he ties in the cloth pants. I slide off the bed to my knees taking my weight, Master’s shoulders have slumped with weariness.

He is done with me.

I should find my place to sleep tonight.

I have not been shown the outside stable or the basement… I wonder if there is a servant quarter that I will be welcome in. I saw the inside of Master’s closet, it would be cramped but not an impossible fit, and a traditional choice, but I wouldn’t go there without permission. The floor is covered in a thick carpet, not soft or very fluffy, but I know to appreciate the simple comfort it will mean, that it will be less harsh on my body that cement. Besides, if I am on the floor I will be allowed to sleep in Master’s room, a clear sign of favor even after all I’ve done, with the guarantee of warmth.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Master’s arms come around my torso and lift me like I am nothing more than the folded clothes he had just brought over to me. He sets me down on the bed again and it is at this point that I know that I have made a mistake.

Chapter Text

I made a mistake.

Did he need me tonight?

If he did want me, why had he tied off the string. the pants won’t come off without me disrupting the knot.

Perhaps he wants my mouth, that would make sense.

It is customary for a thorough testing of skill, of a new purchase’s body to happen the first night home. It helps establish what roles you may be assigned, how valuable you are.

Kitchen staff cook elaborate meals to show off their skill, entertainers sing or dance and show off their training. Strong familiars are cast with their first night and can gain rank among their Master’s existing familiars depending on their ability to shake off the process afterwards.

I get tested out, used in every conceivable way to test my skill. Showing my Master everything that he might want, need, or find interesting.

I need to be interesting.

My fourth master did not find me interesting, no matter how I tried to please him. My arm had been broken by the one before him and I was not yet recovered enough to take the weight on my hands the way that he wanted me to.

I cried and I couldn’t stop myself from screaming during the night, he hadn’t liked that, I do not cry prettily. He had locked me in the basement, kept me isolated and without food for what seemed like weeks. It could only have been a few days, he waited until some traders came around and sold me off.

I’m lucky that the caravan that took me had a vet who could set the bone.

I’m luckier that he was willing to make a trade, that he put up with my crying.

Master puts a tablet under his tongue climbs into bed along side me and I scramble to make room for him as he pulls away the blanket. I can’t afford to be distracted right now.

I need to please my Master.

What kind of pill did he just take?

Usually when drugs are involved they are forced down my throat. Sometimes they make me fuzzy in the head, other times they make me forget, sometimes they make me more willing, more excitable. When masters take them it usually means I am in for a long night.

I understand that he may be tired, it is very late. But that is no excuse to try and skip out of my duties. He will do what he wants with me. It won’t be easy with the medicine he took, but I have to try and make this as good as possible for him, so that he will at least give me a proper chance in the morning.

I think of the bath, his warm and gentle hands, the kindness, the food, I want this Master to keep me.

I need this master to keep me.

Master pulls me into his arms, loosely guiding me into position as he dims the lights. I feel a nervous flutter in my gut, but I don’t understand why. I am no blushing virgin who has no knowledge of what’s about to happen, but even so I don’t truly know what to expect. This Master has been so different and I just want to please him.
The tingling of butterflies becomes a fully realized creation and stab at my stomach.

I will not be good enough.

No matter what I do, I know my bruising is unappealing. He may have fixed the words but I have other scars, I am still sore from the activities of the guards last night. I will bleed and tear and my Master will be so thoroughly disgusted with me that he will take me right back to the market.

He will beat me.

I will cry.

I will never find a master as good as this.

As willing to overlook my initial errors, accepting of the growing pains as I figure out exactly what he wants from me, as I figure out Master’s rules. The only others who would take me now are those who would take me in pieces, for dissection. I wonder idly if I would go to the school my Master needs me for. I wonder if he would be the one to cut into my corpse for credit.

I bite into my tongue as he puts his arms around me, this is it. I hope he will at least tell me what he wants. I want to try to be good. Sometimes the willingness is enough to put them in a good mood.

He lays me down next to him, sets my head on one of the marvelous pillows, and pulls the blanket on top of us.

The blanket is better than the towel.

The blanket is thick and fully covers my body. It is warm and with my back pressed against his chest he doesn’t have to see the way that I clutch at the fabric. The way I run it reverently through my hands

I can feel the shaking in my limbs start, I don’t know what to do.

I am confused. This is not a position that I can service him from, not with my mouth anyways.

“M-master?” I hear my voice tentative in the calm and quiet atmosphere. I don’t want to disturb the peace of the moment, but I need to know. I need to know how my Master intends to use me, I can’t be taken by surprise. I can’t cry again.

“yeah…” I hear a tired reply. I want to apologize instantly, Master is tired and I am disturbing him.

My body twists as I squirm in his arms in order to face him. His eyes are half lidded and he doesn’t seem to care about my breach of conduct.

“m-may I service you Master?”

He still enclose me in his arms, holding me close and I can feel the radiant warmth that spreads throughout my body, his legs tangle with mine so that even my toes are warm. Though I can’t move.

His smile is crooked as he simply shakes his head

“I am too tired to handle any kind of service right now Blue.” His hand cards through my hair in a calming gesture, “let’s just get some sleep, ok?”

He doesn’t release his hold on me, and he certainly doesn’t push me away. It’s not proper for me to be in his bed without servicing him, it isn’t proper for me to be on any kind of furniture unless I am being used or displayed.

I’m too tired to argue anymore about my placement and what things are proper, though my ears do give a confused twitch.

I think, distantly, that I had a dream like this once. It’s soft and the firmness of the bed cradles my abused body, my master resting so near to me that his body heat makes the entire place warm.

Master seems tired too, seemingly asleep before I have another chance to speak.

My fingers play with the soft sheets, experimenting with the give of the mattress. You have to be good to earn a fuck in Master’s bed, you’d need to be a favorite for them to let you rest at the foot of it without punishment, but I’ve never heard of someone indulging even their favorite in this cuddling.

Master is asleep, he doesn’t want me tonight, perhaps because he wants to try me in the morning. He’s letting me have a favorable place in the bed so he can have full access when he wakes. Which is entirely ridiculous, plenty of other masters have had the same intentions when they made me sleep on the floor next to their beds, or in the lock closets in their rooms

. Whatever his reason, this master is beyond anything I could have every hoped for. I’ll gladly do anything he wishes.

Here in the bed, It’s soft and warm.

I’m asleep before I know it.

Chapter Text

POV: Kara

I wake up with a warm body snuggled against mine, and for one terrifyingly incoherent moment I couldn’t remember who was beside me or how they got there.

I rarely drink or pick someone up and I couldn’t remember going anywhere last night. I got up yesterday, met with Shauna, and we…

Went to the Cages Market, oh…

I looked down to where two ears poke out from under the blanket. Blue had pressed himself against me in his sleep, his smaller body only just able to reach my chest with his legs tangled in mine.

I could barely remember anything last night. I recognize the groggy felling in my head and the lack of immediate recall of the last night's events. It's one of the side effects of my sleeping pills. It's supposed to be exceptionally rare as a side effect, but I have always been... exceptionally lucky that way.

I hate taking the sleeping pills but I know when I need them, and I trust myself to know that last night the pills were necessary.

I pull back the blanket, too tempted to sleep in and cuddle with my new familiar.

It is morning and I have things to do.

But that doesn’t mean that I have to wake up my new companion. With his face slack and the rest of his body relaxed, he looks at peace for the first time since I have met him. I can’t bring myself to ruin the perfection.

Even if the bruising does spoil the picture.

I extract myself carefully, untangling our intertwined limbs and pulling away to the edge of the mattress.

Blue looks tiny in that bed all alone. His skeletal frame whimpering softly at the loss of my body heat. I can’t help but smile as his hands reach out blindly capturing a pillow. There’s a contented sigh as he nuzzles into the pillow’s fluffiness. I want to stay in bed more than ever.

I resist.

The fluffy comforter buries Blue as I tuck the covers around him again, this time leaving his face fully uncovered. There’s a pink tinge to his cheeks that wasn’t there yesterday.

I hope that actual progress has been made, and it’s not just my vivid imagination. I leave a hastily scribbled note on the mattress where I once was. I don't want Blue to panic if he wakes up and doesn't know where I have gone. I keep it short and simple.

*Blue,
I am downstairs if you need me. Stay in bed if you want, or if you feel like coming down you can join me.*

The full light of the morning gives my eyes some difficulty adjusting as I step outside to my garden. All manner of fruits, Vegetables, and herbs splay themselves out covering every corner of my ever shrinking backyard space. Though it is the fall, nature's one last rallying cry before the winter. Loose ends tied up and lots of maitnence to finish up in preparation for winter.

I don’t particularly mind, this area keeps me grounded.

Seeing nature’s magic helps me with my own craft. Not to mention the fact that every single one of my plants overproduces. The wild magic is strong, ties into the land and currents of the wild. If I lived a good century or so ago I would have been known as a hedge mage, I would be done with my studies, and would have lived without all the stigma attached to the title. As for now, the world just sees a hobby garden that got out of hand. Just another eccentric hobby that makes me a little... odd.

Just a bit outside the norms... Just like always.

At any rate , all of the area’s mages love to have those warm, full, homegrown ingredients to add a little extra life to their spells. For some reason the grown in bulk supplies never have the richness of my produce. I like to believe that it’s because my plants get to know me. Attitudes and magic frequencies can have impacts on spaces, why shouldn’t they have effects on plants.

My mind fades as I go through the motions, weeding and watering. Paying special attention to each plant before going to what makes my garden truly special.

I have a large pond in the center of all the greenery. It’s a place to cool off on hot days, but it also holds one of my greatest treasures.

Today there are three Almac swans.

Each one of them shine like diamonds as they effortlessly swim to the edge near me.

They are not mine. They don’t belong to anyone. No one has ever been able to successfully raise Almacs in captivity.

Their will is iron and their needs, finite.

That are creatures of magic.

Every part of them holds a special value and power. Feathers gathered and eggs are two of the most treasured. Feathers gathered unwillingly, however will loose all of their properties and eggs stolen from the nest turn into nebulous pits of dark energy.

Nasty business if you ask me.

Almacs generally stay away from inhabited areas and they are usually too rare to be found anywhere other than a major source of natural magic. Yet some always find their way into my pool. I do my best in turn to make sure that they enjoy their stay. It brings me absolutely no trouble to set out seeds and grow tamer varieties of pond plants to make them feel at home. Just getting a glimpse of one in the wild is rarer than any gem, so it is my proudest accompaniment that they actually seem to like it here, and they don’t mind when I take a dip in the pool.

I nearly had a heart attack the first time they gave me a gift.

I have gotten better at being gracious about it but the action always makes me extremely giddy.

Today, the smallest of the three is bracketed by the other two, glaring from side to side to check the status of their companions as they made their approach. It reminds me of Blue and I feel a pang in my chest.

They stop just in front of me and I try to be casual as I crouch before one of the rarest magical creatures. The two companions presented feathers to melon entirely platinum white, the other had the sides tinged a light blue.

Stars they are gorgeous.

Their tails flick happily as they make short honking noises. I thank them profusely before they turn to their friend to give them an encouraging bump. I have seen this before, this Almac is new. The veteran travelers who have been here many times before have learned I’m trustworthy and help the new ones learn to trust me. All the nervousness probably comes from being somewhere new and unfamiliar.

The Almac stretches out it’s neck waiting a few seconds before I realize that it wants me to put my hand out. It isn’t until then that I realize that it had an egg in its mouth. I let the oddly familiar weight settle on my palm. It is small, pearlescent, and beautiful.

The Almac seems to agree as it let out a mournful croon, nudging the egg with its beak.

“You don’t have to.” I can’t stop the words coming out.

I’ve had to watch Blue work through his fear and do things he obviously doesn’t want to do or feel comfortable doing. I’ve had more than enough to last me my whole life, possibly more.

“I- You don’t have to give me this. Really, it’s ok if you want to keep it. I don’t mind at all. This is a big garden, you can build a nest here no problem.”

It seems shocked at the suggestion it would stay here.

“I-I only suggest because, well, I assume it’s hard to fly with an egg in your mouth.” I try to joke around. humor has always been my escape, at least, when given the choice.

The companions give an odd look to the middle one. Maybe broodiness is not normal in an Almac, but I’ve seen it in just about every other type of bird.

“you want this egg” I can’t help the way I say it as a fact, I know I’ll feel like monster if I even consider taking it.

“There’s no-one better to have it.”

The Almac flaps its wings excitedly and the two Almacs seem happy for it. They seem to have strange social workings that I’m still trying to make out, but they are uncannily smart, and I know from talking to myself in the garden too much that they understand human speech.

I am allowed to hold and cradle the egg as all of the other gather soft mosses and reeds, building a nest.

I’ve never seen this before and I know that over the next couple of days I’ll need to get my sketchbook out here.

I set the egg down in the nest and the Almac sits down proudly, eyes shining. I busy myself with with bringing out a notebook and detailing the encounter.

Eventually I speculate that the Almac either had no where safe to keep the egg or they didn’t have a high enough social standing to qualify for space in the typical nesting grounds. Either way my heart soars thinking that they think of my little pond as a safe space to nest.

Which makes me wonder why they had tried to give me the egg to begin with. Did they think that I wouldn’t let them stay, wouldn’t let them nest here? I watch as they chirp happily at the nest.

Perhaps they were worried, maybe they just wanted to make sure that it was ok?

The last two questions of the entry remain. I had looked for books on their behavior and needs years ago, though apparently I am the leading official on how they behave naturally. Most researchers speculate without ever having seen one.

I have half a dozen journals detailing each encounter and speculation. Everything from diet to social protocols.

I haven’t published a single one.

If I did, they’d ask to see my proof, where I got evidence, that I didn’t just make up these stories. For some almost selfish reason, I can’t give up this paradise just to publish a journal. I close the book and leave the Almacs to their ways, I have another creature that makes no sense to me.

The entirety of Blue’s being confuses me, everything from how he acts to what he expects, to what to feed him, to how to heal him, it worries me. But thankfully, there are more reliable sources for information on this.

My house is a tad big, a gift from my aunt. But I , thankfully, don’t have much clutter. It doesn’t take much time to find my satchel with the general care book inside. I settle down on the couch like I would with any good book.

The feeding section catches my attention and I skip the first few chapters in order to take a look at that little necessity first. After all, I’m pretty hungry and I’m sure that Blue will be once he wakes up.

The first few lines make me frown.

I’m fairly certain that one meal a day in the case of good behavior will not suffice to keep my familiar well fed and happy. It warns that table scraps, while nice treats, can not be overused lest the familiar become proud and think it deserves food off their master’s plate. Insisting that letting them eat from a plate like their masters will only make them disobedient as they begin to think better of themselves. The rest is ways to deny food or use it as a punishment, listing all sorts of training exercises and tips. One bright highlighted “try at home” tip suggests to let a familiar eat food from a plate having dusted a special powder on top to force them to vomit, and then to continue beating them to help them understand their place.

I want to be sick.

There’s a recipe at the end for a simple DIY nutritious meal for your familiar. Just reading over the ingredients list I know it will be horrible. I can’t help but wonder if this is the “proper” meal that Blue was talking about last night.

Well, unfortunately for him, his "master" enjoys cooking and and won’t let him eat garbage.

He deserves better, I’ve known him for less than a day and I know that.

I read a few more introductions and chapter titles but the queasiness does not go away. If anything, it worsens. The book lists horrific punishments and games to make familiars more humble, more submissive, more subservient to their masters. All this wanton cruelty in the name of training. Abuse, valued and respected, for the sake of “proper training”.

I have no idea how I am supposed to be able to do these things. They are treated like they don’t have needs; Physical, psychological, or emotional. Nothing is too much, nothing is inhumane. There’s nothing in place to take care of them. If one isn’t working out the book suggest putting them down or returning them, or if they come form exceptional breeding stock, a professional training center.

This is the world I’ve joined.

I don’t want this to become normal.

I don’t want to see my classmates beating their familiars for any of the minor incidents or infractions that the booklists. I don’t want to get used to watching as others join in. I can’t watch a familiar get raped out in the open as if it were nothing, solely to reaffirm another’s control over them as a suitable punishment for speaking out of turn.

Just imagining it I knew I was going to be having nightmares. Stars, how long had I been ignorant to this as a way of life. Granted my family knew nothing of the inner workings of mages, but people had pets, sometimes they would take familiars just for the prestige.

Was there any difference in how they were treated?

Not according to the book.

Suddenly it made sense that all of Shauna’s familiars died. It would be hard, going by the book, trying to find the right amount of food and rewards to balance out the negligence and abuse that the book states is required.

I realize with a start, that everyone will have read similar training manuals, was this kind of cruelty unavoidable, just something I would have to live with knowing?
My thoughts drifted to Blue, how small and fragile he had looked in that bed. He didn’t deserve to go through this, no one did. He deserves to sleep on a bed with the warm comforter, not in some closet or basement like the books says, no matter how “proper” it is.

My definition of caring for a familiar actually includes caring for a familiar funny enough. But everyone else…

Well, I am not everyone. I’m quirky already. I got through my years being different, being odd, and while I had hoped it would come to an end this year, I won’t do it for this high a price. What’s one more differing opinion anyway. Each section of the book restates how it is my familiar and their behavior and treatment is entirely dependent on me. How I could customize any of these tracks the way I want. I am the owner, I am in charge.

I can do whatever I want with Blue, and as terrifyingly final and open ended as that final statement is, I smile.

I am good at taking care of things.

I feel lighter that I have been in a while as I leave the book to check on Blue.

It has been a few hours and I want to make sure he feels stable enough to try and eat with me. We probably won’t be able to go out to get him clothes yet, I try not to feel disappointed.

He’ll have to wear some of mine until then, but I honestly can’t wait to see him curled up in some clothes that fit him.

Without another thought I walk into my bedroom, ready to face the day with my new familiar.

Chapter Text

Blue POV:

It takes me an embarrassing amount of time for me to realize I am awake.

I’m unused to the natural process of waking slowly or peacefully. If the duties I am given do not require a shrill alarm well before dawn that throws me form my blessedly unconscious state, my relatively peaceful sleeping hours are broken up when my current master decides that his lazy pet has gotten more than he deserves.

I shutter remembering what was done when I had “kept him up with my coughing”, I had never wished for thicker closet doors more in my life.

He wouldn’t have heard me if the doors had been just a little thicker.

I’m too used to being awakened in the midst of a dick shoved down my throat or up my ass to even recognize the soft surroundings as anything more than a dream.

I have had this dream before, though nothing this clear. Where I had served my master to the best of my abilities for the night and instead of being roughly thrown off the bed directly after, they’d be so pleased with me that they’d let me stay in their bed.

Not the whole night, I know the rules. But, just an hour or so. Cradled in the softness of their bed that I was so unworthy of. I dreamed that maybe I’d done so well, that in a moment blind bliss my master would allow me something to rest my aching hips on. That they would… hold me, after the act, and if not hold me then at least tolerate my body next to theirs for warmth.

But this is not a dream. I feel my aches. There is no-one next to me, and I am scared. This is not a memory of sheets tinted by violation, this is real. I am in a bed, tucked snuggly under a blanket.

I am panicking.

There are pillows around and above me, under my head and in my arms. A thick, warm, good blanket, covering my body, keeping out the cold. Too good and high quality to be cast offs, smelling too strongly of my new master for that to even be a possibility. And my new master, nowhere to be seen.

Surely he must have put me here. He must have wanted me on the bed. Moving would disobey his orders. But I don’t remember being ordered to be here, I don’t remember a command to stay.

What if I was supposed to get up?

What if master is up already and furiously mad with me for sleeping in.

I can’t think of a reason for him to tuck me under the covers, and he certainly wouldn’t appreciate me on his pillows, clinging to one like a child.

Had I moved in my sleep?

Did master leave me in a specific position? Did he give me any orders for when he returned?

My head aches, along with every other part of my body. Bandages pull tight across my skin as he as I try to sit upright and I am reminded that this master was so exceptionally kind with me the night before, despite all of my failings. I don’t want to disappoint this master.

I want to stay in his good graces, enjoying every strange privilege that he’ll allow me, for as long as I can.

So I need to keep deluding this man into thinking that I am good. It will not last long. I am bad, and that won’t be fixed overnight, not matter how much I wish that it could be.

I only hope that I haven’t already fucked up
.
He seems bizarrely willing to put up with my failings and I can’t help but have my suspicions. Is this all a test? It makes the most logical sense, he must want to test wether or not his new pet is up to his standards.

He is a mage, so he might need other things than some of my other masters. Very few of my master have been actual mages, though many have been magic capable. I start wracking my brain, trying to remember rules and specifications that my other magic capable master had required, but I fall short.

Like you do in most things, my brain unhelpfully reminds me.

They hadn’t really needed anything different from me. Then again I wasn’t one of their main casters. I was a toy bought for the novelty, for their amusement. There were other, stronger familiars that got to leave the house. They were the ones who probably had to memorize different rules.

They were good.

I, on the other hand, was not good or strong.

I barely remember anything other than being used as a toy, occasionally being used to try out a new channeling spell.

I feel goosebumps all over my skin rise as I try not to think of the blinding, ripping, agony as I realized exactly why familiars only last as long as they do. Magic is consuming and painful and I am already too weak.

I don’t want to think about how that won’t matter to Master. How he will use me regardless of my physical state, just like the others.

It makes it all the more important that I stay on his good side.

My hand hits something that makes a loud crinkling sound under it. It is not soft like the bed, but does not hurt like I have broken something. My addled brain recognises it a half second later as parchment. I bring the piece of paper to my face, black ink scribbles and symbols I recognize as writing litter the page, but the message seems short.

I wonder if it is instructions.

I furrow my brow at the paper smoothing it in my hands and staring over the curves and edges of the lettering again, willing it to make sense. I cannot read, none of my fellow pets were ever taught. I do remember one familiar that had known how to read but she made us promise never to tell anyone.

Now I wish I had begged her to teach me her forbidden talent. There is no way that I can interoperate whatever message Master has left for me. I am left to my own devices.

What would Master require of me in the morning?

There is no way that master could have meant for me to stay in his bed, it is not an acceptable place for me. I should have removed myself long ago.
Not a second to soon, I land dully on my knees, pain zinging up my legs from the impact as the door opens.

I nearly jump as my master comes in, smiling and seemingly energized. He’s been up for a while, I just hope he doesn’t think I’m being lazy.

He’s in a good mood, and I want to keep him that way.

“hey there Blue, I’m glad you’re awake.”

His voice is the same as I remember, kind and soft but strong, not a hint of malice

“G-good morning Master”.

He continues to smile warmly as he glances towards the covered windows of the room.
“Not quite morning anymore, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

My stomach churns uncomfortably. Just how late did I sleep in? Is master hiding his anger, willing to give me a chance to grovel before proceeding?

“I-I’m sorry Master, I did n-not mean to sleep in. Please, punish me as you see fit.”

My fingers dig into carpet and my ears tilt fully downwards, fear and submission, please let it be enough. I don’t remember a time when my duties ever let me sleep in past my master. Even then, I don’t remember feeling safe enough to do so anyway. It must have been the bone deep exhaustion paired with my wounds that let me sleep so soundly.

Ignoring the multitude of rules I was breaking.

“Oh, come now Blue. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not going to punish you for that.”

His voice is softer now projecting honesty when I know in the core of my being that he is lying through his teeth. Or rather maybe not. He won’t punish me for this infraction, that I believe. He has plenty to catch up on first before he can get down to punishing this.

He’s good at prioritizing.

I nod slowly, the silence seemingly requiring some acknowledgement. My ears press so firmly against my hair I swear I can fell them digging into my scull, fighting with my instinct to protest.

“I just came up here to see if you would be ok to join me for breakfast.”

“O-of course Master, I can see to my duties.”

Chapter Text

I am not so horrifically broken that I can no longer serve a purpose. I can only hope that my master thinks the same. Though, considering the state I arrived in I cannot fault him for thinking this. As bruised, beaten, and horribly weak, as I came to him, he had taken a chance on me. Given me food, medicine, rest; far more than I deserve.

I just need to find a way to show him that I am worth keeping.

I need a way in.

Inserting myself into his schedule and improving his life will ensure that he sees me as something valuable. Something worth keeping.

Breakfast is the perfect start.

I can serve him his meal and wait on him as I had for a few other masters. Maybe I could kneel beside him and goad him into allowing me to give him a blowjob. My oral talents always earned praise. Maybe he’d let me have some of his table scraps as a reward…

I just want him to be pleased with me. Willing to keep me despite my sorry state.

“it’s not so much duties as breakfast” master chides gently.

I nod, trying to understand the distinction he’s just made.

“Of course. Sorry Master, it would be… my honor?”

Master doesn’t question the tremor in my voice and I almost sigh with relief as he smiles again. My eyes pull down to myself, to the floor where they belong as I realize I am covered in more bandages than I remember being put on. My throat is scratchy and I want to cough again. I repress the urge.

My knees are raw and burning from the weight but I am pleased with myself that haven’t made any noise.

His steps shuffle too loud in my mind despite the soft carpet of the room as he stops in front of me.

“Blue, I—you don’t need to be on your knees. Besides, you’ll need to test your weight on your feet.”

Master’s arms thread under mine as he pulls me up gently, stabilizing me with his body. The bottoms of my feet still ache, especially pressing all of my body weight on them, but I am still in awe that I am able to stand at all. I hadn’t expected to live long enough for the wounds to scar and heal naturally, but in my wilder imaginations I thought that I might spend the rest of my time learning to clean and tend to my master’s home and property on my knees, hoping that the next master to buy me might have use for me despite the handicap. After all, to many masters I spent so much time on my knees that I might as well not be able to walk.

“Blue? Come on, you have to talk to me. Does it still hurt?”

Orders sound so strange coming from him.

“N-no, No. It… it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The bottoms of my feet are still a little sore, but it is negligible compared to what it had been in the past.

“Good”

Master smiles again and I hold in another sigh of relief.

I am learning.

Learning what a new master wants to hear is never easy

“I want you to walk normally today and make sure that your feet are really ok. If it starts to hurt, sit down and tell me. Alright?”

I nod along with this, unsure really what to make of the order. Unsure really what to make of the order, unsure if it will get me into trouble to speak or if I will be more trouble to keep it to myself.

Master steps away from me and gestures for me to follow behind him.

It takes everything I have not to fall to my knees. I stay on my feet, instincts screaming that this is a trap, but I can’t bring myself to disobey the order I’ve been given.

He leads me to a pristine kitchen that seems well used despite being entirely clean and free of clutter. Master takes up a few bowls and pans before grabbing a board and motioning with his knife, pointing me over to a table with a soft order to sit.

I take the loosely veiled threat for what it is and head over to the table.

For a moment I panic, where is master’s seat? Which chair do I kneel beside?

In a split second I register that it is fairly obvious that my master would sit at the head of the table, especially in his own home. With one side significantly further than the other, the choice is clear. It was a fairly simple puzzle, but a puzzle none-the-less.

Master wants to see if his pet is smart. That I can pick up on his wants and needs without explicit orders being given.

I kneel by his chair and let out a small breath as I relish the way the weight is off my bruised knees when I sit on my heels. My tail curls around me softly. Just trying to take up less room, taking in the comfort of the warm kitchen and the light pouring in from the window.

“Blue, what are you d…” Master does not complete the sentence but I am tense none-the-less. Did he not want me here? Was my relaxed kneel too presumptuous?

I hear things clink down on the countertop before master makes his way to me. My breathing is shallow and quiet as possible and my ears are pulled against my head as he makes his way to me.

I try very hard not to think about his knife.

About the cold slash of steel making me bleed.

I heard clinking. He probably put the knife down.

I’m ready for his fists, for my master’s strike. But he only comes closer and ruffles my hair softly. His fingers sliding through my long detangled locks much more easily this time. I wiggle, nudging further into this contact, trying to chase the soft pressure of his hand.

I made the right choice. Master is rewarding me.

Completely sitting up on my knees as I was chasing his affectionate touches, I found that my face was directly level with his hips. I could not have planned this better!

In a very calculatedly forward maneuver I nose at the hollow of his hip. Working up the courage before turning my face and rubbing my cheek against the rough material of his pants.

Something was wrong.

I peak up at him from under my lashes trying to discern why this was not progressing the usual way. The daring and completely improper move showing my confusion. Masters face was not one of lust or even one of encouragement and excitement as I had expected.

He portrayed confusion that a man of his position really should not have.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. Maybe he wants to see my skills without the direction of his orders. Some have ordered this before. I am not the best at coming up with these scenes, not the most creative or daring, but I know what makes people feel good, and I have been told what looks good.

My eyes go half lidded and I force all the tension out of my body. I can play the soft, lustful pleasure slave. I have before, I can do it again.

Perhaps I can play it better than before since I have been given warning this time...

I only hope the performance is enough for my master, that I can meet his standards. My mouth ghosts over his crotch and I let out a heated breath moaning low in my throat. I nose at the hollow of his hips again, many like the teasing motion, I pray he does. My face raises as high as I dare to show off the eyes I know he loves.

“How may I please you, Master?”

I am not braced for his forceful push and I stumble back before loosing my balance completely and falling, rather ungracefully on my ass. I look up confusedly to my master, not even taking a moment to consider that this might further enrage my master.

What did I do wrong?

But master doesn’t look angry. In fact, he looks scared. He’s breathing fast but I recognize the look in his eyes. It’s the same as mine when the guards stop at my cell.

There’s a shift and my master takes a deep breath, shifting back a pace or two.

“Right, no… that’s. You were— you were trained for that, it’s— it’s ok.” He sounds more like he’s assuring himself than anything else, but it also puts my mind at ease.

It isn’t that he doesn’t want me, I have just, caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting my actions in the kitchen, or perhaps at this time of day. I’ve had masters with those peculiarities before.

Though, I’ve also had the kind that take me with no rhyme or reason.

Master scratches me again behind the ears, only for a few seconds this time, and turns to the counter before reminding me of my previous order to sit and wait.

Master moves in the uncluttered space with practiced ease and confidence that must make his cook jealous. He seems happy focused on his task and I hear the knife going strong against a cutting board. Something sizzling against a pan and the aroma in this room makes my mouth water.

I try to shut off that part of my brain.

He’s been nice enough already, indulgent to a fault, and obviously I am pushing my luck. I will not be getting any of whatever is making that delicious smell.

Stars, with my botched blow job I will be lucky to be fed at all today. I’ll be lucky if it doesn’t merit more correction than no food for the day.

More is added to different pans and I hear the sizzling change tone, while he starts going with the knife again.

I have been a kitchen slave before, back when I was small and the one I was bred from pawned me off on another who washed dishes for the cook. Maybe she died, or was traded. I never really saw either of my supposed parents growing up. At least no one who wanted to claim responsibility for a child that needed to be fed and kept out of trouble.

No, if I was ever in trouble that rested squarely on my shoulders, even when I was too young for my shoulders to bear it. For all the things that took place in my first house I have often wondered if my coloration and life had been desired or if it was just an accident.

Either way the cook let me peel vegetables and clean under the cabinets that were too small for him to get underneath.

The kitchen, like many things, was a mixed blessing. Work was key with my first master, he did not tolerate ineptitude and failings for anything more than the duration of a laugh. Working saw that I had value in the house, not much and easily replaceable, but value and a place to stay. For being a child, with no one to ask for help, no guardian to help me, I earned my rations and bed alone.

Assisting the chef meant that I got to be around food, but it was all for master and his guests and family. I had watched many hungry desperate people steal and be found out, it never ended pretty.

So many that I learned the rules better than anyone else in the house. I took what I was given and was grateful for it, no matter what.

Chef made sure I was useful in a way most kits aren’t. He made sure people knew that I did my part. That they didn’t have any reason to tie me in a bag and toss me out into the lake like the litter-mates that prove useless.

Not one member of our household would help a small child barley out of toddling, and assume the risk of claiming responsibility for them.

As much as I hated being alone I understood.

We couldn’t risk a beating for someone else’s crime, none of us could. It’s not like claiming saved us from the decisions master could make to sell one and separate families.

The cabinet door comes shut with a quick slap and it jolts me out of my head for a little bit. I stay still, perfect posture, not slouching even when my mind is so far away.

I chide myself quietly, I should be focused and attentive to my new master, but the smells are bringing back memory and there is not much I have to distract myself.

The kitchen at my first house was not like this one.

With all the stairs up to get things to master and his family I am certain that it was underground. It was big and crowded, all the equipment pressed up against one another, stacked where they could. There were none of the windows that let light stream in, and I barely recognize the hanging dried herbs.

Master is unhurried and by his humming seems to take a genuine pleasure in the act of cooking. It was never like that with Chef, and I wonder if his chef is similarly jovial. Or if my Master is only taking pleasure in the act because he knows the only one he has to please is himself.

Chef was always stressed, constantly screaming and running about, trying to get through every meal like it was another war on the home front. It was for him I suppose, we all had our place in the house and if we ceased to be useful, Master would not tolerate it.

I shift myself just slightly finding my way into the warmth coming in from the window. Thinking of my first Master always makes me cold inside.

My time in the kitchen was nice, the work was difficult but it was often warm in there and that kept me from illness many times as a child. I could convince guards that I was cleaning late and early and I could often sleep in that warm place.

If I could only have stayed there.

But eventually I grew, slower than I should have with my naturally smaller frame and pitiful diet, but that did not save me from changing duties. The first time Chef sent me up into the main house with his platters it was not his fault. His knees could not make the climb anymore and he needed more servers for master’s party.

I was small and shouldn’t have been noticed, if not for my clumsy nature and my eyes. Master’s guests had seen me among the other servers for the party and thought my small frame funny. They cooed and spoke softly calling me close so they could see over and over again what was on my serving platter. They thought my eyes were beautiful and my hair made me very cute looking.

None of their soft spoken playful banter saved me when I tripped over the long train of a dress and spilled wine on myself and the floor.

I was so small.

I don’t know why I am thinking of this master here and now. Why my mind is choosing to relive his parties. Why I can’t stop myself thinking of the way he and his friends loved playing with me in their after dinner meetings when the ladies of the house were all sent to bed. I was small and I didn’t know anything back then.

I feel hands on me and I still myself.

Master is back, he’s reconsidered, changed his mind, it doesn’t matter all I need to do is stay still and please him.

I know I shouldn’t but I close my eyes, I don’t want to see this. The hands are rough and ice claws at my lungs. I can’t breathe, but that too I can accept.

Master decides if I breathe or not. It’s a gift from him, my continued existence.

My breath hitches as his hands slide down my chest and I pray to anything that will listen that he didn’t hear it. I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes, but he’s behind me.

He won’t see it.

I’m safe for now.

It’s when another set of hands comes down on my wrists that my eyes fly open again.

There was no-one else in the house. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a servant let alone a guest. I scream at myself for this oversight, for not noticing a whole other person when I see that there is no-one touching me.

My hands shake as I hold them up in front of my face. There is no one else in the house, no one is touching me.

No one was touching me.

No one was holding my wrists.

I pull into myself as much as I dare and let myself rock in place. Trying to soothe myself out of whatever has just happened.

I look over my shoulder as discretely as possible to my Master.

He’s messing with something on the stove. He never moved.

I fight with my body to stop trembling.

The sizzling stops and I know the last of the cooking is done.

It has been so long I can’t believe that I still remember Chef, remember my first master’s house. I hadn’t thought about them in years, since I was first sold off.

Yet here I am with another master, in a kitchen trying desperately to please.

The feeling is familiar. All the motions done in rote these past few owners, some things never change. But I can’t help the uneasy feeling in my gut.

I may be more broken than I thought.

Chapter Text

Kara

Concern floods back into my system the second the fire is turned down and I scoop breakfast into a series of serving bowls.

Blue’s actions surprised me, caught me off guard rather, but it is the silent stillness that concerns me at the moment. I hadn’t meant to push him. I should have read the signs of his movements, he wasn’t being subtle, I just didn’t want to see it.

I know it will not be the same as it was with Alex. It wouldn't happen again, not like that. I wouldn't let it get there, not when I can stop it.

There’s a heat on my face that has nothing to do with the fire I’ve been cooking from. It has been a while, but I am not entirely naive. I didn’t want to think about blue’s training. About the fact that he has probably memorized sexual preferences for too many people to count.

About how he is apparently trying to figure out what my preferences are.

He’s still very fragile, even if I am only speaking physically.

I don’t know how he can even stand to think of anything sexual, it’s probably more of a habit than anything else.

My movements are quiet but in the room it feels like every movement I make is a cacophonous noise.

I wonder what he is thinking about now. He is so still and quiet that he nearly fades out of existence as the tasks take my attention. But as I slow down, he is still there, waiting. Back strait and in perfect position, siting on his heels, tail curled up, ready for orders.

At least the weight is off his knees. I need to have him checked out by someone who knows what they are doing. The list of things for Blue grows longer as the first day of classes grows ever closer.

At once I am angry with myself. What did I think was going to happen, that I would buy a familiar and the adjustment would happen overnight. Even if he wasn't damaged, Blue still has a lot of things he needs. Clothes, toiletries, towels, things of his own. I think it would do him good to have something to call his own.

I want him involved in the process of choosing, so it can't happen today. Blue is unsteady on his feet, though I can't blame him, he's not ready to go running around the market. Maybe tomorrow, after he's had some time to get used to it. Making him part of the process, in choosing, I hope will make it easier for him to accept.

Bowls are stacked and I grab a set of plates and some utensils for the table. Blue twitches at that, quiet but active in a way that most wouldn’t notice. I don’t know what’s rattling around in his head, but it must be noisy up there.

I know it is for me.

Now I have to address the elephant in the room, or rather the cat kneeling by my chair.

“Alright Blue,” his eyes come up, showing that he’s listening but stopping mid chest at the best. He never makes eye contact, avoids it like the plague. I’m not quite ready to touch him again, not when a vaguely pleasant scratch between the ears leads to sexual service in his mind. But at least I have his attention.

“breakfast time!” I try to make it sound more quiet, but still excited. Let him know it was an event he was meant to take part in, but I don’t want to make him spook.

He shifts and squirms a little in his seated position, not enough to be obtrusive, but I am watching.

His hands twist in his lap and I can feel the radiating nervousness. That won’t do, his skittishness I am realizing is mostly from not being sure what to do.

Explicit instruction should help.

I put the plate into his hand and watch him jump up fast, fingers white knuckled around the curved ceramic as he holds it. He eyes flit around, watching as I remain calm despite him movements and did nothing more than sit downing my chair.

At least he’s off the floor

“M-master?”He croaks, just holding the plate in his grip. I wonder if he understands exactly what I mean for him to do.

I motion to the bowls of fruit, eggs, cheese and bread. It is more that I would normally make for the morning, but I was nervous and I have an excuse now. This is more than enough food for two people, but I don’t know what he likes in the mornings. If he has preferences or -stars- if he has allergies.

I need to ask him about those necessities, though maybe I need to check his file, his medical record.

“Go on, make a plate.” I smile and say the words slowly, trying to make sure that it doesn’t come off a reprimand.

Blue flinches hard and before I have a chance to do anything Blue moves in a deep bow.

“Yes Master, I can do this. Thank you, Master.” He moves himself, a little jerky at first as he takes a second to look over the table.

Quickly but gracefully he moves around to the spoons and takes portions of each bowl, arranging the selections to cross and interact artfully. He hesitates only slightly, considering the portions in front of him before deciding on portions. The eggs take their place at the edge of the plate, bits of cheese falling where the portion of egg stops. Fruit arranged in colorful rings at the other side of the plate. It is more effort than is necessary for the task but he seems pleased with himself as he finished tastefully arranging bread slices on the edge of the plate.

All finished he has a hearty amount of food on the plate, I am pleased.

I thought this would be an issue, that I would have to force things onto his plate, but it seems that it will not be a problem.

Seeing that he is doing fine, my mind moves on to other things. Mostly the looming of school that is only a week away at this point. How I am going to get ready in time, how I am going to get Blue ready in time.

Pushing away a headache I realize why it might not have been the best idea to wait this long on getting a familiar. It might have been easier if Blue and I had a month, two even, before we would’ve to be at school. Learning how to act around each other is going to be difficult, especially when I consider that “discipline via the public” is very much a thing that the training book covers.

Not only do I have to help Blue feel safe in my presence, we can’t publicly be breaking too many protocols or some “good samaritan” might step in to punish Blue for me.

It doesn’t help that every time I try and interact with Blue he is trying to puzzle out which of his previous owners I am most like. I can nearly hear the creak of gears turning when he sits and tries to observe in silence.

There aren’t many things left to do for this coming year, but I do need to go pick up some of the books I’ve lent Shauna.

At once I am glad and regretful that I can’t bring Blue. Glad, because now I can ask question of Shauna without knowing that Blue all be there worried, but also regretful, Blue deserves a trip outside to stretch his legs, breath in clean air. I will have to get him clothes soon anyway. That will be a whole other trip that his feet will be fully recovered for. I promise myself that we will go then.

For now, I have to resign myself to going alone to pick up my books, though I do suppose that it will give Blue some time to get used to the house when I am not around. This way he will be able to properly explore. I will have to keep a few doors locked, but it should be a good experience.

I need to be out of the house, so that Blue can be in it. At least for the day as he settles in. There’s a nice little shop with books and tea that people often stop and work at on the way back from Shauna’s house. I can bring Blue’s file, get some work done and go through the reading list and ensure that Shauna didn’t fuck up my pages like she did last time I lent her a copy.

At least I have a plan for the day.

Blue makes his way back around the table and again kneels at my side lifting his plate to me, presenting.

“That looks very good Blue”. We can work on getting him up in a chair later in the day, but at the moment he needs the encouragement that he has done well.

I see the praise go strait through him, his lips turn upwards in a mostly irrepressibly smile and he sits up straiter. I wonder how anyone could resist giving him praise, just to see him perk up at the suggestion he’s done well turns me into goo.

How could anyone in good conscience hurt him. He looks better even now when he is drowned unclothes that is not his own, with bruises up and down his body, the light fade of pink from this morning gone, but I have no doubt that it will be back after the meal.

The plate however does not return to his lap. He stay stock still holding the plate up to me. His pleasant grin has not faded and I am unsure what is wrong.

“Blue?”

The smile fades as an awkward moment passes between us, neither doing or saying anything.

“yes Mas-Master?” He is quiet again, hesitant. I wonder what could possibly be wrong.

“What are you doing”. I can’t help the agitated tone that bleeds into my voice.

“I… I am—“ his eyes flit quickly, assessing. “I am waiting…waiting for— for you to take your meal, Master.

Chapter Text

Blue

The tests come one after the other but they are easier to spot now, my mind is awake and I am ready. I cannot be caught up in memories, I have to serve Master.

He is testing my ability to serve him, to anticipate his needs and desires. I noticed that there was more than enough of every dish to make a couple servings, he wants to see how much of what I put on his plate.

Judge his tastes even from the little I know about him.

I take a more than generous scooping of the hot and fluffy eggs, scrambled to a perfection that would have put Chef into an ecstasy.

Next comes the potatoes, chopped finely into cubed bits and seasoned generously for the morning meal.

Master is tall, he has a fair deal of muscle which is unusual for a wizard but not unheard of, he probably uses the energy quite easily and enjoys his indulgences. I place a heart amount of the little cubed masses at the other side of the plate. Even if he thinks it is too much I think he’d appreciate the excuse to enjoy the excess starch.
There is fruit next chopped and fresh, a medley of melon and small dark berries.

I startle for a moment at that.

How could I forget the name of those berries? I stare begging the memory to come back to me, all my time in the kitchen as a child learning exactly what needed to be brought to and fro.

I guess I had to put the memory to learning other things…

I place the colorful melon and berries in tasteful arrangement to give a nicely color assorted plate as well as a tasty plate. No sense in being sloppy.

Bread slices place well to keep the sweet from touching the savory and a few strips of fried meat go at the other end to break up the monochrome of the egg and potato.

I’m satisfied with my analysis of his desires, and I have made the plate look as presentable as possible so I go back and kneel for him, presenting my work.

My heart soars when he praises me. I know I have done something right. He liked my work and I preen, but he does not take the plate.

He asks what I am doing and that I have no answer for. I can only stutter stupidly as I describe the actions in front of him, bracing for a smack at the insinuation that Master doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Perhaps this is another type of test.

He is making sure I have a sense for propriety, some exceptionally stupid pets would think that because they put work into something they are deserving of some type of compensation.

I have been taught better than this.

I am frankly insulted that he would take me for one so truly uneducated. Though I do suppose I came across as rather untrained in our first few encounters, this type of idiocy is not on the same level.

Master’s table, Master’s food, and Master’s cooking, though that last one is fairly rare I do know exactly who all of this belongs to, including myself.

I hold up the plate, allow my head to tilt and eyes blink innocently up batting my lashes as I do so. I should be making a pretty cute picture. Any moment now Master will give up this silly game and see that I am worthy. He will take his meal and I can focus on being quiet by his feet.

If I stretch just across his feet I know that I can make it to where the sunlight streams into the room.

My arms ache from the suspended position and I realize with a start what other kind of test this could be.

He has let me hold his plate for so long that he must have thought I did not intend to give it to him.

Immediately my face burns at the realization.

I came to him and presented my work like a toddler needing praise. I should have set it down in front of him.

Though that isn’t quite proper either, technically I should not be allowed to handle Master’s food. Though it appears the house is running with no other staff today.

I curse myself for my stupidity. It is probably the rest day, I’ve spent too much time in the dark of the holding pens. There, time becomes wonky. The hours of day and night get confused and nothing really makes sense after a while. But if it is already the rest day then it makes sense that all of his servants would be out.

All duties fall to me.

“Blue…” I hear Master’s rumbly voice, he sounds hesitant, I wonder why. “I had intended for you to make a plate for yourself at breakfast.”

As he says it his lips quirk up in a half smile, his tone is that of a mother chiding her babe for smashing together two pieces of a puzzle that simply cannot fit together.

This is a joke.

It has to be.

I cannot take food from Master’s table. Especially when Master has not taken food from the table yet.

Feel a dark and shameful urge curl up and whimper, protect my vital organs from…

I have to do this right, even if it is a little late.

I jump up and place the plate down in front of Master’s chair, take the napkin from his setting and crouch under the table to place it on his lap. It doesn’t hurt that from under the table he can’t get a good hit with his fist and his leg doesn’t have much room to swing either.

“Blue-”

“Please Master,” I can hear the blood roaring in my head as I have just interrupted Master, but I have to try to diffuse this situation.

“Please, I - I know… I know I am s-slow, b-but I only wish to s-serve you well Master. Please.” My voice is pathetic, my actions more so.

I do not deserve the pity I am pleading for.

I know that.

I can only hope that this kind and generous master does not.

His chair scoots out a ways and I brace myself, but his hands come under my arms and pull me up, not raining down on me like they should. I don’t like that he can feel my trembling against him.

He pulls me into his lap, my face presses into his chest. I lie to myself and try to rationalize the action to myself.

This position makes me seem endearing, it makes sure that I do not make eye contact with him. But at the press of my body agains his, his solid warmth, and his calming scent I know I am fooling no-one. I am only comforting myself, hoping this could be misconstrued as anything else is purely wishful thinking.

Master allows his chin to rest on my head and just sits with me for a few minutes rubbing small circles into the un-bandaged patches of my back as I try my best to summon the words for an apology.

After many aborted starts I resign myself to silence and wait for Master to grow bored of me in his lap, toss me to the side, push me across the room as he did before. But nothing of the sort happens and when the moment is broken it is broken by words, not action.

“Blue…” I nod against his chest and make a soft humming sound that sees to be all my body is capable of at the moment.

“Blue, you are doing very well. The plate you made looks absolutely lovely, thank you. But I need to make sure you are taken care of too, ok? So I need you to make a plate for yourself, ok?”

He speaks so softly, with such calm that it seems he truly means what he is saying. I had hoped this master was not interested in such games. I don’t raise my head from his chest, I have every intention to leach every moment of this that will be allowed.

“Master… I—” I strain to think of a good response, one that he will accept.

“Y-you have not eaten Master. It- it would be… very improper to eat before you.”

His hand strokes the back of my neck, carding through the lowest bits of my hair. I have to suppress a shiver at his touch. I feels good, but know how easily he could turn his hands to violence. I think it is a bad angle for strangulation at least.

There are a few beats of silence then, I don’t know how my words have been taken. If they are what he wanted to hear or just further proof of my insolence. Eventually though, he speaks.

“Blue, I don’t… have very strict rules on that. Really, I would much prefer if you eat with me. I don’t really enjoy eating alone..”

I can’t help but look up at him. Such a blatant breach of the rules is inconceivable in my mind. But Master seems so sincere, and if it would truly make him happy-

“Here, since you were so kind as to make my plate, I will make yours.”

He stands then, supporting me with his hands and setting me down in his chair as he goes about the table spooning more than generous servings of food onto my plate.

He sets the plate down in front of the chair beside his and motions for me to take my place.

Following the inherent order in a daze I move to the chair. I keep my feet underneath me in a modified relaxed kneel, because I cannot bring myself to sit. Being on furniture is only allowed when we are being displayed, and I just can’t relax knowing how many rules I am breaking at once.

Master doesn’t seem to mind. When I take my seat he smiles and starts on his meal.

I am left to pick up the fork next to my plate and begin eating beside my Master.

Chapter Text

I immediately regret sitting and eating with my Master.

More specifically, I regret the way my stomach holds no more than a few spoonfuls of each bit Master has set on my plate. I keep expecting Master to look up and realize what he is allowing to happen. Slap the utensil out of my hands and beat me, maybe not allow me to eat for a week for my transgressions. But he stays still, eating beside me, making much more progress into the meal than I can. It frustrates me that I can’t eat more, but I also don’t want to be sick on Master’s floor again.

I’m just glad that this time I can still process solid foods. I remember the torment of only being able to process liquids for a week after a particularly bad punishment.

Master seems distracted as he fiddles with a crystal on the table and sets it down.

I wonder what’s on his mind, I wonder if there is anything that I can help with. I want to be useful, but he doesn’t seem to want to use me.

The crystal glows again, this time without Master touching it and a quirky smile falls into place.

I like the way it fits him.

“I’ve got to go Blue. I am going to pick up some things from Shauna and then I will be back, ok?” He pauses for me and it takes a second to remember that this master enjoys response.

I don’t know what to say.

I don’t want to be left alone... but Master’s smile is a good thing.

I nod, pressing a small smile to my face and hoping he accepts it.

“Blue” there is an edge of warning in his voice now. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset him.

“When I ask if you are ok I really do want to know. If you don’t feel comfortable, I can take you with me, or if you need more sleep you can go back to bed. I just thought you might enjoy some time in the house. I’ve locked the doors you aren’t allowed to go in, so you can go exploring if you want.”

I didn’t think he’d let me just wander around the house, what he’s said is just as good as permission. I don’t really want to be taken somewhere. In my condition, without a collar I just know someone will mistake me for a alleycat. Likewise, I don’t want to go to bed. I don’t know how long it will take Master to come back. What if he leaves me tied up and doesn’t come back till late. The best of these is to just take Master’s suggestion and be allowed to wander.

“I, I think it would be… best if I stay here. Is that acceptable?” I can’t help the quick way I tie off the end of that statement. I worry now that there was a correct answer and he only meant to test me. But the warm smile comes back and I reel in relief.

Master likes my answer, though I am fairly certain this was a freebie.

Any answer was good, he just wanted vocal responses.

“Alright then, I have to be off fairly soon, but are there any questions you have for me. I don’t really have the presence of mind to do this last night, but now we have time. Don’t worry if you can’t think of anything right now, I will ask again, or you can just ask your question and-“ He cuts himself off and puts a hand over his face. “and, I am rambling. Do you have any questions.”

I have many, but those are presumptuous and can only truly be answered with more experience with this Master. I want to ask so many things, but for some reason my mouth is moving before my brain has processed a question.

“Are we alone here?” He quirks his head to the side processing the question.

“Umm, no? I mean we have houses close to us, but they aren’t right up against the building, I have some space allocated to be in both front and backyard.”

“I-I, um … I meant to say, d-do you have servants that come through. I was…wondering if today is the rest day and they had all been sent away.”

“oh,” his face colors “No, I don’t have any servants, nobody really comes in here except for me, and now I guess, you.”

It is odd that a student in the practice of magic would not have servants, I have never met a graduated mage without them. Many of them come from prestigious families already and just retain a potion of their staff, if not add to it during their time of study. It hits me rather hard that Master is the only one in this house. He has been doing all the cleaning and cooking and yet he never thought to go and hire a part time servant at least.

“oh,” I say intelligently “Master, may I ask a different question then?”

“you just did” he snorts, I worry for a half second before he promptly sets me strait. “But I will allow it to count for two.”

I want to ask why has bought me. It seems very strange that this man would just buy a pet on a whim, so why did he do it?  He must truly value his solitude if he has made a conscious effort to not retain a basic staff all these years.

I don’t want to be told that he got tasked with bringing the entertainment to a party. I want to be more than a one time use, but I think it might be nice to know. Especially when Master is in such a good mood.

“Why did you take a familiar?” I hope it is only me who can hear the wavering my voice.

It's not quite the question I want to ask. I want to ask why he had chosen me. I want to know why he picked the most wrecked pet out of the lowest section of The Cages.  The conditions were all bad, but there were certainly better choices than me...

“Oh, I guess I should have told you about that one. I am a mage as I am sure you have been able to guess by now. I’m starting school in about four, five days now and I need a familiar.”

He’s bought me out of necessity, a class requires familiar and he’s never had one before so he got sent to the place where all the new mages go. It doesn’t explain why he’s chosen me, the weakest of the familiars he could have chosen in that place, but I have bothered him enough with my impertinence.

At least, knowing I am a requirement sets some amount of value on my head. I can breathe easy knowing that I have a little bit of starting value.

I just have to be able to improve upon it.

Master takes up a small bag unlike the one he wore yesterday and shoves a few things inside. I stay focused on my plate, picking, and moving food around, giving the illusion of eating more than I have.

That is until I see my file go into Master’s bag.

My heart stutters and it takes a long second for me to realize that the clattering is the sound of my fork being dropped the ceramic.

I flinch down, immediately trying to take the fork again with shaking hands. Why would he need my file if he was just going out. That file has everything he needs to claim me, all my information, all of my previous masters, everything he needs to sell me. I try to quell my fear. Master wouldn’t sell me, he needs me for class. No-one would buy me anyway, they would not take in a familiar as thoroughly damaged as I.

There is nothing to worry about.

He said he was going over to his friend’s house. Perhaps he has some questions for her about what certain terms mean. Some of the specifics on the agreements. I calm my breath and focus on trying to skewer a piece of diced potato.

“Blue?”

I flinch as the voice happens right above me. I have to crane my neck up to see my Master’s face.

I feel his blunt fingernails scratching at the back of my ears, a soothing gesture, this time I am sure.

“I know you aren’t finished yet, but I have to go.”

Something unpleasant and heavy settles in my stomach. I’ve lost the chance to eat any more this morning. I should just tally up my winnings, one of the best meals I’ve ever had, served hot, and on a plate, but it feels hollow.

“So long as you put your dish in the sink when you are done keep working on the food, ok? You need as much as you can stand.”

I nod into his hand, the surreal feeling of being pet and allowed to finish this wonderful meal at my own pace overwhelming.

His hand is warm and I am giddy with the possibilities Master has set before me. I feel lighter than I have in years. I have possibilities set out before me.

I feel the rumble in my chest before I can even process it, and before I know it I find myself purring obnoxiously loud under my Master’s hand. Master chuckles low in his voice and my face flushes to a shade of very unattractive red.

It has been so long since I’ve had reason to purr I nearly forgot I could do it.

I’ve had masters who find it very cute, I’ve had others who find it incredibly annoying too. The chuckle suggested that he, at least in the moment finds it amusing at least. So I lean further into his touch and continue just a bit louder.

“I was wondering if you could do that.” Master speaks, but I think it is more to himself than it is directed at me.

He continues for a few more seconds and then pulls away promising to continue later if I feel up to it. He allows me to follow him to the door and, with his instruction, lock it behind him.

Just like that I am alone in this house. I take a few moments to walk around the hallways and survey each of the open ground floor rooms.

The kitchen is most prominent. I take it that this morning was no aberration. Master must enjoy cooking, it is the most well lived part of this floor. Second up in the living room that I can bet has not seen guests in several weeks at the very least. It is a simple but beautiful room, wine colored curtains, white carpet, cream colored furniture. There is a beautiful grey brick fireplace, a selection of books housed in a stand of their own, a wood dyed deep navy coffee table, and an intricate stitched rug. It is an excellent sitting room for guests, if only it saw some use. There’s a smattering of dust everywhere except an armchair in the corner with Master’s bag resting on it, a book out resting on the seat.

That’s obviously Master’s chair, the one he favors.

It is the only continuously used part of this room.

I find that I like the image in my mind of Master sitting there after a hard day, curling up by the fire and reading a book, quietly pulling his mind from the day. It isn’t hard to put myself in that picture.

I can see myself laying at his feet, tail flicking lazily as he reads, drunk on his presence and the warmth of the fire place.

Or perhaps, the day was simply too much so I’d rub his feet or lay across his lap as he stroked my hair and worked out the tension of the day. I could purr for him again. I smile at my self indulgent fantasy.

Before going back to the rest of the room.

He did a good job cleaning, for being the only one in the house, but he missed some spaces between objects, and often under them.  Something that would be unacceptable for the servants to miss. The mages I knew required so many servants and familiars that I am surprised this one has been living at all without help.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now.

He has me.

The food in the kitchen is tempting, but I will not be able to fit any more in my stomach until after what I have already eaten settles. So I am quite fine with a simple task to pass the time. The cleaning materials are in a cabinet in the kitchen, one of the blessedly universal things in houses, and set to work.

It is not hard, and I finish rather quickly.

The dust goes away and I return all the objects to their places. I even find a bottle of oil for the table and work it to a polished shine before I head back into the kitchen.

The food has grown cold, but it is still delicious. I revel in the availability of the food more than anything. The weight of this gift presses heavily on me until I feel the weight of every forkful is more than I can handle.

Master is giving me so much and what have I done for him.

Wasted his medical supplies and done some dusting and polishing.

The plate is almost three quarters empty by the time my stomach and mind protest in unison. I can do more. I will do more.

I need this Master to keep me.

I want to be valuable to him.

I go back into the living room and breath in the scent of the cleaner, surveying my work. My eyes fall across Master’s chair and the things he has left behind. Just a small peak wouldn’t hurt…

I sit in front of the chair and take the book first. The cover is not ornate and the swooping curl of the letters mean nothing me, but my stomach drops at the sight of it. The food I’ve gorged myself on turning to led in my belly as I recognize the book. I’ve seen it many times before, I recognize the color pattering and the image on the front. This is a training book. So Master was reading the training book…

He will probably get stricter as the days go on, as he learns what is expected. He will become harder to please, but that is my own fault for not being pleasing. At least I will know what to expect from him. I turn the book over in my hands, it seems so terribly mundane for something that will change my Master from someone who comforts his useless pet into someone who beats him for his mistakes. He must not have gotten very far if he let me sit with him for breakfast.

The change will most likely be gradual, in time with the chapters he completes.

My eyes fall on his bag. I know it is terribly improper, but I want to know so badly it is nearly a physical ache.

I will likely never get this chance again. A chance for this level of insight into Master’s character cannot be missed….

I resolve to put back everything exactly as I found it.

The bag has quite a few things stuffed in it. The first thing I recognize being a bag of treats. A crooked smile finds its way to my lips as it hold the bag up and sniff. They are the same kind that Master had offered me in the cages to calm me. Two books, a quill, charcoal, a few bags of components… The whole of my being freezes up as I look at the next item in the bag.

A small leather crop.

Obviously new, obviously meant for me.

I pull it out so I can see it in the light of the room. It is slim, and well-made, the kind of whip that leaves bruises for days but doesn’t cut the skin.

I almost feel glad that Master is starting small before working his way up. When inexperienced people handle the whip it often hurts worse. They don’t know where to hit, how much power, how many blows to deal. My hands are shaking but I am doing my damnedest not to drop the crop. I know that if I drop it, I will not be able to pick it back up.

Slowly I slide the crop back inside the bag and slid the last few things around.

It isn’t until then that I hear a soft ringing. The tickle of a bell.

When I find it, I pluck up the pretty blue bell to get a better look at it. The bell comes forward attached to a soft brown strap of leather. My heat seizes as I realize the function of the buckle on the back.

This is a collar.

This is a collar that Master must intend for me.

Reverently, I run my fingers across the soft, conditioned inside. This will not chafe like my other collars. I can see the expense etched in the careful stitching and softening effect.

This is a present for an exceptionally good familiar. At once I am struck by the polarity of the objects in Master’s bag.

One object for punishing, one an obvious reward for a good familiar. Even without him here I can feel the teasing question.

Which are you going to be? Which of these objects will you have me use?

I want this collar. It surprises me how much I want this collar. I want to be claimed. I want to be worthy. Dear stars, I want to be worth enough to this man that he sees fit to give me this collar. I don’t realize until I hear the rattling of the bell that I am clutching this collar to my chest, shaking with how badly I want to belong.

And I do want this. I want to belong with this Master, I want to stay with him. I want to be deserving of such finery. I put it back in Master’s bag along with everything that I have found.

I know what I want, but for now, I need to get back to work.

Chapter Text

Kara

The moment I get outside it is a breath of fresh air.

I hope I have made the right choice.

There is something inside me that itches to go back inside and just watch Blue for the day, but that will only make him more nervous.  

He’s too skittish.  He needs a chance to settle down and get used to the house.  He needs time without his “Master” there so that he can relax and acclimate.

I don’t live very close to town, a good thirty minute ride or so into the heart of the city.  Shauna lives nearly at the other end of the city near the edge of what is traditionally the Mages district.

She’s always been involved with the landed aristocracy, ever since she was a child and her parents hadn’t known about her gifts.  They had pushed her to make the ties that would help support her later in life, starting the who’s who tirade before she was out of diapers.  Even now, after she technically belongs to a higher social strata she still loves her friends dearly. To her parents’ dismay she does like to keep her old contacts, even after they have strictly lost their usefulness.

We only know each other because we are enrolling in the same year at the Academia.  The administration started a program to randomly assign you to a student as an orientation buddy a year in advance.  It’s supposed to make sure that you have at least one person that you know when you come into the university.

Technically, I am a nobody, a new face and a new name in the crowd.  It sets me back more than I would like, but it’s not impossible to recover from it.  The worst that holds me back is no apparent family to hold a banner for. Shauna had told me herself, to the outside eye, I look like quite the wild card.  No family to speak on my behalf, no true estate, and no ties with the people in my year.

I still think it’s better than my actual family being involved.

 I’d much rather come from nowhere.

Whatever it is that blesses people with magic- blood, the Stars, or some force beyond comprehension- decided that it ought to be rare.

A very limited number of the population are magic capable.  Fewer still have the ability and position necessary to seek formal training, and with it the opportunities and respect that comes from being a mage.

 I don’t take my position for granted.

I applied along with many other people with families behind them to ease the admission process and they still chose me to attend their school.

It is a point that fills me with pride.

I am glad that Shauna also thought my acceptance an accomplishment worth celebrating.  Many others would have seen me as a threat, would have been much less supportive than she has been this past year.  I wonder if I would have been able to take it from someone else.

I wonder what would have happened if they had matched me with someone so high in their rigidly stratified system that they would have been threatened by an outsiders presence.

Many of the mages enrolled in the Academia have long standing ties with the university.  Magic has run in their blood for generations, though there are the years when fate drops a stitch.  

Magic in parents doesn’t always mean magic in a child, and it works the other way too.

The two spheres of social influence intermingle, but are rarely the same.  Having magic in your line is supposed to be a blessing. Many families look at it that way, as a chance to propel yourselves to higher status with service to king and country.

Magic hasn’t existed in my family for… for as long as it has been recorded.

The walk into the quiet marketplace that link the districts isn’t too long.  It’s especially nice when the weather is like this, chill on the breeze but suns shining down on us.  If it were summer I know I would be sweating through my shirt.

I can catch a carriage here to get into the real city.

I’m just glad that the university is actually further outside the heart of the city than most would like, it puts it closer to me.  Must need all that open space around it just in case someone really screws up.

The ride isn’t all that bad, but the nervousness doesn’t fade.  I think it’s only getting stronger the further away I get from the house.

I’m worried about Blue.

 I didn’t really leave him with anything to do, I should have left him with a book or something. I’m worried he might hurt himself or starts panicking and I’m not there to help.

The thoughts churn in me until my notebook is out and I am making lists of things that Blue needs, things that I need to handle before something bad happens.

He needs to be looked over by a medical professional.  He needs clothes, Stars, he needs shoes. He needs some feeding up, but that’s a more long term goal.

My mind goes over the way he panicked today, wouldn’t take his own food, needed to be held and pet.  A faint smile ghosts over my lips as I remember his purring, so utterly genuine and sweet.

I’ll have to coax more out of him.  The blush that came over him was really too much.

The carriage drops me off in the bustling city.  There’s too many people to ever truly relax here.   I can feel their eyes sizing me up. People barreling over others just for the heck of it.  I don’t know how Shauna can stand it. The Corallé Estate is a large sprawling property in the north but Shauna confided that she always liked her little apartment more than her parents’ house.

Though to call it a “little apartment” is a bit of a misnomer.  She owns the building, and lives in the top three floors, running a more or less exclusive B&B for her friends that visit from out of town.  

She’s always loved playing host.

The building is a dark green brick masterpiece with gold facades curling dramatically up the sides.  There is an imposing wood stained door easily twice my size with a polished brass turner that I know to ignore.

Three strikes from the door knocker and Nalla opens the door for me.  She’s a kind woman, an old servant of the household who came with Shauna when she started living in the city.  She’s taken care of Shauna for years from what I’ve been told, and is ‘quite attached to the young mistress’.

She waves me upstairs and lets me know that Shauna’s been expecting me.

She’s waiting for me on the lowest of her three floors, the reception area.  Reclining on the chaise lounge in a fine emerald tunic with sheer material wrapping around her arms,  she looks every bit as regal and highborn as a noble of her class.

A living painting, perfect even when there is no-one around to see.

“Kara! You came!”  Her bright eyes fix on me

“Yeah Shauna, you have my books.  If you thought I wouldn’t come all the way across town for a book, you don’t know me very well.”

She huffs dramatically, but I know she’s playing. Either way the joke ends with a roll of her eyes before she turns and calls out further into her home.

“Andé! Come out and say hello.”

There’s a split second where I am very confused.  We don’t collectively know an Andé, and Shauna will usually give me warning before she tries to introduce her friends to me.  But as the man comes around the corner holding tray of tea and sweets much too small for his frame, it clicks that this must be her familiar’s name.

There’s a twinge in my gut as I remember the sheer number of familiars that have already piled up under Shauna’s care.  I don’t know how the realization hadn’t occurred before now. I don’t know if Shauna’s actions stem from ignorance or a general disregard for the life she has at her disposal.

“So… how is it going with him?” I try to sound casual as I take a seat next to the lounge chair.  

“Oh, Andé is quite smart, he knows many of his commands already.  We were just working on a few of them before you messaged you would be coming over.”

Andé finishes depositing the tray on the low table before us and goes to kneel at Shauna’s feet.  HIs eyes and face are carefully blank as he settles down, crossing his hands over his knees before he stops moving entirely, holding position.  

“He only has a few more to work on before he is ready for school.  I’ve got a good feeling about this one. He takes the lash well, it makes him take instruction even better,”  Shauna continues, I get the distinct idea that she’s trying to impress me in some way. Like She’s proud of only having to “correct” his behavior slightly with the beatings.  She turns to the familiar now and that distinct uncomfortable feeling settles down in my chest.

“Come on now Andé, show Kara what happens when you don’t listen.”

When he only looks up at Shauna and doesn’t move to complete her orders,  I can see the air change. Shauna’s eyes narrow and her lips purse in disapproval.

“Oh, now that won’t do.  Come on, you were so obedient earlier, show him what he will have to do if his familiar misbehaves the way you do.”

 The hesitation stays in his eyes, but his body moves to complete her orders.  He rises swiftly and strips off his shirt before going down to his knees again, showing his back to us.

He doesn’t have scars like Blue, he has more muscle mass, but it’s the fresh reddened stripes cut into his skin that make me pause.

“Shauna what the hell!”

I can tell that she’s caught off guard by my outburst, but I can’t bring myself to care.  It’s not the wounds themselves that catch me off guard. After spending the evening at The Cages and the night trying to bathe and patch up Blue, I think it will be some time before I start to expect people’s skin to be wound free.

 On Andé, however, it’s where the wounds fall.

The lines cross in dangerous areas and it occurs to me that nowhere in the book would it have said where it is safe to hit.  Shauna has never had to think about where her blows land, what they can do to the body underneath.

The injuries land dangerously close to the neck, overlap across the spine, dance dangerously close to the kidneys.

“Shauna, these are dangerous places to hit.  You have to control yourself and the weapon you use.”

“It, I mean it’s just a little training tool…” I can hear the backpedaling in her voice.

“It doesn’t matter where you got it, when you are doing this, you are wielding a weapon.  You have to consider the damage you are doing. You aren’t just hitting skin, there are muscles and organs that you have to account for.  You can’t just slap down your whip!”

“Well I didn’t know that! Honestly, how is anyone supposed to know exactly how to hit and where the first few times around, that is such a trial and error thing—”

“No. No, Shauna, it’s— it’s really not.  You shouldn’t hit someone. You really should never hit someone.  The very least you can do is make sure you are doing it safely if you have to.”

I can feel the anger leaving me, the heat of the argument deflating what little energy I have left for this situation.

“you’re right” she says after a long moment and we have to sit still in the silence we have created for much too long before she dares breach it again.

“How’s your little kitty?  You didn’t bring him over, don’t tell me he’s died already.” She frowns and puts on a pouty face like she’s trying to make like we are still joking.

“No, he’s alive.  Just let him stay behind for some more rest.”

The response comes very ground out and the shift in tone is not lost on Shauna.  It is not lost on the familiar either. He flinches away from the hard tone, but shifts a little forward so he is in a mobile position.  If I had to guess, I’d say he’s trying to make sure he will be able to protect his mistress, even after what she’s done.

 I try to hide my reaction to that in my teacup.

“Touchy, Touchy…”  Her voice comes out lilting but cautious

“I didn’t mean it that way… I just, well I was reading the care book and I— Well, I realize how you managed to kill all those other familiars.”

Shauna perks up at that.  There’s a glint in her eye that I don’t know how to feel about. Andé flicks an ear, but otherwise doesn’t react to my news.

“Ah, so you finally admit I’m right!  It is hard. There is no way someone could get through their first familiar without a disaster.”

“No Shauna, that’s not what I mean. The book is wrong.” I can feel the headache coming behind my eyes.

“What do you mean the book is wrong?  People have been keeping familiars for centuries, this is how it’s done.”

“All the instructions are drawn out way of torturing someone to death.  I don’t think there’s a way to keep someone alive going entirely by the book.  By the Stars, Shauna, do you really think that starving and beating someone every day wouldn’t kill them?  When you are trying to find the “balance” that is going to keep them alive, it’s just bending the rules enough to allow for survival.”

Shauna’s hand goes in Andé’s hair to scratch at the tousled brown mop that sits there.  It’s silent for a good long while. I wonder if what I’m saying is setting in or if Shauna is just taking her time coming up with the proper insult before kicking me out the door.

“Maybe you are right.  Either way, he really did get lucky.”

She continues at my raised eyebrow,

“Your kitty.  It’s just that if anyone will make sure he lives it will be you.

That’s more than I ever thought I would get with her.  I wonder if we continue to work together whether she’ll listen.  Hell, I wonder if my words will mean anything directly after I leave this house.  If the second I leave is the second her whip comes back down. I don’t know what more I can do without making the situation worse.  I know when to quit.

I leave Shauna’s house with my books feeling more shaky than ever.  I’ve never yelled at Shauna before, but I hope that she takes my advice to heart. If not for the sake of her familiar, then for the sake of her academic record at least.  

It’s been less than the few hours I promised Blue alone so I wander in the city for a bit and stop into a small shop for a Pepper, a clever little drink popularized after its arrival on this continent a little over three decades ago. Places serving the stuff had popped up like weeds after that. The merchant who originally worked out the trade agreement must be wealthy beyond belief.  

These cafes were nice places to sit and read regardless

Despite the animate gargoyle whipping up a batter for pastries in front of a group of mystified children and a dwarf chimera that seemed to be trying to solicit a petting from each person sitting down, it was a remarkably serene shop.  The perfect place to set down and gather my thoughts.

A shot of calming draught is added to my cup on request and the drink is served hot and fresh, foam done up in a little swirl made to look like a leaf.  I’ll have to make note of the name, it’s a good cafe.

I let myself get consumed in my books, the ones I’ve stolen back from Shauna, making sure she hasn’t dog-eared pages or spilled or marked something.  I try desperately not to think of the marks on Andé’s back or any of her other attempts. I am through three of the books before

I can feel eyes on me.  

In retrospect I should have recognized it a little earlier.  Distracted as I am, however, it takes a few minutes for me to register the person standing at a not very respectable distance from my table.

I wait another three pages before it begins to grate on my nerves. I look up to the person, ready  to tell them off when my voice dies on my lips.

It’s a familiar.  A white rabbit familiar with black splotched fur as though someone had let their pen drip onto a clean sheet of paper, though not as random.  The black segments are neatly sequestered to specific body parts. It looks like she’s wearing eyeliner. She’s dressed nicely, prim and proper.  I hope it means she’s got someone nice looking after her.

“…Hello.” I don’t know how to initiate conversation with her.  She startles at just that and I deeply regret putting the fear in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet, but no less sweet.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s fine.  Is there something I can help you with? Did you need to tell me something?” I try to sound inviting, non-hostile and safe to speak with, and she seems to respond well.

 She doesn’t turn tail and run away.

“I… Um, well…”

“What have you found here, Blanc?”

A woman comes up behind the familiar, only a half head taller but much more imposing.  Her long, nearly hip length black hair almost absorbs the light and her eyes are a piercing deep set jade with a glint that sets me off balance.

“Mistress, I… The books, they look like y-yours…”

“Oh clever, clever.  Those are the same books that I have.” She turns to me and I find myself under her direct scrutiny.  I feel like a butterfly about to be pinned.

“Ah, someone else going to the Academia.  My name’s Genevive Fontaine, but I am sure you are already familiar with my family’s name.  In any case, you’ll be learning more once the year starts. Stars, it’s so exciting to be at the very start.  I’ve been waiting for this since I was born.”

She doesn’t offer a hand at her introduction, but she doesn’t need to.  I have heard of the Fontaine family, everyone has. They are prominent landowners that hold high judicial offices.   Magic’s been in their blood for hundreds of years. They are one of the few noble families that choose to stay well integrated in the legal system of this country even with their magic.

“It’s wonderful to meet you Miss Fontaine, and Blanc, but I—”

“Oh Blanc’s not her name.  I haven’t named the little thing yet.  Have you ever heard of a Blanc de Hotot?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, you couldn’t have, it is a new breed, brought to me from Uraf.   One of my uncles thought it would be an excellent familiar for this year. I think she is, do you?”  She begins running a hand through Blanc’s hair and I have to smile politely and nod. I just want to leave. I've lost tract of time in this shop.  Blue’s had enough time alone at the house. I should get back.

“An absolute treasure to be sure. I hate to be leaving you when we’ve only just met, but I really do have to run.  I’m sure we will have plenty of time to get to know each other during classes.” I hope that my smile is enough to extract me from this painful situation without suspicion.

She smiles and waves me off.  I pray I have not disturbed some sacred social code in my haste. Genevive seems like the exact wrong person to piss off before the year starts.

By the time I find myself in a carriage headed back home, I am exhausted.

I just hope Blue has had a better time than I have.

Chapter Text

Blue

I catch myself scratching at my neck, scratching at the band of skin where my collar used to sit.  The thin plastic band that would rub red and bruise. I catch myself looking at Master’s bag once more. The desire to see that shiny bell, the soft leather… it’s overwhelming.

There’s a zing of pain and I realize that I may have scratched too deep.

My hands go to my cleaning rag, twisting it, trying to keep them occupied.

It’s stupid anyway.  I can’t just go and put it on, Master wouldn’t appreciate me going through his stuff.

 I have to earn it, I know that.

Master said he would be gone for a while.  The best way for him to come home is to a clean house.  The cleaning rag in my hand still reeks of the wood shine.  I’ve already started this task, I might as well see it through.

The next room is a dining room, with a wide open sliding door that attaches right into the hall.  During a party the door would be rolled back to the point where it wouldn’t be seen and the people could walk right in.  

The table is wooden and I use the same oil to work it to a shine before setting to work on the china cupboard.  Plates, bowls, and utensils that haven’t been used in a year or more all get washed and polished to a shine before going back in the cabinet.  Trinkets get rubbed down, ensuring that the gleam of newness gets evenly distributed.

A few of them startle me. The crystals and some of the figurines and beads weigh unnatural amounts.  It is a certainty in my mind that they are magical and I pass the cloth over them only once before returning them to their resting spot.

 I will have to ask Master how to properly care for those specific items.

Once everything in that room handled, I feel good for a moment before I realize it’s probably been a few days since the floor has been mopped and my hands are starting to reek of the polishing fluid.

I reluctantly pull off the shirt that Master has given me.

 It is soft and warm, but I do not want to damage it.  

I fold it and set it aside before rolling the pants-legs up to my mid-thigh.  That should suffice to keep them out of the way. The shirt I will reclaim when all the cleaning is done.  

My reward for good work.

The purplish cleaning fluid has a strong scent that doesn’t quite match the flowers on the label, but I assume Master must like it.

He bought it after all.

 The mopping goes uneventfully, but by the time I have gotten all the open rooms on the bottom floor I realize that I am panting with my effort.  My feet and calves burn with exertion they haven’t felt in days, locked up and unable to stand. I sit down hard on the stairs trying to blink out the spots in my vision.

I bite my lip, trying to keep the frustrated noise at the back of my throat down.  My hand goes to the inside of my wrist, scratching nervously to relieve the nervous tension.  It’s thanks to Master that I can stand at all. I haven’t done enough to make up for what I’ve taken.  My debt is too far in his favor, if I don’t do something about it he will get rid of me.

I clean the steps next, and that’s hard on my knees but at the very least it takes the pressure off my feet.  

Upstairs three doors are locked leaving only the door to Master’s bedroom and an extra door leading to the bathroom from last night.

Master’s room is not as much a functional space as the rest of his house.

 The kitchen had been a fairly indulgent space, well lived in, but even then there wasn’t much around.  The living and dining rooms had been spartan, really untouched from their original furnishings. His bedroom however, didn’t subscribe to the typical pattern.  The bookshelves are not the same orderly installation of the shelf above the fireplace.

Here books are strewn all across the room, some lie open on the floor and desk, the shelves are stuffed near comically with Master’s collection. Small knick-knacks have made homes for themselves on the shelves, and ink pots, incense, and papers lie scattered on the desk. The bed remains as I left it this morning, unmade.

Heat rises in my face as I take in the state of the room.  I can’t believe I left the room without at least making the bed.  It is easily the most lived in place in the entire house, everything Master seems to need is in here.  I was allowed to stay in here, an important space for him.

I am at once proud and distressed.

Proud that Master sees some value in me that I cannot.  That I was allowed to sleep next to him for the night and he still let me sit with him at breakfast.  That pride is near instantly undercut by the intensity of my stupidity.

I should have started in here.

 Now I hold so much of the cleaner’s scent it’s making me woozy and I know my fingers are stained with the tinted oils designed for wood.

I hurry over to the bathroom and begin running the water over my hands trying to rub out the stain as I go.  Standing still feels weird and I find myself shifting on the pads of my feet to keep the discomfort at bay.

The stain doesn’t go away fully, but eventually the water is running clean and I assume that is the best I am going to get.  When I run my fingers across clean skin, no stain spreads so I assume it is safe to touch Master’s items now.

The bed goes first, I tuck in the corners and fluff up the pillows before straightening the blanket. It looks much more presentable after that. The books on the floor go next, I make sure to mark the open pages just in case they are important before filing them into crooked bits of space in the bookshelf.  It isn’t until I start trying for the higher spaces on the shelf that I lose my balance.

The pain in my feet has grown to the point where it is becoming difficult to really stand, so when my knees give out it is all I can do to flail my arms, trying to control my descent.

Unfortunately I am descended from no avian species, because I fall hard into the bucket of cleaning fluid I had brought up for the bathroom on this floor and immediately get doused.

The scent is what gets me first, instantly overwhelming and caustic, but it is followed closely by the full body screaming of my wounds being soaked with the solution.  

I scramble away on instinct, barely registering the mess I have made on the carpeting and the fact that I have ruined the pants Master gave me.

My head spins, dizzy from the scent and I know that I am going to throw up. I crawl as quickly as I can to the chamber pot, reaching it seconds before I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I don’t hear the door open.

But I can hear my Master’s voice ring through the empty bottom floor.

“Blue, I’m home.”

My mind races furiously as I try to quell the sickness within me.

I need to go greet him at the door, I need to be presentable, I need to stop throwing up and show him how grateful I am for the—

Oh Stars, I didn’t put my dish away.  It was his only order and I didn’t even attempt to honor it.  

I wanted to get a chance to finish it off before he got home, I wanted to have time to savor the last bits of his meal.

I’m such an idiot.

 If I had just been a little less selfish then I could have obeyed, oh Stars and when he finds the mess I’ve made he’ll be so mad.

I can feel the hot tracks of tears burn down my face.  My hands clutch at the edges of the bowl, desperate to ground myself.  Forget ever earning the collar, I’ve earned the whip nine times over.

“Blue!”

He’s much clearer now, and I realize as a hand comes down on my shoulder it’s because he’s in the room with me.

“Blue, what— ugh, what are you covered in?  Blue, what happened?”

I don’t want to answer him.  I really don’t, but he deserves an answer.  I am a little stubbornly happy that another wave of nausea rolls over my and I am prevented from answering.

“Oh, stars.  Blue—“

“I’m sorry”   I croak out just out of time for politeness.  Any other words die in my wrecked throat. I don’t want to be bad, so why is it that I can never be good.  I wanted to impress him, I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to be held again, pet until I purred, I’m almost sure he likes it when I purr.

“Shh, it’s ok. Oh boy, let’s get this off. We can wash off the worst of this in a tick, ok?”

He keeps talking as he winds the bandages off my body.

I’m trembling against him, unable to make a single coherent sound as I feel the cleaning fluid seeping into his clothing.

He’s not getting angry, but I can’t believe that.  He’s waiting, waiting until I understand what’s happening to mete out my punishment.  When his hands get down to my hips there’s a choked-off moan that takes me a moment to realize I’ve made.

 I feebly wiggle, trying to get out of his hold or entice him, I don’t know.  Though I know I must be a very sorry sight right now, not very pretty at the least.

I try to blink the tears out of my eyes as I look up to see him properly.

When it comes into focus his face isn’t angry, but there’s a line in between his brows like he’s focusing particularly hard.  

“Master…” I try to squeak out though my throat is scraping like sandpaper.

“Blue, do your feet hurt?”

 The question seems odd until I look down at my feet.

Angry red lines spill out across the bottoms of my feet, some working their way as high as my ankle.  I can still feel their burn even though I’m not on them at the moment.

Now that he mentions it, that was a rule as well, wasn’t it.

 One of the only other rules he had given.

“if it starts to hurt, sit down and tell me”

I should have heeded his order.  He was not here to tell but I could have sat and waited for him to come home.  He may have been upset about my lack of productivity, but it would have been better than undoing all his hard work.

Suddenly his arms around me feel a lot more like a vise and I am having trouble breathing.

I couldn’t fulfill one of his orders today, not a single one.

He still has some more time before school starts, he could find a much better familiar in even that short amount of time.  I haven’t set the bar very high, almost anyone could do better.

“Shh, Blue.  I’m gonna put you in the tub so we can wash all the chemicals out of your wounds and off your skin, then we are going to see an actual doctor about this…”

He continues on but his voice fades out over the rush in my own ears.

The tub doesn’t fill this time.  I know I haven’t earned that, but the steady pressure from the shower head is grounding at least. It stings, but I know that is my fault.  I was bad, this is what I deserve. I find that my fingers are too feeble to actually clutch at the washcloth that Master has started scrubbing with so I just sit still as he moves the cloth over my body.  The soap doesn’t bubble, and I can’t quite pick up a scent.

 When the scrubbing goes into my wounds and it burns more than the slide of the cloth over my bruises.  It hurts a lot, and with my stomach feeling like lead some cynical piece of my mind wonders why he’s even bothering to clean me.

The water switches off and I’m toweled down before Master pulls me into a set of ill-fitting clothes and uses a crystal to call for a carriage.

 Even with the warmth of the shower I can feel the chill setting into my bones.  I feel like there’s cotton stuffed in my ears keeping me from perceiving the world around me quite right.  I don’t have the heart to look higher than his pacing feet as we wait.

There’s nothing I can say or do in the time that it will take for a carriage to get here that will change his mind.

 I try not to cry regardless.

I was bad, I need to accept my fate.

The carriage gets here and Master thinks I don’t know the rules.  He tries to trick me into sitting on the chairs with him, but I stay on the ground until I’m hoisted into the seat beside him.

His arms stay around me like he thinks a moment without his direct contact and I will disobey him.  I suppose I haven’t given him much evidence to the contrary.

I wrap the last vestiges of my heart around the contact and pray I can be better.

 I pray that Master will change his mind, but he gives the coach directions and we are off.

 I understand.

I was bad.

 We are going to the doctor.

 Master is done with me.

 He’s going to put me down.

Chapter Text

Kara

“What do you mean you won’t?”

I can feel the outrage under my skin as I try to keep a pleasant smile on my face. This is the third emergency clinic we’ve tried and all of them are telling me the same thing.

“Look, sir, we don’t treat familiars. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but this is not a facility that caters to beasts.”

I grit my teeth to the point that my jaw is aching and force that smile to stay up.

“It’s not an issue with my familiar, it’s an issue with a healing spell that I tried out. I’ve never seen a reaction that intense before, so I wanted to get it checked out—”

“Honestly sir, if you’ve already wasted healing spells on your familiar then it’s probably an issue with your training more than anything else.”

“What…”

The technician quirks a brow and their eyes glaze over with a look of utter disinterest. I have never seen a medic so flippant about an emergency.

“Your familiar has probably gotten too comfortable with you and is taking advantage of how loose you are in your corrections. If it’s still complaining then you should beat it until it learns its place. You can’t let it just complain and walk all over you.”

My mouth hangs open, trying to come up with a rebuttal for her atrocious statement, but after a few seconds of silence she rolls her eyes and calls the next person in line forward.

I move numbly out of the way and start heading back to the carriage. I didn’t think it would be this hard to find someone willing to even look at Blue. It’s too late for any place that would treat Blue normally. As it turns out, vets apparently keep very finite hours, apparently anyone with an emergency after hours is meant to just wait.

The carriage is empty when I get back and I nearly have a heart attack until I realize that Blue has crammed himself under the seat.

“Blue?”

I can’t help the sigh that leaves me when I get down to my knees, but I instantly regret it.

Blue flinches and curls up tighter in his corner. I wait for a few seconds, hoping it will get him more comfortable with me in his space, but he just starts whimpering. Short, pitiful, gasping little sounds that break my heart.

“Come on, Blue. Come on out, you’re ok… you’re ok.”

I work my hands under his arms and start trying to gently pull him out.

He doesn’t fight me, just goes with the pull of my arms, but the noises don’t stop. I think I’ll be hearing those noises in my nightmares.

“Where to next, sir?” The carriage driver pipes up after a long moment of me just holding Blue on the floor.

“I…”

I don’t know what to tell him.

I don’t know where to go next.

We’ve visited the medical centers open late at night. I guess waiting until the vet opens isn’t such a bad idea. I can give Blue more pain medication and we’ll know what to do once he gets checked out.

The clinician’s words still haunt me though.

I’m worried that vet’s response will be the same. With all that I’ve read there’s nothing that suggests how to treat familiars with injuries or illness rather than set them aside and “give them time to heal”, as though they will all magically fix themselves.

Magic doesn’t even work that way.

“You can… you can take us back home.”

I feel more than hear Blue’s gasp.

It’s the only warning I get before he presses into my body, snuggling up to me in a way that surprises me. He’d been so distant and scared since we got into the carriage, the shift is worrying but I decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Blue’s cold against me, so I focus on letting him sap the warmth from my body.

We settle down on the seats before our driver starts our journey home. My hand finds its way into Blue’s hair and I settle down for the drive.

Lights from the city pass as we travel back and my thoughts get swept away in their glow. It’s mainly the lantern lights now. Almost all the storefronts have closed and most residences have blown out the last candles of the night. It doesn’t take long to get back to our little district center, the dark streets glowing with the street lamps. I nod along dully as we pass the rows of the local shops. Sariah’s general store, Chiron’s cafe, Nafe’s grocery, the MIdnight —

The Midnight Clinic.

Dear Stars, I am stupid.

“Driver, I’m sorry, can you pull over at the clinic?”

It’s a long shot if the medical centers don’t take familiars, but I’ve been to this clinic many times. It’s open late at night, and I know a few of the people who work there. They are a local clinic, so they should be able to see Blue. He’s a member of the community, after all. I can guilt them into a cursory examination at the very least.

It’s the best plan I’m able to come up with at the moment.

Blue’s grown lax under my fingers as he leans against me, but at the mention of our stop he goes a little tense.

“Master?”

“Come on, just one little stop before we get home. Alright?”

The distance isn’t that far, so I scoop him up and resign myself to carrying him into the building.

The clinic is still lit, and the place is almost entirely empty. Rows of medical ointments, salves, potions, and bandages line the interior of the shop, but my main hope is that there is a physician in tonight. There’s a kid up front at the counter slumped over like he’s not used to working the graveyard shift.

That is, he’s slumped over until he sees Blue and me come in. After that, he’s fairly animate.

“Oh! Hello sir, is there anything I can help you with tonight?”

“Yes, is there a doctor in? There’s been a bit of an incident and I really need to speak with them.”

“Um, Denizi just got in a few minutes ago, you should be able to see him. Not like anyone else is waiting.”

The boy motions us into one of the back rooms that functions as a little examination room. He lets us wait in there while he goes to grab the doctor.

I set Blue down on the padded examination table in the center of the room. The paper underneath him crackles at any movement and Blue goes positively rigid trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Blue, it’s ok, the paper makes that noise, it’s not a bad thing. I need you to stay on the table. Can you do that for me?”

He nods.

His ears relax infinitesimally, but I can see his fears aren’t assuaged. It feels like I’m talking to a child afraid of their first medical examination.

It takes a second to register that I probably am dealing with exactly that scenario.

“Blue, have you ever been to the doctor before?”

Wide eyes look up at me and I can see that he’s just about ready to cry, body vibrating with his effort to stay still and not disturb the environment around him.

“Yes Master.”

He bites his lip. He’s obviously concerned about adding the next part of his statement, but I want to know.

“Go on Blue, you can ask.”

“Master…have I displeased you? Do you want something about me changed?”

“Blue, what are you talking abo—”

The door flies open and a stocky man in the white and green robes of the medical profession steps in. He has carefully trimmed facial hair and smells faintly of a spice I don’t quite recognize. Thin, gold wire spectacles sit at the brink of his nose, in perpetual danger of falling off of his face. This is Denizi, I presume. He’s not a physician I have ever seen before.

“Sir, how may I help you this fine evening?

Denizi’s charming smile slides off his face and his brow furrows once he sees Blue on the exam table.

“Oi, get down from there, you mangy little thing! Where are your manners? Off that table at once!”

My heart instantly sinks, but there is still hope. I hadn’t exactly told him that Blue would be his patient.

Blue shrinks immediately away from the angry tone, his ears go back and his shoulders hunch even closer to his ears than before. He’s making himself as small as possible, but isn’t leaving the table. Something adjacent to pride bubbles in my chest.

Blue’s staying on the table just like I’ve asked him.

“Actually sir, that’s what I need your help with.”

“I assure you, I am neither equipped nor trained to deal with disciplinary measures.”

I have to swallow back the angry retort that threatens to explode out of me. This is quite literally the last option.

“Actually sir, I need some medical attention for my familiar.”

He hesitates at that, stroking his chin in a way that suggests the he has better things to do even though we both know that the clinic is dead at this hour.

“Alright. I am no vet, but I suppose can help you with some basic tests.”

He continues into the room and closes the door behind him. I have to repress the urge to jump in the air and whoop for joy.

Finally, some medical help!

“There are a variety of things that all medical students have to learn regardless of what practice you go into. I know many of my colleagues would not be caught dead performing tests on familiars, even though they have the technical wherewithal to do the procedures. You’re quite lucky that I think it’s such a waste to never put the skills to practice” he rambles as he sets up, pulling on some gloves and pulling out a blank medical file.

“Alright now, what is this pretty kitty’s name?”

Blue’s hands are fisted in the paper and he almost snaps his neck turning to look at me.

“His name is Blue.”

“And today you’re coming in for…?”

That gives me pause. I should say that we came in for his wounds specifically, but that’s obvious enough, and this would be a great opportunity to get Blue’s check-up out of the way.

“We’re in for a checkup, though there are a few concerns that I’d like to bring up at the end.”

He nods and scribbles on the page.

“Alright, alright… now, Blue, take off those clothes and we can get started.”

Blue’s hands go to the hem of his shirt before the words process and I let out a startled, “What? What does he need to get undressed for?”

“Well, you do want a complete checkup for your little pet here, right?”

That quiets me. I don’t really know what the checkup will entail. I don’t know why I’m questioning a medical professional. My face heats and I just sit down in the chair near the door.

I tell Blue it’s ok to continue.

Blue strips neatly and efficiently, almost prim in the way he folds the clothes and sets it beside himself. He looks much more relaxed than he was a few moments ago. I suppose anticipation always makes appointments worse.

“Well he does have manners, good boy,” the doctor praises him, and Blue’s face lifts in a tilted smile angels at me. It’s almost funny to watch him flaunt he status as a good boy.

The doctor goes about taking Blue’s temperature, weight, height, and various other measurements palpating the glands under his arms and at his neck. He examines his eyes, ears, nose, throat, even goes so far as to check his teeth, and all goes well except for an unduly hard tug on Blue’s ear when he wasn’t staying still enough for the doctor’s instrument to get a clear measure. He asked questions, most of which I had to refer to Blue’s paperwork for, or Blue himself.

I’ve never felt so ashamed to not know so much about a person.

The exam goes on fairly normally until we finally reach the subject of Blue’s feet. Several different testers come out and the doctor eventually states that Blue was probably over stressing the newly healed surface. Some caria root cream and plenty of time off of his feet should set him good as new, though it would perhaps be best fixed with some prescribed pain medication, which is apparently terribly unorthodox.

At my insistence the doctor writes the note and sends me out to fill it with his assistant while he finished the last of Blue’s testing.

“You’re sure you don’t need me for anything else?”

“Oh, just leave the paperwork and we’ll be fine. The last part will probably be terribly boring for you.”

“You good, Blue?”

He simply nods, offering me a small if shaky smile. He’s not as nervous as he was coming into the clinic and I can’t help but be relieved.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

—————
Blue

Master leaves the room and I feel a little piece of me leave with him. I don't want him to leave. I enjoyed having him in the room with me, the way he protested even the slightest of rough treatment. I enjoyed having him in the room when I was being praised. Showing him how good I could be when I am given instructions to follow.

I feel awful about how difficult I was being in the carriage.

This master has given me nothing but safety and privileges. I should not have let myself jump to conclusions and assume the worst.

Doctors in my mind are for when master wants to put you down the proper way or augmentation. If a master wants to put down a pet without any fuss then he takes them to the doctor for a shot that will stop their heart or make them gasp for air that won’t enter their lungs. The only other reason for a true doctor is for augmentation that masters can’t achieve without the surgical precision of a professional. I’ve never heard of even the most favored pet being taken to an actual doctor for a checkup.

The door closes and the doctor’s hand slides through my hair.

“Yes, quite boring for him. He gets to see you however he likes whenever he wants, doesn’t he? And I’m sure you’re every bit the good boy you’re being for me now. Let’s get on with the rest of your exam,” the doctor breaths in my ear.

I was hoping that I wouldn't have to go through with this part of the exam. When Master told the doctor that it would just be a check-up I was relieved to say the least. Exams aren't too uncommon, especially when you're being graded for sale. Master is new to this and I haven't had an exam in three or four years. He wants to know if my body is functional. If I'm valuable on the grading system.

The doctor continues to pet me for a few more seconds before going back to his file at the desk.

I’m quite familiar with these exams, and I want to get back to Master. I want the doctor to tell Master what a good boy I am.

The doctor flips through my sale file for a moment and I just wait patiently.

“Carrier type, obviously… but I don’t see your last heat listed here…. When was that?”

“The masters didn’t want to breed from me so they put a stop to it.”

“Magically or physically?”

“With magic, a spell that needs to be done twice a year, I think”

“Well, aren’t you well informed.”

I bite my lip and don’t respond. I’m not technically supposed to know any of this information, but I eavesdropped on my third and fourth masters quite a bit.

Before I was taught better.

The doctor fiddles in his desk for a few moments before pulling out a long, slim

"Alright, we'll do your pharyngeal reflex test first. I don't have any of the traditional testers here. This isn't a vet, so we'll have to make do."

He makes markings at roughly one inch intervals on the glass component tube before turning back to me.

“Alright, open your mouth.” He takes a marked rod and I open up obediently.

He slides the rod in smoothly. At least he’s not jamming it in at an unpredictable rate. There was one market vet who drove down my price an absurd amount by administering the test that way.

I look up at the ceiling to avoid watching the rod and focus on suppressing my gag reflex. I know I’ve done good by the time I taste the plastic of the doctor’s gloves as he slowly pumps the measure in and out for a few seconds.

“Very good.”

He says it more to himself that to me, but I still preen at the compliment.

“Now, hands and knees.”

I get into position, but his hand slides down and around my neck, pressing me down until my shoulders are resting on the crinkly paper of the table and my ass is raised high in the air.

“Good”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, even though I am nearly sure he can’t see them. He could have just told me to present. I’m fairly well trained, I know the basic waiting, kneeling, and fucking positions.

His fingers are cold and slippery as they reach between my cheeks and push in slowly. Distantly I’m thankful for both the pace and the lube. I wonder if the pacing I’ve been awarded is because of my Master’s apparent favor towards me. It’s something else I’ll have to thank him for when this is done.

“Ah, you are quite snug little one. I’m sure your master appreciates it.”

It has been a few days since anyone’s had me. Master took me away from the Market before the night guards came on shift, and no-one’s so much as played with me down there since then. I’m as surprised as him at my tightness. I quietly suppress the twinge of pain that comes with the intrusion.

The doctor’s finger search for only a few minutes before settling on the little nub of nerve endings inside me.

I know it’s the point of this exam, but I still startle as he focuses on my prostate.

Few masters pay any attention to it. They’ll usually only bother with it on accident, or they spend all their time fixating on it, playing with me until I really am only an animal desperate to end the stimulation.

Almost immediately I’m hard, and I can feel myself growing slick. The doctor’s fingers play more within me and I focus on the examination I’m getting. Responsiveness is a very important indicator for being sold. If you can come untouched within reasonable amount of time it will increase your grade.

I focus on the stimulation and the task at hand.

Master took me when I was a dirty little thing clinging to the bars of my cage. I want to prove to him that I am good. That I am worthy of him. I don’t know many things, but what I have been trained to do, I can do well. I want to be able to serve him, make him happy, even if this is the only thing that I can do.

“You’re drawing me in, little one, pulling me forward, into you. I bet you are quite the pleaser when it comes to your master. This is why you’re so favored, is it not? This is why he’d come all the way out here in the middle of the night to make sure you’re ok.”

Master has done a lot for me, even in the short time that he’s known me. Even with the pitiful little that I’ve done for him. I think of all the beautiful privileges that Master has allowed me in the day and a half I’ve known him. All the wonders that he’s shown me, the warmth and the kindness. But it’s the memory of his face, the night he let me sleep next to him that tips me over the edge.

I come right there on the table under the doctor’s fingers.

“That’s a good boy, oh you must be a favorite.”

I feel dirty inside.

I’m breathing deeply, trying to force air into my lungs after this intense exam, but that doesn’t disguise the sound of ruffling clothes that comes behind me.

Ice lodges itself in my chest as the doctor speaks.

“Your master wouldn’t mind if I take a little taste, would he?”

Chapter Text

Blue

I can feel the doctor’s hands starting to roam. My stomach turns to lead inside me and I try desperately to cast my mind away from this place.

This is fine.

This is my purpose.

It’s what I was trained to do.

The doctor pulls my body back so that I’m flush with the edge of the table.

It will all be ok. Master will be back after this, and we will go home, and —what?

Master did not give this man permission to have me.

Will he be angry? Will he yell, and scream, and will those kind hands be finally pushed to hurt? I don’t want that. I don’t want to be left outside, like the trash that I know I am. I came to him sullied, but he didn’t know the extent of it, not truly. I don’t want him to see what he’s supposed to be doing with me. How he’s supposed to be treating me.

I want to live in the happy little bubble that Master has placed me inside. I don’t want to get in trouble for this. I don’t want this to happen.

Master did not give this man permission to have me.

I have to say something. No matter how many rules it breaks.

“S-sir, please. I—I don’t think my Master would like this.”

“Oh really.” His hand rubs across my chest, fingers too rough when they pull at my nipples. I can’t help the way I try to jerk away from his grasp. It’s all I can do to bite my lip and not dig my grave deeper by making sounds of protest too.

“And who exactly is your Master that he would object?”

He is safety. He’s one of the precious few people in this world who seems to care what happens to me. Master is my only protector. My eyes sting and I quickly shut them as tight as I can. This man will not get my tears. There are so many things that I want to scream, but the only thing that makes it out is,

“He’s a mage.”

The roaming fingers pause in place.

“What.”

My face is hot, burning with shame. I force my voice out again.

“He is a mage.”

“I thought he was joking when he called you his familiar. Your kind are only really suitable as pets.”

“H-he picked me.” And the fact still fills me with pride. “He picked me at the market, he chose me to be his familiar for this coming school year. I don’t think he’d like it if you had me without his permission.”

I hope he believes me.

I hope whatever bark I’m projecting is convincing enough so that I don’t have to try to take an actual bite.

The doctor hums in consideration.

There’s a rustling of fabric and I know I have failed. He doesn’t care, he’ll just ask Master’s permission later. Nothing will happen to him. I flinch as a pile of fabric slams down in front of me. My clothes! Some of it seems to have gotten unfolded in the doctor’s haste.

“Get dressed,” the doctor snaps.

I take the gift for what it is and start pulling on the layers. My hands are trembling, but I still force them to move into the sleeves and hold my pants as I hurriedly step into them.

A hand clutches at my shoulder as I’m finishing and the doctor speaks in a hushed tone.

“Now, I would hate to have to tell your Master how provocative you were in this examination. Truly, with such a disloyal familiar, he may just dump this pet project of his and get a fresh start with something new. I think it’s best that we just say that nothing happened here, ok?”

I simply nod, desperate for him to let go.

I can feel his touch even still, through the fabric. It makes me want to scrub my skin away. I don’t want Master to know. I gain nothing from it. I just want Master to take me into his arms again.

I want to feel safe.

The doctor pulls me off the table and sets me on the ground on shaky legs before gathering up his supplies and leading me out the door. I don’t care about the pain it’s causing, I’m not going to my knees in front of this man.

I don't want to give him the chance to reconsider.

Master is only a few steps away and something in my chest unclenches when I can see him again. He finished getting the medications and was about to return anyway.

My face flushes scarlet, I’m glad that he didn’t see.

The doctor fawns over Master for a bit before I’m given a clean bill of health and my records are updated.

I pay more attention to the bottles and packages on the shelves than is warranted for someone who can’t read what’s written there, but it serves as a good enough distraction until Master has finished getting his package and paying at the counter. The whole ride home passes in a blur. I barely register leaning against my Master for the ride until we get back home.

Distantly, I hear coins clinking, but I can’t for the life of me pay attention.
It’s only when I’m hoisted into my Masters arms as I’m brought inside that I come back into my body.

“Blue…” The voice is quiet, searching.

I realize Master must’ve been trying to talk to me. It’s all I can do to nuzzle into his chest and try to let him know that I’m listening without saying a word. There’s something caught in my throat and I know that if I try to speak I will cry.

“Ah, there you are… Blue, we need to talk.”

Ice jabs me in the chest and I want nothing more than to return to the blissfully unaware state I had previously been in. He doesn’t say anything, just carries me a little bit. We don’t go upstairs, we head into the kitchen.

The house does not look as it did when I walked through it during the daytime. The night seems to have cast a dreary glint on the place. The shadows have come out to play. This is very much a place that could house a monster.

I have to be careful.

Master sets me down on the same chair I used at breakfast, seemingly years ago. He doesn’t stay. He busies himself with something on the other side of the kitchen. Privately, I’m glad for the separation. Everything feels raw inside me and I don’t think I could have kept a straight face if he was intent on looming over me.

Master lights the candles on the table in silence, and sets down a jar and plates. The jar looks like a hive for honey bees, the happy yellow grates on my nerves. It’s out of place here. I don’t like the way the flickering light plays out on the painted bees. It turns them into something horrible, something wrong.

I jerk as a high pitched whistle goes off at the other end of the kitchen, but Master simply moves the kettle off the burner and pours the heated water into a little ceramic teapot.

Master slides one of the cups to me as well as a second jar filled with honey, dipper already inside.

There’s a long moment where all I can do is stare. I don’t want to break the silence that has fallen on us. I’m scared something irreversible will shatter.

I’m frozen just like I was with the doctor. I can’t make myself move.

An audible sigh comes from Master and it is no better that he is the one to break the spell.

He’s annoyed with me. The broken pet he got saddled with. I wonder if he’ll try to beat me until I’m less dense. A few have tried… though I guess it’s never truly worked. He probably wouldn’t have objected to the doctor using me. It was all just my wishful thinking.

His hands wander into my line of sight and I thank whatever will listen that I’m too frozen to flinch. He takes back the jar, opens it, and… pours a liberal amount into my cup.

He repeats the process with his own, though perhaps uses less in his own before pouring out hot tea into both our cups. The fragrance is overwhelming, summer flowers and mint. I can feel myself salivate.

“Blue, we really need to talk, ok?”

My mind goes into overdrive pulling up everything that I can that will get me out of this situation in one piece.

This master likes responses.

He likes verbal responses.

“Y—yes, Master.”

“Ok, pick up your tea. It’s ok if you don’t drink, but it’s warm. You should at least hold it.”

My hands close around the glass like he orders and the heat of the cup isn’t scalding like I thought it would be. The cup is thick enough that it doesn’t hurt me. Master opens the beehive jar and lays out a few small jam cookies on my plate, taking a few for himself.

“Alright, why were you so worried about going to the doctor today?”

The question takes me by surprise, but with some consideration it makes sense. I was very problematic today. I didn’t consider all the blessings that Master had laid at my feet and just assumed the worst. I don’t want to tell Master that I thought he would do these things, but it is worse to lie.

“I, ehm, I thought… I thought you were going to…put me down.”

“What?”

I flinch at Master’s volume, I didn’t think it would be that bad. Loud can mean a lot of things… worried... anxious… angry.

Master must be so mad, how could I think he would do that with all that he’s done for me? He wouldn't waste so much of his time and effort on someone he was going to kill anyway.

“I— I was very… bad today. I thought you were done trying to make this work.”

“Blue, are you out of your mind? I would never do that.” He says it with such assurance, but I know that when the actual year starts it will change. He will change, along with everything he learns. He’ll see his friends doing well with their familiars and he’ll be stuck with me. At least until there is some unfortunate accident, after which I am no longer in the picture.

I wonder if he’ll sell me back to the Market. I wonder if he could. I won’t be sold again, it’s a miracle I got sold this time. He wouldn’t risk a proper doctor again, there would be a record and he could get in trouble for purposefully killing his familiar in his first year. He doesn’t seem the kind that could beat someone to death, no. He’ll probably drown me. It’s not too messy and it doesn’t take that long. It’s a rather popular choice. It keeps the body intact if you want to sell it to one of the medical colleges.

They pay a little for cadavers.

I bring the cup up to my nose and take a long, deep inhale. I want to stay in this comforting scent for as long as possible.

“Blue, doctors heal people, they don’t kill them. Were you confused?”

“Doctors heal people, but there’s r-really no situation where they would see a pet. The vets, they aren’t allo— supposed to put us down. Only doctors have the pills and shots.”

I don’t know why I keep speaking. The words just tumble out of me and I realize I can’t stop. I need to say these words. I need to tell my Master why. I need him to understand. I wasn’t trying to be bad, I was just…

“They can make us different too, only doctors. You get sent in one way and your Master will pick you up changed to their specification. Master Ilam had a favorite who tried to run and she was taken to the doctor and stayed a whole three days. She came back no arms past the elbows, no legs past the knees, and she was blind so master tied her by hi---”

There’s a hand over my mouth and I can’t stop the low keening at the back of my throat.

“Shh, Blue. Blue, please… You’re ok, it’s ok, please stop…”

Master says meaningless things in a soothing tone and as I come back down from that manic state I feel the burn of tears down my face. When did I start crying?

Eventually our breathing levels out and there is only the weak press of Master’s hand against my lips. At some point his other hand found its way into my hair and I can’t deny that the slow rhythm of his short strokes is soothing.

“A-alright… Doctors are bad for you. I get that now. I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear when we set out. We needed to get you checked out, ok? I’ve never seen that kind of reaction to healing magic before.” He pauses and we let a few second pass in silence.

Master comes around and goes to one knee in front of my chair. The position is so viscerally wrong that I can’t stop myself from recoiling. He places a hand on my knee to keep me in place and forces my head up with his other hand.

“How about Doctor Denizi? Did you like him?”

My heart stutters and I can still feel the doctor’s hands on my body. I shake my head. I don’t want him to have another chance at me. I don’t want Master to say yes. If he does, then I can’t protest.

“Why not? I know your perception of doctors is quite skewed, but the Clinic’s pretty good.”

I don’t have an answer for that.

I don’t know what to say to try and dissuade him from the clinic. I don’t think there’s anything I can say, unless I bring up the doctor’s advances. Would Master care about that, or would he think it’s no big deal and insist on returning?

“Did something happen while I went to get the medicine? Was he mean to you when I wasn’t there? What were the last tests that he did on you?”

“He did a standard pharyngeal reflex and sensitivity test on me. He wasn’t mean… I think he likes me too much…”

“Wait, he checked your gag reflex? And what’s a sensitivity test?”

My face heats and I remember that this Master really hasn’t been around pets or familiars very long.

“Those tests affect my sale value.” I try to lower my head, but Master keeps his hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “The tests are of how well I could serve my Master, just on a measurable scale. How hard it is to trigger my gag reflex and if I can come when a master is only fucking me.”

His hand tightens around my knee and I feel his grasp on my chin stiffen, though neither are painful, yet.

“He did what?” I’ve never heard this Master sound so angry before and I instantly regret bringing this up.

“I… he administered s-standard tests—” I try to backpedal as much as possible. Quell the anger I see brewing in my Master’s eyes.

“He touched you without your consent in a very intimate way.” At this Master backs away from me, removing his hands as though I’ve burned him.

“N-no, it was only his fingers for the test, I—I swear. He would never do that without your permission. He, he wanted to— but, you hadn’t given him permission, so he stopped. But he… he did want to know if, if you…”

“What the hell does my permission have to do with anything?”

There’s a moment of silence between us before I answer him.

“Because you own me.”

Master opens and closes his mouth like a fish for several seconds.

“No, no, no. Blue, that’s not how this works. Your consent matters.”

“Master, this body belongs to you, you can use it, trade it, take from it whatever you see fit. I know my place, you don’t have to test me. I know the rules.”

I know the rules.

I’ve fallen into this trap too many times to not see it stretching before me. My body does not belong to me. Everything belongs to Master. I am his, and I have to trust that he will take care of his toys.

“Blue,” he takes a step forward and I throw myself onto my knees on the floor before he can take up the improper stance again. I won’t fail this test. This is important, one of the most important rules.

“Master, please, I am yours. I would never go against you. I know my place. I am yours to do with as you see fit.”

A hand strokes through my hair and the normally soothing gesture is like sandpaper across my exposed nerves.

“Blue… ok, we are going to have a very special rule, just for you.”

He waits and it’s all I can do to nod my head and show I’m listening.

“No sex. Not with the doctor, or anyone who might ask you. Ok? If someone propositions you, or puts you in an uncomfortable situation, or tries to touch you again, what do you say?”

I have to think for a minute, think hard about how I could refuse someone’s orders like that and keep the skin on my back.

“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed.” The concept feels so foreign that I’m just running on instinct to try and respond to Master’s orders.

“Good boy. That’s exactly right. I don’t care what they say or who they are, if they push or try to make you I want you to come find me, ok? I’ll deal with them.”

I nod furiously, trying to commit this all to memory.

I am not for public service. I am not obligated to help anyone who asks for use of my body. I am to say no, and return to Master. It feels like something heavy is off my chest. Master is the only one allowed to have me. If anyone else ever will then they will require special permission from Master. It makes sense. This Master wants me to himself.

I’m quite relieved.

“Good, good… now come on, off the floor. We’ve got some tea and cookies and it’s well past bedtime.”

The whole evening passes in a blur after that. The cookies have sweet jam in them and the tea tastes even better than it smelled. Master carries me up the stairs and I take advantage of the position to nuzzle further into Master’s chest.

His heartbeat is the most reassuring melody I’ve ever heard.

I’m asleep before we even reach the bedroom.

Chapter Text

Blue

The next few days pass in a haze.

I’m not allowed out of bed, but it’s not like it’s been in the past. I’m not in constant use or tied to the bed frame. Instead, I’m allowed to lounge, sprawled on the bed, wrapped in the fluffy comforter. Master stays with me most of the time, arranging books and components for school. He jokes about the tyrannical teachers and extensive syllabi, but I try to take in all the things he explains. I busy myself with memorizing which books go to which class. They all have vaguely different colorings and images, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fetch the right one.

He pets me sometimes and I try to purr and persuade him to rest with me, but that is the one thing that’s changed. Over the next nights, I am alone in bed.

The medicine soothes the pain and Master exercises great caution in healing my feet this time, obsessed with getting it exactly correct. The walking goes better every day, but I know that no matter how much Master praises me for my steps, he’s worried about the coming school year. By the time I am fully healed it’s the day before the semester begins.

I wander down the stairs by myself, far too proud of the minimal task, but set on finding Master. It doesn’t take long. He’s in the kitchen, but instead of cooking he’s wrapping bundles in sets of crinkly paper.

“Oh, hello! Did you get down ok? Are your feet hurting?”

His concern is almost comical.

“No, Master, I’m fine. But what are you doing?”

The kitchen smells of fresh herbs, and there are many more bundles hanging to dry, but they alone cannot account for the smell. I take the opportunity to sink to my knees in front of him and pick up the fallen petals and leaves. The floor looks like an herbal war zone.

“Oh, I was just going to make a run into town and fill these orders before we get really busy with school. A lot of people really enjoy my components, although some of them are just in it for the herbs.” He finishes tying a piece of string around the last of the bundles and wipes his brow.

“You really haven’t gotten a chance to see our area. Blue, I don’t want to push you, but do you think you’d be up to come with me?”

I’m unused to down time, unassigned and without work from my master. These past few days have been very peaceful, but also quite restless.

I do not enjoy sitting still. It makes me anxious and I know that every day I fall more and more in debt to this wonderful man. I don’t like the scratching, but I get so far into the whirling spiral of thoughts that it becomes a reprieve. I’ve had to hide the reddened areas from Master, and I’ve only been careless enough to break skin twice.

I need to do something for Master.

“I would love to see more of the area, Master.”

“Alright…” He looks me up and down, and I realize with a flush that I am still in his clothes.

“We’ll need to pick you up some clothes on this run, too. Don’t worry, I’m sure the general store will have something in your size, and then we can go into the Markets and get you some proper clothes, you know, that will accommodate your extra appendages.”

I flick my tail at the dig, but nod with him at the sentiment. I have to wear Master’s clothes very low on my hips because of my tail.

The walk into town isn’t too terrible. We stop at a lot of houses and the consistent breaks give me a chance to rest. When we stop, the people in the houses exchange coin for Master’s packages. They seem to know him well. Many of them fawn over me, chiding Master for not telling them he’d gotten a pet. Only one is rather aggressive, insisting that I should be collared and leashed. My thoughts go back to the nice leather one with the shiny blue bell.

I shouldn’t be sad, I really haven’t done anything the past few day to earn it.

Eventually, we make it into the district market. I follow Master closely, quietly, just trying not to be noticed. I don’t want anyone calling Master out for not following the leash law. Sometimes it is overlooked if pets are very well behaved off leash.

The bundles run out and we have a chance to breathe after all this running around. The market is slow today, but I enjoy the easy stroll down the streets. People are always interesting to watch.

There are a few children out playing, someone’s bustling about doing errands, there’s another person just sitting out under the suns on a bench, just taking it in. It takes me a minute to realize I’ve slowed, just watching the people in one of the green spaces. Master hasn’t noticed and continues to walk on. I jog the few feet of difference and get back into the safety of Master’s radius trying desperately to look like a good boy who’s following his owner.

I don’t have a collar, but no-one would mistake me for a stray when I’m so obviously following behind someone, right?

I close the distance just a little more.

Master holds the door open and I stand aside until I realize that there was no-one behind us. It’s just me. He was holding the door open for me. I can feel my cheeks turn a messy red as I duck my head and walk through the door held open for me.

The interior of the store is a bit cooler than outside, even with the nip of fall coming. The walls are painted grey and the floors match in color, but not quite in hue. There’s a scent of artificial flowers and cleaning chemicals, but nothing too strong. I doubt Master could even pick it up. Rows of aisles align themselves before us with small open areas promoting specific products and I am overwhelmed.

Master pulls up beside me with a small rolling cart.

“Alright, we need some basics for the house and then we’re going to pick up clothes for you, ok?”

I nod, still trying to take in the whole of the store. I must look very amusing, because I can just hear my Master’s chucking under his breath.

I put a hand on the cart and force myself to only look at the tiles. I won’t get in trouble if I move with Master’s cart. I’ll be good and it’ll be just like following a lead.

“Blue…” Master brushes his hand through my hair. “You can look around, ok? Tell me if there’s something you like or want to know about, ok?”

I nod to him, offering a weak smile that he seems to accept. I try to keep my vision at chest level and continue to hold onto the cart like a stubborn child. I don’t know if I’m allowed to be untethered inside this building but I’m trying to play it safe. It’s not until I feel a small zing of pain that I realize I’ve started scratching at my arm again.

I quickly place both hands on the cart and follow Master’s lead.

We pick up milk, eggs, butter,… simple kitchen needs, then a bottle of detergent and fabric softener. It doesn’t seem like much when Master says he’s done, but then again, Master lives very simply. Not that there is anything too complicated at this general store.

We move on to the aisles at the corner of the store: basic towels, sheets, clothes.

There’s a warmth in my chest as Master starts holding up different sizes of shirts and pants trying to find what size suits me best. It’s embarrassing in the middle of this store, but no-one is around to see it so I don’t know why my heart is going so fast.

Once he decides on a size Master starts piling up different sets of clothes. He sends me into the next aisle for socks and underwear.

The aisle I step into has a lot of children’s clothes and as I walk through I watch the ages progress and the sizes get bigger. The packets of clothes are still too small though.

Eventually there are sections of toys, varying wildly in age range and function. Dolls and many sets of clothes for them, building blocks that will lock together by themselves, magnetic rune stones that will pull themselves together to form random words. This isn’t something that I’ve really ever gotten the chance to see, though I guess I have seen pieces of these things out of the package.

I never imagined that the boxes they came in would be so colorful.

There are more dolls, little plush horses and dogs, but what gives me pause is this light yellow circular pillow with a face and triangular ears pointed straight up. The stitching in its face is minimal, but it’s fairly plain that the two lines are meant to be closed eyes and the curved stitching just below it is meant to be a mouth.

It’s meant look like a sleeping cat.

The material stretched around the pillow looks soft and plush. It’s not too big, just a little bigger than my chest.

It would fit snugly in my arms.

I know I should move on, find what Master sent me for and return to him, but I’m fixated on this round little plush toy. I want to know what it feels like. The soft fluff is short, and I’ve never seen material like that. The little stitched face looks so serene, I want to trace the careful stitch work.

I reach my hand out and stop just a few inches shy of the display. I want to know what it feels like, but I really should ask permission. I don’t think Master would deny a simple request like this… Then again—

I’m broken out of my thoughts as a hand clamps down on my wrist and wrenches me away from the display. The hand is connected to a very angry looking man in his mid forties wearing a vest with a tag that presumably states his name.

“And just what do you think you’re doing? Where is your owner? Why are you not on a leash?”

“I—I, um, sorry, sir— my Mast—” I’m too surprised to get out a single coherent sentence before the man continues barreling on.

“You a stray? You wandering into my store trying to steal?”

I’m going to protest when a stinging blow lands on the side of my face. It’s a hard hit. Tears bloom at the corners of my vision and I taste blood inside my mouth. I think I bit my tongue.

“I won’t have any of that in my shop!” He starts pulling me and it takes a second before I realize I’m being dragged. “Come on now, out with you.”

I pull on his arm, trying to dislodge myself. I need to get back to Master.

“Please, sir—I”

“Mr. Hardale!”

I hear Master’s voice and I redouble my efforts to get out of the man’s grasp. He’s distracted by my Master as well, apparently, and I pull free from his grasp. I barely feel the impact my shoulders take when they hit the tile floor, I’m so singularly focused on scrambling behind my Master’s legs.

“Blue? What’s going on?”

“Is that thing yours, Kara?”

My face presses into the back of Master’s legs and I feel the childish urge to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend that what I cannot see, can’t see me. I want to melt into this floor.

How stupid am I, that I can’t even go an aisle over and bring back what my Master requested?

“Yeah, sorry Mr. Hardale. This is Blue, I just got him a few days ago. Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I would say there is a problem. Your little pet is running around with no leash, no collar, and trying to get into my merchandise.”

“Oh… I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Hardale.”

There’s a pause as the man just scowls down at me. I duck back behind Master’s legs.

“Blue, apologize to the man.”

I hold back the whimper working its way through my throat. What else will Master have me do to make it up to Mr. Hardale?

It’s best to just comply now…I’m already on my knees.

I bow low enough that my nose touches the floor as I try to squeak out my apology.

“I— I’m sorry Mr. Hardale, I-I didn’t mean anything by it. It will n—never happen again.”

And I mean it, I never want to be so monumentally stupid ever again.

“Well, that’s all well and good, but-”

“What was Blue disturbing?”

The man points to the shelf with the plush toys. I feel my face heat and my heart wither.

It seems so stupid now…

“Blue, which one of these were you touching?”

I wasn’t even touching any of them, I was just curious. I want to tell Master, but I know that distinction doesn’t mean anything. The yellow furred pillow sits innocently on the shelf alongside all the others, but I can’t bring myself to lie. I point out the one in front that I had been just about to touch.

Master takes it off the shelf for me and puts it into the cart.

“Don’t worry Mr. Hardale, I’m still learning a lot about how this stuff works. Blue will be properly collared by tonight.”

“And there will be repercussions for his breach of conduct and respect?”

“Yes, sir. Blue will get exactly what he deserves.”

My stomach sinks at that. If only I hadn’t gotten curious, if only I had just asked Master’s permission. That rejection would have been harmless, most likely.

He doesn’t punish for questions.

We’re done after that. Master goes to get the last of the items himself and I just walk numbly beside him.

There’a a girl at the counter up front who marks down our purchases and although I’m doing my best to remain unnoticed, her attention fixes on me when Master turns to bag the items.

“Oh, look at you, such a sweet little thing!” I try to shrink back a little. I don’t want to get into any more trouble with master, but I also don’t want to make her angry.

“Come on, over here.” She’s waving her hand well within my sight like she’s trying to catch my attention. “Come on, do you want a treat?”

A few weeks ago, if someone had told me that the prospect of earning a treat would have anything less than my full attention, I don’t think I ever would have believed them.

I sneak a rushed glance at Master.

The girl is being quite noisy and shameless about getting my attention and giving me a treat. Will Master be mad? I don’t know what to do. Does he find this situation annoying?

He’s just loading our items into his bags. He doesn’t even seem to have noticed, or at least his body is not showing any signs of violent outburst. Though he does seem a little stiff.

I decide to quiet the girl before Master takes any more notice.

I step forward and raise my head so that she can see that I’m tracking her hand with my eyes, showing her she has my attention. It only takes her a second to see and she opens her hand to reveal my prize. It’s a wafer treat cut to look like a bone.

It’s not a treat for my kind, but it won’t make me sick… I don’t think.

“Now, sit!” I can tell by her voice that she’s smiling. I wish I shared her excitement.

I go down on the floor and sit on my heels crossing my hands in my lap. Though the pose has its own name, this is what most people mean when they tell me to sit.

“So good! Now, down…”

My body moves without me thinking about it. I lay my palms and forearms flat on the ground and set my stomach and chest as low to the ground as I can get them. There’s a stain on the floor in front of the counter and I focus on that. My face feels warm and for some absurd reason I feel like I’m going to cry. I hope she doesn’t have too much more for me.

“Last one, speak!”

I open my mouth, but there’s no sound that comes out. I feel something burning in my throat and if I make a sound now it’s going to be a sob.

I focus on the stain on the floor and try to swallow down the pressure, the heat that’s staining my face red. It feels like my throat’s sandpaper rubbing against itself. I know what she wants from me. I’ve done it before, I’ve done it to make owners and guests laugh, so why can’t I do it now?

I shut my eyes, I’m not in a position where she could see it anyways, and try to focus.

“M-m…m—meo—”

“Would you stop tormenting my familiar.” Master’s voice is cold in a way I haven’t heard it before.

In a way that I never want to hear it again.

I made the wrong choice in engaging this girl.

He’s angry at my performance. I’m wasting his time.

It’s all I can do to stay still, trembling, on the floor.

“Oh… I’m sorry, sir…”

I feel a hand twist in my shirt and that’s all the warning I get before Master pulls me back to my feet by the scruff of my shirt.

I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. The lady holds out my treat and I take it from her with my mouth. It tastes old and dry, flavored with something that I might have once mistaken for peanut butter if Master hadn’t shown me what the real thing tasted like.

My stomach turns at the taste and I remind myself of how thoroughly Master has been spoiling me.

How Master promised I’d be punished when we get home.

We walk in silence, but I’m thankful for that. At least I can’t dig my grave any deeper.

I wonder what he’s going to do with me when we get home.

I don’t think he’ll beat me. School starts tomorrow and I’ve just barely gotten to my feet again. He wouldn’t go back on all his hard work, not in front of his peers. The same goes for locking me in the basement, there’s not enough time for it to be a really suitable punishment. Though the sensory deprivation always did make time move slower, it’s too much of a comfort knowing that it will only be a matter of hours before I’m removed. It would also be time consuming for Master. Only really big houses would do punishments like setting you alone in a darkroom. But that’s because there’s someone to take your place. Most of the time no one really knows you’re gone, you’re just an interchangeable cog to them. Sometimes they forget…

I keep my eyes trained on Master’s back, three steps behind, like I should be.

He doesn’t seem volatile. It probably won’t even be that bad. He may smack me a round a little, nothing that won’t fade before tomorrow, but it’ll all be fine.

There’s a little yellow ear sticking out of Master’s bag and I realize that he actually bought the plush toy from the store. It’s not for me, and Master has so few thing that aren’t necessary… so why did he…

Suddenly, I’m struck with a terrible thought.

My first master had a family, wife, daughter, son. They were an upstanding family that represented all the values that their high society friends seemed to hold dear. I was younger than the son, maybe five at the time when I learned about CandleLights.

The time of year in winter when everyone gets to experience a little magic, mage, commoner, or noble. The son had told me about it when I was taking away the dirty linens, covering for one of the maids who’d come down with a fever.

She was one of Chef’s friends, and he’d promised me he could sneak me some extra food if I did it without getting caught.

The son wasn’t supposed to be in the room at the time, but when I asked him he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. As I went about his room, he talked out loud at me about the upcoming holiday and how excited he was for the presents. It was then that I confessed not knowing anything about the holiday, but instead of discouraging him it just made him want to tell me more. Every other day while the maid recovered he talked at me, filled my head with ideas of the holiday, until the time was finally upon us.

I saw the change in some of the older servants. They gathered together in groups of family and friends and once the chores were done they sat and laughed, gave each other small handmade things, and embraced. The work wasn’t any less, but there was magic in the air.

There was no reason, but everyone was happy, everyone had someone to be with.

Chef had come down with the fever his friend had, and though I tried to rouse him for a story I didn’t have much luck. I wanted to share the night with someone, but the other servants already had their groups, and with Chef unavailable there was really only one person I could think of.

I found the Master’s son in his bedroom, new toys and clothes strewn about the room. I had just wanted someone to talk to, just wanted to not be alone for the night, but he insisted I take one of his old toys. A stuffed bear, obviously well loved if a little worse for wear, but to me, it had been perfect. Its fur stood up scratchy in patches and it was missing a button eye, but it was my most precious treasure.

I didn’t let it go for the whole night.

That is, I didn’t let it go until one of the wandering guard for Master’s home found me wandering back to quarters after hours.

I watched the bear burn. There wasn’t anything I could do. I hadn’t even had it for two, three hours, but it felt like I had been burning in that fire. Apparently I cried too loud for that to be the only punishment for the night.

I was sent to bed with ten lashes for wandering about past curfew, truly a gift.

I realize I’ve been walking on instinct when I hear the jingle of Master’s keys as they fit into his door.

We’ve gotten home and I feel tears running down my face.

Quickly I wipe my eyes and cheeks with my shirt before Master can turn and see, but I don’t know why I bother. It’s the only punishment that’ll mean something in this short amount of time.

Destroy the little plushy that I sullied with my touch…

I didn’t even get to touch it, though. I’ll never know what its soft furry material felt like. I bite the inside of my cheek and resolve not to cry. I’m not the simpering toddler I was all those years ago, even though it really does feel like I am.

“Blue, come over here.” Master’s voice sounds tired, but quiet. Annoyed if anything. I thank the stars he doesn’t sound mad.

Maybe it won’t be that bad.

I wander into the living room with him but freeze up as he picks up the bag he’s left there these past few days.

I sink quietly to my knees and try to control my breathing. He is going to beat me. I shouldn’t be surprised, I did cause quite a bit of trouble at the store where he obviously knows people, but I thought my place as his familiar would keep me at least a tiny bit safer. Make him just a little more reluctant to hit me.

That bag has the riding crop he bought for me, and I know I’ve earned its use.

“Blue, what are you… You know, this position works just fine”

He sounds disinterested. It won’t take long for him to grow bored of this. I should be grateful, but I’m so tightly strung that the only thread of sanity I have left will be snapped when Master tells me to take my shirt off so that he can commence with my punishment.

I feel his fingers brush my neck and I startle so badly that I’m genuinely surprised I don’t bump my head on the ceiling. I didn’t think he’d strangle me. I didn’t think he’d have the heart to try and choke the life out of me.

I lock eyes with him, entirely expecting to see the eyes of a hardened predator ready to wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze.

I don’t see an incredible transformation though. It’s still my Master before me, matching my posture on his knees in front of me. His eyes looked shocked, not crazed. In his hands he holds not the riding crop, but the collar I’d discovered so many days ago, pretty blue bell tinkling. And suddenly his outline is blurry.

I suck in air like I’m dying as I try to reconcile what my eyes and mind are telling me.

“Blue! Are you alright?”

I shake my head and whatever words I was trying to speak only come out as a mournful sob.

“Blue… Blue, I’m going to hug you, ok? Don’t freak out.”

I’m grateful for his warning as his body slides against mine. He’s warm and I immediately focus myself, trying to hear his heartbeat. I need his scent. I need to ground myself.

“Blue, take it easy. Just breathe, ok? Here, come on, try to match my breathing.”

He presses me against his chest and breathes in deep and slow, exhaling in the same way. I force my overactive lungs to follow his direction, following his breath.

It takes a minute before my breathing evens out, but Master continues to hold me after my heart calms down as well. There is comfort in the soft movement of his hand in my hair, the other tracing small patterns down the side of my body, as if I were a nervous horse needing soothing.

“Blue, how...” His speech is garbled my my mind and no matter how much I try to pay attention the words are just inarticulate sounds to me.

“Yes, Master” I answer without thinking. It’s always a good answer.

“Blue, that’s not an answer. How do you feel?”

I feel my face heat. Stars, he’s going to think I’m not listening to him. Not that letting him know I’m so distracted in my own mind is that much better.

I hesitate a moment, taking the time to actually think about my body and mind, run myself through a simple mental checklist of what I need to feel stable.

“I… I feel much better, Master”

I find my words eventually, but Master does not push me off of him. He simply continues sliding his hand through my hair, repeating the simple patterns down my side. I’m grateful. I don’t want to be let go of just yet.

“So, there are some leash and collar laws that I didn’t know about.” He says it as though he’s trying to make conversation.

“And here I thought Anthony was just being a dick to you… Anyway, I picked up this collar when I first got you, but I’m an idiot and I just entirely forgot to give it to you.”

He holds up the collar so that I can see it this time. The bell is just as shiny as I remember it, and the desire to put it on is intense.

I want to belong here. I want to belong to Master.

“I’m going to put this on you, ok? I just don’t want you to panic again.”

My face is beet red as I bare my neck for the collar. I almost don’t believe how easily it goes on. How freely Master gives it to me.

He buckles the strap and just like that, I am securely his.

Owned.

Safe.

Now, no-one will mistake me for a stray.

With Master’s assistance I get to my feet, though my knees feel like jelly. I say as much and Master gives me a crooked smile.

“Yeah, we did walk quite a ways today. At least we know for sure that your feet are completely healed, though it will take some time for you to build up your endurance.”

Master picks up the bags from where he’d placed them when he came in before turning back to me.

“You can go upstairs and grab some rest while I put these away, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. I’ll wake you for dinner, how does that sound?”

It sounds like heaven, it sounds like something so much more than I deserve, but I don’t question it and head for the stairs.

“Blue, wait, don’t forget this!”

I turn around and Master has the little yellow feline pillow in his hand. He’s just holding it out to me, and even I’m not dense enough to think he means anything else. But is it really ok to take it? I’d gotten him into so much trouble over it.

What kind of person would reward a misbehaving pet?

“Blue, take it.”

I hesitate only a moment longer before chancing words.

“I’m sorry Master, but I was such trouble today, are you really going to let me hold this?”

Master’s eyes narrow and my hand goes to clutch at the bell on my collar. I just got it, will Master take it away so soon?

“Blue, you’re not just going to hold it. This is yours.”

He waves the little pillow in the air at me to emphasize his point. He pauses and leans in, voice quieter as if he’s telling me a secret, and I have to lean in just to hear him.

“I’m trusting you with something very important, ok? This will be yours and no-one else’s. No one will be able to take this from you, not even me. This belongs to you, and you are responsible for it. Do you think you can handle it?”

My first instinct is to argue. I don’t even own myself, how does Master expect me to own something? But this Master likes to have different at-home rules, that much he’s made clear from day one.

It scares me, but I believe him entirely. Out of everything in the world, this little plush toy is the one thing that I own. I’ll be allowed to hold it and squeeze it and pet its soft fur whenever I want. It doesn’t mean I won’t get into trouble for having it in an inappropriate situation, it just means that Master has given me a gift.

Not just a toy, but a promise.

Master won’t take it from me.

It belongs to me.

With reverent hands I reach out to take it from Master, wary even as I reach out that he will snap his hand back and laugh at my foolishness. But I take it from his hand, the soft, plush fur of the pillow immediately giving way to my fingers.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt a softer material.

I thank Master profusely and nearly bound up the stairs, launching into bed with my new companion pressed against my chest.

Despite all the setbacks, today was one of the best days of my life.

Chapter Text

Kara

The morning’s cool and crisp, dew making glittery patterns in the morning light.  Early rising sparrows sing while the sky gives a very faint impression of movement with lazy clouds drifting in the upper reaches of the atmosphere.  It’s impossibly serene.

Or it would be if it wasn’t the first day of school.

I’ve cooked breakfast, though it was more for something to do with my hands than anything else.  I’m too nauseous to partake.

I’m up hours before I should be, though given the state I was in last night, maybe I just never settled into sleep.  I’ve cleaned the floors and the kitchen twice and checked my bag a few thousand times. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.  I’ve prepared for this. I studied and I trained and I got anything I needed weeks ago.

There’s nothing to worry about.  It’s not like someone’s going to notice me.  Who would recognize me? I’m just a nobody to them, with no family or title.  I’m not worth a second glance, I’m not interesting enough.

Stars, when did it get this hard to breathe?

I sit down hard in my chair and watch the sunlight paint the sky.

This is exactly how I wanted it.  This is how it has to be. Everything’s going to be fine.  If nothing else, I will know Shauna.

I wonder how Andé’s been, and whether Shauna’s actually treating him well, or better in any case.  Did she treat his wounds? Is she feeding him? I think of Blue, of how wrecked his body was when he first came to me.

The Market didn’t even think he was worth treating.

Things with Blue are… strange, to put it mildly.  I’m realizing he reacts better to orders, or at least things that are phrased as orders.  Giving him things makes him panic, but phrasing it like it’s some big reward or some special privilege seems to work.

I need to work on it, I know, but last night when I had to explain that he could keep the little plush toy I bought for him, it was heartbreaking.  I’ve only been living with him for a few days, hardly enough to scratch the surface of his trauma. I don’t know what to do for him. I don’t know what I can do for him, if I’m being honest.

Sure, I feed and clothe him, but what am I really doing?  He smiles sometimes when he thinks I’m not looking. I’ve caught glimpses, but I’m not stupid enough to think that means he’s ok.

Last night’s freakout proved that.

I should have talked to Blue the second we left the store, but I wanted to wait until we were home to deal with that whole nightmare.  Everything seems so fragile between us. I don’t know how to fix it. It’s like I’m walking a tightrope, but if I misstep it’s Blue who falls.

I only have a second to compose myself as I hear the tinkling of a bell.  If one good thing has come of yesterday’s missteps, it’s that Blue’s movements throughout the house aren’t as silent as before.

“Master?”

Blue emerges from the hallway into the light of the kitchen.  There’s worry in his eyes, a distant, ever-present ghost. He kneels and crawls the remaining way to me, though he stops a respectable distance away, within arm’s reach.

“Did you sleep well?” I don’t know what possesses me to say it.  Maybe it’s my own lack of sleep or perhaps just poor judgement. It just sounds so stupid saying it out loud.

“Yes, Master… If you needed me awake earlier I—”

“No, no.”  It wasn’t meant as a rebuke, I just wanted to make sure he had a good night.  I don’t like the way he’s talking to my kneecaps, but I suppose it’s better than the floor.

“You’re up at a good time, I’m just nervous about our first day.  I got up early and made breakfast. You hungry?”

It’s not a fair question, I know that.  I can see Blue’s ribs when he bathes, the way his too-prominent collarbones stick out from under his shirt.  The signs of hunger being used against him to make him compliant, malleable.

His head tilts sheepishly to the side and I can see the infinitesimal rise of his shoulders, the way his arms cross around his midsection of their own accord.  It doesn’t even look like Blue’s doing it on purpose, it’s just an involuntary response to protect his vital organs in case his answer is unsatisfactory.

“I-um, you…you haven’t eaten,” he points out instead of answering.

He’s right, of course. I was too full of nervous energy to sit and eat this morning.  The food I made in this morning’s flurry of activity sits on the table, untouched.

“You’re right, Blue,” I chuckle.  I need to be careful of my phrasing. “I really don’t like eating alone, so I was hoping when you came down we could eat together.”

He nods in short, clipped movements, staring at his own knees for a change, before gathering the courage to speak.

“Yes, Master.  Do… do you want me—“

“I’d like you to sit in the chair right next to me, Blue.”

He picks himself up and crawls onto the chair next to me, sitting on his heels in a way that doesn’t look exactly comfortable.  Come to think of it, that’s the way he sat when we had breakfast together the first time, which was really the only other time we’ve been at the table together.  I can’t remember if he did it during our little chat over tea and cookies, but I suppose I wasn’t looking. He’d spent the rest of his time getting food from me in bed.

Is that just the way he sits?

Is it comfortable for him?

I can’t help myself as I start piling up food on his plate.

“Blue, why do you sit like that?”

“I, um,” he stammers, seeming startled, whether by the question or by being addressed at all, I’m not sure, “this is a relaxed kneel.  Waiting position 5, but it’s what most people mean when they say sit. Do you want me arranged differently?”

He’s more nervous than when he came in.  I can’t help but feel a little responsible, like my nervous energy is fueling Blue’s state.

“No, there’s nothing wrong, I was just wondering if you wanted to sit…”

I can’t say ‘like a person’. I know he’ll freak out, and I can’t deal with that today, not when we have to make a good impression.

I just want him to be comfortable.

“…on your butt, with your legs down.” I settle for the factual description.

Blue colors immediately and looks away.  

“That would be highly irregular and breach conduct.”

“Oh, would it?” I find myself responding stupidly.

“Yes. I don’t delude myself when you allow me on the furniture, Master.  I know my place. When Master allows me on the furniture it’s for display.”

I can feel the headache behind my eyes starting so I just shut up and pass Blue his plate, trying not to throw up on my own.  

Not allowed on the furniture unless you’re on display, what kind of shit is that?  Blue’s head is fully down and he’s scrutinizing his plate with the care of a researcher.  Now’s not the time to try and go over this. Not when we have to be presentable for school.

I let the issue go and settle for watching the shaking fork move food up to his mouth.  I’ve freaked him out enough. Blue doesn’t manage to finish the plate, but he hasn’t finished a plate in all the time I’ve had him.  I suppose I should give him smaller portions so he can at least feel like he’s finished a plate, but I can’t. It just feels like I’m withholding food and I don’t want to make Blue any more nervous.  Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Blue learns I won’t punish him for not finishing his food. Stars, if that’s a rule...

I’m just happy he’s eating.

The dishes get a quick wash and Blue sheepishly asks what I’d like him to wear for school.  Together we pick out a soft grey tunic that’s modest enough that it doesn’t matter how low Blue has to wear the navy colored pants underneath.  Paired with the black slippers I got to protect his feet, he looks just about as well dressed as any general store could make him.

I pull out my own clothes for the day before I realize that Blue hasn’t left.  It seems stupid, but I really don’t like the idea of people in the room while I dress.  I give it a handful of seconds, but Blue doesn’t leave, just takes up a silent post petting what must be the incredibly soft fur of his plush toy.

“Um, Blue…”

He snaps to attention, hand leaving the absent motion instantly.

“Yes, Master?”

“I’m, um,” Stars, it sounds so petty, “I need to get dressed.  Can you wai--”

Blue immediately comes forward. “I-I can help!  Sorry to make you wait. I’ll get-”

“No!” I know it’s come out harsher than I meant it to when Blue takes a step back and presses his lips together to quiet himself.  

“Blue, just… All I meant was that I’d rather you wait outside.  Can you do that for me?”

He nods his head quickly and all but rushes out of the room with his toy in hand.  The door closes softly, but it might as well have been slammed. I didn’t mean it that way, but I let my frustration seep into my voice.  I’m not some invalid who can’t do it himself. Or a nobleman who never learned how to tie a sash and just has his servants do everything for him.

I dress myself as quickly as possible.  I don’t want Blue to stew in his own thoughts too long. Stars only know what sorts of rules he’ll think he’s broken.

Blue’s waiting for me at the door, head down and kneeling, plushy nowhere in sight.  He’s brought my schoolbag to the front door, though. I take a moment to stroke his hair and mumble niceties before I take the bag and open the door for us both.

There’s a period of awkward silence when Blue is simply content to walk three steps behind me, looking down at my feet to gauge exactly where I am, and I cannot think of anything to say.  I keep trying to think up a conversation starter, but all the words die on my lips.

At least it’s a nice day.  The first real freeze of winter has yet to descend, so we have some more time before the garden needs to be prepared.  I wonder if Blue would enjoy that? If nothing else, I’m sure he needs the excuse to be outside. I’ve kept him cooped up for almost a week, only taking him out for the run to grab him clothes and shoes.

If I’m going to be owning another living being, I need to be better.

“KARA!” I flinch to the side, just conscious enough not to throw myself into the street.

“Stars above, Shauna! Don’t do that!”

My heart’s pounding, ready to leap out of my chest.  Shauna’s head sticks out of the stalled carriage in front of us.

“Aw, come on, you’re no fun! Hop in, I’ll give you a ride, dummy.”  I roll my eyes, but accept her offer. It would be nice not to walk with just my thoughts today.

Shauna’s always been good at filling the silence.

She’s dressed in an opulent yellow robe with the flowery patterns embroidered into the trim.  Though her sash isn’t tied quite right in the back, and the tie in her hair is lopsided,she pulls it off.  It looks like it was done on purpose, not because she couldn’t go through her year long morning routine today.

I swear, she’d manage to make a potato sack look regal.  From her posture to her presence, she has a highborn air. I’m almost jealous.

Blue waits patiently for my offered hand before even trying to get into the carriage.  Shauna’s personal carriage was a gift from her mother when she first moved into the inner city.  The whole thing is carved with all sorts of useless intricacies, to the point where it actually takes some work to find the running board.

Blue has to follow my lead to find the actual stable piece of wood meant to help you step up into the cabin.  Even still, the driver pulls forward a bit prematurely and Blue falls into my lap with a yelp.

“So this is him, yeah?”

I nod, taking a second to pet Blue’s head where it’s fallen into my chest.

“Yeah, this is Blue.”

I don’t know if I should be offended or proud that she had to ask.  He obviously looks better than the last time she saw him, but there’s a part of me that takes it as a jab.  As though I’d killed him already and went out to get another familiar that looked similar enough to fool Shauna.

Blue peels himself off me, looking sheepish and more than a little pink as he goes to his knees on the carriage floor.  I’m about to protest when I notice that Shauna’s familiar is in the same position beside her.

He looks well, at least.  He’s dressed to match Shauna’s color scheme and clothed so I can’t see any of his wounds, but he doesn’t hold himself like he’s hurting.  He just keeps his gaze submissive, pointed at the floor, though his ear does give a little twitch when Blue kneels across from him. I wonder whether he wants to interact with Blue.  Blue’s not quite trembling, but he is giving the tell-tale twitches of panic. I settle for running my fingers through his hair, gently pulling until I’ve gotten him to lean against my legs.

I hope there’s some comfort in the position, some warmth or solidity.

Shauna’s face is twisted up in distaste and before I can say anything, she’s already gone off.

“Kara, you can’t just let him walk around with those bruises.  Stars, he hasn’t given you any problems, has he?”

“No! Shauna, what are you--”

“His face is all bruised up still.  I know it was just the market, but no-one else does.  Kara, they’re going to think he’s a troublemaker. And where’s your leash!”

I’m silent.  There’s nothing I can respond with. I feel my mouth open to try to give a response, but I might as well put my own foot in it.

There are rules, expectations, and I was so worried about my own anxiety that I hadn’t even thought about what I needed to do for Blue.  We need to present as a good match, a ready student and an obedient familiar.

“Look, as much as I like actually knowing something that you don’t, this is not the best situation.” Shauna tries to pull us back into a moderate tone, but my heart is going too fast to accept the change of pace.

“Shauna!” I feel the panic building up inside me and it’s all I can do to keep my voice level.  “What can we do? There’s no way to heal Blue’s bruises in time, and where am I supposed to get a leash?”

Shauna bites her lip and starts going through her bag.

“Well, I think… Yeah, the old leash I had for my Zenzi cub should still be in the luggage box. As for his bruises…” She pulls out a small glass bottle with a pigmented paste inside. “At least you have clothes that cover most of it… Come here, Blue.”

Blue’s pressed against me hard now, and it’d be hard to deny the trembling that’s taking him over.  I doubt he’s a fan of the shouting. But when he hears no objection, he crawls his way over to Shauna.

She forces his head up and holds the glass next to his face, which is hovering an inch above her lap.  He’s not gotten permission to touch her, my mind helpfully supplies, in the most unhelpful way.

“Well, it’s close enough…”

She carefully uncaps the bottle and runs her finger through the pigment.  Makeup, why hadn’t I thought of that?

“Oh, eww, eww.  You owe me big time Kara.”  She brushes a clump of the pigment onto Blue’s face and quickly removes her hand, wiping away the excess on a handkerchief.  Aside from the atrocious bedside manner, she’s actually done pretty amazingly. I doubt anyone else would have makeup on hand.

Blue hurries to brush the makeup along the bruises on his face in practiced sweeping motions.  The pigment isn’t a perfect match for his skin, but he disguises it excellently, thinning it at the edges so that it blends convincingly enough.  

Blue’s well practiced with makeup.

I file the fact away with all the little things I’ve come to notice about my familiar.  I wonder if he’ll want some, and whether that’s something we can pick up for him along with more suitable clothes this weekend.

Blue’s eyes stay glued to the floor as he tilts his head up for me, showing off his handiwork.  I realize belatedly that he’s looking for words of approval, or a comment about how he’s missed a spot.

“Looks good, Blue.  You have a very good hand for this.”

He buries his head against my leg, carefully avoiding the fresh layer of makeup and settles for tousling his hair with my thigh. I have no choice but to take back my position stroking his hair.  I don’t need to see his face to know he’s blushing.

“Oh, now that is just too cute. Ahg, get a room!”

I try to fix Shauna with my deadest stare, but it flops after only a few seconds.  She’s right, it is unbearably cute when Blue gets this way.

“Aaahhh...”

I look up to see Shauna stroking the soft, fluffy ears of her familiar with fervor.  It’s obviously getting to him. He hasn’t broken position, but he’s flushed all the way down his neck, mouth open and panting.

“Andé, how come you never react like that, hmmm? Do I need to do this more?  Do I need to tell you how pretty you are more?”

She smiles and gives his ears a rest, pulling him against her lap, and just runs her fingers through his hair.

There’s a gentle hum about the cabin.  Blue, fresh faced and petted while Shauna takes her time scratching Andé into a state of limp bodied bliss.

I just wish it could last.

We’re on school grounds before we know it.  The carriage lets us off at the front gates, past a whole field of dueling squares.

I’m struck again by the majesty of this place.  The enormous square building. The courtyard, with a breezeway that makes it seem open and airy.  The large common studies pavilion that launches four stories up into the air, and an arcanists’ tower on the other side, covered in ivy, going up even higher.  That would be enough, but the graduate halls, oh stars.

The spaces of higher study are quite literally higher.  On the ground we can only see the pulsating crystals and their platforms, but at the right angle you can see a few of the buildings floating above the school.

I can feel the familiar excitement coursing through my veins.  This is what I wanted. This is why I’m here. Magic everywhere, all around us.  And this is only our first day.

“Kara! By the stars, can you stop bouncing in place for one minute!”

I am bouncing, and I try to settle, but there’s a tap to my foot that doesn’t quite go away.  I must look like a fool with my grin plastered from ear to ear, but I can’t bring myself to care.  I really did it. I’m here. I’m going to study magic.

Potions with Brendan Rotan

Herbology with Lonel Her

Evocation with Epis Schul

Wand craft with Xaras Neitch

Dueling magics with Rus Balt

And…

Familiar training and advanced casting with the same teacher: Ryuki Burg.

Blue’s just kneeling by the carriage, in his little relaxed kneel.  Blessedly ignorant to the fact that I just forgot he was there.

I need to watch myself.  I can’t get distracted. Blue needs me here.  He needs me to be his protector, he needs me to watch out for him.  As amazing as this is for me, it’s dangerous for Blue.

I can’t forget that.

Shauna eventually pulls out a slightly mussed up leather leash.  Apparently her Zenzi cub was very reluctant to follow a lead. The clip fits on the little metal ring under Blue’s bell and Blue doesn’t give an ounce of resistance to following the lead.

People are starting to trickle in at a steadier rate, and we find ourselves led by faculty and staff into the large courtyard inside the gates.  There’s a lot of people and a lot of different familiars. Blue doesn’t seem inclined to give them much attention, but I can’t help the way my pace slows so that I can take in the scene.  New students coming in with their familiars, most of them following docily, only a few giving their Masters trouble.

There’s one tall, lanky familiar pulling on their leash, digging their heels into the soft dirt, ruby antena poised in angry defiance, hissing at their owner.  I’ve only ever seen that kind in books, a hissing cockroach. They’re supposed to be stubborn and angry familiars, but the whole of the cockroach species of familiar are not really trainable, though they are practically indestructible.  Their kind will live at least twelve years under constant use, so they are really only popular with scholarly mages. The ones that need results and don’t have to take their familiars out where they might be expected to behave. Their breed does have a nasty stigma about carrying disease to other familiars, if they’re housed with them.  It’s probably just a rumor, but I still move so that I’m blocking Blue from view.

There are people without familiars.  When she sees my confusion Shauna whispers that they’re not part of the five year magister program, they’re just magic capable students honing skill, not pursuing a full degree.  I follow silently behind her for a ways, keeping Blue where I can see him.

I didn’t know that was an option, but I suppose it makes sense.

 There’s a podium with five heavy oak chairs behind it, and the courtyard is full of little foldable ones.  

Shauna pushes us to the front to get “good seats” for the orientation ceremony.  

We find our seats and Blue kneels beside me.  It’s a different kneel, more alert, and when I look to Shauna I see the same pose mimicked in André.

It must be a pose they know…

In any case no-one takes offense.   Someone slides into the chair behind me, and a strange avian familiar falls into place beneath her.   The avian goes into kneeling position, but quickly seems to get bored and starts looking around, fixating on the only other thing at her eye level, Blue.  She gives a quiet coo, and bobs her head a little to try and get his attention, but Blue shows no sign of having heard her. Nothing except pressing just a bit closer to my leg.

Her owner notices before I have to say anything.  It’s a short tailed shearwater, she tells me before pulling on her leash to get her avian to stop bothering my familiar. Apparently, the breed is very friendly.

The gates close and the vibrant buzzing atmosphere of new students talking with each other comes to an almost immediate halt.  We are under an open sky in the early morning, but that doesn’t seem to matter as the courtyard darkens like we’re being sealed off from the rest of the world.  It continues until it’s hard to see my hands in front of my face.

Then suddenly, there’s light.

Brilliant little splashes of color trailing around the blocks of chairs, zigzagging through the aisles.  Red then green, sparks of yellow casting ethereal glows down the interior walls of this place. They whip around spastically for a few more seconds, new colors joining the fray, bouncing off each other in inflammatory rays, until one of them hits the stage.

The flicker of light dies the second it touches the wooden platform, but a deep red plume of smoke takes its place.  Like moths to a flame, the sparks have direction now and single-mindedly rush towards the stage.

Similar clouds of billowing smoke rise in the same manner, and before anyone has a chance to murmur an older man steps out of the smoke.  Clothed in a regal red embroidered with gold, the school’s crest emblazoned on his robe, the man exudes authority. He has good reason.

I’ve only met him once before for my entrance examinations.  This is the Dean of the Academia.

Four others step out of the smoke, clothed in different robes, no less fine, though in a variety of different styles, all with the school’s crest.  I don’t know them, but I have a feeling that I will learn their importance very soon.

For now, all my focus is on the dean.

He raises his hands above him and in a snap of light a banner unfolds behind him.  The school’s crest waves proudly in the gentle breeze of the courtyard. Glittering lights blare into existence on stage, illuminating the spectacle before us.  The dean and the four other people stand in a perfect line, appraising the new year of students.

The dean’s voice bellows, unnaturally loud in the open space.

“Welcome, students, to Majik’s Academia!”

Chapter Text

Kara

Orientation passes without the flair of the initial precession.  The dean speaks to us briefly about what an amazing opportunity we have here at this school and how much we need to seize the bright path before us.

The other figures introduce themselves with shorter speeches relating to their departments instead of just telling us to make smart choices.  It’s a bit over an hour before whatever spell holds the auditorium in dim light is lifted and we’re allowed to actually start our day.

And it’s going to be a long one.  

Most of these classes will only happen a few days of the week, but today all of them are meeting with shorter time blocks.  Perfect for meet and greets, but not for much else. In any case, I’m glad I’ll get to meet all my professors at once.

Evocations is a second floor general studies class, and Epis is a rather… eccentric character, seemingly as eccentric as his classroom.

He’s dressed in so many bright colors it’s honestly hard to look at him.  He has paper sutras and a thick stacked spiral of spell beads coiled around his waist like a sash.  There are wide stretches of tapestries from all over the world on the wall of the classroom, depicting all manner of demons, gods, and wars.  Floating crystals shed light all over the room. Glass incense holders in the shape of animals run around and spread the smoke as far as they can go.  

One dark cerulean spun glass horse is very interested in Blue, seemingly stuck in a rote walking program right around Blue’s knees.  He doesn’t reach out grab it, but he is following it quite intently with his eyes.

The incense makes my eyes hurt, but I’m glad he is at least occupied.  I’d been worried about how long class days would be. Not every class needs a familiar in the workplace, but Blue still needs to stay with me.  I should grab him some books. Maybe he’d like a journal, something to occupy him when I need to keep my focus elsewhere. Something better than an enchanted piece of glass that’s making him sneeze.

Not everyone has a familiar in this class, but given all the practical exams scheduled, this is a fairly writing intensive class, so that makes sense.  This is not a class exclusively for the five year magister program.

Even though this class is in as much of a lecture hall as this campus has, I can feel people watching.  For some reason people are starting to stare at me. It feels like I’m the only one continuing to jot down notes while our teacher rambles.  My skin feels itchy and tight, but I just focus on keeping my posture good and my writing steady.

I knew I wouldn’t quite fit in here, but I didn’t think it would be a problem so soon.  I’m fresh meat, someone that these people haven’t gossiped to death and back since childhood.  

I’m shiny.

A bell blares it’s simple chime all throughout the school grounds.  I don’t remember seeing a clocktower, but this place s so riddled with stars forsaken magic, it might just be a spell.  For a moment I’m confused, classes have specific timed schedules… except for today.

Today all classes are happening at once, multiple sections have to meet at different times.  They’re probably using the bells to keep us all on track. We haven’t made it through half of Epis’ syllabus and given the opportunity, he’d talk for another year.  

The others are gathering up their stuff, taking the time to group up and talk.  A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, I am not ready for that. I’m out the door, nearly dragging Blue in my haste.

“Master? Is something wrong?”

I barely hear my excuse, something about being late to our next class, over the buzzing in my head.  

All my faculties are dedicated to coming up with answers.  Figuring out exactly what I’m going to say when the vultures finally get ahold of me.  I need everything to hold up to even the strictest scrutiny. Because they are going to go through everything I say with a fine tooth comb.  

I know the type.  Even the word choice has meaning.  If they find something they think doesn’t match up, they’ll pick and dig until they actually find something to talk about.  Or they’ll make something up. Stars know my position at this school is tenuous enough as it is.

It turns out the head start I’ve got on the class rush was good for another reason.  We barely make it all the way to the greenhouse and arboretum for Herbology before the late bell rings.

Our classroom is a beautiful glass building with steel bindings just outside the actual greenhouse.  Desks and chairs are lined in two simple rows with a large desk and board at the front for the teacher.  I’ve been looking forward to this class. This is the first chance I’ve ever had to actually train with the experts.  Natural magic was the first thing to present in me. I wouldn’t be here without it, never would have thought to pursue magic.  I feel significantly less anxious about the bundled pack of my own herbs I’ve brought for our teacher.

This is a smaller class, so I don’t mind being seen as too eager in here.

Standing at the front of the room is our teacher.  She doesn’t have the stiff robes of an academic mage, nor does she dress in the vibrant colors Epis seems to favor.  She’d settled on a soft, sage green tunic with worn boots, gloves in hand. This is someone who's just gotten out of the garden.  I hope we’ll get along.

Her attention turns to me and she speaks when I hold out my package for her.

“Sir, what on this good land have you brought into this class?”

I feel my ears burn hot and I try to force a smile on my face.  The teacher’s eyes are fixed on me, as are every other student’s.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I’m sorry Ms. Jer, I… Um.”  I’m too nervous to retract my offering, but I look it over quickly for anything that would offend her.

It’s a more nicely packaged version of what most mages request.  I figured she’d like it, they never complain. I look down at my clothes.  Nothing’s gotten on them, as far as I can tell. I can’t for the life of me figure out what she means.

She picks up her clipboard testily and halfheartedly scans it.

“Kara, I presume?”

“Yes, Ms. Jer.  What exactly would--”

“That is a distraction that I will not allow in my class.” She’s pointing demonstratively towards my right shoulder.  I turn and realize that she’s talking about Blue.

I take a quick look at this small class.  No one else here has a familiar next to them, and I can feel my face heat.

So, no familiars are allowed in this classroom.  I really don’t want to drop this class, but he is required for other classes…

“I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t see that listed on the course sheet.  I have other classes later today that require him.”

“You and half this school.  But my classroom will be a distraction free zone. We’re already cutting into class time today with this nonsense.  Tomorrow you’ll drop him off at the care center with all the others. Now, what is that you’ve got there?”

“Oh,” I fluster, remembering I had her gift in my hands, “just something for you.  For the start of the new year…”

I hand it over, and though she does seem more than a little annoyed at Blue’s continued existence, she accepts the gift.

“That was very thoughtful…but don’t think this means you’re off the hook.  Now, get to your seat, and so help me if I see as much as your hand straying you can spend the rest of class time in the hallway.”

Suitably chastised, I keep my head down and walk to the last remaining desk.  Blue settles close to my leg and though a few people stare, we’re left pretty much alone.

I wish I could reassure Blue, but I keep both hands on the desk at all times.

Apparently Dueling Magics has a similar policy, and I’m advised to check Blue into the care center so that he will be out of the way during class.

Walking into Potions has me sighing in relief. People are finding their way around all the workstations and almost all of them have familiars.  Even the teacher seems to have his own, though it’s being a little less than helpful.

They’re done up in tasteful dark robes with a pale yellow sash tied at the waist.  It’s hard to see anything else. They have an incredibly curly mop of black hair that covers most of their face, but that doesn’t seem stop them from navigating around the professor. Beetle-like wings are trying and failing to open, stuck in the outer layer of clothing.  Practical, if this is a regular occurrence, and the annoyed yet resigned look on the professor’s face seems to indicate that it is.

“Tulla! Get back here!  You can’t run around in here, the next class is about to start.”  He grabs them around the waist and lifts their slim figure off the ground.  They're too short and thin to weigh much, but their legs keep moving for a few minutes, before they seem to realize they aren’t making any progress.  They are walked back behind the desk and sat down on a rolling chair next to the demonstration cauldron with a firm order to sit.

Remarkably, they stay, if only out of boredom.  They continue to swivel their head as if they haven’t heard a word.  It’s not till then that I see the antenna, they had been moving too quickly for me to be able to pick out the delicate grey appendages from the matching hair.

“Good morning class, welcome to Beginning Potions.  I will be your teacher, Professor Rotan. Please pick a workstation, each of you gets one and it will be yours for the entire year.”

That sets people into motion.  Suddenly everyone is very fascinated with any minute difference in the perfectly identical cauldrons and packs of utensils.

“Blue?” He jerks a bit before looking up at me.  I feel bad, I should have been paying more attention, but in the rush of it all, I really haven’t had much time for him.  Not that the past two teachers would have allowed it. He seemed to have drifted off into his own world.

“Yes, Master?”  His voice is quiet, but a bit rough.  I should get him some water soon. Stars, I can’t be this neglectful.

“Blue, how about you pick out a place for us?”

He looks up at me, very subtly with the corners of his eyes. His terror is not so subtle.

“What? Master, what do you mean?” He’s whispering, but everyone’s so consumed in their “careful examinations” they’re not even sparing us a glance.

“Blue, each one of these stations comes with exactly the same stuff.  The only difference is where it is in the room. I want you to pick. We are going to be in here a lot for class, and I want you to feel comfortable.”

He takes sneaking glances around the room, twisting his hands together over and over.  Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea. I was hoping he’d like the ability to choose at least something in this messed up day, but could it be too much?  I didn’t mean to push him like this. He’s obviously nervous.

I’m watching Blue more than I’m watching the people in the room, and I see his panic go on for a little bit longer.  I don’t want to take it back. I gave him a choice to make, and I want to follow through. But I can see him start to tremble, ears pressing hard against his head as his eyes flick faster all around the room.

I’m about to intervene when he moves to the last available station by the windows and falls hard into a kneel.  I hear the crack of his knees on the tile and I have to hold in the urge to just drop down with him and make sure he’s alright.  He’s not shaking, but he’s holding himself too still. His eyes are unfocused and just staring straight ahead. I’d think he was bored if his ears weren’t pulling as far down as they could go.

I set my stuff down on his chosen station to claim it.  The others are still milling about, picking which they like best.  I’ve got a little time.

“Blue?” He doesn’t seem to react to me, but when I kneel down I can see that he is trembling again.  He’s starting to cry.

Stars, I don’t know what to do.

I would take him in my arms if I thought that he wouldn’t scream on contact.

I grab one of the new beakers off the work stand and fill it at the water basin, wetting my handkerchief along with it. It takes me more time than I’m comfortable with to come up with all the words I need for this situation

“Blue, you’re such a good boy, so obedient. You did such a good job.”

He’s trembling just a bit more and I bite the inside of my cheek and look around.  No one’s bothering to look in this direction yet, we haven’t made a disturbance.

“Blue.” I put down the beaker a little to his right, just within his view.

“Blue, I want you to pick this beaker up.”  His hands move slowly, in jerky movements, like he’s trying to force himself.  The shaking is more pronounced in his hands, but even so they wrap around the beaker with more care than is strictly necessary.  I can hear his breathing now, ragged and strained. He’s holding himself so still it’s like a spring pulled taut. He’s trying not to spill the water.

“Blue, you’re doing very good.  This is going to be simple. I need you to obey.  That’s all.” I let the thoughts sink in for a few moments.  I need him in this headspace, small orders, simple commands, safe.

“Sit back on your heels.”

He falls into position like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

“Raise your head.” It’s slower than I’d like, but it’s what I’ve got and nothing critical is coming out of my mouth right now.

I take a moment to check him over.  He’s pale and panting, but he seems to be calming.  He’s going to be tired, it’s hard to hold that strong of an emotional response for too long.  Though blind panic and fear seem to be the state that Blue lives in. His eyes are red and blotchy, and there are tear stains down his face, but he’s not currently crying.

I take it as a good sign.

“Stay.” I try to say it less like a warning, more like a structural command.  He’s not in trouble, it would just do him good to stay in position. I sweep the wet corner of my handkerchief over his face, clearing up the tears first, but then just trying to find a soothing rhythm.  I know I’ve found it when I hear him croon.

The sound shuts off in an aborted grunt and he chances a look up at my face.  I try to keep it impassive. The trembling has stopped, and he’s just listening.

“I didn’t say you had to stay silent.  If I need you quiet, I will tell you.” I fold the handkerchief and put it away.  “You did very good just then. The last thing I need you to do is drink. You have all class, you don’t need to finish the beaker, but I want you to have some.  Ok?”

Blue nods.  He’s not shaking anymore.  His ears still show wariness, but they are tilted, enough so that I can scratch underneath them and get a choked little laugh out of him.

Everyone’s settled, but before class can begin the doors open again. It’s well past the late bell, but everyone can see that there will be no repercussions.  Genevive has walked into the class.

My heart seizes in my chest.  I didn’t think we’d be meeting again so soon.  The first time was a fluke, but I should have been prepared for this.  Stars above, we are going to the same school... Of course we are going to see each other.

She’s done up in what I assume are the most fashionable robes, her familiar trailing behind her carrying books and a satchel.  She takes a brief look around the room, almost like she’s challenging people to meet her eyes. There’s pause as her heeled slippers click on the wood.

“How nice of you to join us, Genevive.  Find a workstation and we’ll start.”

There’s an empty one in the back of class right near the bookshelf.  Every other one is occupied, but she looks around as though she’s considering her options.

She comes closer to me, and I see the singularly predatory glint of her eyes.  She’s recognized me. I’m screwed.

“Kara, was it?” I don’t like the way she’s advancing on me and it’s a struggle to find a respectful stance.

“Yes…”

“Excellent, since we are such good friends, we can definitely switch right?  I really wanted to sit by the window.”

I don’t want to say yes. It would get it over with, show her I’m not a threat and go peacefully into the night.  But Blue picked this spot, and nearly had a heart attack in doing so. I don’t want to give it up for some cheap power trip, or whatever this is.

I barely have time to open my mouth before the teacher is on her, a bored tone cutting through the tension as though it wasn’t there.

“Well, then you should have gotten here on time.  There’s a desk open for you.”

There is silence in the room as these two size each other up.  If anyone could talk back to someone like Genevive, it would be a teacher.  He seems adamant about this seating selection, and eventually Genevive moves over to the empty desk with Blanc.

I’m not an idiot, I don’t think for one moment I’ve been saved.

The teacher was the one who challenged the seating assignment, but I was the one who didn’t immediately go along with it.  I am the nobody who showed resistance to one of the most elite families in the capital city. There will be consequences. The casual interest that people might have had in me is the least of my problems now.

I think I’ve been screwed…

There’s a crash at the front of class and I look up to see Talla, feet in the air, knocking over different containers of fluids.  We are told later during class that she’s something called a question mark cockroach, as the professor shows off the beautiful and vibrant design on her wings, but she’s no less stubborn than others of her breed.  Though apparently she really likes potion components and will sit still watching them mix.

It’s a good distraction until the bell rings.

We only have to survive lunch in the common area and deal with a few more classes.  After that there will be rest from this madness. We can go home.

Blue passes his half empty beaker to me as people are filing out.  He offers a weak smile in thanks, and for a moment, everything has been worth it.

I hope this can last...

Chapter Text

Kara

I stay behind after the bell.  Partially to ask our professor about something strange in the syllabus, but mostly to avoid the crowd of people that is our class.  

Genevive wastes no time pushing open the doors and heading out, and within a few minutes the others start filing out as well.

Blue sits peacefully enough, suffering a curious sniffing from Tulla without complaint.  Before long, the coast is clear and I wave goodbye to Professor Rotan before Tulla can get any more curious.  

The halls are empty and I heave a sigh of relief.

Great, now I just need to keep this up for the next five years…

We can’t go to the common space, but some part of my brain knows it will be worse if we don’t.  Either way, I’m sure one day won’t hurt. There are still plenty of things I need to do before I plunge into that whole war zone.

The halls are almost entirely deserted by the time we step out, but that’s fine.  Just means that there’s no-one pushing me to the common space. I’m rather shocked that anyone’s in the halls.  Orientation is supposed to be a full week before the rest of the student body comes in, a week to get comfortable with this confusing campus, but after a second I recognize the difference in their robes.  These are graduate students fulfilling very focused study programs. They’ve been here a good few weeks before any of us got on campus. I bet they aren’t overly fond of the new meat that’s making their study areas noisy.  

They’re my only hope at navigating through this school.  I have to risk it. I run after the one in stormclass robes.  Her name is Ilaces, and though she does look like she wants to kill me, I think it’s really just the way she’s used to looking at underclassman.  Either way, she takes pity on me and helps me find my way to the care center.

Apparently it’s on the first floor of the tower, and the door is actually pretty close to the stairs.  It’s a big open space with thick, colorful carpets laid down on top of a shiny wooden floor. There are colorful toys laid out around the room.  It’s reminiscent of a child’s playroom, not at all the dreary place I thought it would be.

Some people have already left their familiars here.  There are only a few, but almost all of them are cuddled up on one of the carpets taking a nap together, except one sleeping against the wall.

It doesn’t seem so bad.  Blue might actually make some friends here, be at ease in the presence of others of his kind. At least he won’t have to deal with the political incident I’ve created.  I briefly entertain the thought of emigrating to another country, but I wouldn’t be able to move all my plants with me. Best case scenario, I find an abroad program this semester and hope to the Stars that no-one recognises me next semester.  But that’s probably going too far… and the applications are already closed.

There’s a bored attendant who’s flipping through a textbook sitting at the front desk of the care center.

“Yes, Sir?”

I try to pull off a charming smile as I wander up to the desk.  I don’t want any trouble. If she’s the person I’m leaving Blue with every other day, I want her to at least think we’re nice.

“Hey! It’s my first day here and I just wanted to come and see the care center. I have a few classes that won’t allow my familiar, so they sent me here.”

She smiles back at me politely and starts pulling some paper out from under the desk.

“Yes, well, we’ve got a ton of new folks coming in today getting their papers signed.  What kind of accommodations are you looking for?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and hope to the Stars that this doesn’t sound as dumb as it does in my head.

“Sorry, I actually didn’t know that the care center was a thing, so if you could be just a bit more specific.”

“Oh, of course.  We offer a lot of different accommodations here. We’ll do boarding if you ever want them staying overnight, we have kennels in the back, and tether-free or free roam in this room. If you request it we can even provide grooming services.  Is your familiar crate trained?”

“That’s, umm…” I have a momentary heart attack when I turn around and Blue is not next to me.  It’s only a second of panic as I realize I can feel him right behind me, pressed almost close enough to touch. He’s probably just stressed.

A little part of me warms at the thought of him coming to me when he wants a safe place to hide.

“Yes, Master.  I’m crate trained,” he mumbles into my back. Despite what he’s said I have to suppress the wide smile that threatens to plaster itself on my face.  Stars, Blue’s just being too adorable.

But, back to the matter at hand.

“Yeah, he’s crate trained, but I’d really like him to be out here with these guys.  Just, free roam, ok?”

The attendant has taken notice of the form shielded behind me, but I think she’s trying to be tactful and not say anything.  She does twist a bit trying to see behind me though.

“Alright.  Will you require feeding services?  There are a bunch of different plans that you can just look over here…” She pulls up a specific form and circles a set of boxes with descriptions under them.

Just reading over the selections my gut instinct is to allow the care center to feed Blue and give them blanket permissions, but my pen halts above the box.  They won’t be feeding Blue actual food. When they say food they mean that weird kibble or nasty paste.

“Is there any way… Sorry, I just have a particular feeding plan for my familiar.  Is there any way that I can just send him with a box of food from home? Would that be alright?”

“Well… I think it should be alright.  Just put down that he’s on meal restriction with instruction. It means that he’s not allowed to eat here without special permission, but it doesn’t actually apply to anything you give him to bring in.”

I feel like an ass checking that box, but I know I’ll feed Blue better than this facility ever will.  It doesn’t help the feeling that I’m being a dick.

“Anything else?”

“Just the health forms.”

I hand over the new file from our last clinic run along with the whole of Blue’s file.  I don’t really know what she needs, but I’d rather be excessively thorough than be missing something.

Unfortunately, even my careful planning seems to not be enough.  

“You’re just missing an in date GYT form.  Don’t worry, you can get that done just about anywhere.  We even have a few places that are associated with the school and can probably get it done before tomorrow if you need it.”

She hands me a flier from her desk for a nearby veterinary clinic.  I thank her for her time and promise to return tomorrow with the proper forms.  It would help if I knew what a GYT form actually was, but I suppose I can just ask the veterinarian.

I say farewell to the attendant and fold up the flier she’s given me for the vet before stuffing it in my bag.   We’ll just have to pop in after class.

The hallway is clear.  I guess here is as good a place as any.

“What did you think, Blue?  Did you like that place?”

Every time I ask that I get a little nervous.  Blue sees things a lot different than I do. There are different threats in his world.  I’m doing my best to see this world from his perspective, but even my imagination has its limits.

“It, um- the care center seemed very nice.  Master.”

He’s hesitant, but I’m not quite sure why.

“You only have to be in there for the classes that won’t let you sit with me.  I’m sure you’ll love the break from me, especially with all the studying I’m going to be doing.  I get a bit cranky when I’m cooped up inside all the time.”

I try for a smile, but all Blue does is twirl his fingers together and keep his head down.  Not that I blame him, my humor’s been pretty lacking recently.

“Blue.” I hook my fingers under his chin and force him to look up at me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what a GYT form is, Master.  I want to be good, but I don’t really know how--”

“Blue, I don’t know exactly what a GYT form is either.  Trust me, whatever it is, we are going to be fine. Ok? I’ll take care of it, I just need you to trust me.”

He mumbles something I can’t quite hear, but before I can ask he seems to have already moved on.

“I’m sorry for what happened in Potions class, and all the talk earlier in the day.” He looks ashamed, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what he means.

“Blue, nothing that happened in Potions was your fault.  You picked a good seat, so good that other people wanted it too.  There’s nothing wrong with that, ok? You haven’t done a single thing that’s bad today, and you certainly haven’t been talking, though I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

He does his best to pull away and I get the idea. I let go of his chin and he doesn’t move any further away.

“Not… not me talking, Master.  I meant… well, didn’t you hear the students?”

I can’t help shaking my head before I even find my voice.  I hadn’t stopped to hear anything my classmates were saying.

“They… They were— I’m not a good familiar.  I… I know you don’t know that, but I do. And so do the other students. I was… they were talking behind you, but I could hear them.” The words tumble out of Blue like a waterfall.

“I… What?”

Blue’s eyes are different when he looks up at me of his own volition.  They aren’t mad, anger would be too direct an emotion, but I can see the fire of rage, even if it is dampened and softened by the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He’s a few inches from eye contact, but it’s the closest I’ve seen him get on his own.

“I, I’m a pet. I’m not a familiar, I was never from that kind of stock. They… they’re all laughing at you for choosing a whore to be your familiar.  Master, I—”

“Blue!”

He shuts up at that, though I’m not sure it’s a good thing.  I can see the hard line of his jaw where he’s clenching it. His ears are twitchy and I can tell has more he wants to say.  

Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t think I can.

I grab Blue by the tunic and start walking.  We need to have a conversation, and it’s not going to be out in the open like this.  

The pointing and the giggling from class takes on a darker connotation.  They weren’t pointing and staring at me, the new kid. They were picking out Blue.  In this crowd of familiars it is pretty unique for him to be a part of the weak constitution class.  I just didn’t realize that people would care.

The Wand Craft room doesn’t have anyone in it, and it has the added benefit of being our next class. Blue goes to his knees and starts to ramble the second I’ve shut the door.

“Master, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I upset you, I won’t do that again.  Really, I- I didn’t mean to offend you. Master? I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I just wanted to let you know—”

“Blue, I’m not angry at you.”

There’s a moment of silence as Blue draws an incomprehensible pattern into the floorboards with the pad of his finger.

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Oh Blue, I’m plenty mad.  It’s just at the Stars damned classmates of mine.”

“But… They haven’t done anything wrong…”

I’m ready to go throttle some of these peers of mine.  As it is, I find myself standing over Blue wondering if it would be better to try and shake some sense into him or scream until he gets it.  I bite down on the inside of my cheek instead. He wouldn’t benefit from that, I’d just end up scaring him.

“Oh, and I suppose you have?”

“I, I… shouldn’t be here. You should have picked a better familiar, one that could get you the respect of your peers instead of derision. I…”

I don’t like the wobble in his voice.  He’s crying again, but he’s not looking at me.  I don’t know how this got so out of hand.

I need to set this straight.

“You are the one I chose.  Are you saying I made the wrong choice?”

There’s a choked noise from Blue that might be the beginnings of a protest.  There’s a bit of mumbling again, though this time I’m rather certain he’s concerned that he offended me.  I don’t stop to address it. The whole thing was a bit below the belt but we’re too far down this road for me to care about that. I let myself settle on the floor beside him and continue speaking.

“Blue, nothing they are saying is your fault.  It doesn’t reflect badly on you. It reflects badly on the people who had you before. Ok? It doesn’t matter what my classmates are saying anyway.  I’m proud to have you as my familiar. I don’t think I could have a better one.”

Blue’s hands are shaking as he leans his whole body closer, not quite touching yet, just held there in a silent question.

“Oh, come here.” I try to make it as warm as possible, pulling him those last few inches onto me.  Blue squirms a little bit, seemingly dissatisfied that there is any space between us, before he settles down on my chest, hands tangle in the fabric of my tunic, and legs tangling up with mine.  He heaves a few shuddering breaths with his eyes firmly shut and it’s ok that that’s all we do for a while.

The bell rings and people start filtering into the classroom.  My hand’s tangled in Blue’s hair scratching away while he’s leaning against my leg, purring just low enough so that only I can hear.  It’s good to feel the vibration in his chest. The sated warm feeling that tells me he’s feeling good.

I don’t care if the rest of the class is looking strangely at us.  

Apparently, the Wand Craft’s professor doesn’t like familiars in the classroom, but will put up with them if they are well behaved.

I hold my breath and wait for the bell to ring.  After this comes my last two classes, Familiar Training and Advanced Casting.  I doubt I’m going to like this. My only consolation is that this is orientation day.  At least we won’t be doing anything too intense right off the bat.

I wish that thought was more comforting than it is.

They are both in the same classroom at least, we only have to climb the stairs once today.  I suppose it’s because the same teacher is holding both classes.

The top floor of the tower is a lot more intimidating that it was from the outside.  Lights filter in from the tinted glass ceiling onto the massive casting circle printed into the middle of the room.  Chairs are arranged in a half circle on risers to one side of the room, sort of like auditorium seats.

Ryuki Burg is a whole other level of intimidating.  

He cuts an unsettling figure.  As skinny as he is, he’s incredibly tall.  He wears perfectly tailored robes done up in red and black in the traditional robes of a blood mage, and rather obsessively groomed facial hair.  He has a zenzi cub at his side. I only recognize the species because of Shauna.

I’m unprepared when he tells us that we’ll be doing short command drills with our familiars today. Or rather, I’m unprepared when he starts with me.

Everyone’s quiet and just watching.  And I have no idea what to do. What the hell does he mean? Command drills?  What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

Blue follows me up to where Professor Burg’s told us to stand and I have to press my hands to my sides to keep them from shaking.  Stars, this is a nightmare.

“Um…”

“Anytime you’re ready.”  I can feel the smirk in his voice.  I didn’t think he chose me on accident, but now there’s certainty in my mind.  

Command drills… The only thing my mind comes up with is the time the clerk at the general store had Blue do a bunch of tricks for a treat.

“Sit.”

Blue complies immediately. He’s showing attentiveness and making sure his posture is perfect, but he makes it look incredibly natural.

“Down.”

He slides onto the floor with a grace that I didn’t know anyone could have in that position.

“Um, speak?”

“Stars above, are you going to have him roll over and present?  These are not the commands of a familiar, step down before you let him make any more of a fool of you.  I can’t believe you let him act like this in class.” Professor Burg crosses the room in an unnatural number of strides and towers over me.

My heart is caught in my throat.

“Y-yes, sir.”

I can feel my ears burning, but I motion for Blue to follow me and we head back to our seat.  I should have known what to say. I really shouldn’t have neglected the readings on familiars.

“That is, unless you’d like to earn back something on this assignment.” The professor’s voice is like cold steel.  I can feel the knife sliding into my back.

“What?”

There weren’t supposed to be any assignments today, this wasn’t even in the syllabus.

“Punish your familiar in front of the class and I’ll give you back your participation grade for the day.”

Chapter Text

Kara

“Punish Blue in front of the class and I’ll give you back your participation grade for the day.”

My mouth goes dry and I’m sure my heart stops for a second.

He can’t be serious, right? He’s insane.  I’m not going to hurt Blue so this sadistic prick can feel like he’s done something for his class.

“I’m not going to punish Blue in front of the class!”

“And why not?  This is a class about training familiars.  One of the most important aspects of this is learning how to punish a familiar properly.”

The professor sighs as he takes his time walking over to me from his place at his desk.  I can’t help but feel his predatory glare digging into my back. The look I’m getting from the class doesn’t exactly inspire confidence either.  Everyone is silent, waiting for the killing blow. Idly I note that Shauna actually is part of our class.

I thought we were in different sections.

There’s a part of my brain that’s giddy already with the rush of adrenaline.

When he speaks again I swear he’s right behind me, looming over me like a vulture, though I’m sure that would be seen as overkill.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to participate in the activities of the class.  I can just mark the assignment incomplete… though, that’s the same as failing. There’s really no other assignments between now and the exam in a month, so that would drag down your grade quite significantly. And forgive me, but I really do think that your scholarship would not tolerate more than two weeks with a class ranking under a C-grade.  Am I correct?”

I hear the snickering from our audience, my classmates.  

Stars, I was hoping no one would find out.  At least not before I’d gotten the chance to make a good impression first.

The clack of his polished shoes fills the air and it doesn’t help my nerves any when he actually comes into view.  It’s no better to see this enemy, he’s not any less dangerous when I can see him. He moves past me, looking down to where Blue’s crouched on all fours.

“It would be a shame if our scholarship student got kicked out for something so stupid.”

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.

He’s right, though, what would that prove?  All the way back in Capital City for the schooling I’ve had my sights set on for years, scholarship and all, and I’m out on my ass before the semester even really begins?  I’ve been here less than a day, and I’m already in danger.

I came here for a reason.

I bought Blue for a reason.  

He’s fulfilling a requirement.  He’s supposed to be the same as the books and components I need for my other courses.   He’s supposed to be something I use…

Stars, the thought makes me sick.

I’ll be kicked out if I don’t keep my grades where they need to be, but that doesn’t change how much I want to smack the man in front of me.

“Master.”  Blue’s voice is quiet, but the students are being so reverentially silent you could hear a pin drop. “I’m sorry, Master. I know that my conduct was unacceptable.  Please, punish me as you see fit.”

Something cold settles in my chest.  Blue’s kneeling down. He’s said those words so many times before, but they hadn’t really meant anything.  Nothing beyond anything someone terribly scared and confused could mean. I don’t like what’s happening here.  Everything’s gotten out of control. He hasn’t done anything wrong. It was my fault, I didn’t know how to instruct him.  

None of what’s happened today is his fault.

“Hmm, at least he knows how to ask for it properly.  Well, Kara?”

“Please, Master.”

It’s Blue that does it. He raises his eyes, careful not to let the professor see, but he meets my eyes.  He’s not trembling, he’s not on the edge of tears. I’ve never seen him more sure of anything.

He’ll be okay.  We just need to put on a little scene so we won’t be targets anymore.  We just need to play our parts.

“Alright Professor, I just wasn’t quite sure if this was something that was allowed in class.”

“Excellent, go on now.” He takes a seat with the students as though I’m about to do a presentation.  A smirk settles over his lips, and it feels like we’ve just been thrown to the wolves.

“Show me that you know what you’re doing, Kara.”

I am genuinely surprised that he can’t hear the sound of my teeth grinding from the effort of continuing to smile at this madman.

“Of course, sir.  May I borrow your desk?”

“Oh, yes.  There are some fun things on the top drawer if you need anything.  Jewel, help him.”

His Zenzi cub rises disturbingly robotically and opens the top three drawers of the desk, revealing a truly impressive collection of disciplinary items.  

The cub doesn’t meet my eyes.  The poor thing’s hands are shaking, but they fold their hands together in front of their body in a demure little gesture before returning to kneel by the professor.

I take my time examining what’s available  before picking up a slim cane. For all that this collection is trying to prove, it will do a better job intimidating new students than intimidating their familiars.  I know for a fact that this is a new set. No signs of wear on the gloss, and all the leather is freshly stained, showing no signs of washing and re-treatment.

If these were his personal tools, they would be much more heavily used, just going by the reaction of his familiar.

“Oh, Kara, that is an impressive choice.  Yes, you’ll exceed in this field. You’re already earning extra credit.”

I choose to ignore his words in favor of a few test swings of the cane.  Perhaps to the rest of the class it just seems like I’m in deep thought, taking the compliment from my professor to heart.  The cane is less disappointing. It’s light, it’ll sting, but there will be no lasting damage. It’s the best I can do in this scenario.

“I want you bent over the desk.” My voice comes out flat, but I’m just glad at this point that it didn’t crack.  I hope our audience thinks it’s just because I’m mad.

Blue moves without any additional coercion, though I am stunned when he pulls up his tunic to his waist and pulls his pants down to his knees.  I don’t want to do this against his skin.

I don’t want to do this at all.

I’m halfway to his trousers, fully intent on pulling them back up when I realize that the action goes against the image of the angry owner I’ve been playing. In any other situation, I’d risk it, but here we are being watched.  We’re being combed over for any flaws and weaknesses, so I settle for changing the direction of my hand. I brush Blue’s skin casually, just above the bundled up cloth at his knees and settle my hand on his leg and start a slow slide upwards with the goal of pulling Blue’s shirt up just a little higher.

He lets out a squeaky little mew and a full body shudder that makes our audience giggle.  Stars above, I want to do more than smack my classmates now.

It’s distracting, not just for me, but for Blue as well.  He lifts his head off the desk and squirms a bit, before I let my hand thread into his hair and give him gentle press down into the table.  I need him to focus. It won’t do him any good to think about our audience more than he has to.

Blue lets out a little squeak of pain and for a moment I wonder if I was too rough before I realize that he’s trying to make it sound like I’ve shoved him into the desk.

It’s all I can do to smirk and disguise an affectionate hair tousle for a hard press into the desk.

“Ten strikes for what you’ve done, Blue.”  I suppress the automatic reflex to ask him if that’s ok.  If he needs a break, or if the scene isn’t working for him anymore.  This isn’t his choice. He can’t say no.

“I want you to count.  You’re allowed to make noise.”

“Only ten?  That’s quite generous of you.” I’m really starting to hate this professor’s voice.  Every time he opens his mouth I want to punch him.

I smile.

“I don’t want to waste any more of the class time with a more thorough discipline session.  Trust me, Blue will be getting the rest of what he needs once we get home.”

Yes, he’ll get some soothing gel and a thorough cuddling.  And a nice long talk about how we’re never doing this again, or we’re at least going to make a plan together for if we ever have to.

I don’t like the way my professor’s watching us.  I wouldn’t put it past him to force this kind of stuff on us again.

I know what I’m doing, and apparently so does Blue.  My strikes come down even and precise, nowhere near anything dangerous and sticking to the safer places to hit, low on his ass- avoiding tail and hips, and the fleshier bits of his thighs.  Blue, for his part, calls out the number obediently. He doesn’t let out much sound beyond that, despite my permission. It’s over before anything has a chance to go wrong.

“Ten, thank you for my punishment, Master,” Blue says in the same sweet voice he always has, and I want to throw up. But it’s over now and we are done.

There are raised red welts striping up and down Blue’s thighs and I know it has to sting, but Blue just pulls his pants up as though it doesn’t.

“That was very good Kara, I will be honest.  I wasn’t expecting such a practiced hand. I’m sorry for the insinuation.”

I don’t want to see his face, but I look him in the eyes and thank him.  His smile is sickening.

“If I could.”  He gestures over to Blue who’s already settling on his hands and knees beside me.  I can’t blame him, sitting won’t be comfortable for a bit. As it turns out theprofessor wasn’t asking, because he just goes right on ahead and helps himself, pulling Blue up onto his feet.  I didn’t give him permission to touch my familiar, but apparently he doesn’t think he needs it.

He pulls up Blue’s tunic again and his slim fingers dance at the waistband.  He seems to be looking at Blue’s stomach, though I can’t imagine why. He takes Blue’s chin in his hand and Blue deftly avoids eye contact, but docilely goes along with his motions.

“Huh, that is fascinating.  Terribly sorry, I must have been mistaken.”

His hands come off Blue and he’s allowed to go back to his knees.

“Mistaken about what?” I can’t help but ask.

“Well, my cousin had one like that, pretty eyes too.  Except he wrote out exactly what its use was on that one.”

Ice settles in my veins and I don’t hear another word spoken for the rest of class.  Blue’s scars, those horrible words cut into his body. That was this man’s cousin. The man who did that, who scarred Blue physically and mentally is related to the man I’m supposed to take instruction from.  Instruction on how to treat Blue!

Blue must have been responsible for getting me back to my chair.  I’m deaf and blind to the world. People move around me, but everything's muffled like we’re underwater.   My classmates go up in front of the class and do their presentations, but I can’t for the life of my focus enough to even hear what they’re saying.  

Shauna slides into the seat next to me after her turn.  She doesn’t say anything, just sits close and I thank the stars for her presence.  She’s content to sit in silence for once. It’s grounding in a way I didn’t think I’d be needing today.  

Andé seems fine, unbothered by the turn of events. Content to just kneel in silence at his mistress’ side.

It’s the bell that pulls me out of my stupor.

Shauna’s in a different section of Casting and I move to the back of the class once she leaves.  The next class comes in, though several people stay in their seats. It seems I’ll have the joy of having Genevive in my casting class.  I try to contain a groan and just pray she doesn’t see me.

We’re in the same room, with the same teacher for the next class.  Our professor doesn’t seem to feel the need to do any random syllabus changes here, though I do see him glance over to my corner more than he should during class.  

There is no greater blessing than the bell.

The second class is over I’m tugging Blue along.  He hasn’t said a word to me since last period. Then again, he hasn’t had much opportunity to use his voice.  He seems calm enough, he’s keeping his eyes down and keeps in step with me. I just can’t help but feel that something irreparable has changed between us.

We have to talk.  We need to work this out.  We need to… Stars, we need to go to the vet.  I had almost forgotten in all the excitement.

People are flooding the halls, upperclassmen and graduate students trying to attract attention with fliers and tables espousing their manifesto.  Stars above, I don’t have the will to wade through a club fair.

Blue and I weave through the people, staying just courteous enough not to be scorned before we make it out of the main gates.

There are plenty of carriages ready and waiting to leave; must have been ready for the first day of  school. I give the driver the address and pull Blue inside.

It’s the first moment that we’ve been truly alone since break, but it feels like it’s been years.

The carriage lurches into movement before Blue has a chance to settle on the ground and he crashes into my knees.

“I’m sorry…” I start, but Blue’s already got his speech prepared.

“I apologize, Master. I...” Blue and I stumble over each other for a few moments.

It isn’t until then that I actually look at Blue, see the reason why he wasn’t holding the little bar that’s supposed to help you not trip.  His hands are full. He’s got at least two dozen colorful fliers from all those booths we passed. It seems those scavengers passed their stuff to the people who can’t just shake them off.  His blush goes all the way down his neck as he holds out the papers for me. I tuck them in my bag for later.

“Blue,” I pat my lap invitingly, “I want you to lay down on the seat.  Ok? Can you do that for me?” My smile is tense and I know I’m not the perfect picture of meticulously maintained sanity, but I can’t let Blue sit on the floor right now.  I just can’t.

Blue hesitates a moment, rocking with the movement of the carriage before kneeling up on the seat next to me, trying to find a way to lie on me that seems entirely respectful, I assume.  I put my hand on his back and let him topple over onto my lap.

“Master?”

“I…”  I don’t know what to say.  My tongue is tied in knots along with my mind. “I just want to pet you, ok?  We’ll be at the vet soon and we can get the last of our paperwork squared away. Then we can go home.”

He’s silent for a moment, hopefully absorbing what I’m saying.  My hand just barely gets into his hair before he speaks again.

“I really am sorry… I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Blue, nothing that happened in that classroom was your fault.  If anything it was mine, for not reading up on the proper positions.  Stars, it’s that professor’s fault anyway. This was nowhere on the syllabus, otherwise I swear I would have prepared you for it.”

Blue nods against my leg and I run my hands through his hair.

“You—you really weren’t going to do it, were you?”

“I — Blue, I’m still not convinced that I should have.”

“D-don’t say that! Master, if you hadn’t, the professor would have… It would have been bad, and the students would talk… Really, it’s better that you did.”

I don’t know what to say to that.  I keep my hand running in Blue’s hair, but I can feel that it’s not as relaxing as I was hoping for.  Blue’s going tense like a bowstring.

“Blue, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for what I did to you, and if it’s in the Stars, I hope we never have to do that again.”

“Master… you were very kind in my punishment, not many others in your situation would have been so considerate.”

“I hurt you, for no other reason than to save my grade.”

He’s quiet for a stretch and just lets me pet him behind the ears.

“Many have done a lot worse for… less noble goals”

And Stars if that doesn’t just hurt.  I’m the lesser of the evils. I only hurt him when I have a reason.

“Blue…”

Words fail me, but Blue takes the opportunity to nuzzle into my leg.

“You didn’t even hurt me too bad.  Master, many have used the cane without knowing how.”

Stars, and here he is trying to make me feel better.

“Blue, I don’t know anything about familiars, and I know you say you don’t either, but you still know a hell of a lot more than me.”

I have his attention.  His ear is flicking and I can feel him about to claim I’m wrong, so I just keep going.

“You know how you’re supposed to act and I don’t.  I don’t even know the basic rules for pets. I… I can deal with the people, but we need to work together if we are ever going to make it through this.  Ok? I have a lot to learn from you.”

“I’m doubtful you could learn anything useful from me, Master.”

“Well, we will just have to disagree then.”

I can feel the heat from Blue’s face on my pant leg.  My smile is an involuntary reaction. I provide a good scritching in retribution.  The purring brings some peace to the carriage, as though it really is just the two of us.  As though that’s all I’ll ever have to worry about.

It’s a nice thought.

Chapter Text

Blue

Master moves on some instinct away from the teacher and into one of the seats. I follow, docile as I can, trying not to show the immense worry that’s flooded my mind. It’s not just the teacher, who had set me on edge since class started. I’m worried about my Master. He’s not all there, he’s not seeing what’s in front of him, he’s not reacting to much of anything. If it weren’t such a breach of conduct I might just climb up into his lap and test the theory.

I banish the thought as soon as it comes. That’s the attention grabbing move of a pet, not a familiar.

My face burns in renewed shame. I should have known the positions weren’t the same. I should have been able to cobble together the pieces, even in my pathetic mind. I’d been following Andé’s lead all morning during the orientation speeches. His kneel was different from the one I was used to, his was correct here.

I watch all the other pairs go up as closely as I can without being overt. There are a few different calls, but for the most part the words are the same. Master had done it right.

Sit, down, roll, fetch

They are all acceptable commands in the drill, but they mean different things than I am used to.

Sit is much more formal, it’s not a stance that invites play, it’s more like the ‘wait’ stance I’ve been taught, but with arms at the sides. Down is rigid, more like the position ‘table’ than my belly down stance.

The beginning is the same two or three simple stances, but some of the mages use different commands, showing off different sets of poses they’ve trained their familiars in, or more elaborate motions or calls to show off their training.

A couple of them trip up, not as badly as me, but the same offer is extended to them.
Punishment in order to make up for their botched participation. Not many of the masters wield their weapons as well as mine. Some of the masters overestimate their ability to control their tools, or perhaps they don’t care, and there’s blood. But even those are better than the ones who do seem to know what they’re doing. The ones who pick their weapons and go until the teacher stops them.

I shift just a bit on my knees, feeling the unpleasant sting of my new marks against the cloth.
For some reason there is a part of me that’s genuinely happy. I finally did it. Master punished me. It wasn't more than I could handle. It was pretty lenient given the circumstances. Now I know what to expect. I know that my Master knows how to use his training tools, and that even when he wields them he’s merciful.

The marks aren’t that bad considering the damage a cane can do, and he didn’t overlap the strikes. He made sure there would be no chance my skin would tear and bleed. At most they’ll be raised and red for a day.

Master would not be cruel or careless. It’s not in his nature.

The pain is familiar, even if the restraint isn’t. It puts my mind at ease. The world Master put me in, so full of unimaginable kindnesses, hadn’t been making sense for a long time. Master punished me for doing badly. The world is making sense again.

He doesn’t punish with fire in his eyes. He seems calculating.

The only thing I don’t know how to interpret is the brevity. Ten strokes can’t be all, considering I’ve embarrassed him in front of his peers. He said there would be more to come once class is done. I don’t know if he means after this class or once we go back to his house.

As far as I know, there’s just the one discipline tool in his home, and it’ll be a long session if that’s the only tool he uses. Then again, he might try something else, something that he can’t show his classmates. I wonder if my analysis is completely wrong. If the calm and calculated punishment I’ve received is just the act that Master uses in public. He could be hiding his anger, providing only the barest corrective measures calmly in public. It is possible, but I dismiss it as unlikely. Master wouldn’t be so careful with his strokes if that wasn’t something he strived for. Besides, what do I gain from the worry that he’s feigning a different style punishment in public? After all, the last time Master said he would carry out a punishment later he gave me my collar and plushy.

The inside of my wrist is streaked pink from my scratching before I realize what I’m doing.
A quick glance at Master shows that he’s still not really there. At least he’s not seeing my shameful display of nerves. I fold my hands in my lap and squeeze them together in an effort not to scratch anymore.

Shauna comes over after Andé’s turned his tricks. He didn’t have any issues, even as he settles beside Shauna his back is straight and his stance is perfect. I can barely see him breathing. Shauna’s as quiet as her familiar, and neither seems interested in starting a conversation. I want to ask why they came over here, I want to thank Shauna for the use of her cosmetics, Stars, I’d settle for a grunt from Andé. The silence feels caustic and the longer it goes on the more I’m sure it’s going to swallow me whole.

The bell rings and Shauna moves away, taking Andé with her, and Master moves us to the back of the classroom. I can’t help but feel that it’s my fault. He’s moving to the outskirts of the teacher’s view because of me. I wish I could be better.

Master’s paying better attention now, but I can see he’s still distracted. I wish I was a trained study companion, that knew how to write and read so that I could take notes for my Master. As it is I settle for paying close attention and remembering what I can. Today’s class is fairly basic, covering the proper drawing of casting circles and the different fields of magic that require different runes and symbols be included. Most of the jargon goes entirely over my head and I’m left feeling even more stupid than when I started.

The bell rings and Master pulls me out of the classroom with all the other students. The flood of people is less than ideal.

I hear a deep sigh from Master. I want to ask what’s wrong, but I see the problem before I have the chance to figure out an acceptable way of phrasing my question. Rows and rows of tables are set out to line the hall on the way to the front gate. Students are calling out excitedly for the attention of the passing first years, waving colorful parchment with printed words scrawled across them.

Master sets a brisk pace, but smiles kindly at all the people, sparing them a few words and a wave of his hand as he pushes forward.

I graciously accept the fliers in his stead and try to keep pace. Master hasn’t taken up my leash and I feel a little sick to my stomach that he’s walking without it. As though he’s not worried about losing me. Maybe he is the type to hold a grudge and punish with isolation.

By the time we reach the outer gates I’m red in the face and have far too many papers for these school organizations. But carrying my Master’s things is the one thing I’ve actually been able to do for him today so I straighten the pages as much as I can and follow him to the line of carriages. He’s already given the driver directions and gotten in before I can catch up. I didn’t even get to hold the door for him.

Master’s inside rubbing a hand over his face and trying to breathe deeply. He’s stressed by the day’s events and up to this point I’ve been of no help. I need to be better.

Entering the carriage, I have a plan. I’ll kneel and be sweet and present the papers I’ve collected on Master’s behalf as though they are something of importance. I want to take his mind off the day he’s just had.

Unfortunately, my plans are thwarted by the stuttering movements of the carriage and my own lack of balance. Even my apology fails as Master and I start talking over one another. My face is on fire and it is all I can do to stiffly hold out the colorful collection of papers for him to take.

The offer to lie down is unexpected, and thoroughly unearned, but Master’s voice is so tired and earnest that it’s hard to question.

Being allowed up on the seat should feel like a treat, but it just makes me uneasy. What does Master want with me up here? This is a bad angle if he wants to use me, I would have been better off staying on the floor. But Master has other uses for me and hasn’t shown any desire to use me as I’m accustomed to. If this is all just a ploy to punish me it’s wildly unnecessary. Master has plenty of reason to punish me. He doesn’t need more excuses.

Apparently, I take too long trying to figure out the method to my Master’s madness and he just tips me over into his lap.

“Master?” There’s no way that happened accidentally. I’m where my Master wants me, but that doesn’t mean I know why.

“I…I just want to pet you, ok? We’ll at the vet soon and we can get the last of our paperwork squared away. Then we can go home.”

I had forgotten about the vet. It’s not my idea of a good time, but it does mean that we will be able to go home once it’s over. Master’s voice is so tired and quiet that I feel bad about questioning him. He’s had a long day.

Once we get this paperwork squared away, when Master needs me out of the classroom I’ll get to stay in the Care Center. It’s nicer than I thought it would be. Apparently, familiars are awarded quite bit of comfort. It’s probably more about respecting their owners by showing respect to their property, but I don’t mind. Not when I get to reap such nice benefits.

“I really am sorry…” And I mean it with all my heart. I wanted this day to go without any problems and I’ve done nothing all day but cause trouble. Now Master is tired and probably more than a little bit stressed.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” It’s a pitiful apology, but it’s all I have to offer.

“Blue, nothing that happened in that classroom was your fault. If anything it was mine, for not reading up on the proper positions. Stars, it’s that professor’s fault anyway. This was nowhere on the syllabus, otherwise I swear I would have prepared you for it.”

I believe him. He wouldn’t have sent me in there without telling me what I was going to face. That’s the game of a much crueler person. Still, there’s something a lot more worrying in what he’s said.

“You—you really weren’t going to do it, were you?” I don’t know what half-mad instinct makes me speak, but I stop almost as soon as I’ve begun. It’s ridiculous. Absolutely insane, of course Master was going to punish me. Not only did I fail him class, but I embarrassed him in front of his peers and his teacher. And the professor all but ordered him to do it. Of course he was going to punish me. My pleading had nothing to do with it, aside from being the exact words I was supposed to say in that situation.

“I— Blue, I’m still not convinced that I should have.” Master sounds exasperated, as though he’s beating a long dead point. If it were anyone else I might be afraid that the anger might fall on me for having brought the point up.

My heart stutters for a second and I feel cold.

“D-don’t say that!” Stars above, it is so wrong I don’t even know where to start. He can’t be thinking this way. It’s wrong. It’s so very wrong that my chest hurts with the force of it. Even putting aside the fact that he thinks that I’ve done nothing wrong, he still endangered his reputation by even considering withholding punishment.

“Master, if you hadn’t, the professor would have…” My stomach rolls at the thought of that man, the smell of blood and metal giving away his dangerous core before he ever spoke a word to the class.

“It would have been bad, and the students would talk… Really, it’s better that you did.” He could have ruined himself, his reputation and all chances at social standing because of me. The whole stable world I’d been balanced on since my punishment is crumbling underneath me and I have no clue what to expect.

“I hurt you, for no other reason than to save my grade.” It’s the closest to a whine I’ve heard from this Master and I’m stunned into silence.

I hadn’t thought this would affect him so strongly. He’s used me as a familiar is meant to be used. There’s nothing wrong with what he’s done. He didn’t hurt me half as bad as the others in his class hurt their familiars in the same situation. None of my other Masters would have felt such remorse after a punishment.

“Many have done a lot worse for… less noble goals.”

I don’t like thinking of many of my previous Masters, but it is true. Punishments are commonplace, necessary if I’m going to learn or atone for mistakes. There were a few that punished me for their own amusement, to satisfy some desire. They didn’t show half as much restraint as this Master.

“Blue…”

I don’t like the guilt I hear in his voice. He’s been so kind to me, I don’t want him to feel bad. I nuzzle into his lap and interrupt whatever he’s about to say.

“You didn’t even hurt me too bad. Master, many have used the cane without knowing how.”

The caning was almost easy to bear. He didn’t do anywhere near the amount of damage a cane is capable of, and he even stayed away from bad places to hit.

He’s not convinced, even I can tell that, but his hand in my hair hasn’t gone painful from my breach of conduct, so I count it as a win.

“Blue, I don’t know anything about familiars, and I know you say you don’t either, but you still know a hell of a lot more than me. You know how you’re supposed to act and I don’t. I don’t even know the basic rules for pets. I… I can deal with the people, but we need to work together if we are ever going to make it through this. Ok? I have a lot to learn from you.” He sounds like he has a plan.

I don’t quite know where he’s going with this, but I don’t want him to get his hopes up. I’m not a great familiar, that won’t change just because he’s determined.

“I’m doubtful you could learn anything useful from me, Master.” I hedge carefully. I don’t want him to think I’m being rude or contending his point. I’ll help him as much as I can. It’s all that I can do, but I know that my help probably won’t be worth too much.

“Well, we will just have to disagree.” Master sounds so utterly sure that’s really difficult to argue. It’s just like before. He sees worth and importance in me that I don’t. I want to be worthy of the confidence he has in me. I want to be good.

I duck my head against his thigh to hide the growing redness in my face. Since when has it been so easy to make me blush?

Master scratches in a good spot and I purr loudly in retribution.

I hope whatever plan Master is cooking up works. I want to keep these tender moments, these good memories.

I want to stay with him.

Chapter Text

Blue

The veterinary clinic the carriage stops at is a nice building.  Plenty of windows, and painted up a solid shade of white. There are some box hedges that probably used to be animals, but have since been left to grow back into unimaginative shapes.  It’s not the worst place I’ve been. At least it seems pretty clean. Master seems to share my hesitation as he simply observes the building with me for a few seconds.

“What do you think, Blue?”

I don’t really know what to say to that.  The place seems nice, but looks are deceiving.  I’m uneasy, but that’s not something that could be helped.  I don’t know what I’m here for, so I don’t know how to prepare myself.  There won’t be a general examination, I already have one on file and it’s rare that it would be repeated within a year.

“Come on, Blue.  Let’s go and get this over with,” Master says, waving me over as he heads to the door.  I don’t know what possesses me, but I can’t hold in the nervous energy.

“Master, I’m scared.”

The admission comes without prompting and suddenly I’m cold all over.  The comfortable petting from the carriage seems like such a faraway dream now.  My Master has no reason to pet me, I’m acting like an entitled little brat who doesn’t know his place.  

I feel the sting of tears in my eyes, but I close them before anything can come of it.  Saying it out loud makes it so much worse, so much more real. Makes it all the more clear how powerless I am against it.

I am afraid of this place, scared of what awaits me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

All I see of Master is his shoes turning back around.

“I know you’re nervous, but we have to do this.  I promise I’ll stay with you the whole time. You’ll have nothing to worry about, Blue.  Tell me if it gets to be too much and I’ll get them to stop, alright?”

I’m nodding along with his words.  It’s a kinder promise than I ever thought I’d receive.  This Master just might mean it, too. He’s always kept his word, even when it really doesn’t matter.  Even when it’s just to me. This is something that we need to do. We have to just get through this and then we can go home.

The insides of the building match the well maintained exterior.  The majority of the floor tiles are white with individual colored tiles sprinkled into the mix.  It seems to be an attempt to make the interior a bit more cheerful and bright, but it falls quite a bit short.  At least the place seems clean enough. There are even a few other people in the waiting room flipping through insubstantial periodicals.  Their pets sit on the floor next to them. Some masters talk soothingly to them, allowing them close enough to rest their head on their lap, while others maintain a silent distance.  There’s a pet in the corner struggling to get under their master’s seat, curling in on themselves. A smaller child is trying to coax them out while their parent seems thoroughly bored by the spectacle, choosing to sit and read while their kid tries to play.

I pull closer to Master.  I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a visit to the vet.  The atmosphere always leaves me feeling a bit sick inside.  Master doesn’t see any of it, or if he does he doesn’t say anything, and just walks right up to the counter with the smiling attendant.

“Hello sir, how may I help you today?” The tone is overly bright but doesn’t appear forced.

“Hey there, I needed a GYT form.” Master’s voice is friendly, but straight and to the point.  He doesn’t want to linger here any more than I do.

“A GYT form? Oh, yes, forgot they changed the name for the academic files.  You’re a student?” she says, pulling together a number of papers from across her desk.

“Yeah… new student at the academia.  Um, if you don’t mind my asking, what’s a GYT form?  I’m sorry if it sounds like a stupid question, I’ve just never heard of that before.”

“Oh, it’s just a standard test panel for STIs.  You know, just trying to keep these frisky little critters clean and safe.  They call it something else for academic files, trying to make it sound more official, I guess, but that’s what it is.” She hands a completed pile of papers to my Master on a clipboard with instructions to fill them out and wait for them to call the number at the top of the page, but I’ve tuned out.

An STI panel.  That’s not too bad. I haven’t had one in five or so years, but I’m fairly certain that it’s nothing more than a few uncomfortable swabs and a wait.  I used to have to get new ones every sale to make sure I was clean, high enough quality to do my duties, though the last few years it hasn’t been as much of a priority.  Something about the tests costing more than I’d sell for with updated papers. If there was ever any tell of disease they would have sent me in for a test. Thank the Stars it never came to that.  I’ve stayed clean, and out of danger.

Master leads me away from the desk and finds a chair against the back wall by a stretch of carpet and a pile of periodicals.  Their covers, once vibrant displays of colored inks and shiny finish, are dull and a little scuffed. There may be a handful of recent ones in the pile, but it doesn’t seem like this establishment throws away their old copies.  There’s no-one in this corner. Plenty of room to kneel by my Master’s feet, and I take advantage of that as best I can. I set about practicing the new ‘sit’ pose I learned in class, trying to focus on anything other than the papers Master’s filling out and the never-ending cost I keep adding to him.

He hasn’t even used me for anything worthwhile, though the current testing does make me realize that’s probably for the best.  He probably wanted to make sure I was clean and suitable before he went any further with me. It makes sense in a way. He didn’t know anything about pets before he got me, so he probably didn’t know there was a way to screen me for diseases.

I’m scratching over my wrist and I know I should stop before Master sees me, or worse, someone else sees and chastises Master for my behavior.  I can’t help the nerves though, and settle for making the motions as unobtrusive as possible.

My masters have always been pretty selective.  If they were willing to share me it was with guests they invited or friends they loaned me out to.  There’s really nowhere that I could have picked up an STI from, unless one of their friends had neglected to share. But even then, I would have developed outward symptoms by now, I spent at least two months with the…

Oh Stars in the brightest, highest lengths of the worlds above, the guards from the market.  They hadn’t had any problem sampling product from the lower dregs. The market guards weren’t the most refined batch.  They didn’t care for safety in the moment, nor did they seem to be particularly concerned with who they rolled around with at night.  Even still, it’s unlikely that I could have contracted something from them. I would have seen or felt something by now, right?

I feel ice settle in my veins.  I’d be worse than useless with a disease.  Stars, if I managed to endanger my Master I would hope for the mercy of being put down quickly.

“Blue? Are you ok?” His voice sounds far away.

“Yes, Master,” I answer with an even tone.  There’s a prickling feeling at my eyes and I know that if I blink, tears are going to roll.  I keep my gaze fixed on the tile, trying to wordlessly fight off the hysteria. If I’ve contracted something, then I’m dangerous.  Dangerous pets are not kept around. I have no value or skill to hold my Master’s interest while he retrains me to be what he wants.  I’ll never get the chance to be a good familiar.

“Blue, you’re lying to me.” His voice is a whisper but the words are no less threatening.

“N-no, Master.  I’d never—”

“Blue! You’re bleeding!”

I feel the slickness on my fingers, the echoing wetness on my wrist, but it takes a moment for my mind to put the two thoughts together.  Sure enough, when I look down to check my eyes confirm the statement. Red is dripping from the agitated lines at my wrist. There’s a twinge of pain when I pull my hands apart, almost as though it’s a punishment for acknowledging the wound.

“I— I, um…” No words are springing to mind so I just sputter uselessly, trying to come up with an answer for my Master.

“Give me your hands, let me see.”  The order is quiet, gentler than I deserve.  It’s the same tone Master used when he asked for my feet to apply salve.  This should be safe. I’m ashamed at how easily the thought comes. Even if it is for punishment, I can’t bring myself to deny this man.

I give him my hands.

He fiddles with his satchel a few moments and produces a white cotton handkerchief, pressing it firmly to the wound before I can protest.  

A part of me is in awe.  He didn’t even hesitate. My blood will surely ruin the cloth, but Master deems me more worthy than the piece of fabric.  

My face is hot and I make sure that when Master next looks up my eyes are on his shoes, the angle hopefully enough to disguise the color in my face.

“Blue, I want you to keep pressure on your wrist.  I know it hurts to press on it, but we just want to stop the bleeding, ok? Once you stop bleeding I can fix the wound.”

I nod along slowly and press the fabric into my wrist with perhaps a bit too much force.   The twinge of pain is easily buried underneath the balm of following instruction. The orders Master gives are few and far between.  It will not do to be seen slacking.

“Alright Blue, I filled out what was on your sheet but I need some help with some of these questions, ok?” His eyes are on the pages again and I pull myself back into a presentable kneel before answering.

“Yes, Master.”

“Have you ever had one of these tests before?” His intonation makes it clear that he’s reading off the words on the page, though his body language does betray interest in my answer.

“Yes, Master.  Though it was several years ago.”  Honesty is not only important for accuracy, I want to give Master all the answers that he seems interested in.

“Have you been sexually active in the last six months?”  The pen scratches across the page, filling in my answer, presumably.  He doesn’t look up when he reads the question off. I assume it’s simple formality, perhaps an exercise in making me use my voice.

“Yes, Master.”

“The last year?”  He seems a little strained.

“Yes, Master…” I wonder why he’s repeating obvious questions.

“The last five?” Master’s body is tense like his voice.

“…Yes, Master.” It’s becoming increasingly clear that the answers I am giving are not the ones that my Master wants to hear.  But lying is equally bad. There is no winning here.

“Um, did you… before that?”

I nod, seemingly having lost the ability to speak.  I don’t want Master to be mad. I can only hope he sees this as experience, not just a long list detailing how used I am.

“Did—um,” he’s looking back down at the list of questions, “did you use or have access to any protection during intercourse?”

My face goes a whole mess of red at that.  Stars above, just thinking about the penalty for bringing such a thing up with a Master who might see value in you burns, I can’t imagine trying to bring it up with the market guards.

“No, um… well, I…” Stars, this Master likes verbal responses, I’m not doing any good stuttering and stumbling over my words.  When did using words become so hard? “I can’t… I’m not allowed to ask, but if they want they can do whatever they’d like.”

I try to make my answer as neutral as possible but I still recognize the slight hitch in my Master’s breathing, the way he grips the papers he’s reading.  He’s mad, and I’m screwed.

“They… what?” I can tell he’s trying to hold himself back.  It’s probably because we’re in

public.

It’s difficult not to roll over, offer myself, anything in order to quell his anger.  I settle for the least overt tactic and shuffle forward just a bit on my knees. I don’t have the confidence to touch his leg so I let my head touch the floor resting the tips of my fingers on his shoes.

“Please, Master, don’t be angry.  I’m very grateful. I know it could be a lot worse.”

How did it get to this point? I swear earlier today we were happy.  Master was praising me, petting me, telling me that he was proud to have me as a familiar, quelling any doubt and fear in my mind.  He was good and kind and perfect, and what had I done? I’d gotten him in trouble with his teacher and reminded the whole of the class that he’d picked a whore instead of something proper.

“Blue, no… It’s not… I’m not angry.” The exasperated lilt to his voice tells a different story and I keep my head down.  I’m proud of the relatively small jerk I make when his hands stroke through my hair.

He’s trying to calm me down.  He’s not mad, or at least he doesn’t want to be mad here in the waiting room with a good ten or so others sitting around.  I believe that, I don’t really have the option not to.

“You’re doing very well, Blue.  You’ve been doing well all day, you even bore a punishment that you didn’t deserve.  We’ll have to talk once we get back home about all the rewards I owe you.” He speaks like he’s just making conversation, just talking about the heat of the suns or the clouds, but the whole of my world shifts.  

What is he talking about?  Rewards?

He thinks my behavior is good? Worthy of praise and perhaps more?

“Master, nothing I’ve done today warrants such—”

“I don’t think so.  You’ve done quite a lot today.You were a very good familiar.  You handled everything with grace and dignity. You even helped me make a more convincing scene in class, not to mention helping me collect all the fliers from the fair today when I definitely would have forgotten or lost them on my own.   And that’s not even mentioning one of the most amazing things you’ve done for me today.”

My head tilts to the side and Master’s hand slides under my chin,  tilting my head up. I’m too consumed in my own thoughts to even process the rules I’m breaking looking at his face.  But it’s just that gentle, sincere smile, no ugly sneer telling me I was stupid enough to fall for his words. He means what he’s saying, and his eyes are looking me over and I wonder if he can see the way his words are affecting me, the way his praise squeezes my chest and makes it so hard and yet so easy to breathe.

“Wh-what would that be, Master?”

“You told me you were scared.” He lets it sink in and I’m thankful for the moment to process.

“You told me when it all got to be too much.  You trusted me, and that deserves quite a bit more than just a simple reward.”

I press my lips together to stifle my elated sob.  I managed to do something right. Master is very pleased with me.

The moment is over much too soon as someone on the opposite side of the room calls out a number and Master lets me know that they’re calling for us.

The table is metal and cold, but I get up when prompted without any resistance.  There’s no crinkly paper like there had been at the clinic and I can’t help but feel relieved.  The substance had set my already fried nerves on edge, but even in my relatively calm state I don’t like the thought of causing a disturbance for those around me.

Many more questions are traded back and forth as the vet looks over my file.  Master handles most of them with quick answers, though some of them are directed at me.  I feel oddly proud when Master tells the man that I don’t need restraints. The preliminaries don’t take very long and soon we get down to the uncomfortable swabbing before I figure out that either the tests have changed or I am not remembering them correctly.  

The vet comes at me with a big syringe, needle protruding ominously.  

I jump gracelessly at the appearance of the needle, and no matter how much I tell myself that I should just settle down and take it, I just can’t bring myself to sit and offer my arm.

I look over to the seat in the corner of the examination room where Master has been a mostly quiet observer.  I don’t expect help, but the need to confirm his presence is overwhelming.

“You really should get your familiar under control.  I know you protested the restraints in the beginning, but will you reconsider for this last bit?”  The vet has been cool and quiet this whole exam, but the words bite into me.

I can do this.  It’s just one stupid needle.

Master’s takes only a moment before coming to stand at my side.

“You don’t need to restrain him.  He’s just never been a fan of needles.  I’ve got this.” He smiles at the vet before turning his attention to me.

“Blue.”  He drapes one arm around my shoulders and I shudder and lean close, shamelessly stealing his warmth. “I want you to look at me and bite down really hard if you hurt, ok?”

He puts his hand in front of my mouth, making it painfully obvious what he intends for me to do.  I can only stare ahead at his offered hand. I open my mouth to protest, but he just slots his finger in between my teeth and nods for the doctor to proceed.

I feel distantly that my arm is taken and manipulated next to me, but the only thing that I can focus on is the warmth of my Master’s arm around me, his comforting scent, his offering in my mouth.  I bite down just a little when the needle slides in, more out of habit that anything, but Master makes no noise, no affronted cry. He intended for me to take his words seriously and bite down. He’s smiling, even, as though he’s happy I’ve actually taken him up on his offer.

“We will have your results in a few minutes.  I’ll make sure the receptionist gets you a signed copy that you can use for your school records.”  The vet rambles on, but I could care less. I’m still marveling at the care Master has shown for me.

We are led back outside into the waiting room and I rest my head on Master’s lap.

My test comes back clean.

Chapter Text

Blue

I follow Master, three steps behind, and there is plenty of slack in the leash. I don’t know where he’s taking me, but he’s very excited. He’s told me that he’s taking me for a surprise before we go home.  Surprises aren’t traditionally good, but with the giddiness in Master’s step I can’t imagine it’s something bad. I don’t really have a choice anyway so I just follow.

He’s in such a good mood, I don’t think that I’m in any danger.

We are both in a good mood.  The vet was nowhere near as disastrous as the doctor and I can’t help but feel relieved.  Since we got back from the doctor, Master has yet to so much as sleep in the same bed with me. Now that he knows I’m clean, I hope that will change.  I don’t like being alone, no matter how safe it is. It sets me on edge, but I know that this Master, kind and generous as he is, would never take to training me that way.  It takes a lot of time and resources to isolation train a pet, and you would need quite a lot of personnel. In any case, he wouldn’t have left me with all his things, his books and trinkets, a window, his luxurious bed, if that were his goal.

When I next look up, we are in a more crowded area of the city and I duck my head away from the sight and carefully observe all the shoes as they go past.  I need to focus. Master has set me to a task. I need to find something to request. The rewards Master spoke of were not a joke, and he wants me to use one of the rewards tonight.  Supposedly I have five, five rewards that I can use whenever I want. I can invoke one of these and request anything from my Master, within reason, and Master will do his best to give it to me.

Within reason…

I don’t even know how to begin decoding that.  Nothing about this is reasonable. Master expecting me to ask for things is outside of reason in and of itself.  I try to wrap my head around the concept. Many masters have had methods of earning things, extra things if you were good, but those treats were usually decided beforehand.  Extra food, blankets, new clothes, in some cases a bigger personal cage. It’s not unusual, but no one’s ever offered a chance to ask for something.

I don’t want to mess this up.

I don’t want Master to think I’m taking advantage of this kindness, but at the same time I know that this is a chance I really can’t take for granted.  Which brings me back to the original problem. I have no idea what to ask for.

Master provides so much food that I don’t have to ask for more… I’m actually worried about what he would do if I came to him asking for more.  I still haven’t managed to finish one of his plates. I sleep in his bed, so I don’t need extra blankets or pillows. He’s gotten me clothes, and he’s promised to take me to the market this weekend for clothes that will fit better.  And despite everything the other pets say, I haven’t felt safe or at ease in a personal cage since my fifth master. The closed space doesn’t allow me to calm down and stop overthinking things, it just makes me panic.

Master hasn’t given me any hints as to what he wants me to ask for.  I’m on my own for this.

We stop at pretty building with wide plane windows and a stenciled set of letters in reflective gold paint.  It seems nice. Inside there’s a few tables and a little counter with someone behind it. Not quite a restaurant, too casual, maybe a cafe?  Master opens the door and I follow him in.

Inside it smells like sugar and some other earthy smell.  

There aren’t many people in here, and those that are don’t raise an eyebrow at seeing me walking in with my Master.  I breathe a sigh of relief.

We go straight up to the counter and I can’t help the way I stare at the animate gargoyle who seems to be playing chef.  It’s mixing a bowl of batter with a set of little baking cups at the ready. The movements are too varied for it to be an automata, but I’ve never seen someone animate such a complex structure with such fine movements.

“How can I help you, ser— Oh Stars that’s cute!” The attendant speaks and it takes me a second to realize I’ve gotten a little too close to the dividing plane of glass, nearly pressing my nose to the surface.  My ears droop and my face heats, but apparently the lady just finds it more adorable. Master does too, if his giggle is anything to go by, and I’d really like to crawl under one of those tables until we are done here.

He recovers enough to make his request.

“Can I grab a box of your raspberry jam cookies?

“Of course.” The lady smiles brightly and picks up a pretty little paper box, covering the bottom in parchment.   “You actually going to eat them this time?”

“Um... what?” Master seems confused, as am I.

“Calming drought in your pepper and three books, a week or so ago, right? You had time to go through three books, but not enough to take one little sip of your drink.”

“Look,”  he sneaks a glance down at her name tag, “Symphony, I …I had a lot on my mind. I’m sorry if I offended you, I just… came in for some cookies…”

“No need, I’m just messing with you. Your business is your own, I just happen to be nosy.”  She hands over the box without any further fuss. “And nobody actually calls me Symphony. Symph’s just fine.”

Master tries and fails to make a casual grin at her remark.  There’s too many teeth. He’s nervous. He pays and we leave almost before she can get another word in, which I believe was my Master’s intention as he slumps against a wall once we are safely out of view of the shop.

“Master, are you alri—“

“I’m fine.” It comes out harsh and I flinch back a bit, but he immediately pulls back his tone.

“I’m… I’m fine. Sorry, Blue, I’m not… I’m sorry if I scared you.  Are you ready to go home?”

I nod emphatically. As amazing as it was to walk around outside all day, it’s been rather draining.  Master seems to agree, pulling out a familiar piece of paper from inside his satchel.

There’s only a light, rolling nauseous feeling this time, and I easily push it down.  I’m stronger than I was when we first warped together. A bolt of pride shoots through me at that.  It seems Master has the same thoughts as he settles a steadying hand on my back and gives me a quick once over to see if I’m about to become violently ill.  I give him the best smile I can manage, hoping to distract him from my previous failures.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Master’s voice is concerned, but not annoyed.  He’s treating me like spun glass, walking me over to a chair in the kitchen and sitting me down before moving to put water in the kettle.

“Yes, Master.  I’m fine, I —I don’t feel sick.”  It warms my heart that he’s concerned, but I’m not sure how long this kind of reaction will last.  I need to get better as soon as possible.

“Well, that’s good.  You’re probably feeling a little more steady too, yeah?  Stars, I remember the first time I tried to use a warp totem.”  His eyes are shining, and I haven’t seen him smile like that all day.  I want to share that memory, whatever’s got him so bright faced.

“Wh-what, what happened?”  It’s an impudent question. It’s not something I need to know, nor do I really have the right to ask, but I want to know.  

“Oh, well…” Master lets out a laugh and I have to fight an ever-growing grin on my face.  His smile is infectious. “The totem I was trying to use was one of my own. I hadn’t made one before, and thought I knew what I was doing.  So I expected a rush of wind, not a complete molecular rearrangement. So I materialize and I’m ready to throw up already, but I hadn’t quite mastered all of the… runes, so I drop from the second floor, outside onto my eldest brother’s sparring match.  Which would have been fine, but then I barf all over his friend’s shoes. Stars, he wouldn’t talk to me for a month after that.”

Master’s dissolved into another fit of giggles and I can’t quite hold back a chuckle of my own.  I’m having a hard time reconciling my image of Master with the younger, reckless version of herself.  I wonder what happened to make him so careful.

“Your brother, Master?”  The giggling stops and he regards me with wary eyes. Immediately I backpedal. “I’m sorry, It’s just… I didn’t know you had family.”

It sounds so stupid out loud that I want to hit myself for my idiocy.  Of course the man has family, he didn’t just appear out of the ether fully formed and compassionate enough to take in a pet he shouldn’t have.  I wonder if his parents are still alive.

“No, no need to be sorry, I— I haven’t talked about them in… Stars, years.”

“I’m sorry to bring up bad memories, or—“ I’m scrambling to find the proper apology, but he cuts me off again.

“No, the memories are good, it’s just been awhile…”

I have nothing but silence as a response to that.  I don’t know what I could say, even if I found the words.

Master slides the box from the cafe in my direction.

“This is good, we should have a little talk.  I got the cookies for you. You can eat some now, just save room for dinner, ok?”

I nod along and open the box.  Raspberry jam cookies, the sweet berry we both favor.  It’s his own preference as well, so I shouldn’t be this affected that he’s remembered how much I like them, but he hasn’t made a move to grab one.  These are for me, these are a special treat. The cookie is buttery and sweet, falling apart at the slightest insistence of my teeth, and the jam tastes like every day of sunshine required for growing the fruit itself.  I offer one to Master. Mouth still full of my own, I have to settle for gesturing wildly for his attention.

“So, I take it you like them.”

I blush a wild shade of red and settle for swallowing before I try to speak.

“Master! They are so good, you have to try one!”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Blue, but those are all yours.  You handled so much today I wanted to make sure you got something nice.”  Master smiles at me and as much as I want to insist he try one of these amazing cookies, I know he can go out and get some any time he likes.  This is a reward. I shouldn’t squander it.

“Blue, what’s your favorite food?”  The question takes me off guard. I don’t know what he wants me to say to that.  Hesitantly, I raise the hand that still has the cookie in it.

“I meant actual food, though if you like those cookies so much, I suppose I can make some of those as well.”

“Um, I really like everything that you’ve made so far.” It’s true, but it’s also a stall.  I have no idea what he wants me to say.

“That does wonders for my ego, Blue, but is there something that you liked in particular? I’ll make anything you want tonight, my apology for making you miss out on the lunch period.”

I bite my lip and try to hold in the whine that threatens to slip out.  I don’t know what he wants from me, I don’t know what answer will please him.  He showed no preference in the dishes he made for me, so I really don’t—

“Blue, stop that!” His voice startles me out of my train of thought, my brain flashing full of warnings that my Master is angry at me now.  I don’t know what I’ve done in such a small amount of time to make his mood sour. We were having such fun earlier. he even laughed.

He pulls both of my wrists away from my body and I realize belatedly that my fingers had twisted underneath my collar.  Even the soft leather rubs uncomfortably on the raw patches of skin left in the wake of my nails. Master lifts the collar up and check the reddened area, tsk -ing  before he reaches for the buckle.

I let out a pitiful whine when he finishes unlatching the collar and pulls it away.  I want to tell him I’m sorry, I want to make it up to him, I want to prove that I deserve it.   He’s taking my collar away and as much as I know I shouldn’t think of it as mine, I can’t help it.  I can’t help the shame of him knowing I don’t deserve it. I wonder if he’ll consider letting me have it back as one of the rewards he’s promised me.  I like this collar, even though I’ve only had it for a little bit.

“Hey, hey, we’re just going to leave this off tonight so I can put some cream on you.  You’ll get it back, ok? I just don’t want it rubbing on your neck,” Master soothes in a gentle voice, pulling me into his arms.

 Stars, my mind feels like it’s nothing but frayed pieces.  The reassurance is simple, but I want to trust it. Some part of me is certain that I can trust him.  He’ll give it back, he’s not abandoning me or telling me that I’m not good enough to be his.

“Why do you do this?  You did this back at the vet too.  Is it something new? Is it the soap I use for the laundry that’s making you itchy?” His voice is soft, but worried as he runs a careful finger over the red on my neck.  I wish it was something so innocent. Then I could blame it on the soap and the behavior would fix itself.

“N-no, it’s… um, I get…nervous, and I don’t really… notice that I’m doing it a lot of the time.”  I’ve never really talked about this with a master before. I don’t know how he’ll react to my failings.  I’m not malfunctioning. I’ve met pets that are pushed that far, but I’m not there yet. I’m not that bad.  

Master lets go of my wrists and I fold my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking.  I can’t be that bad, pets that get that bad aren’t useful anymore.

“You were hurting yourself.  That’s serious, Blue, you have to tell me about stuff like that.” I understand what he means.  I should have told him in the beginning about all the things that were broken inside me. But there was so much, and he took care of so many of the things that were hurting, I didn’t want to bother him with more.  I wanted him to believe I was good. But I shouldn’t have kept it to myself, I don’t have the right to hide this from my Master.

“I won’t damage your property anymore, I swear.” I say it so quietly that I’m worried he won’t hear.

“No, Blue, I don’t…” He lets out a big huff and I wonder if he’d hit me for asking for my collar right now. I’ve made him mad, but I feel unstable without it.

“Blue, I just don’t want you to be hurt, ok?” His fingers are slick and cold and I realize the gentle touching earlier may have been a spell.   

“If you’re feeling really nervous and you want to hurt yourself, you have to tell me so I can help.  Hell, if you just feel nervous, thirsty, scared, or hungry I want you to tell me, or find a way to bring it to my attention. Can you do that for me?”  His voice stays low as he spreads the cream over my neck. His careful motions are soothing, but my mind is elsewhere.

He wants me to bother him about my trivial emotional state.  I can’t imagine anything less deserving of his time. Then again, he told me I deserve a reward for telling him when I was scared.

Maybe he just really wants to know.

My head hurts and I just nod. I can do that.  I’ll tell him what he wants until he gets tired of hearing it.  I don’t want to be annoying, but it is an order.

“Good, that’s perfect.” I feel the praise roll over me like a balm.  The words probably don’t mean anything to him, but to me they are priceless.

“Do me a favor, how about you take my bag upstairs and splash a little water on your face while I start up dinner. I’ll make you a special surprise, and we can figure out what your favorite thing is together.  How does that sound?”

“That sounds amazing, Master.”   Thank you for your generosity. I want to say more, but I know that my words will never be enough to convey the magnitude of what I feel.

The stairs are getting easier every day. My Master’s healing is incredible.  

The bedroom is as I’ve left it, except for the box at the foot of the bed.  I’ve never seen it before, and Master hasn’t been up here yet, so it couldn’t have been him. It’s none too small, but it’s easy enough to lift.  There’s fresh packaging tape wound around the box and I wonder if Master had forgotten it on the way out this morning. There’s a richly colored seal at the top before the swirling characters of the writing.  It’s probably important.

I take it back downstairs with me.

When I get down to the kitchen, Master has a couple of pans warming on the stovetop and there’s a heavenly smell in the air.

“Master! You, um.. you have a package.” I hold the box up a little higher, trying to catch his attention.

“What?” He sounds incredibly confused, and I understand why.  I don’t know of any courier service that will deliver inside your house.

“I found this in the bedroom,” I clarify.  I don’t want him thinking that I’ve taken to sneaking out the door or checking that it’s locked.  He abandons his pans and comes closer to the box.

“Huh, who could it be fr…” Master’s eyes widen as he looks over the seal and name on the box.   He goes pale, and I wish I knew what to say to help him the way he helps me. I recognize the panic in his eyes.  Fear, and then suddenly, anger.

“How the hell did he—” He rips the box out of my hands and I just back away.  If just this name can make Master so cross, I have no way of knowing that it won’t transfer over to me.  I settle behind the kitchen island and kneel. Out of sight, out of mind… I hope.

I didn’t know this would be such a big deal.  I didn’t know Master would become so angry, hell, I didn’t know he was capable of such anger.  He’s always been so gentle with me, I figured he simply was incapable of being any other way. There’s a loud ripping sound and I can’t help the way I overlay my screaming onto it.  He’s ripping into the box for now, but what if he’s still angry later? It’s better to hit something that’ll react. That’s what master Ilam told me.

“Oh, thank the stars...” Master’s talking to himself, but he doesn’t sound as angry anymore.  In fact, he sounds like all of the anger has drained out of him in a few seconds.

 That’s not how it works. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not brave enough to peek my head out and look.  Maybe Master will calm down and we can just have our little dinner together and everything will be fine… Yeah, right.

“Blue?” His voice startles me.  He’s standing over me, probably wondering what I’m doing on my knees all the way on the other side of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll bring you up something to eat.  I… have to take care of this, ok?”

I nod as I’m scrambling away.  I’ll gladly give him all the time and space to cool down that he wants.  

The bedroom isn’t any different than how I left it, though my mind is.  I wonder what it was that triggered Master’s anger, who it was that got such a reaction when all my failings hadn’t gotten so much as a slap.  I don’t know much about my Master, only that he doesn’t have servants, likes to cook, and works with his hands more than any other master of mine.

Though now I suppose I know my Master has at least one older brother.  It doesn’t sound like much, but it is more than I’ve known about some.

I spend what feels like hours cooking up more and more elaborate situations.  Who could have sent my Master that package? What’s inside? Master probably won’t want to talk about it, so I’ll probably never know for sure.  It’s all I can do to keep my mind from going to a dark place.

He’s probably working out all of his anger now.  There won’t be enough left for me. Still, he’s been gone a rather long time… I wonder if he’s forgotten me for the night.

He doesn’t have a real reason to come check up on me.  He hasn’t been sleeping in this room with me for a while.

I don’t want to be alone again.

I practice the new positions I’ve learned today, trying to ingrain the new stances in my mind.  I wipe off the big desk, fluff the pillows, even change into night clothes, but none of the rote, mindless work helps me calm down.  

I need to be useful, and none of the small things that I’m doing come close to earning my keep.  I really only have one skill I’ve been trained in. I use what time I have left to prepare myself.  I need to change our relationship if I want to guarantee a place in my Master’s home. I have a clean bill of health, and he doesn’t have any other excuse not to use me.  I need to stop being a drain on his resources. I need to pull my own weight. I can start by giving him an outlet for his frustration tonight. I can make it good.

When Master comes in, I’m ready.  He’s got a bowl of nice hearty soup for me, and apologies for being late.  He promises he’ll make better things over the next few days, that we will find my favorites together.  I smile and nod along with his words. They are nice, but I have a goal. I know what I need to do. He’s quiet while I eat, and I try not to feel awkward.

When he takes the bowl from me, he gives my ear a scratch and breaks his self-imposed silence.

“We’ve had a long day, yeah, Blue? Have you given any thought to what reward you want?”

I smile up at him.  I couldn’t have planned this better.

The bed is soft and inviting, and my night clothes don’t quite fit me right.  It’s no trouble to let the wide neck slide off one shoulder. I let my eyes rise to his chest, and my lips part just a little bit.

“May… May I have a kiss?”

Chapter Text

Kara

“You… want a kiss?”

All I can do is repeat what Blue’s just said. It must sound incredibly dumb, but for the moment I just don’t care.  

There’s no mistaking what he’s asked me for.  Blue’s pose doesn’t change. He’s still looking up at me with those too wide eyes, his whole body loose-limbed and submissive.  The wide neck of the sleep shirt he’s been borrowing from my closet is stretched to reveal far too much of his pale skin.  

He’s not asking for a kiss.  He’s practically an illustration from a raunchy novel, something to signal to the readers “if you’re not ready for this skip 10 pages and rejoin us at plot”.  His eyes dip low for a half second and I’m tempted to move and cover myself.

There’s a bit of tension in Blue’s body, but I’m at least relieved that his eyes come back up to my chest.  I want to ask what the hell is going on. I want to ask where he got it in his mind that we were doing anything like this.  I want to know what made him think that our relationship was going to change. Was it something I said? Something I did that made him think I wanted this?  All I talked about since coming up here was promising to find Blue’s favorite food and apologizing for taking so long.

Before I can even find the words, Blue’s beat me to it.  There’s still an undeniable tension in his shoulders, but the rest of his body moves with the grace of a dancer.  He levers himself up onto his knees and from where he is on the bed, he’s almost level with me.

His eyes come up to my chin and I’d almost call it a new record if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“Master…” Blue’s biting his lip, playing coy before setting tentative hands on my shoulders.

“Blue, I—” I try to interrupt, but Blue doesn’t yield.  He pulls me closer and I almost trip. I steady myself at the edge of the bed, refusing to topple over onto him.

“Please, Master, I understand if I am being too bold with your generous rewards, but…” He leans close and I’m struggling to find my breath, let alone my words.  “I’ll earn it from you. I’ll make it worth your while…”

 Blue’s voice is quiet but there’s an undeniable teasing in his tone.  I can feel the heat of his words down my neck and before I can prepare myself that heat is something else entirely.

Blue’s lips are soft but his tongue is scratchy, and I file that away with all the other useless things in my brain that have absolutely no reason to be there.  It’s filed right next to the belated realization that Blue was never looking as high as my chin. He kept his eyes on the prize.

Blue’s hands work skillfully down the front of my shirt and pull me close.  I have to lever a hand in between our bodies, a task made difficult by Blue’s apparent crusade against the idea that even air should come between us.  I keep pushing at his chest until he has to give up his place at my neck and sit back on the bed.

“Blue…” I try to say this as sweetly as possible.  I don’t want a repeat of my shoving him away in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” 

“I, um… Whatever it is that you want.” Blue’s stutter at the very beginning betrays his confusion, though he does his very best to cover it up with more of the same honey tinted words.  He’s an excellent actor, and I’m a little disappointed that this is an act. It’s the most independent thought and movement that I’ve seen Blue display. Though I suppose I am glad he’s not possessed.

Blue grabs at my arm, but my hand is still planted firmly on his chest, keeping him a solid arms length away.

“I only want to be of some use, and you’ve been terribly stressed lately, r-really I should be doing a better job.”  Blue speaks just loud enough to betray that breathy tone from earlier. He holds my hand in both of his and runs his fingertips lightly over a couple of my more noticeable scars.  I can’t tell if it’s soothing or disturbing. It’s such a glaring intimacy that I’m stunned. That is, until he decides that the touch is not enough and he brings my hand to his lips and starts planting reverent little kisses along my knuckles.

“Master,” the words are delivered in between his kisses, “won’t you let me do my duty and relieve some stress?  You’ve been so kind and generous with me, please allow me to serve you where I have some skill.”

So kind? Stars, is this all over the cookies?

I can think of nothing else he might have seen as out of the ordinary today.  Stars, I don’t know if I can even consider myself kind after the nightmare of a day I’ve given Blue.  I beat him in front of my class and I even didn’t step in when the vet was being a cold insensitive prick with no people skills or appropriate bedside manner.  At least, not until the end when Blue panicked at the sight of the needle. Then again, Blue hadn’t seemed bothered by the vet’s attitude. In fact, he responded like he’d been expecting the treatment.

I’ve done nothing nice for him except for the cookies.  I even left him up here alone for hours while I went through the package and did just about everything around the house that I could to distract myself from its contents.

That is a problem… something that we’re going to have to deal with. I don’t know what Blue saw.  He found the package first, but did he read the name of the sender? It’s doubtful, he must not have even gotten a good look at the seal on it or I’m sure I’d be getting asked a dozen questions instead of propositioned.  For a moment I’m thankful for his blind obedience. Then again, if he weren’t so blindly following his training then I wouldn’t be in my current predicament.

With some difficulty I take back my hand from Blue’s tender ministrations.  The uncomfortable silence that descends is a palpable and unwelcome presence between us.

“Master, please make use of me.” Blue’s voice is a small and shaky thing. It doesn’t hold the seductive tone that his body is still trying to convey.

“Blue, I’m not going to…” Have sex with you, hurt you, fuck you, rape you.  My brain unhelpfully supplies dozens of progressively more crass but no less incorrect words for the end of this promise.  But no matter how true the words are, I just can’t say it. “…do that.” I say instead, settling lamely for the one option that doesn’t make me want to throw up.

There’s a choked bit of laughter that’s too high pitched to be anything good.  The sound is so strangled and wrong that I don’t want it to be Blue. His body’s gone tense and he’s hiding his face behind the dark veil of his hair.  Not that that changes anything, I can’t decipher what he’s thinking about even when he’s actually looking at me.

“Do you find me that disgusting?” 

The strain I hear in his voice is the only thing that holds me back from laughing.  The idea is ridiculous and I have no idea when or how he’s come up with this theory.   I’ve never said anything that could even remotely be mistranslated to that. Not that I ever would.  In my professional opinion, Blue is gorgeous. Even considering the scars and his mountain of health problems, which aren’t much of a factor to me, he’s still beautiful.  He just has such a pure and honest soul. He’s been practically stewed in pain and abuse, covered in the ugliness and bad decisions of others, but he’s still fighting. Every time we chip away at the shroud I can only see more and more light.

I hate the market even more, for having the audacity to think that he was unsellable.

“What? Blue, I don’t…” I try to tell him as much, but he cuts me off.  His voice is so twisted I’m sure if I could see his face there would be tears.

“You don’t even sleep with me anymore.  I’m grateful, I swear to you Master, I know how lucky I am and I am grateful, but…” His voice catches and he stops, pulling his hands into his lap as he starts to shake.

  It takes a moment for me to figure out that he’s probably just realized that he cut me off.  He’s waiting for me to start again, he’s waiting for me to hurt him for speaking.

I’m halfway between laughing, crying, and punching something, but I know that any of the above will hurt Blue.  He was ready to talk to me, something I’ve spent a lot of time encouraging. Any loss of progress now will be hard to make up.  None of this is going to work if he doesn’t talk to me.

“Blue, talk to me.  Tell me what’s wrong.” I set my voice in the soothing, non-threatening register that’s gotten results before, but Blue just shakes his head and intensifies the already white-knuckled grip he has on himself.

“I’m j-just a… a spoilt, disobedient little—”  I can’t let him finish what he’s saying. I never want to hear anything like that again.

“No, no, no, tell me what’s wrong.” I try again, trying to be more specific.  I don’t have it in my heart to make it an order.   

Blue sets his hands on the blanket and scrunches up the fabric under his fingers.  

“You… you only touch me when I’m like this, you soothe m-my fraying conscious, but you never let me d-do anything for you.” Blue can’t control the way his voice hitches as he speaks.  He’s crying and I feel like an ass because I want to reach out and take him into my arms, but I’m not entirely confident he won’t take that as acceptance of his advances. I’m not sure which move would be more disastrous. 

Blue decides for me, concluding that my silence is evidence enough of my anger and disappointment.  “N-not that there is a-anything I can do to earn your generosity, but I, I had hoped that you didn’t find me so distasteful…"

“Why would you think that?” I know it’s the least of my worries right now, but the question is out of my mouth before I’ve even thought it through.

“You thought I was worthy to share your bed when you took me home.  You wasted so much time and effort on me. You made me how you wanted, and you held me like I was worth something.  But when we went to the vet, you… I thought, when the doctor examined me, you were disgusted. You didn’t kick me out, but you never came back to bed.  You came in and talked to me and trust me, Master, I know it’s more than I deserved, but I was so scared. Every night I wanted you to come, I didn’t want to be alone but more than that I wanted to be useful to you.  I’m sorry I tainted your space with my filth, but… I… When we got this test… I thought… well, I thought that you had reconsidered. Now that you knew I was safe and clean, you would use me properly.”

“Blue…” There’s a lot to unpack there, and I really don’t know where to start, but somewhere’s better than nowhere, right? “I don’t find you disgusting and I certainly don’t think you dirty my space.  I’m sorry if I made you think that about yourself. I was just trying to give you space after the whole incident with the doctor. I thought you would want the space.” I thought you wouldn’t want to be vulnerable near another man with such a clear degree of power over you, I thought you would want your space, I thought you hated me for letting that happen to you,  you thought was going to kill you that night. There are a million things that I want to add, but I can see the confusion already blooming across Blue’s face and I know that everything else I want to say will just confuse him more.  I just need to get on with it before this gets any worse.

“ You don’t have to do this.  Really, you don’t. I don’t expect… service from you, that’s…” Stars, I need better words.  “You don’t need to try and earn your keep this way. You don’t need to earn your keep at all.”  

I can see that his confusion hasn’t been assuaged.  If anything there’s something more pained in his eyes that I can’t quite decode before he tucks his chin to his chest.

“I want to make it worth your while.  I want to be useful, Master,” he mumbles to himself, loud enough for me to hear, quiet enough to betray his embarrassment.  He’s using his words carefully. I need him to know that he’s not as transactional as he seems to believe. His life and services aren’t necessary to earn or be worth being kept.  

I’m angry at all these other “masters” who don’t seem to take their title seriously. 

“Let me explain to you what that word means, Blue.” I know I’m letting my anger bleed too heavily into my voice when Blue flinches, his back going ramrod straight.

I close my eyes and count to five.  I can’t be like this, I have to control myself.  When I look back up, Blue’s looking at me, bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. He’s scared. His eyes dip down respectfully as soon as I’m looking, but my fingers slip under his chin and pull his face back up.  I want him looking at me, and once those eyes are on me I feel a little bit better about this. We are more equal this way. At the very least, Blue won’t have to worry that catching my eyes will make me fly into a wild rage.

My thumb comes up and gently pries the reddened lip from between his teeth.  It feels taboo to touch that part of his body at this point, but I shove the nervousness down and get back to what I had been planning to say.

“You call me “master,” but what does that mean?” My voice is even this time, and Blue’s eyes are locked with mine, though he hasn’t stopped shaking.

“Y-you own me.”  The tremble in his voice is back.  He’s scared of me. He doesn’t know the answers to the questions I’m asking and he’s afraid of getting the answer wrong.

“Yes, I own you, but there’s more to it than that. When you call me Master, you are mine.   Do you understand? You are under my care. You are my responsibility. Mine to feed, and protect, and take care of.  You never have to pay me back for that or earn your right to be treated with dignity. It’s my responsibility, no matter what.” I try to make my explanation as thorough as possible, no wiggle room where Blue can invent his own dark outliers.  I don’t want him inventing horrible punishments where there was no failure.

I just need him to understand.  I’m not going to throw him away.  I’m not going to make him grovel and beg and earn his daily needs.  

“B-but, I…” Blue stutters for a moment and his hands go for his shirt.  It’s not the smooth practiced moves from earlier, this is just disjointed movements as he tries to strip. 

“You don’t really want this.”  There’s definitely some desperation in my voice that I’m none too proud of, but I’m fairly certain it’s warranted in this situation.  I grab at Blue’s wrists and pull the material back down as far as I can.

At that Blue breaks.  He sets his eyes on the comforter and I’m pretty sure I’ll be lucky if I ever get him to look at me again.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says it with such conviction, like it’s the one truth he knows in this world.  It breaks my heart.

“That’s not true.  Blue, if nothing else, it matters to me.”  It’s cheesy and stupid, and doesn’t even begin to address the mountain of issues that we will need to work through, but I’m just hoping it’s enough of a stall that I can figure out how to fix the real issue with the time it’ll buy me. 

“I…I just want to make you happy, I want to be good for you.”  Blue’s voice is so utterly genuine, so sweet and guileless that seeing him hunched in on himself on the comforter is doing bad things to my heart.

His request was pretty innocent, even if the idea behind it wasn’t.  Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would get it out of his system, and he’d see that nothing bad would happen after.  The more I try to rationalize it in my head, the more I realize I just can’t look at Blue’s pitiful stance on the bed anymore.

I rustle the fringes of Blue’s bangs, brushing them back.  It gets his attention and he lifts his head, probably confused by the gesture, but I don’t waste the opportunity.  I press my lips gently against his, with just enough pressure for him to know I’m there. It’s soft and chaste and just imperfect enough to make me believe that it really happened.  

I pull away before anything more can happen.

Blue presses his hand to his lips. I can see him almost mimicking the pressure. At the very least, he’s not trembling, and he’s not looking like he’s ready to cry.  I can see pink high on his cheeks, and I’m genuinely glad that the kiss he requested wasn’t solely to try and seduce me. He seems to have enjoyed it himself. Maybe a little too much… He’s moving his lips, but apparently can’t decide on the words, just opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 

“Please, Master… I can do a great deal more, I’m not as fragile as you might think and you’ve given me so much time to heal.” Blue’s voice cracks and his words all come out as a rush, too high pitched.

“Blue, even if we were ready for this, which I am not saying we are, you’re going to need to actually heal.  None of this “good enough” status that you think you’re at. And we are going to have to work out some ground rules.  Absolutely nothing is happening until you really understand what your consent means, and how important it is.”

He seems to recognize the word at least, but it seems to be with all the connotations of what we were talking about the last time it came up.

“I know my place, I would never deny you.” Blue’s as snippy as I’ve ever seen him, all puffed up in his own personal brand of pride.  

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.” I don’t know how to explain to him that consent matters.  I’m not testing him, I just need us to be on equal ground if anything’s going to happen. I’d rather him feel safe than warm my bed, as foreign a concept as that seems to be.

“Y-you…um,” Blue’s cheeks are a mess of red, “you want me to be …badly behaved?” Blue’s studying the pattern on the comforter, but I can still make out the whisper.  “One of my Masters, um, he liked his pets… the term was, um, bratty? Is that what you want?”

I can’t help the way I laugh.  I really can’t, there is nothing in the world that could’ve stopped the wheeze buried in a mountain of chuckles. Stars, right now is not the best time to discuss exactly where our kinks lay.

“Blue, no.  Just, no. I don’t need a brat in my life, you’re perfect just the way you are, you don’t have to play a part… Look, it just isn’t important.” I plan on leaving it at that, but the crushed look on Blue’s face is just too much.

  Damn, I know I’m going to regret this.

“It’s not a forever no,” no matter how much it should be, “it’s just a no for right now.  It isn’t important because you have to focus on getting healthy if you even want to consider this, ok?”

He nods out a dejected affirmative and I’m sure it’s the best I’m going to get tonight.  I’m looking forward to sleep, and desperately regretting the nervous stupor that didn’t even let get a good night’s sleep last night.

“Is there anything you need for the night?”  I can’t tell if my voice is actually shaking from the strain or if it’s just in my head. His water glass is full, but it never hurts to ask, especially after such an intense discussion.

Blue pulls his hands into his lap and twiddles his thumbs, watching intently, like he’s not sure which will come out on top.  Embarrassed, yes. In danger, no. I make the executive decision not to try and tuck Blue in tonight. He can find his own way under the covers, and my presence will probably just make him more nervous.

I let out a relieved sigh.  I don’t think I could have handled much more tonight.

“Alright, Blue, you have your water.  I’ll leave the door open, you know the drill.” The tiredness is bleeding into my voice, but I want to remind Blue that he can call me at any time.  

Something about his nervous fumbling makes me worry.  In any case, that’ll be a problem for tomorrow’s me. I turn to leave, but Blue seems to have other plans.

“P-please don’t leave me.”  His voice is fast and stressed, but most of all I don’t know how to process what he’s saying.  “I-I know I have no right to ask, but— if it pleases you, would you stay with me for the night?”

I just got through explaining why we shouldn’t, but the desperation in his tone makes me hesitate.  I don’t want to get into bed if he’s just going to try and change my mind, but I don’t want to dismiss Blue if he’s bringing up an actual concern. 

“Why?” It sounds so harsh to ask this way, but it is the most direct.

Blue’s hands go down to play with the fabric of the comforter, scrunching up the fabric like it’s a stress ball.

“I-I like it when you hold me.  I know I don’t deserve it, but when you stayed with me that first night… I—it made me.. I, um.  You’re very warm, Master.” Blue rushes to finish the statement off, his ears giving a little twitch under the scrutiny of my gaze.

He’s hiding something from me.  Not well, but he’s trying.

“I’m warm?  Blue, a hot water bottle is warm, would you like one of those?”

“N-no, you…um, I… I like the w-way I feel in your arms…” Blue’s voice is soft, almost like he’s spilling some dark and terrible secret. 

 I fight the urge to smile.  I liked the feeling of Blue in my arms as well.  He fit snugly against me, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been close enough to anyone to have a good cuddle.

“Oh, really?”  I’m teasing now, I know, but the more the blush spreads over Blue’s face the more he squirms in place.  I like the idea that the thought of him in my arms is making him do that, and it is really just too cute for me to resist.

“It… makes me feel safe.”  Blue’s final admission comes a good deal louder than the rest.  And what can I say against that? He just wants to feel safe, everyone deserves that.

The blush tinting Blue’s face hasn’t faded and it’s as if he forced out all his air in the proclamation. Blue shrinks in on himself, that nervous and subdued creature yet again.

“Hey, it’s alright.” I move close and indulge myself in scratching behind Blue’s soft ears, draining the tension out of him.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you’d like.”

Blue plasters himself against me the moment I get into bed, burying his face in my shirt.  He's trembling a bit, but the longer I pet him the more he relaxes into the touch.  It's not long before he's nodding off.  

I wish I could be so lucky.

Chapter Text

Kara

I hold Blue until I’m sure he’s asleep, murmuring little nothings under my breath until he’s gone fully lax in my arms.  With him asleep at least one problem is solved. There is still the issue of the technically illegal package in my basement.

When I first saw the seal on the packaging I almost had a heart attack, but the sender information cleared up most of my concern.  It all looks more official than it really is, and I’m sure it was by that idiot’s design. I want to smack myself for not considering the possibility first.  Of course he would be using the royal seal, he’s a member of the army corps and the package was going through official lines. Idly, I’m rather excited that the new method of tracking and delivery had as much success as it did.  It’s supposedly based off of a line of blood magic, though the resident mages changed so many of the fundamental principles that I don’t think that it should really qualify as the parent field. It’s not precise enough to track the package to the person, especially without the required blood samples, but they must have made some truly revolutionary strides if they were able to send the package to my room based on the “signature of my magic— or whatever” as the inner letter so helpfully supplied.

The box really only held a smaller box insulated for travel and a letter with a copy of the royal seal done up in intimidating size, repeating who this package is meant for and giving orders to destroy the package if it has come into another’s hands, under pain of death.  The formal and honestly, scary tone made me glad that it was my name, over and over again, and my brother’s rushed, but obnoxiously elegant handwriting on the inner box. 

Blue lets out a contented noise and burrows closer to my chest.  I can’t help but smile at the display and run a careful hand through his hair, going over the exact words of the letter in my head again.

        Dearest little brother,

    You mustn’t be mad at me.  You know I wouldn’t break your claim to sanctuary if it wasn’t something of dire importance.  That being said, if you’re reading this that means that the new messenger system we are trying to work with was successful.  Even more incredible because we don’t have any more samples of your blood. The field-mages down here had to make do with the signature of your magic- or whatever.  You were always better at understanding them than I was. The enclosed set of seals and runes inside are tied to my blood signature, so it should be a reliable way of getting your responses to me.  If you got this…

    I wouldn’t be contacting you if we weren’t desperate.  The war in Puaj is going- good would be a stretch, but it’s going.  Magic is so specialized here that we’re having some difficulties fighting the more trained battalions, but we are holding our own against them.  I would never train my forces so sloppily they can’t survive a couple of mages. It’s not the forces that are causing the trouble, that’s the distinction that the officials keep misunderstanding in my reports.  They keep sending me more soldiers, but the issue is the desert. It’s killing them, faster than any enemy forces. They just don’t want to accept that.

    And as if that’s not bad enough, when we take new territories they blight the ground when they run.  All the fringe territories get blighted out of fear, by the time we get there the people are already dying.  It’s senseless, and none of our lovely generals that haven’t stepped foot onto a battlefield in over 50 years seem to see the issue with that.  My soldiers are dying, and it’s really starting to mess with their minds. They don’t want to help civilians anymore and we are a short fuse away from getting ugly.

    I need your help.  As amazing as the new messaging system works as it is, I know you would have figured it out a million times faster.  They are refusing to help me, and the crown isn’t allowing me to make it a publicly funded project, but they can’t stop my from making it a privately funded grant for student work.  You will put all those established magisters to shame with your work anyway.

    We can hold out for a while and the next supplies shipment is right around the corner, but this needs to be done as soon as possible.  You have time, but not much of it. Enclosed in the box you’ll find several soil samples of the blighted land. It’s different in composition from local soils and it’s also a different kind of blighting compared to the Lintora crest near home. It must be a different type of spell, so I doubt any of the public research will be of much help.

    I need you to find a cure for the blight, little brother.  If anyone can do it, it’s you.

    I’ve included my own notes on the baseline land conditions and weather patterns, and the sample with the black lid is a baseline sample of unblighted soil.  There’s a tube with local variety crops that some of the civilians provided too, if that will help. I know I’m asking a lot. In the bag underneath the samples you’ll find the grant money for this project.  It should at least get you started, I have no idea how much or how long this will take, but that’s only because this is absolutely unprecedented. I wish you all the luck in this world, should you accept this task.

    Either way, you should know that sometime in the next four months they are going to publicly announce the loosening of border restrictions on Duran.  The war has been over for years now, I don’t know why the political officials have kept up the pretenses for this long. As you know, this will be followed by several good faith gestures and some new trade deals.  The word is that they’ve already sent one of the princes across the border. The information is a couple of months old, so there’s no real way to know which family is responsible for him at the moment without asking the royal advisors, but you know how common magic is up there.  More than likely they’ve sent him to your dream school.

    Stars, little brother, I don’t even know if you got in.  I don’t know if you’re reading this or if it’s lost to the astral sea.  Please, if you are reading this, respond. You don’t have to take this task, I just want to hear from you.  It’s been too long.

Ps: I’ve included a little treat for you, something I found in the dunes, and it’s brought me immeasurable joy.  Take care of it, will you? You need some kind of companionship. 

        Always yours,

    Jet Ritan~

The “treat” was a little sand elemental, confusedly thumping on the edge of the glass vial that was housing him for transport.  The elemental settled into the workshop nicely, but it doesn’t like to be touched. It slides through my fingers whenever I try to pick it up.  It does seem to like my pencil cup though, it found its way into the thing and wouldn’t leave.

Idly, I’m proud that my brother had to use secret army magic to track me down, though I’m pretty sure the spells could only send, not reveal a location.  There’s enough ant- scrying charms in the yard to occlude the whole neighborhood at any rate. They didn’t find me, the package did.

I still can’t believe what I read.  Over and over, I turn the pieces over slowly in my head.

The package is all only technically illegal because messages over the border are still forbidden under the current arrangement.  At least, non-military messages and shipments. I’m certainly not an official military receiver, but I am technically receiving an order.

I turn the job assignment over in my head.  Find a cure for blight… It’s impossible, just as impossible as it sounds.   The power and devastation of the blight is written into our very scriptures.  It’s the most ancient of curses, the most devastating of magics.

Though, I suppose mages have thrown their lives away chasing stupider pursuits.  And I suppose I have a hard time limit. I can’t work on this my whole life, I have to find something workable before the idiots who make decisions get my brother’s whole division killed.  Finite time limit, high stakes… at least the pay is good.

The coin he’s included is certainly better than any first year grant.  It’ll keep me afloat, well above that actually, even with all my new expenses piling up.

I fall asleep trying to make any case I can against taking the job, even though I know I’ve already made up my mind to try.  I just don’t want to get my hopes up. But even still, I’ve never been able to say no to him.

At least I’ll have an excuse to dive hard into the library resources.

—————

When I wake up, I’m confronted by the undeniable fact that Blue’s quite a snuggle bug.  In the night, he seems to have octopused his limbs around me to the point that I’m pretty sure it’ll be impossible to get free without waking him up.  He does look content at least.

I don’t know how he can stand to be touched by me, let alone get held and cuddled, but I suppose I should have recognized how much he does like to be held.

The second sun is just making its break over the horizon and I know I’ve indulged myself in this for too long.  I’m just glad I don’t have to bother with any of the garden duties today. The Almacs have had enough of my fussing, practically chased me out of my own backyard.  

They’re shedding like mad, though. I’m picking up stray feathers from every corner of the yard.  I’m pretty sure the only way people have managed to collect as much from them as they have is by finding the remnants of nests.  In any case, my morning routine is thrown off.

I settle for scratching behind Blue’s ears until his little half awake croon becomes a more conscious purring.

Blue gives me a wide-eyed, slow blink before burrowing back into my chest with a rumbly purr that I can feel all the way in my chest.  It’s adorable, but we do need to get out of bed.

“Aww, come on sleepy head.  Unfortunately, we have to get up.” My lilting tone must be enough for Blue, he opens his eyes again and lets out a supremely adorable little squeak.

“Yes, Master.” Blue’s voice is scratchy and low from sleep but he carefully unwinds his body from mine, giving me space to sit up.  His eyes are half closed, and as adorable as it is to see him sniffing at my warm spot, we’ve lost enough time already. 

I pick out some clothes for him and send him out of the room.   It’s a lab day for potions, so I don’t bother with anything too complicated.  A nice tunic should be fine, and at least it’ll be comfortable. There’s some stuff I need to get out of my workshop.  We are all supposed to be making a simple healing draught, but that potion takes substitutions and exchanges well, so we’re supposed to bring in our own components and see what we can do.

I’m planning to keep it simple, stick to the recipe for the most part. But Endraden marrow is easy to switch out for Kerry feather.  Almost any feather that has a positive aligner and an amplifying effect would work better. The Kerry feather is creative, and makes a more potent drought, but it’s sometimes a little fickle. Nevertheless, I think it will be something fun to work with.  Hopefully it will at least impress the professor.

I’m not sure what I'll need in the course of my research, but it never hurts to have the favor of a supervisor.

There’s a timid knock at the door and I sweep my eyes across the room.  Blue hasn’t left anything in here.

“Did you need something, Blue?” I speak loud enough for my voice to carry through the door, but hopefully without the tone that he seems to interpret as angry. I’m just about finished folding my sash down, so I don’t mind if he walks in.  Instead, he keeps the door closed, settling for speaking through the door. 

“Um, Master, there’s something… odd in the kitchen.” His voice is quiet like he’s leaning his forehead against the door and whispering through it.  That doesn't make what he’s saying any less concerning. A whole variety of things came into the house last night. Anything from the samples of foreign soil to the untempered magic to the magical creature in my basement, could pose a risk and shuffle all of the safeguards I've had in place.

I open the door with a little more force than necessary.  Blue looks a little concerned, but I don't give myself the time to examine it further.  I run down the stairs ready for fire, a wind wraith, a sentient ficus, but the kitchen is exactly the way I left it last night. Messy for sure, but nothing's dangerously out of place.  There’s no terminal reactions happening here, just the soup and the racks of cookies I was making last night.

Blue’s bell tinkles quietly behind me.  He’s approaching the kitchen slowly, wary of the space and its unfamiliar contents.  I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to will away the giggling in the back of my throat.

“Blue, I… this was me.  You don’t have to worry about this.  I was just really tired last night so i didn't put any of this stuff away.  I was a mess last night, most of the time cooking helps me clear my head, but in extreme scenarios, baking is required.”

Blue looks up at me like I’m crazy, before schooling his features and seeming to file away that information like it has critical importance.

The orange crystal on the counter glows a solid three bursts and I have to hide my head in my hands to try and suppress a groan. That’s Shauna’s crystal, we picked up the echo stones a few weeks after meeting each other.  The stones are linked, they’ll glow when either one is touched. And the patter struck will continue until it is answered in some way with the other piece. We came up with our own code, something that would help us communicate over some distance without having to run a courier.  Three bursts is *permission to come over?* But Shauna always treated it more like a warning, less like she was actually asking.

She’s coming to the house, probably to pick us up.  I don’t mind the ride to school, in fact I really apprecciate it,  but I am not ready for someone to come by.

“Stars… ok, Blue. remember the door I showed you, that leads down to my workshop? I need you to grab one of the extra, empty bags in there, along with my schoolbag. Can you get that?” I rattle off instructions, looking for tupperware I can use to store this mountain of cookies. “Oh, and can you grab me about three Kerry feathers, they’re a component for class today.”

“Of course, Master… Um, what do Kerry feathers look like?” Blue wavers at the entryway of the kitchen, ready to fetch the supplies, but hesitant for some reason.

“The jars are lablled, Blue. You can’t miss it. We have to hurry, I have no idea how long ago Shauna told me she’d be coming over.”  I don’t mean for my voice to come out as derisive as it does, but we really don’t have time for this.

Blue hesitates for another moment, but leaves without protest.  I breathe a sigh of relief and set upon the task of making something that Blue can have for lunch while he’s at the care center.  The place seemed nice, but looks can be deceiving. I just want to make sure he’s taken care of. I don’t want this to be one of those terrible experiences Blue keeps being exposed to.

At the very least, he’ll be surrounded by others of his kind.  That’s got to be comforting in some way. Back at the market, Blue was kept in a solitary cage.  It’ll probably do him good to be on the same level as someone else. Maybe it will help him open up if he’s able to talk to someone else freely, devoid of the implicit threat of punishment.

The lunches I pack are identical, and as I’m packing up the last of the cookies it occurs to me that there’s really no better icebreaker than food, and the attendant did mention that all food restrictions don’t apply to food that’s brought in.

I set aside a box for Blue and a couple for myself, rationalizing that it is entirely moral to start a friendship with bribery.

Chapter Text

I hand the folded little paper bag to my Master with a lump in my throat.  I have no idea if the component I’ve gotten him is correct. He didn’t check it. He just threw the little wax paper containment bag in his satchel without even glancing at it.  A part of me is happy that he trusts me enough to not check over the simple tasks he assigned me, but it would be a relief to know if I’ve gotten him the right thing.

Feathers seemed simple enough to narrow down, but there were at least five different varieties on the component wall in his study.  That is assuming a Kerry Feather is an actual feather. It might be a fancy name for pollen, for all I know. Still, the open jar on his desk seemed like a good guess.  The blue and white feathers seemed magical in nature and the scrawling curvy letters on the side might said ‘Kerry Feathers’. I might just be worrying myself into a mess for nothing.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that this is going to end badly.

It’s not a sentiment that’s shared by my Master.  He just smiles and pats my head, thanking me as though I’ve done something genuinely helpful, and my stomach sinks.  What if I’ve given him the wrong thing? What if it’s dangerous? What if he gets hurt…

“Ok, here’s your bag for the day.” Master smiles brightly and holds up a simple messenger bag, perhaps a little worn, but still sturdy.  He must see the confusion on my face as he continues, opening up the bag and showing me the contents.

“Yes, well… this is your lunch box, that’s just for you, and I got you a little thermos for tea. This box has a bunch of cookies in it, you’re going to meet a lot of people today and food is a great icebreaker so I’m sure this will go over well.  There’s still some room in here if you want to go get your stuffie, you can take a nap… if you want.”

My head is spinning but I find myself nodding along. I keep forgetting all of the allowances that familiars are entitled to.  They get the carpeted ground and soft light of the care center while their masters are otherwise occupied. They are in a position to be respected, since actions against them can be taken as actions disrespectful to their mages. 

Master wants me taken care of while he’s away.  I’m allowed off tether in the center. He’s even feeding me while he’ll be gone, and he’s made sure it would be allowed so that I wouldn’t get in trouble. 

His hand ruffles through my hair and brings my attention back to him.  His smile warms me from the inside and cuts away at all the tension that built in my mind.

That is, until I see his neck.

“Umm, I –” I try to stutter out a coherent statement, but there’s a knock at the door and Master grabs his own bag and shoves a muffin in my open mouth.

“Eat quick, we need to run.” He shoves one in his own mouth, grabs two more muffins and starts walking towards the door.

I hurry to follow after him, mind racing as I pull my bag onto my shoulder and grab my stuffie from where I’d hidden it downstairs.   I grab the scarf off the coat rack for good measure. Hopefully it should be enough.

“Master…” I speak just loud enough to get his attention before offering up the scarf as innocently as I can.

“What are you doing?” Master’s voice is confused, but not angry.  I don’t want to be bothersome, but I can’t let him go out like that.

“I… um.” I can feel my face getting warm, but I just try to keep posture. “It’s a bit cold outside, Master.” I pray that he takes the bait.

“Oh, are you cold? Here you go.” He takes the scarf, but wraps it around me with a smile.

“It was… I, that was for you…” I stutter stupidly as I paw at the cloth wrapped around my neck.

“I’m not really bothered by the cold until later in the year.  Though at that point I do get pretty useless…” He mumbles the last bit, and I’m not sure I was supposed to hear it.

“Master, really, you should wear this…” I insist, losing my subtlety, but hoping I get my intent across.

“I’m fine, Blue, I promise.” Master waves away my concern and starts back toward the door.  It’s not Shauna standing there like I had assumed. Instead Andé is in her place, patiently waiting for us.  Master does not seem as surprised as I am. He continues on as though he expected a familiar to be the one to call on him.

“Ah, hello, Andé. Nice to see you. Shauna’s in the carriage I assume?”

 Andé nods, stepping aside to make a sweeping gesture to the carriage waiting in the street.  Master tosses one of the muffins to Andé before making his way forward. I’m pretty sure Andé catches the muffin on reflex alone.  He only registers what he’s caught after Master has left, leaving me as the only one who catches his confused expression.

Idly, I’m glad that I’m not the only one who’s constantly confused by this man.

Shauna’s munching happily on her muffin by the time we’re loaded in together, and although Andé offers his to her, she lets him know that she will be cut off from Master’s sweets if she doesn’t let him have it.

He shoots a worried look over to me when no one’s paying attention and I do my best to smile and look supportive, taking another bite out of my half finished muffin.  It’s odd, I realize, how much I trust my Master. I’m barely thinking about the things I’m accepting from him. I didn’t even give the pastry a cursory sniff. I push the thoughts of what that could mean to the back of my mind and just let myself take comfort in pressing closer to the hard line of my Master’s leg.

“Blue, why’d you take off your scarf?” Master’s voice shoots a bolt of panic through me. I can feel myself correcting my posture, shoulders back, back straight, even as I know that the posture I’m assuming is the wrong one.  I’m still too used to the old pet positions. The new ones have yet to become fully ingrained in my mind. The sentiment is the same, though. The less that is wrong with you, the less they have to complain about. For the moment, I just have to find a way to explain myself that won’t be embarrassing to Master’s friend.

I mess with the dark colored material in my hands for a moment and try to clear my thoughts.  I’d unwound the thing the second he was out the door, hoping to convince him somewhere along the ride that he needed to wear it.

“I… I, please wear it…” I don’t like the pathetic pleading tone of my voice, but it’s all I’ve got left.

“What? What should he wear…” Shauna dissolves into giggles before she can finish her statement and my heart drops into my stomach.

“Oh my Stars! Blue, you absolute tomcat!” She exclaims in between breaths.

I am certain that every inch of my body has turned as red as a tomato.  I want to crawl under the seat and never come out again.

“Shauna what are you talking about?” Master’s voice just sounds confused.

“Blue, pff…” she covers her mouth daintily to suppress another giggle before pointing out the mirrored spot on her own body.  “Blue left you a hicky.”

 Master’s cheeks color as his hands go to his neck, trying to feel out the offending spot on his own.  The school’s already ablaze with talk of how unqualified I am. I don’t want to think about how this will be interpreted.  Master’s put a lot of work into making me his familiar, and I don’t want it all to go to waste.

“Gotta say Kara, I know you’re all for this new style of training, but you have to find it funny that he’s the one leaving claiming marks on you.”  Shauna taunts playfully, but my mind hangs on her words.

Oh Stars, I didn’t mean it that way.  I didn’t mean for it to be taken as a claim.  Master owns me, it’s not the other way around.  I know that, and more than anything I need him to understand.

“N-no, I swear.” The words tumble out of me like I have no control of my tongue.  “I didn’t mean that. I would never. I’m, I’m lucky you waste time on me, I know that. I would not seek to overstep my bounds.  I have no claim over you. I will gladly bear your claiming mark, anything you want. I swear.”

 It all comes out in a rush, and I mean it, too. I’ll take whatever Master deems fit, be that a bruise at the neck or the mark of his teeth, hell, I’ll sit still if he wants to take a knife to my skin. I need him to understand that I didn’t mean what I did, I need him to claim me.

More than that… I think I want him to.  

I feel so unstable here. I don’t understand Master’s friend, and I sure as hell don’t understand what they will be expecting of me at the school.  I want to feel stable, I want to be safe. I crave the easy, soothing contact from the other night. I want his voice, his scent, his warmth, to tell me it’s ok.

He tugs the scarf out of my hand, winding it around himself while he lets his other hand play in my hair.

“Aw, Shauna, Blue was just a little too eager when we were playing around.  I thought it was cute.” He pats my head a little for emphasis and it’s all I can do to hold onto his leg like a lifeline.

His fingers slot under my collar, pulling the slack taut against my throat.  It’s not hard to breathe, but the pressure is there. It’s just like when he fixed the slots on the collar the first time, making sure there was enough slack for me to breathe.  His fingers rest on my pulse point, but I’m sure he could hear it unassisted, my heart’s beating so loud.

His thumb runs over the high point of my neck in a soothing little pattern that makes my hair stand on end as I shiver and press closer to his knees.  That’s right. He’s claimed me already.

  Now and a hundred times when I proved myself unworthy.  The pressure makes sure that I can feel my collar, the soft leather one consistent band of pressure against my neck.

 I am his choice.

Master chuckles as I pull closer to him. “After all, it’s not like anyone’s going to forget who Blue belongs to.”  Master’s voice is a pleasant rumble and he pets me for the rest of the carriage ride.

----------

 Despite the ride, we’ve managed to arrive well behind schedule, cutting slightly into one of Master’s classes, and significantly into one of Shauna’s.  Andé is trusted to escort us both to the care center as both our Masters go running into the building.

I don’t know much about Andé.  He’s taller than me, seems just a bit older, and is obviously stronger.  He’s probably only seen one or two Masters. He’s no doubt expensive, with his training, yet he’s been very kind to me.

“I wanted to thank you.” My words come out without much thought, but the sentiment is genuine.  Without our Masters here, it should be ok to talk.

  Andé doesn’t seem to share my sentiment.  He nods a polite acknowledgment and we continue walking.

I wonder if he can talk.  I’ve met a few who can’t, for one reason or another. Still, my weak thanks doesn’t quite covey the gratitude I want to show him, so I continue on my own.

 “You didn’t have to help me yesterday, but you went first and let me copy your stances.  I didn’t know what I was doing and you helped me not make a fool out of myself and my Master at the opening ceremony,” I clarify, hoping it will wring a few words out of him.  

He turns to me, continuing to move forward, and I feel the need to hide myself from his silent appraisal.

“You’re a carrier.”  He says the words matter-of-factly, quick and simple.  His voice is deep, but it doesn’t sound scratchy or pained.  He’s probably just not used to being asked to vocalize. Silence is often an appreciated asset.  Though it’s what he said that’s a little more alarming.

“You’re not.” I try for the same even tone and press my hands to my sides so I don’t feel them shaking.

It’s no secret that I'm a carrier, but there are very few reasons to bring it up.  He’s bigger than me, stronger too, and there’s no one else in these halls.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I… I didn’t mean it to sound that way!” His voice is as panicked as I feel.

“What was it supposed to mean?” Doubt colors my tone, and I don’t try to hide it. 

“I… that’s just… It’s just something that’s in my training to… notice.” He says it to me, but his eyes are looking anywhere but.  There’s a blush high on his cheeks.

I look at him with new eyes. 

“You don’t seem like specialized breeding stock.” There’s still hesitance in my voice, but the nervous tension currently flooding through Andé right now is putting my own nerves at ease.  It seems he really didn’t mean anything by it.

“I didn’t realize there was a way to tell,” he snickers to himself, and I realize that he really doesn’t know what it is.

You don’t have the hurts of breeding stock.  They don’t get taken out of the facilities until they’ve been practically fucked to death… if they get taken out.

 If you have good enough breeding potential, if you’re pretty enough, with desirable enough traits for the market to want a new batch of you, they’ll take you to a breeding facility.  They’ll use you as a stud or carrier and make as many of you as they want.

According to my chart, my traits were random, not enough of a chance that my kits would share my eyes, hair, or skin color.  I’m not effective as breeding stock, thank the stars.

“Not at the market!” he clamors, seemingly realizing where my mind had taken his statements.  The sudden loudness nearly has my head scraping the ceiling. He takes a deep breath and continues, quieter.

“I was actually part of a private breeding ring.  My last master was a bored baroness married to some wealthy landowner in the north.  She had made a hobby cross-breeding different species together, selling the best specimens to her dear friends.  Something about trying to make different breeds stronger or share traits… I don’t really know. It wasn’t anything like the farm, she had us kept in peak physical condition so we could always aid in her experiments.”  His tone is level, but I see the tremble in his hands.

“So how did you end up here?” I ask, both genuinely curious and anxious for him.

“She had people who cared for us physically, but we were alone to deal with… everything else.  Some of us couldn’t handle it. Some of them started malfunctioning, some of them just stopped being useful to her, some got violent…” Andé trails off, his mind somewhere else altogether.

“Which were you?” I speak the question hovering between us.

“I… I disobeyed. I was supposed to breed with this carrier, a swan, but she already had a mate.  She loved one of the other studs, another swan that she’d already bonded with, and--”

“And they mate for life,” I cut him off, already knowing where this was going.  There are a few species that find it very hard to break themselves from their bonded pair.  I’ve seen it a few times, usually when one of them has to get sold off. The separation drives them mad.  Sometimes they are able to keep living, other times…

“I couldn’t do it,”  he whispers, like it’s some big secret.  

“That was irresponsible, if she wanted to have swans as a set of breeders she shouldn’t have left them alone, shouldn’t have allowed them to court each other.”  I try to be diplomatic, but it’s hard to say it with a straight face. Andé’s obviously still hurt by the whole endeavor and I don’t even want to think about what happened to the swans.

“She sold me afterwards, sent me with a caravan into Capital city.  And, well, that’s where my Mistress picked me up. The baroness had been training up familiars mostly, so all my training documents were in order.  You know the rest, I suppose.” He finishes with a weak smile that I try to return before we face the door in front of us.

We’ve reached the care center.

Andé holds open the door and we present our papers together.  A black plastic band goes around Andé’s wrist, a red one around mine, and we’re allowed in.

The care center looks just the same as it did the day before, though it seems most of the familiars have just arrived.  It’s early in the day so they aren’t curled together or ready to sleep just yet. They seem to be greeting each other.  

They seem to know each other quite well, though I suppose theirs is a pretty close community.  I suppose I can understand. They know that they’ll be able to see each other at a fairly consistent basis.  Their schedule is the same as their masters, they come into school at the same times and dates as all the others.  They have the opportunity to make friends with familiars owned by different masters.

“Blue, right?”  I vaguely recognise the avian from the opening ceremony, but I know for a fact that Master never told her my name, and I sure as hell didn’t.

“Y-yeah…”  It’s all I can do to nod along. She is correct after all, but I don’t know what she wants with me.  She takes my hand, pulling me towards her collection of friends before I can so much as ask why.

There’s another cat, better pedigree, a Maine Coon if I’m correct.  She doesn’t seem too interested, but the others seem a little more excited by my arrival.  The owl is practically bouncing in place, but the hedgehog and red panda seem a bit more nervous.

“This one?  I only saw him at the opening ceremony.” The avian speaks to her friends more than to me, but she hasn’t let go of my arm.  Why were these familiars looking for me?

“Yeah! You’re Blue, right?”  The owl speaks excitedly grabbing my free hand in his.

“Yes, um… I’m sorry, do I know you?” I hope it doesn’t come across as weird or insulting, but as far as I know, I’ve never seen these familiars.

“Well, not really… I saw you in my Master’s class yesterday.  Besides, even if I hadn’t, the whole school’s talking about you.  I’m Nyc, by the way,” the owl continues, seemingly bashful in the explanation for his earlier excitement.

“Yeah, even my Master wouldn’t shut up about it.  He must have written out eighty letters last night trying to figure out where the hell your master came from, or who he is at least,” the Main Coon adds, quirking her eyebrow.  I don’t like the way her eyes roam over me, it feels like she’s cataloging all my flaws.

“Avery, don’t dump all this on him!” The red panda practically wails at her companion.

“She belongs to a third year, she’s just a little… much…” Nyc carefully hedges. 

“Oh.” It sounds stupid, but it’s all i can think to say.  I don’t know these people, but they seem to know each other quite well.  I look back to find Andé still behind me, observing the same bizarre spectacle.  The two of them are still holding my hands, keeping me in place, but Andé offers no help.  He just shrugs his shoulders and sits on one of the cushions by Avery.

  I suppose I should be glad he hasn’t abandoned me, but I’m a little miffed he’s of no help.

“So? Who is this mystery man who has the whole school scrambling?” Avery reiterates her point and fixes her gaze back on me.

It’s dangerous to be so free with Master’s private information, but I don’t know much to begin with.  At least nothing that would interest their masters.

 “I… I don’t know much about him.  He lives alone, doesn’t even keep servants.  He’s never had a pet before, let alone a familiar, but he’s exceptionally kind.” I can’t help the tentative pride in my voice, but Avery doesn’t seem convinced.

“Really, you’re pretty bruised up, hon… Plus, he’s not even letting the center feed you.” She shows off the little black band around her own wrist.  It’s the same as Andé’s but different from mine. I take a quick look around and see that there’s only two other familiars that have the same red plastic band as I do.

“No… No, my Master… He doesn’t like the kibble so he…” I tighten my hand around the bag I’m carrying.  “He packed food for me, and some treats for the other familiars I might meet today. You want some?” I bite my lip, hoping it doesn’t come out too eager, but it seems I don’t have much to worry about.  The others pull me down into the section of bean cushions that they’ve claimed for themselves while I pull out the box of Master’s cookies. Andé too seems interested in my package. Master’s muffin was probably good enough that he’s curious for more of Master’s pastries.

“Careful Xia, you never know when you’re going to catch a disease from lying in the trash.”  The harsh voice comes from behind us, a smirking wolverine who seems to have had too much fun with her own joke. The red panda’s face goes pink, she must be Xia.

I know I’m not the same caliber as the rest of these guys, but they had seemed pretty nice.  They didn’t seem to mind as much as most of the owners did yesterday, at least.

“Oh, shove off Mel! Go be a dick somewhere it’ll be appreciated.”  Avery all but snarls, showing her teeth and arching her back.

Mel seems to take offence at that, but doesn’t do anything more than stick out her tongue before walking away.  It doesn’t mean anything to her. I suppose it shouldn’t mean anything to me either, I’ve been called worse. Master likes me, it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.  It doesn’t matter how right they are.

“Hey don’t listen to her.  Little upstart got here a week ago and thinks she’s hot shit.  Give her a few weeks. Trust me, let her learn her place here. With that attitude I know for a fact she’s never been owned by a mage.” Nyc manages through gritted teeth. All his feathers puffed up in a show of angry defence.

“Her Mistress’ working on some huge project, some big grant directly through the school from some magister doing work in another country.  She acts like she can’t say anything, but it’s all public record if it was through the school, nothing too secret.” Xia adds at the confused look on my face. 

 Even still, it doesn’t explain why they defended me. I don’t know these people, they’ve never met me before, and I didn’t even have any information that they seemed to want.

“You don’t… um, agree with her.  I mean, I know I’m not… exactly ‘familiar stock’. I’m not really supposed to be one of you...”  I can’t help the way I stutter. I don’t know why I’m questioning their niceties. I want to belong, I want them to like me.

“Hon, I guarantee we are more alike than you think.  Some of us like to be all high and mighty, but when it comes down to it the only difference between us is our shelf life.  It’s not right if we don’t at least have each other’s backs when no one else is around.” Avery brushes her hand over mine in a comforting gesture, smiling when my eyes meet hers.

We take turns pulling cookies out of the box, testing them, occasionally offering them to familiars who come in later or are curious about what we have.  We laugh and talk freely amongst ourselves, and though there are a few familiars who very distinctly look down on my presence, the group shields me from the brunt of it.

I don’t know where we stand, but I think I’ve made some friends.

Chapter Text

Blue

Xia sweeps another fugitive lock of Avery’s hair into place before settling back down against Nyc.  We’ve found our way into an oddly clustered cuddle pile that has to shift every time Xia decides to change targets.  She’s offered to braid everyone's hair in a different style and although Ande’s is too short to be anything more than played with and mine doesn’t stay without a tie it is a rather nice experience.  Each of us is getting pampered at least a little today.

“If you don’t belong to a first year, then who is it?” the shearwater questions as she slides a little further into Ande’s lap.

Nyc looks a bit sheepish but says, “Well, I belong to a third year storm mage.  Though, technically I belonged to her sister.” His wings dip, but he’s trying to keep levity in his voice. 

If the others see it they don’t acknowledge it and we all start talking about something else while Nyc gets pulled into the middle of our cuddle pile.

“Blue!” I hear Master’s voice and I jump to my feet.  Master is over by the attendant’s desk, but there’s no way he missed the cuddle pile I was a part of.

  I don’t know why I’m so nervous.  He gave me permission to nap while I was here, and there are very few breeds so averse to touching that they wouldn’t seek out others in times of rest.  It’s entirely natural, completely innocent…

I wave a quick goodbye before I run off and meet Master at the desk.  Apparently, he’s come to collect me for Potions. He signs me out on the sheet and the attendant takes my wristband.

“Was the center ok?  Did you have fun?” There’s a nervous tick in his voice but he doesn’t acknowledge it, so I try my best not to either.  I nod along, but Master waits to speak again until we are well past the doors in a hallway with no other students. Master looks like he’s a bit nervous, or perhaps irritated.  I’m not quite sure what to do with that, but it’s easy to dismiss.  

“The cookies were a big hit, then?” he continues, and I realize he’s looking for a verbal response.

“Yes, Master.  They were very good.  Thank you for the treat, all of the familiars liked them!” I can’t help but brag a small bit.  I want him to know how much they enjoyed his pastries. Maybe later I’ll tell him that they’d thought I accidentally took his box of cookies and all their masters were eating pet pastries instead.

“Well, they always are.” He smiles down at me.  This master likes verbal response... 

“How did your cookies go?” I fiddle with the strap of the bag, glad to have something to do with my hands.  I want more of those smiles. It’s more than his happiness meaning my safety, this Master deserves to be happy.  As it is, I’m struggling not to talk until I run out of breath. I want to tell him about all the familiars I’ve met…

But that would be improper.

I shouldn’t speak over my Master. I haven’t seen him all day.  He probably has just as much that he wants to say to me. I should listen to him first, and then wait to be addressed... if he wants to listen to me, he’ll ask.

“Well, half the school has pledged to wage war in defence of them so, rather well I think.” There’s a smirk on his face that he’s trying to hide, but eventually, the grin wins.  He’s practically giggling by the time we turn the corner. “I swear, people are all the same.”

Something in his voice is exactly the same as when Avery had said it.  In different words, and about two very different sets of people, but the sentiment is the same.  It seems like a trap to say that we are similar, that at the base level we at least act in the same way.  I can’t think of a good response and soon the appropriate time to speak up has come and gone.

Master doesn’t seem to mind my lack of response.  When he turns to me I nod, assuring him that I’m paying attention.  He seems to take that as enough of a response and continues.

“Come on, Potions is our last class today and then we can go home. Tell me about all those familiars I found you with.”

I tell him about the menagerie that I’ve become acquainted with in the time away from him.  Nyc I try to portray with as much of the manic energy as I can while maintaining the illusion that he may still grow into the classically attributed traits of owlish wisdom and refinery.  I’m able to give him the name- Marina- for the short tailed shearwater that we both met during the opening ceremony. Master tells me that her owner is in his herbology class, that they had also met again today.  The Maine Coon, Avery, is a little harder to introduce. She’s the only other cat that I’ve met here, so I lead with that information.  

“Two cats under one roof, Stars, I can just imagine the trouble you’ll get into.” Master smiles and whispers under his breath.  It seems like it’s not something I was supposed to hear, but having heard it ties my stomach into knots. We wouldn’t get into trouble, no one in their right mind would go around actively seeking mischief.

“ I wouldn’t dream of it, Master.  I swear, you’ll get no trouble from me!”  I start apologizing, but Master interrupts me.

“Come on now, none of that.  Tell me about the rest of your friends.”  He just smiles and brushes my apology off, wanting to know more. 

 My face heats at that. I don’t know if an afternoon of pleasant conversation is enough to warrant friendship, but I continue talking about Xia the red panda and Sui the hedgehog. Sui can’t speak, it’s been an issue since her birth, but Avery told me that it wasn’t really a problem for her because her mistress is deaf and doesn’t care if her familiar can speak.  Xia, Sui, and Marina are the only others who belong to first year students.

Master smiles patiently through my excited chatter, even laughing at the stories.  There’s a light in his eyes that makes me feel giddy for having put it there.

We’re not as early to class as I believe Master would like. I can tell when the nervous hunch sets in to his shoulders.  Only about half of the class is there, but they’re already turning over their cauldrons and washing out their equipment. The teacher isn’t even there, though his familiar is, antennae twitching about in apparent annoyance at all the people in the room.  The familiars are at their masters’ sides, assisting their mages.

“I was hoping we’d have the room to ourselves for a bit, but I guess this is to be expected on the day we’re making our first potion,” Master sighs, and we find our way to our table.

  It’s later in the day than I thought.  The glow of the suns coming through the window has faded to orange as only two remain in the sky.  There’s a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the light. This is the spot I chose for Master, the task he entrusted me with.  I wonder if I’ll be able to sit here at any point this semester without color bleeding into my cheeks.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” it comes out in a rush as I turn away from the window and try to ignore the squeezing in my heart.

“Of course, though I warn you, a lot of this is just tedious,” Master says, already lining the desk area with beakers and equipment.

“I don’t mind!”  I say eagerly. Tedious work is the least of my troubles, I just want to be helpful in some way.

“Alright, I need to wash out all these things, so just go through my bag and lay out all the components.”  Master piles a precarious pile of items in his arms and sets off to the washing station in the back of the class, while I try very hard not to let my heart stop beating in my chest.

Laying out components, right… Should be easy. Should be something anyone could do.  There isn’t even anything to mess up... so long as the components are right.

I try not to handle Master’s bag like it’s dangerous as the other students start filtering in and taking their places at their desks.  There’s nowhere I could stash the component should it be faulty, not with so many people watching. But there’s another issue.

All of Master’s components come in the same little baggies.  Some are a little heavier than others, and some shift around in large clumps, but without going through them I wouldn’t even be able to tell which is which.

My hands tremble as I lay out the bags in no particular order, trying to arrange them in a line.  If nothing else, they will be presentable.

 The teacher comes in and the class begins. He runs through lab safety protocols and begins instructing the students on the initial steps of the potion making, the steps that should be the same for everyone.  Master pays more attention to ruffling my hair and praising me than the components I’ve laid out and for once, I’m not happy with that. Master’s distracted and I just want him to check his components. I don’t care if I get in trouble or if he gets mad at me, I just don’t want to put him in danger.

  Master seems to know what he’s doing to an almost frightening degree.  He’s not using the book like the other students, not even the ones with the personal notes drawn in for alterations.  He takes sachet after sachet and adds the components at the right time and speed for the brew to undergo six color changes by the time half the class has produced cauldrons of black ooze more likely to kill someone than heal them.  I feel my heart pick up every time he picks up a new bag, but he hasn’t gotten to whatever tainted ingredient I’ve given him yet. But the line of possibilities is growing shorter, keeps growing shorter. By the time there are only two left I can’t stand it anymore.

“Master, I’m not s--” I try to warn, but in my approach I seem to startle him and his hand crashes into the beaker of water he’d set aside.

“Stars.  Blue, just keep stirring this, ok?  The green ring around the center’s going to get bigger.   By the time it’s completely green the corian needs to be fully mixed, then dump in the kerry feathers as fast as you can.  I’m going to run and grab some more water.” He moves my hands to the glass stirring rod as he speaks before he picks up the remarkably unshattered beaker and starts off to the water station.

“But, I-” I try to speak as soon as my mind catches up with me.  I need to warn him about the components. I can’t be the one doing this, I don’t know the first thing about potions.

“Just don’t stop stirring, it’ll gelatinize if you don’t keep it in motion,” he orders before he turns away and I find myself caught in the repetitive motion of stirring the pot, watching the green ring grow wider.  It’s going quick, so I don’t have much time.

I spill out the contents of the two bags.  One has small brown root-looking chunks, and the other is my feathers.

The chunks go into the cauldron and the green isn’t slowing down.  I try to breathe slow. It’s going to be fine. Someone will see this.  They’ll know something’s wrong. A quick glance reveals that no one is watching.  The students are all nose deep in their books, the familiars are at their sides, even the teacher is distracted with another student’s failure.

The potion’s simmering green and I have no choice.  The simple white and blue feathers lie very innocently on the table.  Inert, they don’t seem like anything special. All I can do is pray they won’t explode in this mixture.

“Stars, please be right.” I let the feathers drop into the bubbling liquid, satisfied that it won’t be Master who gets hurt at least.  The rest of the world goes slow as they drift down, my heart doing double time.

“Those aren’t Kerry feathers,” I hear a soft but toneless voice say.  I look up to see Tulla, antennae twitching and hair pulled up so far over her eyes I’m surprised she can see at all, but I have no doubt she’s right.  She works with components all day. I just wish she’d come over a little sooner. When I look down, the feathers are already mixing into the potion.

The potion glows such a bright yellow tone that I have to shield my eyes.

The good news: The potion didn’t explode.

 The bad news: Everyone in class is staring at us

Maybe I shouldn’t have promised that I’d be no trouble….

Chapter Text

Blue

Everyone’s attention is on me.  The glowing cauldron radiates light as if to encourage the last people in the corner to turn around and stare at this potion gone wrong.  This cannot be the correct reaction. It looks nothing like the other brews. Whatever I put in this pot, it wasn’t supposed to go in there.

“Blue? Blue what the--” I hear Master over the small crowd that has gathered around his station. He sounds mad, annoyed at the very least.  He has to push his way through his dumbfounded classmates. It’s all I can do to kneel down and hide myself from the gaze of the other students behind the work station.

 I can feel everything good that Master and I have built together crumble like sand under this new revelation.  Last night Master claimed me, not in a way that I’m familiar with, but it was a claim all the same. Usually the claiming comes the day of my purchase.  I wear the bruises and aches of my use, and there’s a sense of stability that comes with them. I was used, therefore I am claimed and have a place in my master’s house. 

Last night, all the stability of a claiming followed, but Master didn’t have to do a thing but talk to me.  He spoke of the things a master might do as a responsibility, not an indulgence. I’m his, simple as that. He didn’t need to leave bites or bruises on my skin, because his hold is all encompassing.  

He more than owns me.  He cares for me.

At least, he did…

I wish I had the more concrete declarations.  The burn might bring me some bit of solace as Master scrambles to fix the mess I’ve left him.

“Kara! What is this?”  It’s the teacher, staring over our cauldron with wide eyes.  At least he doesn’t seem too mad. Maybe he can’t tell how terribly I've messed this up.  I don’t want Master’s grade to suffer for my incompetence.

“Oh, ummm, well sir,” Master speaks slowly, dipping his finger into the mixture, working it quickly between his fingers before returning his attention to the teacher “you see, we were trying to make a concentrate.  That’s why it’s not the color it should be. It’s a little more potent too… We were just messing around with rearrangeable materials--” He continues on, but I stop listening in favor of catching my own breath.

 Master is lying, lying well and with a smile on his face, while I try to regain enough presence of mind to slow my heart.  He hasn’t even looked at me. I pray that he’s calmed down some by the time he does.

“Hey, you ok?” Tulla’s monotone voice reminds me of her presence.  She moves so silently, I doubt anyone realizes that she’s there before she starts speaking.  At least, that’s how it seems to me when I realize that Tulla is crouched not an inch from me.

“Stars above!” I’m fairly certain my heart is succeeding in its efforts to pound its way out of my chest.  Tulla sits beside me, utterly unfazed by the commotion above and around us, studiously ignoring all the questions flying above our heads.

“That’s a pretty unique component,” she says after a few beats of silence, probably accepting that I wasn’t going to answer her first question.  I’m reminded that she’s my only witness. She knew what I put in the cauldron, if not what it was then at least what it wasn’t. She’d seen it for a split second and she’d been able to tell that it wasn’t a Kerry feather.  If the lying that Master’s trying to pull off is any indication, it’s best that no one new find out what’s in the brew.

“Please, please don’t say anything!  I don’t even know what that was, I grabbed the wrong thing in my Master’s workshop, I don't think this was supposed to happen--” I try to plead with her, but she cuts me off, completely unfazed, still in that gloomy single toned drone.

“I doubt it was supposed to happen too, your Master doesn’t seem like the flaunty type.” Her antenna gives a little twitch.  It’s as close to an emotional reaction as I’ve been able to get out of her, and I suppose I count it as a win. She doesn’t seem invested one way or the other.  She doesn’t seem eager to rat me out, at least.

“So, you won’t say anything?” I don’t like the tremor in my voice, but I am not above begging.  I need this clear between us. If nothing else, I'll settle for trying to make her understand how important it would be to me.

“Oh, well, if my Master asked, I would be bound to answer…” she hedges carefully, and I feel my heart sink.

 “I understand…” I press my hands together in an effort to keep the trembling to a minimum.  Her Master is the teacher. Of course she would be obligated to answer his questions and observe his students.  He couldn’t possibly keep an eye on all of them. It’s only a matter of--

“Just messing with you, kitty cat. He can’t make me tell him shit.” A devilish smile spreads across her face.

I manage a half smile in return before a hand grasps my shoulder and pulls me up onto my feet.

  My Master’s smiling, but not at me. He’s turned to the rest of the class, smiling out at them.  It’s only me who notices the tension in his steps as he pulls me out the door.

“Stars, I thought we’d never get out.” He takes a deep breath as soon as the door closes and sets a brisk pace walking away from the classroom.  I follow slowly behind him, nervous to abandon the safety of public space, but unwilling to lag behind.

“Master, your class-” I try to draw attention back to the most pressing commitment.  Any extra time for him to cool off would be appreciated.

“I told the teacher we’d be leaving early.” He doesn't turn to address me, and at this point it’s hard for me to match his wide steps.

“Master, I--” I try to hasten my way to him and… apologize? Beg? I’m not even sure what the most pressing concern is at the moment.

“We’re going home, Blue.” Master’s voice cuts through my half-formed protest, curt and dangerous.  I take the hint and follow him quietly.

 We turn the corner to an uninhabited hallway and Master pulls out a totem.  I have a half second to prepare myself for transport before Master activates the seal.

The last thing I see is someone turning down the hallway.  That someone is very surprised to see us vanish.

In that flash of transportation, it looks like the house appears around us rather than us materializing inside the house.  Regardless, I have to take a moment, leaning against the cabinet in the hallway before I can breathe normally.

“What happened! Stars above, I’ve tested that recipe before, I swear.  Nothing like that has ever happened before.” Master is pacing like mad, down and back the hallway before he turns to face me.  I can see the anxious tremble in the line of his body, but it’s nothing compared to the fear in his eyes. “Blue, what did you put in the cauldron?”

“I’m sorry.”  It’s out of my mouth in place of a real answer, and as meager as it is, it’s all I have to offer.  The look on Master’s face crushes me, like he hadn’t known the issue was me. Had he thought it was a freak accident?  He probably just didn’t want to face the idea of his pet knowingly screwing up his assignment.

“What did you put in the cauldron?”  The question comes again, calm and even, though the tone does nothing to assuage my fear.  Master takes a half step closer and I summon every bit of resolve to hold my ground.

“I-I was... trying to do what you asked, but-”  The excuse sounds weak to my own ears, and that’s without the useless stuttering peppered in.  It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t mean to cause him so much trouble, I need him to understand that.

“But you changed out my components? Blue, I-” His voice is hard, unyielding to my pitiful entreaties.  He’s not asking for justifications, he’s asking for an answer. Something I am proving unwilling to give.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what it was. And I- I was so s-scared it was going to hurt you.” I try to appeal to the gentle, kinder side of my Master.  This ridgid, unyielding side of him is new to me, confusing and possibly dangerous. I need him to understand that I meant him no harm, that I didn’t understand what I was doing.

Sure enough, his posture slumps as the dangerous light leaves his eyes and he speaks in a tone meant to soothe once more.

“Blue… It was a healing draught,” he explains. “You would have to include fireworks in the mix in order to get a hope of a spark.  Why do you think it’s what they start potions students on? Failure is just a waste of material and maybe a bad smell. There’s nothing in the mix that’s volatile.”  His eyes are weary, but he breathes a sigh of relief as I do. This is the Master I am familiar with.

  This is my kind and gentle Master.

“Well, that’s a... breath of relief now…” I try to choke out a lilting, teasing tone, but my voice cracks under the weight of the stress at precisely the wrong moments.

“Blue, what did you put in the cauldron?” HIs voice is quiet, but no less firm.  He’s worried about spooking me, but he needs to know the answer. He will probably have to explain himself to his teacher sometime in the coming days.  I fiddle with my thumbs, trying desperately to come up with a believable excuse as to why I don’t know the name of the component I gave him this morning.

After a few minutes, Master gives a little huff at my unresponsiveness. 

“Will you show me?” he asks quietly, directing the question more to the space between us than to me, as though it would be more likely to answer him.

I nod.  I’m more than willing to show him what I put in his potion, I just wish I had the courage to find my voice.

Master goes first, turning immediately and opening the door down into his study  He heads down the stairs without even sparing a look back to make sure that I’m following him.  He has trust that I’ll follow him. Though considering my options, where else would I go?

Even still, it’s strange to move untethered, unordered, of my own volition, downward into my Master’s private den.  My mind flicks through too many memories that have me questioning whether or not this is a good idea.

The room lights up as Master walks in.  It’s mostly crystals, shining in different hues, but before I can distract myself with anything else Master asks his question again.

“What did you put in the cauldron?”  His voice is even and I have to commend his efforts not to show his anger. I’m nowhere near as successful at hiding my own emotions as I point out the jar of feathers on his desk.

“Stars above, Blue, those are Almac feathers!  That ‘basic draught’ could probably heal a broken bone with these in it!  Why did you bring me this?” The question is no less damning with the knowledge of what I’ve brought him.

“I thought it was what you wanted.” I try to answer truthfully, swallowing around the lump in my throat.  I can feel the tears beginning to form, but I refuse to let them fall.

“What? Why?”  Master’s question is so simple and yet so complicated.  Simple for the average person, made complicated because of my stupid actions.

“...it was on the desk, and--” I try my best to lay out my thought process, but Master cuts me off.

“Blue, I asked for Kerry feather.  It doesn’t say that anywhere on this jar, nothing close.”  He waves the jar for emphasis and I have nothing left to say.  There’s an angry ember in my chest, just an uncomfortable twinge at being the guilty party even though I couldn’t have succeeded.

“I wouldn’t know.” It comes out snappy and angry and everything I’m not entitled to be, and I regret it the second it leaves my mouth.  Especially because my wonderful, amazing, attentive Master doesn’t miss it.

“What?” he queries, and I know I’m in a rough place.  Even still, he wouldn’t be as angry with me for misbehaving if he knew it was because I was just incapable, right?

“I… I can’t, I don’t know... how to read.” It’s harder to get out than I imagined, my stutter getting worse than it has since he first got me.  But once it’s out, my Master says nothing.

I don’t know what to do with that kind of reaction.  Does Master blame me? Has he realized just how stupid his pet is? That I don’t even have the basic skills of most children?

“Oh, Stars above I’m an idiot.” Master smacks himself on the forehead, seemingly coming to some sort of realization.  I suppose it’s fair that he hadn’t realized my inadequacies, I did do my very best to keep them out of his eyes. I tried to keep them hidden.  He can’t blame himself for missing the simple fact. And yet, by the look on his face it seems he does.

“I’m sorry Blue, I didn’t mean to cause such a… Stars burn it all, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t… know it would concern you.  It’s not considered normal to teach pets, or most house servants for that matter…”

“Do you want to learn?”  He says it so simply, as though he’s asking me if I want a pastry, that it takes me a moment to process exactly what he’s saying.   Do I want to learn how to read , is he serious? 

 Stars above, that is so much more precious than anything else he’s ever offered me.  He would, I know he would, he doesn’t make empty promises, he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.  It’s not a game to him. He wouldn’t dangle this in front of me just to snatch it back. He means it.  He would teach me, he’s willing to teach me.

“I…” Literacy is a freedom I never thought I’d be able to claim.  The ability to look at a page and interpret the symbols there. The ability to fall into a book that describes things that I could never have hoped to see, to experience.  The ability to dive headlong into a whole new world. 

It’s something that would survive to a new owner. Not like the scars that I thought would stay with me, disappointing each new master.  Not like the name this Master gave me, which could just as easily disappear should the new master dislike it. This would be mine. Something no new master could take away. 

“I’m not smart,” I blurt out, and Master blinks back a look of surprise so I try to explain in a fit of nervous energy that makes me feel like I could run from this side of town to the next, “but, but I swear to you I will work as hard as I can.”  

 “Blue,” Master starts, but I’m not finished.  I can’t have him thinking I’m taking this on lightly.  I can’t bear the thought of him taking the task on lightly, either.

“I know, I know I probably won’t get it, but please don’t give up on me.  I really would like to learn. I want to learn, please.” I stutter and babble through my words, desperate to get everything out in one go before Master can reconsider his offer, before he can say no.

“Blue, I’ll teach you.  I’m not messing around, I --”

“Say you won’t give up.” I know I have no right to demand this, but I need to hear him say it. I need him to acknowledge that it probably won’t go smoothly.  I need him to understand that I’m not the best. But, Stars, I want to learn. “Please, I know I won’t get it, I’m stupid, I know that, but please… Please don’t give up on me.”

“Blue, even if it takes--” Master smiles down at me and I can’t bear the grin in his voice.

“Swear to me.” He can take it back.  He could be lying. His promise to a pet doesn’t mean anything, he could break it without any consequences, but I need to hear the words.

“I swear I won’t give up on you.”  He pulls me into his arms. My head’s flush against his chest, so I can feel as much as hear his heartbeat.  “You do know that it is something pretty hard to do, right?” he mumbles, pressing little kisses onto the top of my head, draining the fight from me.  “No one is expecting you to make sense of it overnight. I certainly don’t. We’ll start you with some basic stuff and build from there. You’re not stupid, it’s just something you’re learning.”

As the moment passes so does my blind intensity, and I’m struck by the utter disrespect I’ve shown in the past few minutes.  I’ve yelled, talked over my Master, and demanded things I had no right to.

“I’m sorry,” It rings so painfully inadequate that I almost flinch at my own words. “I shouldn’t have… That was wrong of me.  I didn’t mean to-- demand anything of you, I...I-” The words don’t want to come out of my throat, but Master hushes me, and not with angry words or the promise of retribution.  He brushes his fingers through my hair, the other hand drawing calming little circles into my back until he decides to break the silence.

“You have nothing to apologize for.  This was my mistake, I should have noticed sooner.  I’m proud of you. You told me what was wong, and you showed me just how much you needed me to take this seriously, and I am.  I swear, Blue. We’ll be doing school together, learning side by side, just different subjects. Sounds pretty good, right?”

It’s all I can do to nod where I’m secured against his chest.

“Do you… know anything?  I just want to know where to start. Are we going from scratch or do you know your letters?” His voice is light, but I can feel the tension in his chest, the strain it is causing him to talk in the light tone that he uses with me.

“I...I know numbers,” I blurt out.  I know it’s pathetic, but I feel the need to offer up something.  “I’m good at numbers and simple, um…” I try to continue, scrambling to remember what the simple one is called, the mathematics with just the adding and dividing, “arithmetic.”

“You don’t know your letters but you know numbers?”  I hear the snicker in Master’s voice before he can smother it down on his own. It must sound pretty unbelievable.

“I don’t know what the numbers look like if they were written down.” I couldn’t read them off a page or differentiate them from the swirly symbols that are letters, but I try to explain what I mean. I’m not lying about knowing my numbers,but- “The numbers were more useful…”

“More useful than the written word?” he prods further, and I feel my face heat.

“The numbers keep count.  I’m… on my paperwork, I’m entertainment.  It’s not legal to sell a body slave under twelve, so a lot of people get around it by putting them into a different set of training.” 

 The silence between us is a palpable thing.  Master doesn’t speak, but he pulls me ever closer to him, tightening his arms around me.

 “I dance.” I answer the silent question I can feel on the tip of his tongue “They trained me to dance and entertain.  The numbers are useful keeping count and tracking steps and from there, the basic maths followed. It’s also useful when a master decides to itemize my infractions during a punishment. Thirty strokes for this, ten for this, fifteen for something else, a reprieve of five because I was well-behaved for the rest of the evening… It helps to know what’s coming, when it would end at least...” I try to explain.  My voice doesn’t quite hold its resolve all the way through, eventually dwindling to a whisper that I willingly smother into my Master’s chest.

“Was dancing good for you?” Master asks, his lips pressing gently behind one ear, making me squirm unexpectedly.  Master doesn’t pursue the reaction, simply runs his hand through my hair in a soothing gesture.

“I’m told I’m very flexible and keep time well.  A natural study for the skill.” I parrot back what I’ve been told by instructors and entertained guests alike.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Blue.  Do you like it?” Master pushes, and I’m silent for a minute.

“I… I enjoy it,” I answer, realizing as I voice the statement how true it is.  I had no choice in learning the skill. It was chosen for me, as was how far I would pursue the training, but I enjoyed it for as long as I had been trained.  The training was unfamiliar, as was the strain it put on my body, but I liked learning my limitations. I liked discovering just what my body could do, how far I could push myself.  I liked the satisfied burn in my body from that exertion.  

“Well then, we’ll have to look into continuing that,” Master says, continuing to stroke the uneasiness out of my body.  

I’m glad Master’s holding me. I’m dizzy with the possibility that Master would let me pursue dance, not because it accentuated my better qualities, but because it interested me.

“Oh, look at that.  We’ve disturbed the little elemental.”  Master releases me slowly, turning me to see the amorphous glob of sand that’s slinking as close to us as it can get while remaining on the main desk.

“W-what’s that?” My voice cracks over the question, but Master chooses to ignore it in favor of introducing me to the blob.

“Sand elemental, my brother sent it to me,” he says in lieu of an actual explanation.

“Does… um, does he have a name?” I ask, moving a bit closer to the blob, trying not to spook it into running to wherever it was hiding.

“Not...not sure, sometimes they spend a lot of time around people and find names that they like, but given how skittish this one is, I doubt it liked being around folks.  And unless you’re told otherwise by an elemental, they usually don’t have genders.”

“How do you know?” I can't help but wonder aloud.

“Well, elementals can sometimes pick a gender the way they pick a name.  They recognize it as a ‘person concept’ and abide by it for their own amusement.”

“I mean, how can an elemental tell you?” I clarify.

“They have their own language, just like you and me.  Though they don’t all have functional ways to make and interpret noise so it’s more movement based, something they can all recognize.”

Master makes little motions with his hands, making sure that he has the elemental’s attention before continuing on with more advanced motions.  The elemental responds in kind, moving its whole body. The more Master gestures to it, the more familiar the gestures seem.

“Zadik,” Master says eventually, coming out of his intense discussion.  “It likes Zadik and doesn’t enjoy the concept of gender.”

“Those motions, they… Well, they look like what  Avery was doing to communicate with Sui. I thought they made it up together, but you know it…”  I must sound crazy, but Master assuages my nervousness.

“Sui can’t speak, right? And her owner has an auditory issue… Yeah, elemental is pretty standard to use in those cases.  It’s pretty universal, though I think there are some regions trying to come up with dialectal variants. Don’t know why though, it’s easier to just have the one universal.” Master rambles on for a bit before he quits, looking sheepish.

“Would you… teach me some of that too?” I feel the blush rising in my face.  I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s important to me. “I don’t want to be a bother, I just… Sui and the rest…”

“Blue, I’d be glad to.”

Chapter Text

Ande

Mistress is… angry.

It’s not the typical anger of an owner.  It’s not something wrong or out of place.  It’s not like a flash in a pan, fiery and dangerous for a moment, but gone just as fast.  No, this is something low burning, eating away at the kindling at a slow, sustainable pace.

It’s the righteous anger of betrayal.

I knock at the door, out of custom and general fear that the door will be splintered inwards from a burst of wild magic should she be allowed to touch the door herself.  We don’t have to wait long, and much like this morning, it’s Ser Kara who opens the door, not an attending servant.

“Shauna?” He smiles brightly at her, as though he can’t see the shadow over her eyes and her half made hair, done in haste as we rushed over.  “What are you doing here? You only have a half day today, I would have thought you’d be out on the town.”

He smiles and I can see now that he’s not blind or stupid. He knows my mistress’ rage.  He knows how fucked he is. His levity is all angled at trying to distract her. He hopes to smother the embers with sand rather than risk making a mistake that sends the flames higher.

“Well.” My Mistress moves on her own, letting herself in.  I want to follow, but I’m caught at the entryway. I should be following behind my Mistress at all times, but it’s rather rude to cut in front of the master of the house, let alone to wander in without permission.  Technically, Ser Kara should be leading us into the house, but neither of us seem to be stupid enough to try and bring that up at this moment. He’s at least very understanding, gesturing me in, not looking the slightest bit angered by the turn of events.  

Inside, I can hear my Mistress continuing on.

“I know that my good friend did not just ask me that.  Did not just question my wanderings. Especially my good friend who’s not at all keeping secrets from me.”  Mistress is irritated, and making quite a show of it. She waves her arms around, punctuating each exasperated statement with a flourish.

“Shauna.”  The warning tone in Ser Kara’s voice has me bristling.  He hasn’t made a move yet, and his tone is more mildly inconvenienced than angry, but I can’t really be sure.  I won’t be much help in a fight between mages, but I will defend my Mistress if that’s what it comes to. 

“My good friend who would tell me if he was getting warp totems sold to him off the black market,” she accuses, and I try to keep my eyes on both mages at the same time.

A challenge has been made. One of them is in the wrong, but it’s not clear who yet.  Above all, I have to be ready if either one of them decides that this situation needs to escalate further.  Mistress is breathing hard, still frustrated but no longer the barely concealed ball of rage she had been at the start.  Ser Kara doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t bristle at the accusation, doesn’t fidget or try to lie. He huffs out an exasperated sigh and most of the tension drains from his body.

“I’m not doing anything illegal.  Stars, Shauna, I’m barely doing anything shady!” He denies, tone free of most of the tell-tale signs of dishonesty.  If anything, he seems relieved.  

Blue moves carefully from around the corner in the hallway, poking his head out at all the commotion.  He smiles faintly in my direction, beneath the view of our Masters. Just as quickly as the recognition comes, it passes, and Blue moves slowly around the fight to stand behind his own Master.

I’m relieved at the acknowledgement.  However rocky the grounds were in our first interactions, Blue would make a good friend.  I’m not very good at making them, at being in situations where I’m supposed to interact with others at a casual level.  He’s more forgiving than most, and given that we’re probably going to be seeing a lot of each other, I’m glad. He’s been through more than me, and despite his unwillingness to share, he listens to everything.   Even when I ramble about things I know too much about.

“My good friend who would tell me if he was dabbling in advanced magic.” Mistress immediately changes course, not at all perturbed by the fact she’s been caught in an inaccuracy.  “I certainly wouldn’t have to hear it as a rumor from that big mouth Talor!”

“Shauna,” Ser Kara tries to start, but Mistress cuts him off.

“No, I don’t want to have to hear things about you from the mill, Kara. You mean more to me than that.”  She moves over and sits on the couch, seemingly drained of all the energy that had been driving her up until now.

Ser Kara’s silent for a moment, taking in my Mistress’ suddenly distant demeanor with unease, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet before taking action.

“I’m sorry, Shauna.” He takes a few steps closer, remorseful, but my Mistress does not respond. 

Blue and I are left behind as Ser Kara goes to the couch and with a little hesitation, continues. “I don’t know how I will live with myself.” The words are apologetic, but the tone is lacking as he walks closer and clutches his chest, wiping a tear from his eye that I’m certain was never there. “Oh, oh Stars, how can I live with the shame?  Shauna, I see the light!” Ser Kara falls onto the same couch, right on top of my Mistress.

“Oh, you big oaf.  You’re crushing me!” The response is immediate and my Mistress is back to her lively, animated self.  It doesn’t deter Ser Kara.

“The SHAAAAAAME!” he wails, continuing to push into my Mistress as though he were still falling.

I look over at Blue in confusion, but he simply shrugs at our Masters’ antics, confused, but not concerned.

“You’re forgiven, you dweeb, just get off of me!” Mistress all but screeches, trying to get out from under Ser Kara’s body.

“Ah, thank goodness.” He smiles brightly and allows my Mistress to extract herself from the couch. “However will I repay your kindness?”

“I require cookies!  And perhaps a few of those totems.” She says the last bit quieter, almost to herself.

“What?” Ser Kara’s confusion is obvious in both his tone and face.

I have to say, I’m a little surprised myself.  I didn’t know we were coming over for magic. The closest contact I had had with magic was my previous mistress’ husband, but he’d been a military mage, none of the flair or more temperamental magics of academic magic. I’ve only ever had magic channeled through me, and I’ve certainly never been teleported.  I wonder what it feels like? I wonder if I can ask Blue…

“Well, I take it you didn’t know, but those are some advanced magics.  We aren’t supposed to touch on them for another two years, but you can’t match the convenience…” Mistress trails off a little, leaving the discussion open.

“Shauna…” Ser Kara’s tone insinuates that this is a bad idea, and though I really don’t know the specifics of what they are talking about, I’m inclined to agree.

“No seller would provide for students as young as us, at least not a quality product.  Please! Come on, for me!” Mistress bats her eyelashes in an exceptionally exaggerated plea that I’m fairly certain would break most people.  Ser Kara seems unimpressed by it, though.

“So you came over the second you heard someone saw something weird.” There’s a huff to Ser Kara’s voice, but it’s more resigned than angry.  Now that things have settled down a bit it’s easy to move forward and place myself at my Mistress’ feet. If nothing else, I can serve as a distraction.

Mistress, unlike the one who had me previously, actually enjoys my presence.  She doles out affection in a much less rigid system at least, certainly after that talk Ser Kara and she shared.  She hardly ever reads from the rulebook any more.

Either way, it’s certainly no trouble to kneel at her feet.  In fact, I often find myself seeking out my Mistress even when it hasn’t been requested of me.  There’s a certain safety there. Even knowing that everything I am is in Mistress’ hands, it doesn’t distress me like it had at times with my old mistress. 

Her hand cards through my hair and I find myself gently pressed to lean against Mistress’ leg.  Looking up, I can see that Blue has taken a similar position at his Master’s side, though Ser Kara does seem a little more focused on his guest than his familiar.  The petting is a pleasant sensation, but I do hope Mistress can stay away from my ears while there’s other company. She likes how riled up she can make me in public, but I often just find the whole thing unbearably embarrassing.

Luckily, it seems Mistress has other plans and continues talking with her friend.

“Well, that and we hadn’t talked about what extracurriculars we were going to do!” Mistress pulls out a bundle of fliers and papers of all different eye-catching colors with big swirly fonts, dumping the stack rather unceremoniously in between the two of them.

“Shauna, I don’t know how I feel about this…” Ser Kara begins, but Mistress will have none of his excuses.

“I will not allow you to waste away in some library, ignoring the life around you!”

“I like the library,” Ser Kara says in a rather petulant tone, but takes a flier off the top, grimacing at what must be printed there.

“You dropped one, Master,”  Blue pipes up, and he’s being rather generous.  They’ve dropped a few due to Mistress’ theatrics.  Mistress simply smiles and takes the stack Blue’s made from the fallen papers and starts with the very first one.

“Ooooo, military opportunities!  What do you say, Kara, too been there done that ?” Mistress wiggles the single sheet of paper enticingly.

“Been there?” Blue inquires, ears quirking to a funny angle in his confusion.

“Your Master’s already served his time with our lovely military forces.  That’s why he’s so much older than all of us this year,” Mistress answers, finishing with a sly little grin that says she was happy to be the one who told Blue.  Ser Kara looks a little tense.

“You’re older?” The question slips out before Blue probably thought it all the way through.  He definitely regrets asking the question once it registers that he’s said it out loud. His shoulders go up to his ears and plants his eyes firmly on the ground, as if not being able to see his master means that his master won’t be able to see him.  I cringe with him, remembering the bruises I’d seen at the care center. Mistress said that it was from the market, but surely not all of it could have come from the market’s handling. Even I have a few new bruises from my Mistress. It’s impossible for there to be no growing pains while we adjust to new masters, but I’m not sure what kind of master Ser Kara is.

“I’m twenty-four, Blue,” Mistress explains, “that’s about the average age for the first years.  Your Master is twenty-seven.” And then with a quirked grin, “He’s an old man.”

“Oh, shut up!” Ser Kara jabs as he swipes the paper, crinkling the whole sheet into a nice little ball.  He doesn't seem angry, doesn’t even address Blue for his inappropriate comment. I wonder if he’ll be in trouble after we leave, or if his master simply doesn’t care.

“Either way,” Mistress shrugs, “military opportunities out, assuming you’re done with service Kara?” She leaves it as a question, but it doesn’t seem like she thinks he wants to return to military service.

“Absolutely!” he cries, throwing the paper wad over his shoulder.

It’s hard to reconcile the image I have of Ser Kara with what I know of military mages.  There’s not much in the way of similarities, but then again ,mages would react to military life in a wide spectrum.  Still, he doesn’t seem as strict or rule-oriented as I’m used to.

“There’s a care-and-keeping-of-magical-creatures, magic-sensitive flora and fauna… Oh, flying lessons!  Kara, please?”

“I don’t have to join you in your death wish,” Ser Kara says in monotone. He turns to pet Blue in protest of Mistress’ suggestion.

“Just the first few lessons? Come on!” Mistress plead.

“Blue, you want to grab some tea for us? I have a feeling we’re going to be in it for a while…” Ser Kara addresses Blue, seemingly entirely content to ignore Mistress until she stops talking about flying

Blue nods, looking over to me but twiddling his thumbs, like he wants to ask something.  As it turns out, Blue doesn’t even need to ask. 

“Shauna, would it be ok if Ande went and helped him?  I’m sure between the two of them they could find some of the extra cookies I have laying around.” Ser Kara speaks casually, but at Mistress’ dismissive gesture he smiles at the two of us before shooing us off as Mistress tries to remake her case.

I feel pretty useless following Blue into the kitchen.  I don’t know where anything is, or what I’m allowed to touch, so I just resign myself to standing to one side and watching as Blue pulls out dishes, a teapot, and a kettle and heating the water.

Eventually, there’s nothing left to do but wait for the water to boil, and Blue just looks up at me with a smile.  I don’t know what to say, I’m not terribly good at conversation, but I do know that I should be filling the silence.  Thankfully, Blue eventually takes mercy on me and starts.

“So, your mistress wants to learn to fly, does she?” he asks in a subdued tone.  He’s very tentative, as though he’s not sure if what he’s saying will go over well.  I think it’s a fair question. Flying’s an interesting skill, but not really popular.  I suppose it will be difficult getting me on the back of a broom, though perhaps we could use a carpet.  Either way, it’s going to 

“What’s it like teleporting?” I try not to wince as Blue looks away, shrinking in on himself.  I know I’m blunt and it can sometimes offend people, but it’s not something I’ve ever really had a chance to work on.

“It’s a lot more intense than you think…  there’s this popping sound and it gives me a stomach ache and hurts my head a little.  I’m pretty sure that’s normal. Apparently you get ripped apart and put back together… so, there’s that,”  Blue elaborates.

“That’s… umm…”  I don’t have words.

“Yeah,” Blue continues, seeing my distress, or perhaps he’s just realized that I’m not going to say anything of substance anytime soon.  “I threw up, the first time we did it,” he admits quietly, and that does get a reaction out of me.

I can’t imagine what a disaster that must have been, and I don’t even try to quiet my gasp.  And yet he and his master get along so nicely now. I can’t believe that the incident would be forgotten so quickly, but Ser Kara sits and pets Blue, holding him close without a single shred of resentment to be seen.

“Are.... are you alright?” I ask, a little incredulous at the circumstances.

 “Master says it’s safe.  He’s been doing it since he was a kid,” Blue explains, and I’m struck a little dumb at the fact that Ser Kara’s been doing advanced magic for so many years.  I wonder what kind of family he had that would have pushed him into such complex and dangerous studies. 

“Mistress was very impressed when she heard what her friend could do... But, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, you have to ask more directly,” Blue snips, making me think he’s more aware of the question I want answered than he’s letting me believe.

“I know, just bear with me…” I almost smack myself for the awful phrasing and start again before Blue’s stifled giggle can grow into full laughter. “Is Ser Kara nice?  I know I shouldn’t ask, but what did he--”

“Yes.”  Blue answers without hesitation.  I don’t know what to say to that. He’s been plenty kind to me, so there’s no real way I can disagree, but I am still concerned.  I was there when Blue got punished in front of the rest of the class. I saw, just as well as anyone, that Ser Kara was practiced in discipline.

Blue must see the disagreement brewing in my head because he continues before I can say anything.

  “He’s the kindest and most forgiving Master I’ve ever had, Ande.  I swear sometimes I think I’m going mad, the things he does for me.” He’s saying it to himself as much as to me, eyes gleaming and voice tight. For a long moment I don’t say anything. Blue’s body is tight with tension and I’m worried anything will set him off.  “He’s teaching me how to read,” he says eventually, quietly, as though to himself more than to me.

I was taught the basics in training, enough so I wouldn’t burden my Maser with unnecessary questions, but not much beyond that.  I had forgotten that Blue had been a pet before all this, that it was still how others saw him. Training new skills is something usually left to market discretion, or individual owners will enroll their pets into the programs they want.  I’ve never heard of a master taking the time to teach their pet themselves. Most would have neither the time or the desire.

“I understand.” We fall back into silence as the kettle sings. 

By the time we get back, they’ve moved on from talking through extracurricular opportunities and gone on to something else entirely. Something about classes and books, I’m sure.

The tea goes over well, though it does break the rhythm of the conversation and soon the clink of the teacups rings obscenely loud in my ears.  Mistress would continue speaking if she had any interest at all of continuing the topic…

“So, Kara... There is one more  teensy little thing that I needed to tell you about…” Mistress hedges, with more hesitance than I’ve ever heard her use.

“Alright, who wants to kill me?” His tone is jovial, but he still sets down his teacup, giving Mistress his full attention.

“Genevive,” Mistress rushes out as she shoves her face back into the cup.

“Stars, Shauna, I wasn’t being serious!” Ser Kara puts his head into his hands and Blue just pats his knee, trying to provide as much comfort as possible in this scenario.  I takes a few seconds, but eventually Ser Kara heaves a sigh and looks back to my Mistress. “What the hell did I do to get on her shit list?”

“Apparently you did well.  Not your fault, she just doesn’t like the attention being on someone… else.” Mistress tries to say it in a soothing tone, but there is no denying the implicit dangers.

“Yeah, alright that makes sense,” Ser Kara chuckles to himself, lost for a moment in the absurdity of the whole thing.  I suppose I can understand. He hasn’t done anything to slight this ‘Genevive’, and yet she’s made him an enemy.

“So, that means you’re coming to the ball she’s hosting and invited you to at the end of the month.”  Mistress grimaces at the full body flinch that wracks Ser Kara.

I had heard about the ball, but I’m still not quite sure what to make of it.  I’ve certainly never been taken out to an event as fancy as this is supposed to be.  Mistress and I went out to get clothes and stuff for the event, so at the very least I know I’ll be accompanying my MIstress.

“Stars burn it all, Shauna, that is in two weeks!” Ser Kara exclaims.

“Yup… and very formal so you probably need to spiff up.”  Mistress tries to summon a winning smile. Sadly, her magics are not that advanced.

“She’s planning to humiliate me,” Ser Kara grumbles into his hands, curling in on himself on the couch.

Blue just looks on, patting his Master’s leg in what I’m sure is supposed to be a reassuring gesture.

“I gotta say, I am impressed.  You really pissed her off, she’s throwing a party for the whole grade just to make sure you show up.”  Mistress says popping a cookie into her mouth.

“Because if I don’t-” He groans, slowly putting the pieces together with great pain.

“It would be social death,” Mistress finishes for him.

“Great! Any good news?” he asks, sounding near hysterics.

“She was planning this since yesterday’s show in potions.  Apparently you got her yelled at by a teacher, so kudos. As long as you didn’t do anything to show her up today she might have some time to cool down,” Mistress informs him brightly.

“Oh Stars.” Ser Kara just deflates again, slumping against the couch.

“Well, in other news, I found a great spa.  It’s modeled after those foreign bathhouses, it’s super cool, and they’re giving discounts to students!” Mistress tries to generate some interest from her sullen colleague. 

“Really, a spa…” He peeks out from under his hands, seemingly confused as to why the news of the new bathhouse might dig him out of his grave.

“Well, they have a grooming service for familiars too, that’s kinda why I noticed them.  They dolled Ande up real nice, at least.” She leans in and ruffles my freshly washed hair.  I’m just glad that she didn’t like the ribbons.

“Really?”  Ser Kara addresses the question more to me than my Mistress, but I shuffle forward at her direction and show off their work.

They cleaned just about every inch of me and dusted me with a soft powder that made me smell good.  Aside from the bows in my hair, they also conditioned the dry and damaged hair, chiding me for not taking care of it properly and cutting off the split ends.  Ser Kara seems impressed at least, taking in the change in my appearance with a quirked smile. It makes me glad I saved my favorite bit for last.

  I show off my nails, cut, cleaned, and coated in a shiny lacquer.  They did the same to my feet, but I doubt Mistress would approve of me shoving my feet in her friend’s face.  Regardless, Ser Kara seems impressed, and more than pleased.

“Right… I’ll think about it, Shauna.”

 Mistress smiles when she sees him turn to Blue and run an affectionate hand through his hair.  Somehow, I don’t doubt we will see them there. 

Chapter Text

Kara

By the end of the week I am certain not only that hell is real, but that I’ve accidentally plane shifted to it.  I’m sick of feeling people’s eyes on me, sick of watching every step I make so that I don’t offend the almighty Genevive even more than I already have.  Although, I may be a little less successful at that than I could have been. Old habits die hard, and there is nothing more frustrating to a noblewoman than hating someone that she can’t talk shit about.  So on the surface, absolutely nothing has happened. I haven’t provoked her or done anything to irritate her, but that doesn’t mean I’ve done nothing to upset her.

It’s damaging for her to have to sit there and pretend to be civil in front of all her peers.  She hasn’t found anything on me, and I’m not stupid enough to be rude to her in public. We’ve seemed to mutually agreed to battle this out the noble way, pretending to be sickeningly nice to one another until one of us finds something they can use.

I know I should have just let it go, but the snide smiles and compliments while her friends laugh behind her make my blood boil.  I couldn’t resist the temptation to play. I just hope she still thinks I’m the stupid village boy that I’ve been portraying myself as.  It’s an advantage I sorely need in her world. 

At least the day is over and I can look forward to not seeing her face for a couple of days, her or any of her friends that seem to find our fake amity funny.  

There’s a different attendant at the care center when I go to check Blue out, but he’s so ready to get off his shift, I doubt he really notices me walking past his desk to take Blue.

“Blue?” I try to coax him out of the notebook I’ve been using as his primer, but he hunches his shoulders a bit and the stuttery motions of the charcoal stylus I’ve loaned him end abruptly.

None of his friends are here.  I assume they’ve all been picked up, if their owners even had classes today.  I feel bad that we’re going to have to stay late tonight, but we have a special mission.

“I, um… I was trying to finish the… um.” Blue sets his stylus down to mark the page and closes the book, disappointed, but ready to go.  The walk out is more subdued than usual. There’s no excited chatter about his friends. 

The only thing that’s actually been going well is Blue’s progress.  He’s making strides in his studies, tackling each obstacle with a ferocity that I hadn’t expected.  He’s responding better to casual touches, even going so far as initiating. Though it’s still tentative, it’s some pretty miraculous progress in my eyes.

We did end up trying out several different types of food in search of a favorite, and while pastries are good, he seems to have a preference for savory over sweet.  I’m a little surprised to find that he likes fish when the product we have this far inland is so bland and rubbery. I want to see what he’d think of the fish from a port city. 

 “Blue, you aren’t going to get it all at once.  You’ve been making excellent progress as it is, you should be proud.” I try to sound supportive, but the dark look that comes over his face tells me I've failed miserably.

“I, I just needed a little more time, I --” He tries to defend himself, but I cut him off.

“I’m not entirely convinced you slept last night.”  

He has no response for that.

As well as things are going, there are still things we’re having trouble with.  I don’t know how to talk to him about his nightmares.

“I’m not expecting miracles, Blue.  For your own health, you shouldn’t either.”  I try to make my voice that calm and soothing tone that makes him relax, but all he does is hang his head and slump his shoulders.  I understand he wants immediate results, I just don’t want him to kill himself trying to provide them.

The nightmares have only happened twice, but it makes me wonder how bad the days I’d left him alone had truly gotten.  He’ll twist and whimper, crying out until he hits something solid, usually me. It never takes too long, and he’ll settle once he twists around what he hits.  He hasn’t woken up during one yet, but he gets shaky the morning after. He gets so withdrawn that for hours there is nothing but silence and wary eyes. He ends up sleeping at the care center, his new friends adjusting to the state too well.  He tries so hard not to bother me with his problems that I really don’t know how to bring them up without causing more distress. As much as I’m glad he has people who can help, it frustrates me knowing that I can’t do anything.

Instead, I’ve thrown myself rather fully into all the things that I can do something about.

  I do my classwork with an efficiency even my worst teachers appreciate, I join a club or two that, as Shauna puts it, will get me out into the suns a few days a week, and I start my research for Jet’s little... assignment.

It’s always a mixed bag when researching blight.  Many scholars just blame it on the gods of old and cover up any reasonable assumptions with flowery scripture.  It’s worse in texts from other continents, countries that actually still practice their beliefs in a creator, an architect, or just a smattering of celestial bodies with a heart full of mischief.  A straight answer is impossible, so eventually, I stop looking for a straight answer.

I’m not going to find a perfect row of data, I’m going to find stories and witness testimonies, reports of celestial mages ruining themselves trying to pull down power greater than themselves.  So that’s where I have to start.

The facts remain that in every region, blight strikes differently.  Countries sharing lands within the same regional groups will, accounting for different words, describe the same phenomenon.  But each region is affected differently.

Anything truly great within historical reference is usually a fixed blending of schools.  What can’t be identified has usually been so heavily modified and influenced by other schools of magic that the baser components are tricky to identify.  I just hope that is the case here. The descriptions of the rituals required to call upon the blight are pretty shrouded in mystery, and even artistic representations have fundamental differences that make the spells incompatible with one another.

Every time I try to make connections, something deviates.  I need more data.

The library is all but abandoned on the last day of the school week, with just a few of the graduate students milling about, but I don’t let it discourage me.  What does discourage me is the librarian who, after an hour of searching, tells me the reason I can’t find the book I’m looking for is that it is unavailable. 

“What do you mean the volume is unavailable?” I can hardly keep my confusion out of the words.  I went through the volumes in the catalogue specifically to find the most interdisciplinary form of this research.  It’s outdated, nonspecific, and done up primarily in artistic representations of spellcasting. Who in their right mind would actually check out this book rather than something more up to date? 

“It appears that the text you’re looking for has been checked out but another student,” the librarian responds in a bland voice, telling me what I already know.  It has to be checked out to become unavailable, if it had just been thrown out then it would be an absent volume I’d have to track down at some other library.

“Do you know when they’d be checking it back in?” I try to salvage what’s left of the day.  If I know when the book will be back in, I can just work around this little setback and keep going with my analysis of the soil samples. 

“It says right here on the checkout slip...Indefinitely…” The librarian hums at that, and it’s all I can do to not jump over the desk and read that for myself.  As it is, I can see where the checkout information is listed, the purple ink scribbling out the twelve letters that are currently plaguing me.

“Right, do you know where I could find the person who checked it out?  Really I only need to take a peek. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” I try for my most innocent smile, hoping that the librarian will see me as a harmless little nerd.  I wouldn’t do anything drastic, but I would probably bother them until they give in.

“According to this, Lies.  Oh, lucky you, they’re probably still on campus at this point.  They’re a grad student and have their own lab,” the librarian replies with a smile.  Apparently there are no rules against giving out personal information- either that, or my disarming smile has actually worked for once in my life.

A graduate student.  That makes sense. I’m pretty glad I don’t have to go make a house call.  There’s a huge building on campus for university funded research that’s mostly used by grad students, so I take it that’s where I’m meant to go.  I wonder what this ‘Lies’ could be doing with the book I need. It’s too interdisciplinary to be useful for most things, though perhaps they’re trying to find a better balance for a spell in their own craft.  

Hybrid schools do tend to be stronger, especially when their baser elements are combined.  Despite how different the things you are trying to blend may be from one another, you are still using the same language to describe and define the same universe. They’ll blend without much work, it’s just a matter of figuring out a school of magic that’s foreign.

“Do you know what they study?” I ask.  The university has grants out in every field, so it’s not exactly restricted to a single department.

“Necromancy,” the librarian answers back matter-of-factly, closing the checkout book and packing up. 

Of course they do…

I’ve stayed away from necromancy for seven years. It would be too much to expect that record to continue. 

The graduate studies building is only a short walk from the main campus. It is an imposing structure, a high tower that rivals any other building on campus.  It’s unnerving from the outside, and it doesn’t get any better on the inside. There’s so many wards that my head starts to spin just trying to count them all.  No one in this building has any trust, including the university as many of the runes are simply to minimize damages.

A place of research is also most commonly a place of danger.  I don’t want to go see a necromancer. 

“Master, are you alright?” Blue’s voice wavers and I can see the concern in his eyes.  His body’s drawn as tense as a bowstring, but he’s still walking beside me.

“Y-yeah, Blue, I’m fine…” I try my hardest not to make it a lie.  I should be fine. This is nothing to worry about. Academic magics are different from the results of an unpracticed hand.

There’s no one at the desk up front, but that’s fine, there’s a printed directory at the end of the hall.  Blue points out every “L” in the directory until he comes across the room that’s been taped over and scribbled on.

“Lies” no last name, though it may be printed behind the tape.  Either way, we know where to find this person: fifth floor, Room 533.

   As it turns out, it might as well have said ‘sixth door to the left’ for all their numbering system is good for.  There’s no order, like each student was allowed to pick what their room number would be without considering who they’d be next to.

I knock on the door.  No sense invading a research space when the person’s not even there…

“Yeah, come in!” a voice calls from inside, and I hesitate at the door.  I have permission, I should just go in and ask to see the book. I take a deep breath and open the door.

The room is nothing like what I’d expected.  There’s an intense scent of incense that practically rams into me once the door opens, but other than that, the room is very different.  There are windows for one thing, and though they seem to have curtains that usually obscure them, they are open for now. It’s probably to clear out the incense, but without it I don’t think I could have mustered the courage to step any further in.  The candles are arranged by color and wick type on the desk and five different organizers sit on top of themselves on the other side of the room, presumably for the incense, if the smell is anything to go by. But the most substantial personalization in this room is the casting circle.  It’s been more than chalked into the ground to measure up angles, it’s been inked into the stone, absolutely permanent so that the angles are forever correct without the agony of remeasuring every few spells.

  Papers and document files lay in disarray all over the room along with inks uncapped and scattered.  A pile of papers in the back of the room shifts to reveal a figure hiding beneath, though by the bags under their eyes, they might have just been sleeping. This Lies seems to have more respect for their craft than for their own body.

“And you are…” they ask, tired tone culminating in the form of a yawn.

“Kara, you’d be… Lies, right?” I can't help the doubt in my voice.  The room number was correct, but this is certainly not the image of a graduate level necromancer I’d been imagining.

“You came looking for me, why are you so confused?” Their tone betrays their annoyance, though I can’t say I blame them.  That was pretty rude of me.

“Well, I saw the tape on the directory.  It just seemed an unusual name, is all…” I try to explain myself, but  Lies just narrows their eyes.

“Well, I suppose I can’t say the same for you.  Your parents get caught up in those naming fads?  Feel pretty bad you’ve got to go around with a derivative of one of those brat princes,”  they huff, levering themself upright and brushing off the pieces of parchment that cling to their robes.  Their robes at least match their title as a necromancer, as do the pieces of bone that scatter with the excess pieces of parchment.

“Hey, I was named before that one, my parents were just terribly unimaginative.  Still better than all the twelve-year-olds that have to live with the name Psiep for the rest of their lives.”  

“You make a fair point.” They consider for a half second before nodding back to me.  “So, Kara not-named-after-a-fad, what do you need with me?”

“I actually need a book that you have…” I confess.  Honesty is probably best, I doubt they’d see dishonesty as anything remotely endearing.

“You are going to have to be more specific.” They motion to the piles of books on their chairs and floor.  I wonder if being able to check out books indefinitely is a thing that grad students get to do.

“I figured. Lorenia Corpus, to be exact.  It’s a book on-”

“Yeah, it covers a bunch of different models of ritual practice and casting.  Why do you need it? Need a color by numbers to make sense of your homework?” they chide.

“No, I just need to borrow it for a little bit, compare the diagrams to a special pet project I’ve been working on- ” I try to explain, but I’m cut off by my own scream.  A skeleton has mounted the table and pressed into Lies for an affectionate nuzzling.

“Stars above, Ankh, you scared me!” Lies chasties weakly before giving in and petting the thing where its cartilage ears meet bone.

I can’t help the way I stare, at first at the boney cat, but then at Lies as I process their words.

 “What?” they ask, the cat twitching its tail to punctuate the curt tone.

“You… curse like a Visali.  I was just, sorry, I thought you were from Durian,” I say, stumbling over my words.

“I am, but I get enough weird looks for my pale ass skin, more when I’m throwing up curses to the Architect,”  they explain, dismissing their...experiment from the desk with a wave. I suppose that makes sense. There’s enough to adjust to in a new place without people being able to tell you’re not like them at a glance.

“You make a fair point.  Do you… have a dem-” I try to ask, but they cut me off

“Yes I have a demon, no he’s not around,” they deadpan, staring straight into my eyes as if wanting me to challenge the statement.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just...  When I was over there I thought the whole thing was really cool, but I never really got a chance to see them,” I try to apologize.

I suppose it was a pretty rude question.  I don’t remember a lot from Durian, but I do remember the demons.  There were so many different kinds, and at the time I couldn’t really ask many questions.  They were just so fascinating.

They aren’t very different in practicality to familiars.  They serve their masters and get used for spells, but it was the whole process of getting them here that interested me.  They weren’t just beings that existed on this plane, they had to be pulled through the veil.

“You were in Durian?” That little slip seems to have caught their interest.  There’s no shame in playing it up. I need them to like me if I’m ever going to get a look at their book.

“Yep, quite a few years ago,” I hedge carefully, I certainly haven’t been to Durian recently, so I can’t act as though I might be able to know someone they might.

“What were you doing, if I may ask?” they counter, suspicion piqued.

The truth isn’t a problem, just a bit shameful if the right person got ahold of it.  I doubt Lies is the kind of person to go around gossiping. Even still, it’s unlikely that the kind of person who would be anything less than perfectly presentable in the lab would run in the same circles as Genevive.

“If you can keep a secret, flipping burgers at a cute mom-and-pop diner,” I confess, unable to come up with any reasons that make Lies a bigger threat.

“You’re kidding me.” They laugh, and I feel somewhat relieved that my assumption was correct.  

Anyone even remotely respectable would have backed away slowly like I was trash on the curbside.

“Nope, you can go just about anywhere so long as you know how to make a decent burger.” It’s mostly true anyways, made my way through nine countries on the concept at least.

“So… you went to have somewhere to go?” They sound exasperated, and for good reason, I suppose.  I’ve pretty much blown off their home country.

“Nah, eccentric magic is pretty well accepted there.  I wouldn’t have been able to learn half the stuff I know now if it hadn’t been for that little trip.” And that’s mostly true.  I sure as hell didn’t choose Durian on a whim. The magic was a happy little accident, but I don’t have any other reason to be there that would make sense to them.

“Yeah, not everywhere in the whole world is as repressed as this place.” 

I don’t have anything to say against that.  They are right, especially considering Durian.  Magic isn’t relegated to specific shows of power, high class accessories, or highly controlled projects.  There’s nothing in Durian that keeps a new mage from being able to experiment and learn, hone their craft and better themselves.

“Did you finish your Hu-Anai, or do you just have a demon for school policy?” I try to force myself out of reflecting on the past.  I didn’t get to ask before, but I remember some vague bits about the summoning ceremony. It’s a coming of age thing for mages that want to dedicate themselves to the craft.  Technically, it’s blood magic, a call into other dimensions based on the signature of the magic.  

“I… I didn’t do  my Hu-Anai, I left home before I could, but my demon, he’s the kind my uncle had.  I called out for it during the summoning, and got stuck with him.” They smile, apparently not too dismayed with the result.

“That’s amazing, I didn’t know you could do that.”

“What about yours? Where’s your familiar?” they ask.

“Oh, Blue is-” I turn behind me to introduce him, but he’s not there.  I have a second-long heart attack before I find him on the other side of the room, kneeling in front of that skeleton cat.

“Blue, what are you doing!” I don’t know if it’s ok to touch the thing, let alone if it’s safe.

“I, I’m sorry, he was just confused.” Blue offers by way of an explanation, not that it helps. There’s no one here but us.

“Who?” Lies asks, apparently as bewildered as I am.

“Ankh.  He was wondering if I got stuck in too big a body too.”  Blue looks up at me with wide, honest eyes, and I’m sure at this point that I’ve just lost my mind.

“Wait, what?” Lies is just as confused as I am, but Blue just strokes a careful line down Ankh’s back, wary of his sharp spine.

“Blue, are you telling me that you can talk to that?” I point to the pile of bones that’s swishing its tail in a far too confident manner.

“Most, um… felines all have the same base in communications.  It’s pretty simple to talk between us,” Blue explains 

“Oh Stars!” Lies takes Blue’s face and squishes his cheeks between their hands. “Tell me what he says!”  they demand.

“Oh, no, he was just complaining about the new bones.  He was a... Corndian Rex, and he still hasn’t properly adjusted to the extra reach that his new form allows.”

Stars above, the thing’s soul isn’t even back in a familiar host.  I feel my skin crawl at the very thought. My mind flashes through memories of incorrect sigils and misaligned runes.  It’s dangerous to put souls into the wrong body, or call for too general a soul. The wrong body or soul can be agony for the being called into it.  The being could be blinded or deafened to the world around them, in excruciating pain, trying to settle into a body that rejects it.

The animated pile of bones seems unbothered by this, however, and simply meows to Blue until his face goes pink.

“And, he says he needs more of the turkey treats…” Blue translates haltingly.

“Nebekanezer, get over here!” Lies calls before turning back to Blue. “Can you do it again?” they ask, voice firm,  promising something bad should Blue lie.

“Um… yes…” Blue whispers, not quite so confident as he was before.  

“Blue, it’s not a test.  They just want to be sure.” I try to be reassuring.  The fear is probably just some misplaced concern that what Lies wants, he cannot provide.

“This is groundbreaking!” Lies exclaims, picking up Ankh and spinning him around the room.

“Blue, do you feel comfortable playing translator?”  Blue’s caught up in Lies’ little joy parade, but he doesn’t look too uncomfortable anymore.  I just want to make sure he’s ok with being used as a translator. I just want him to know he has the option to say no.

“Yes, Master.  I’ll try to be as helpful as possible,” he practically purrs, not taking his eyes off of the affection so obviously passed between Lies and their experiment.

“Seriously, this is perfect, I need this kind of data. You have no idea how hard this stuff is to find, there’s practically nothing on what kind of soul you pull forth in summonings, this data will be instrumental to my project, and you can look through that book you needed while you wait. Ok?” Lies is one bouncing pile of energy, as ready to make progress in their research as I am. 

 I don’t see any harm in it.  Blue’s just going to do some talking, translating back and forth, it’s nothing dangerous.  Still, I feel bad saying yes without even asking what Blue thinks of the whole situation. I can’t imagine talking to souls in the wrong bodies for an indeterminate length of time. 

When I look, Blue simply nods, throwing a smile my way before turning back to… what I can only assume to be Nebekanezer. He is seemingly not as bothered by this whole turn of events as I am.

“Alright…” I relent.  Blue doesn’t need me constantly babying him.  If he says he’s ok with this then I have to trust him.  I busy myself by going over to the desks to sort through piles of books, trying to find the data I need.

Chapter Text

Kara

Leaving Lies’ chamber is a lot easier than finding it, especially after they start cackling and moving through their papers babbling about their next experiment.

“Well, that went well,” I mutter to myself, ushering Blue out the door with as much stealth as I can muster.  I’m pretty sure it’s a wasted effort in the end. Lies is so distracted that I could be banging cymbals all the way out the door and they still wouldn’t have noticed.

“You… got what you needed then?”  Blue asks when we’ve stepped away from the door.  I haven’t, not really, but then again I wasn’t exactly expecting to find a ‘cure blight’ poultice recipe in the index.  It had been amazingly helpful, though. Many of the illustrations put the historical artistic interpretations into new contexts.  The necrotic ones Lies had bookmarked were exceptionally precise, especially with all the notes on the loose leaf pages inside.

Lies had made note of the embellishments along the murals and actually linked them to more simple spell preparations.  There were notes on where to place incense, how you draw the circlet liner, the time of year- all immeasurably important things that would have just been known back when the murals were put up.  The common knowledge everyone was assumed to have was left without definition, and then we all managed to forget in a couple hundred years and we have to relearn it all again. It’s so simple an interpretation, it’s pretty ingenious.

“Yeah Blue, they had a lot of useful information.  How did your… experiment with Lies go?” I don’t know any other way to phrase it.  He had been basically acting as a lab assistant. I know I shouldn’t be worried but I’d been awfully distracted the entire time we’d been in there, and while I’m sure he would have called for help should the situation have reached that point, I still have to check.  

Blue doesn’t seem disturbed or even truly nervous for that matter.

“It went well, I think.  I was just asking and translating things…”

I can feel the hesitance in his voice.  There’s something he wants to say, and it’s taking nearly all of his power not to say what he wants to.  Stars, did I miss something in there? He didn’t seem this tense around Lies before. Did they do something to him?

“Blue, you know… you can tell me anything, right?” His cheeks color and his hands go down to play with the too-low hem of his shirt, but he says nothing, lips pressed into a hard line as he looks away.

I suppose I did promise we’d get some shopping done once the weekend rolled over.

“You want to go pick up some new clothes?” I ask, trying to ignore the warm and traitorously amorous feeling in my chest when his ears perk up and swivel in my direction.

“I… I already have-” He tries to answer, but I cut him off before he can say he’s fine.

“Blue, you have clothes that don’t fit your body type and barely fit you.  I promised we’d get some clothes this weekend anyway. Plus, we need something to wear to Genevive’s little party,” I divulge a little dourly.  I’m not excited for her party next week, but I do have to put my best foot forward. At the very least, I have to try to make a good impression on all of my other peers.

“I just, you want to go all the way down to the market now?” Blue bites his lip, hesitance spilling into his voice.

“Why not now?” I question.  There’s no real difference between going now and going tomorrow morning, aside from the possibility of getting to sleep in.

“Well, the market… it’s different at night…” Blue hedges cautiously.

  I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, and I sure as hell don’t want to put him in a dangerous situation.

“What do you mean, different?”

“The crowd is more… lively…” Blue offers, restrained but not scared, barely even nervous.

“I think we can survive an excited crowd, Blue.” I smile and throw my arm around him.

How bad could a crowd be?

As it turns out, what Blue meant by ‘lively’ was the enormous crowd that comes in for the night auction.

I remember that a few of the cages had been marked when Shauna and I had first come here.  The higher profile items are only sold on the auction stage, and the show apparently attracts a lot of traffic.

Luckily, it’s pretty easy to dodge the excited customers and make our way down to the clothing and supply vendors on the other side of the market.  

There are plenty of little shops that have outfits, but I try to use some of the tricks Shauna’s taught me to pick out a good place.  I settle on a shop with wide swaths of fabric hanging in layers along the walls and a sign that boasts their tailoring services. There are plenty of premade outfits set aside by size, and even some fancier stuff in the back.  It seems like a nice place, though we will have to go to another vendor in order to find some accessories, and perhaps some of the makeup that Blue’s so proficient with.

“Think this is a nice place?” I ask quietly, trying not to be overheard by the man tending the register.

“I believe so, Master,” Blue whispers back, taking darting glances up at the room around us.

I wonder if he’s ever been to a place like this, and if he’s ever picked out clothes for himself or if he was just given things to wear by his owners.  The only thing I intend to have an input on is his outfit for the ball. We have to match, that much goes without question, but the better I can dress him up, the less painful the night will be.  

There are all manner of accessories that come with different forms of dress.  The idea of showing off accessories does not escape my comprehension, and I am rather painfully aware that Blue is my most visible accessory.  People in fancy places will do all they can to show off bracelets and pearls and rings made of stones from all around the country, but they are all meant to do the same thing: impress and dazzle. Even in formal army wear the uniforms are all the same, but the highest generals all wear their ribbons and medals to show off in the language of their peers.

Blue moves slowly to the racks, sorting through the clothes to find things both made for him and in his size.  None of the attendants bother him, and I do watch them for a while. Maybe it’s normal for familiars to get their clothes themselves.  I just didn’t want a repeat of what happened at Mr. Hardale’s place.

He chooses a few things, and before he has a chance to speak I move over to the fitting rooms with a few extra choices of my own. Someone at the other side of the store snorts.  Maybe it’s not normal for owners to be the ones carrying, but I could care less.

“Blue, you didn’t pick nearly enough,” I sigh once we’ve made it into one of the tight little rooms.  He really hasn’t, there’s only a few hangers.

“I… I didn’t know what you… wanted,” he whispers, ducking his head and moving his hand to scratch at the inside of his wrist.  It must still be tender, because his own flinch brings him out of it before I have a chance to interject.

“Blue, just everyday stuff.  We have to get fancy stuff too, but I want you to pick out what you’re going to have to wear most of the time,” I try to explain.  His ears give an acknowledging twitch, but he doesn’t say any more, and certainly doesn’t pick up his head.

He’s not this shy with me about most things anymore.  And we’ve gone clothes shopping together before, with worse results, but something tells me that isn’t it.  He’s been acting strange all day. Well, not all day, but ever since we left…

“There’s something bothering you.  It’s been bugging you since Lies. What’s wrong?” My voice is hard, and it’s as close to a command as I think I can go without issuing an actual order.

“Well, I… um,” he stutters, interlacing his fingers and studying the process like he’s never seen it before.

“Blue.”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” he whispers back, biting his lip after he’s said it.  He’s not quite looking me in the eyes, but at least he’s looking up at me. 

“Blue, I won’t get mad, just tell me what’s on your mind.” I heave an exasperated sigh and sit down on the bench in the corner.

“Well, I… When you were talking to Lies, um, Ser Lies, was it true?” he asks, eyes bright with curiosity.

“What?” As sweet and brave he is for asking his question, I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“The part where you went to Durian and… flipped burgers,” he explains, ears drooping before he settles on the floor in front of me on his knees.

He looks like a child about to be told a story, but I know the move is one of self-preservation.  Just in case he’s offended me, he’s already moved to a good groveling position.

Oh well, at least his question makes sense.  He’s probably never had a Master who so casually admitted to lower dreg behaviors- especially work.  I get why that would be confusing.

“Yeah, Blue, that’s true.  Though it would probably be best if you didn’t go around saying that.”

“I understand that, Master, but-” Blue continues, shuffling closer before cutting himself off.

“But?” I prompt

“I… forgive me, but... you said you’d done it plenty of times,” he says cautiously, chewing his bottom lip as he does.

“Yup, worked my way through nearly the whole continent, and a few places off,” I admit, thumbing his lip away from the abuse he seems determined to put it through. His bottom lip is pink from his nervous habit, and sinfully soft.

“Why?” Blue’s question startles me out of a rather inopportunely timed reminiscence of his offer a few nights ago.

Now this is the tricky part.  I don’t want to lie, but I really don’t want to tell the truth either.  There are so many thousands of things that can go wrong, not the least of which is losing all the progress we’ve managed to make together.

“I needed it.”  It’s not that much of a lie, and I try to comfort myself with that. “It was- well, at the time I just needed to… broaden my horizons.  I grew up pretty sheltered and I needed to… get out.” I try to end that conversation there, but Blue continues.

“Your family didn’t attend with you?” he asks cautiously.  I know a fishing question when I hear one. I’ve only let one thing slip about my family so far, and it’s plain to see that Blue is curious. 

“No… my older brothers, they were… busy with different things and Dad had… a lot of work to do.  The trip was kinda spur of the moment anyway.” My voice seems very far away from me the more I speak.

“Your, um-” Blue tries before I cut him off.

“My family doesn’t talk to me, Blue.  They don’t want to, and they were really just waiting for me to fuck up big enough for them all to have an excuse not to ever again.”  It comes out more harshly than I’d intended, but I haven’t been forced to think about them in a long time.

  It’s not precisely true.  Jet still wants to talk to me, and the others… well, they probably haven’t thought about me since I left.  You can’t hate someone if you don’t ever think about them.

“I’m sorry,” Blue whispers, shoulders hunched and head down.  I can practically see the thoughts in his head bouncing around, worry that he’s offended me and terrible calculations for the end times.

“I wasn’t the son they wanted, not really, and they had plenty of extras.  They didn’t care to come looking for me and I didn’t care to be found.” I try to appease him. There really isn’t anything more to say, but I talk more to Blue than almost anyone else.  A few extra words to make him feel safe aren’t going to hurt.

“Is that why you live… away from your family?” he asks, deftly avoiding the word ‘alone’, which would be accurate, or at least would have been.

“That would actually be my Aunt’s doing.  Well, not my Aunt, she’s just… She’s not actually related to me, not really, but the house is hers.  She doesn’t need it and didn’t want to sell it, so she’s letting me stay there.” 

“Right…” he says, and nods to himself before going to the other side of the room and taking one of the outfits off the hanger to try on.  I’m about to object to him stripping down in front of me, but there’s really no exterior to these rooms, no place for me to wait so he can come out when he’s done.

I try my damndest not to watch as he changes.  I’ve seen him naked plenty of times, so I don’t know why it’s such a big deal now.  Either way, I get pains in my chest over some of the slower healing bruises and Blue’s still painfully thin figure.

Blue gives a spin in the clothes and it’s only now that I realize that it’s an outfit that I picked.  That, and Blue still looks a little uncertain after our whole chat.

“Blue, don’t look so glum.  You like this one?” I ask with a wide and stupid grin on my face.  I read somewhere that if you smile it’s more likely to make others around you smile.  It’s always my last resort, but I’ll look goofy if it makes him smile.

“This one fits well,” he answers, not reacting to my silly face.

“But do you like it?” I try again, hoping he just misinterpreted the question.

“The color is nice.” He deftly avoids the question again and my smile droops.

“Blue…” I try to get a rise out of him, calling him with a lilting tone, but his eyes don’t budge from the floor.

I wonder if it’s something I’ve done.  Perhaps it would have been better if we came in tomorrow, maybe this is just too much for him.  Then again, a day won’t make much of a difference with the discomfort he’s in. His hands play with the soft trim at the bottom hem.

Even though he looks singularly uncomfortable he still started with my choices, not his own.  I’m not different in his mind. It’s hard to remember that, but I’m not any different from the other bastards who’ve owned him in the past.  He expects to be dressed up like a doll, dressed to please other people and have his own wishes ignored. There’s not much independence in having to clear every choice he makes with me.  I suppose he doesn’t know that I’d move the stars and the land for him if he’d ask. He wouldn’t ask, he wouldn’t believe I’d do anything.

I take a pouch and fill it with coin before pressing it into his hands.

“What’s this for?” he asks, looking up at me, a bit startled.

“I will get anything you like, but if you feel uncomfortable asking me for something… Look, it’s your own personal fund, ok?” I explain badly, but I hope that at least some of the sentiment came across.

“I…” he begins, but I cut him off with a horrible realization.

“Will the people here be weird about you carrying coin?” I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about that! I don’t know if it’s improper to allow familiars to carry coin or conduct market trade.  

“No, I doubt it.  Not with this collar,” he says, watching me closely from the side of his eye.

“What does the collar have to do with anything?” I ask, sitting back down and motioning for him to try something else.  I make a mental note not to take the outfit he’s wearing. If he liked it, he would have been able to come up with something better than ‘the color’s nice’.

“Well, it’s… It says that I’m important to you, that you trust me.”  His voice is muffled by the shirt over his head, but I can still hear the words.  Not that hearing clearly means it’ll make sense.

“What do you mean?” I let my enquiry hang in the air and put a hand over my eyes, trying to give Blue the barest semblance of privacy.

“Well, you know how all the other familiars have metallic collars, all those fancy little designs.” He begins slowly, as though he’s not sure exactly how much he needs to explain, but doesn’t want to offend.

“Yeah,” I offer, trying not to sound indignant about it.  I had seen the pretty metal collars the other familiars had, though I have no idea where they got them.  I hadn’t seen them at the market yet, though maybe I’m just looking in the wrong place.

“Some of them have soft insides and other embellishments, but they all… You go to a special shop and have them weld the outside down,” he explains in a tone too calm for what he’s describing.

“Wait, wait, the collars get welded?  Isn’t that dangerous?” I can’t help but interrupt.  The process can’t be safe… sounds like a nightmare.

“It really only gets you if you move…” he hedges, but that doesn’t calm me.

“That is not reassuring!” I dryly voice my concerns.

“Either way, my collar is entirely leather.  It even has a buckle that I could take off without permission if I wanted. It’s you saying that you trust me,”  Blue explains

“I didn’t…” I didn’t know what it meant, that it held such significance, but it doesn’t change anything, not really. “I do trust you, Blue.  I’m glad you know that.” 

 I am certain I can feel my heart breaking from the sweet little smile he gives me in return.  I give myself a mental shake and get to my feet.

 “Now come on, we need to get you more clothes, and... um, how do you feel about make-up?”

As it turns out, Blue actually does know a lot about make-up and the many different kinds.  The vendor is all too helpful in finding things that would suit Blue’s unique coloration, though I draw the line when he is being a little too eager while testing out some colored glosses.  We go through a few vendors before we actually find one ready to not molest Blue in the beautician’s chair. We leave with a bigger bag than we should have for what we got before I realize that Blue must have actually taken my proposition seriously and bought something for himself while I was getting some cream.  Now it’s off to the harder part.

Jewelry.

It’s only really an issue because I don’t know what to do.  I figure it’s best to keep it simple and just get something pretty and versatile, but the issue is that there’s really no way I can leave it up to Blue.

Luckily, I see him admiring a set of earrings after I’ve picked out a set of gem inlaid hair pieces.  I swipe them from where they sit.

“You have piercings?” I ask, far more amused at the discovery than I should be.  I can’t believe I didn’t notice, though I do suppose it’s made a little more difficult by all the fur.

“Y-yes.  Master, please, I-” He stutters but I ignore all protest as I make a beeline for the attendant.

  I won’t let him try to convince me that he wasn’t looking at the piece or interested in them, as he plainly was.  I’m just glad I could get something for him as well. Glad of that, and of the fact that we’re finally done here.

I can’t wait to go home.

Chapter Text

Blue

Master does nothing to hide his exuberance at being home.  It’s not a whoop of joy as he runs through the door, it’s more subtle than that.  He breathes easier once he’s walked through the doorway, setting the bags he’d insisted on carrying down by the stairs.  There’s a weight that comes off him that only seems truly present when we’re out.

There is little fanfare in much of what Master does.  The longer I’m around him the more clearly I can see that.  He’s not like most mages, or even aspiring socialites. He’s most comfortable without an audience, doing the actual work that most only play at.

I can see the day’s wear on him, and I can see how hard he’s trying not to let it show.  

“Blue, I cleared out a couple of drawers for your new things upstairs.  You can put your stuff wherever you’d like. Change your clothes and come down when you’re ready, ok?” Master smiles, playing chipper, but there is something that’s been bothering me since the jewelry store.

“Master… is there anything, um… in particular that you’d like from me?” I stutter, trying to find the right words.

“I’m excited to see you in things that actually fit,” he says, mumbling something under his breath  like it took longer than it should have as he turns away.  He slides off his shoes and makes his way to the kitchen.  He’s probably off making some tea. It affects me more than I think it should that I assume there will be a cup for me as well.

The bags aren’t all that heavy, but it is quite a bit more than I ever thought we were going to end up with.  It’s more than I’ve had at other places. Clothes were more like costumes, especially in my later houses, things to wear for amusement, interchangeable between pets.  Even still, Master has stayed away from the more traditional outfits I’m used to, the kinds with lots of lace and ruffles and not much else, the kind that Avery has.

Which makes Master’s words all the more confusing. I’m excited to see you in things that actually fit. I know that the clothes I’ve been wearing have been… unflattering at best. I don’t have many assets, but my striking coloration and body have long been my best traits.  I haven’t been a very impressive familiar, barely even an impressive pet. Everything is still strange and new and despite myself, I find myself forgetting my place more frequently than I should.

What’s worse, Master doesn’t correct me.  He doesn’t punish, he doesn’t get mad, he’ll barely even address my failings.  I don’t think he understands what proper behaviour is supposed to be. Though I’m fairly certain this is his version of breaking me in, it’s gentler, slower… like breaking in a pair of shoes.  The more I think about it, the more apt the analogy is. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of “breaking” or making any real changes to me or my training, he’s just pushing at the edges, moulding me slowly but constantly into the shape he wants.

I chuckle to myself, pulling out the pre-folded articles and recalling the heated debate he’d gotten into with the shop attendant over a pair of shorts.  He’d argued that the shorts marked in my size couldn’t possibly be correct, given how short and tight they were. I couldn’t tell if he was being obtuse on purpose or not.  Either way, the face the attendant made was priceless.

He’s cleared out the two bottom drawers of his dresser for me, more than enough room to stash all the new purchases.  I lay down the clothes, easily identifying each article by the exposed fabric. It doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve never been so present in the process of picking out my clothing.  Usually that’s something left for the steward, at my Master’s discretion. Most of the time I wouldn’t have a clue what I’d be wearing until I was handed a bundle with orders to change, but knowing… I can’t help the warm feeling that pools in my chest.

These aren’t just clothes, they’re my clothes.  Clothes that I helped pick, that I’ll get to wear.  

I set the glass makeup bottles on the top of the dresser to join a mostly empty jar of cream and some powders.  I’m glad to have the familiar substances, but it leaves a somewhat unsettled feeling in my chest. The time I’ve spent with this Master is the longest I’ve gone without the protective mask of pigment, at least since my Masters had begun to expect that I wear it in their presence.  It’s always left me fragmentally detached. No matter what was being done, what I was expected to do, the face I wore was never my own.

I wonder if it will feel the same again.  

I rub away an unnoticeable smudge on the glass surface of one of the bottles.  The whole scene feels weird before I realize what exactly is off: the bottles take up more space on the dresser than they should. 

 If I’m brutally honest with myself, I’m still amazed that Master hasn’t thrown me out.  I’m constantly taking too much, too much of his space, time, resources. I don’t understand him.  I don’t understand what he sees in me.

My bottles crowd the space on the dresser, no matter how many times I rearrange them. There’s more bottles than there should be taking too much space, especially against the only three jars that make up Master’s things.

It wasn’t like this at other houses.

For one thing, I would never have spent so much time in a master’s sleeping chamber, or been expected to keep personal effects there.  Pets usually had a shared space full of mirrors and constant glittering lights with rows of these little bottles to share amongst ourselves.  I’ve never had any of my own. My odd coloring meant that only a few others would use the same materials, but nothing was ever truly mine, ever exclusively for my own personal use.

It’s overwhelming.

Perhaps that’s why I got the extra bottle when Master was looking for some cream for himself.  I feel childish trying to keep it a secret, but I hadn’t seen the shimmery powder in almost three years. The pure nostalgia for the gold tinted dust made me reach for it, though I wasn’t sure that Master would appreciate it as much as I did.

I know I shouldn’t, but I find myself applying the tiniest amount to my fingertips just to lap at the sweet powder.  It’s supposed to go all over the body, make the skin soft and leave the tiniest bit of shimmer, leaving a sweet taste should anyone kiss or lick where it’s been applied.  There’s no event happening today to warrant putting it on, I’m not even expected to service Master tonight. At least, I thought I wasn’t.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to use the treat until I saw Master sorting through the jewelry, taking the rings I’d been eyeing.  The gems he’d chosen are a hard crystalline blue cut into geometric flowers, splayed out around thin, shifting pieces of silver filigree that I’m fairly certain are meant to be braided into the hair.  It’s pretty and delicate and it’s all I can do to wrap it back up in the protective paper and store it in the drawer next to everything else.

I don’t know why we were in the jewelry shop. I haven’t been worthy of adornments for a number of years, but perhaps this party business has been really getting to him.

 The other piece from the jewelry store is very different from the hair piece.  Just holding them, I feel my face go red.  

They are pretty and have the same delicate look as the hairpiece, but this piece is definitely more casual, clearly designed for everyday wear.  The barbell is silver and glittery beads hanging down are the same deep, cool blue- at least the color scheme stayed consistent. It’s been a long time since I’ve had personal jewelry, but whenever I have been presented with a gift like this I was expected to show my appreciation and wear my new gifts.

Which makes Master’s words all the more confusing. I’m excited to see you in things that actually fit. He’s made himself clear that he doesn’t expect me to service him, but I don’t know where that really leaves us.

He’s had me in his bed ever since that, but he’s made no move to make use of me, even though I can feel his arousal most mornings. I wonder if I’ve done something to displease him, or if it’s just something I am.  He feeds me more than he should, and has made no effort to adjust that. He’s put us on a mission to find my “favorite food”, going out of his way to cook everything from elaborate selections to simple dishes. But I didn’t miss the way he was watching my mouth when I tongued a little too enthusiastically at an olive, trying to force the colorful insides from the fruit.  Maybe I’m too thin for his liking. I pinch at my side. I’ve put on flesh since I got here, but that isn’t saying much. My ribs still show through my skin, and I still bruise easily, though Master handles me like I’m glass. 

I wonder if this is meant to change something about us. Things that actually fit.  I wonder if he meant my position.  I’m not doing… anything, really, to show off the status that Master’s awarded me.  Maybe it’s to remind me of my place? To advertise to his peers that he really does know what I’m for?

It doesn’t matter what it means, what he meant or what I think it means.  No matter what, Master wants me to wear these, he told me to. 

The metal is cold, but not biting, and it’ll warm against my skin with time anyway.  The piercings are still there, even after three months with nothing in them, and as the cool metal slides against my nipple, the flesh peaks and I have to stifle a groan.   I’m thankful that I won't be sharing jewelry again. The beads rest cooly against my body. They aren’t weights or meant for anything more than to look pretty, and I am thankful. I’ve always been sensitive.

I hadn’t expected him to pick these.  Hell, I didn’t expect him to take an interest in these at all.  His mischievous smile as he snatched them from before my eyes proved me wrong.

Regardless of any implications, I like them.  I know it’s not my place to decide that, but I take the time to check how they look in the mirror and I can’t deny their aesthetic value.  My right nipple’s just a little pink from the struggle of finding the proper place to slide in the barbell, but aside from that I have no complaints.

There are no shirts that will actively display the new accessory, I wonder if that’s by design.  If he’d rather not show off the piercings, and be the only one who knows about them. I choose some loose fitting fabric overtop.  It will have to do as I pad back downstairs to find my Master.

As it turns out, Master hasn’t gone far.  He’s settled into his chair in the living room, leafing through a book.  I don’t want to disturb him, but I remind myself that I have orders to come down once I’ve changed, and presumably show him my new accessories.

“Um…” Master looks over before I have time to think of anything else to say.  His eyes widen as he takes in the state of dress I’m in, or rather, the state of undress.  He doesn’t look angry or even upset, and I thank the Stars that I was right to show off the new adornments that Master had gotten me.

“Do… do you like them?” Shoulders hitched high, voice wavering and uncertain, my whole body tense like a bowstring, I am most definitely not the attractive picture I was hoping to be. 

Master, for what it’s worth, doesn’t seem to mind my internal struggle, ignoring it completely in favor of looking a fair bit shocked and concerned. 

I’m just glad disgust isn’t apparent on his face as well.  The decision to forego a shirt seemed a good idea at the time, if a bit shortsighted.  Many of my less attractive features are on display along with the new accoutrement.

“Does that hurt?” Master asks, and I have to smile, ducking my chin to my chest, trying not to be a blathering idiot.  Of course that would be the first thing he’d ask, my forever kind and considerate Master.

“N-no,” I stutter out eventually, once I’m sure I can speak without giggling, “they don’t hurt, they’re just -- hyn!” I’m taken by surprise when Master’s finger comes to touch the beads and graze the sensitive skin above. “… sensitive,” I try to explain, face going red as I try desperately not to think about the strange noise I’ve just made.

“Oh, sensitive, are they?” Master chuckles warmly, pressing his thumb and forefinger on opposite sides of the barbell, careless of the pebbling flesh they brush against.

Master’s hands are warm and the pads of his fingers are far too stimulating as they drag over my nipples to be fair.

“Aren’t you cold?  The metal here’s chilly,” he drawls, mischievous grin fully in place as he pulls one arm around my waist, guiding me to sit straddling his lap while his other hand still incessantly plays with the piece of jewelry.  

I go with him, following the gentle guidance until I’m settled on top of him.  It’s improper and I really should say something, but I can’t bring myself to care.  Not when he’s being so clever playing with my chest. It takes everything I have to stifle my pitiful moaning, though Master puts a stop to that with a sharp tug, making me cry out more in surprise than in pain.  It makes me open my eyes though, and I see Master looking at me expectantly.

It takes me a second to cast my mind back and find that he had in fact asked me a question.

“Just a l-little bit,” I try to mumble as steadily as I can, because those clever fingers still haven’t stopped .

“Oh, we can’t have that now, that would be terribly irresponsible of me.” He grins, and before I can say that he’s doing just fine warming the metal in his hands, he takes the ring- peaked flesh and all- into his mouth.  It’s hot and wet and when his tongue come to play with the bead and drag against my skin there’s a low keening noise that takes me a second to recognise as myself.

“M-master, please…” I don’t know how to finish the cry, if I’m asking for more or a reprieve, but before I can figure it out, Master has stopped.

“Blue, Blue, are you alright?” he asks, tone nowhere near as breathless as it should be.

“Yes, I’m-” I try to reassure him, but he cuts me off.

“Blue, wake up!”

I wake up floundering, every bit as disoriented as I think I have the right to be, given the circumstances.  My mind is a messy haze as my head spins and I struggle to process exactly what’s happening and why it’s nighttime already.  I’m on the wrong side of the bed, and achingly hard.

“Blue are you ok?” Master asks, concerned but not as angry as he should be considering I’m disturbing his sleep.

I want to go back, to sleep, to where we stood fifteen minutes ago, I’ll take anything really.

“Uh, y-yes. I-I’m fine, I just-” I mean to say more but I pitch forward instead.  My head is not fully on my shoulders, but at least it’s calming its spin.

“Blue, your pupils are dilated.  Did you eat anything weird?” Master’s hands are the only thing keeping me upright.

“I… er, I don’t....” I try to answer, or at least regain my bearings, but I haven’t eaten anything weird.  We ate the same thing for dinner, and the only thing we didn’t both eat was. “The honey dust!” I nearly shout, forgetting both where and who I’m with.

“The what?” Master questions, clearly confused, and it’s a rather great effort to remember that I bought it behind his back.

“The, I bought some honey dust!  It’s a sweet, um… body powder…” I try to explain through my rising mortification.

He goes over to the dresser and fiddles with the bottles until he finds the right one, examining it for a moment before raising a brow and turning back to me.

“And you just ate this?” he questions critically.

“I just had a little…” I try to defend myself, but even to my own ears it sounds weak.

“Blue, can you read the red print on the bottom for me?” He holds up the bottle so I can see the red etching near the bottom that I hadn’t seen before.

“Uh, cau- caut-” I fight with the letters, trying to pronounce all of them and still come up with something recognisable.

“Caution, the letters make a weird sound next to each other,” he explains slowly, pointing to the next word.

“Ap- aph -r- o - disi… um, apher-” I struggle biting out syllables until Master mercifully cuts me off.

“Aphrodisiac.  Do you know what that is, Blue?” it doesn’t matter how calmly he says it, I feel my stomach drop as I force myself to nod.

I know that it means I drugged myself and then managed to make a bigger fool of myself than when I tried to be appealing.  I’m fairly certain my soul is entirely done with this situation and trying its very best to boil its way out of my body. It’s the only way I can make sense of the immediate and unrelenting heat on my face.  

Master’s a bit pale, but at least he isn’t as disgusted as I am with myself. I don’t deserve the space next to my Master.

It all comes crashing down just a little too fast.  What’s the point in teaching me how to read if I’m going to ignore warning labels?  What’s the point in using me as a familiar when I’m too fragile to make it through the semester?  I’m too damaged, I’m old for my useage, too ugly, too stupid.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, squirming until I fall backwards off the bed.  It’s not far to the ground, but in a rush of humiliation-fueled frustration I’m disappointed it didn’t hurt more.  He deserves so much more than me, he deserves better.  

 “Blue!” Master scrambles after me, pulling me against his chest as I try to crawl away.  I can’t recall when I started crying like a fool. It would be easier if he just let me go, let me lick my wounds in peace and pretend that this never happened.  Instead he holds me against his chest until my breathing calms to match the steady rise and fall of his chest.

It’s unfair.  There’s nothing I can do about the hard line of his body against mine, but the dust can’t be held accountable for how much I want him.  After a lifetime of being used and passed around, the one master I actually wouldn’t mind doesn’t want me in his bed. Or rather, he does want me in his bed, but for no other reason than to sleep.

I press my face to where his neck and shoulder meet and take a shaky inhale, reveling in his calming scent.  He doesn’t want me, probably finds me disgusting. I don’t blame him. This is as close as I’m probably ever going to get.

“I’m sorry.” I say again, softly this time.  I don’t want to rile this up any further, but I also don’t want to move.  It’s taking every ounce of willpower to stay put and not engage in wildly inappropriate things.

“You don’t have to be sorry… What were you dreaming about?” Master asks, carding his hand through my hair, scratching under my ears until I’m drunk on the touch.

“You.” I say simply, pressing lazy kisses into his neck.  I can blame it on the dust later, once I’ve fully come back to myself and can appropriately feel shame for my actions.  For now, I’m just soaking up the warm feelings while I can.

“Blue... you don’t have to say that” his hand cards through my hair and I can hear the smile in his voice.  He thinks I’m saying it for him, and I suppose he has the right, I’ve said similar things when asked. I’ve said these things when it pleases my master that I debase myself for their amusement, but this Master actually deserves it.

“I’m not.” I say bluntly, and then, because I realize I’ve never said it out loud,  “You are better than anything I deserve. You’re kind and smart and so strong, you deserve so much better than me.”  I try to push away the hard feelings settling in my chest as I admit it. It hasn’t changed anything, but for some reason acknowledging it out loud makes it so much worse.

“Blue , you’re not-” He starts, but I cut him off.  It doesn’t matter what he’s going to end the statement with.  I know it’s just a lie to try and make me feel better.

“Teach me,” I blurt out, entirely deserving the beating I know he won’t give.  It’s important to him, consent .  Being disobedient and selfish, more like.  

“What?” He staggers for a moment, blindsided by the request. I wouldn’t be surprised if he finally wakes up from this stupor and finally hits me for my insolence.

“Teach me how to do it the way you like.” I repeat myself.  I’m dooming myself to failure, but I want this, more than I realized.  I’m being selfish and stupid, but I want it all the same.

 I can’t understand why he’d want me to stop his fun and bother him with my concerns, but if it’s so important to him, I'm sure I can play along. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst I’ve been asked to do.

“It’s not the way I like, Blue, I just… you have to feel safe,” he says softly, his hand going back to pet behind my ears. 

“I do feel safe around you.” I force myself to speak even though my heart is beating too fast.  I can’t believe he isn’t angry with me. I can’t help but think I’m asking too much. Master’s already dismissed me out of hand once.  There’s an uncomfortable anxiety that settles inside me and it’s all I can do to press closer to him in an effort to stave it off.

“But you wouldn’t stop me from doing anything to you,” he counters, like it’s an actual argument, tucking my head under his chin and drawing out calming patterns into my back.

I’m not disobedient and suicidal, my brain unhelpfully replies. I remain quiet, pressing as close to him as I can.  I may not understand what he’s saying, but the tone is dismissal, and I don’t want to leave this embrace.

“If you want to play, then you need a safeword,” he sighs out, giving me a long-suffering look.

“A what?” I question softly.  Master’s giving me a chance, and I don’t want to mess it up.  I want to do right by him, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“It’s something you say when it’s too much, when you need me to stop, ok?” he explains.

“I… I can make a… safeword,” I say slowly.  It’s not anything I’ve ever been asked to do before, nothing even close in function, and I can’t make myself believe that I’d ever use it, but I think I can do it.

“Look, I want you to give this some serious thought before you commit, ok? You aren’t deciding this here and now. I won’t accept an answer for another day.  If you want to have this kind of relationship, and I mean really want it, then you come up with a safeword and we’ll talk.” 

Master’s voice takes on a sterner tone, more commanding.  He’s very serious about this. He rarely ever uses this tone otherwise.  I understand, this is what he wants from me and I am sure I can satisfy him.

“So... I can make you stop…” I venture, wanting to make sure I’m interpreting it correctly.

“Yes, safewords are for when you get overwhelmed, when you can’t go on, or when you feel unsafe.  With me you can use yours anywhere, not just the bedroom. Use it at school, in public, I swear that I will always respect it. Understand?” He smiles up at me, meeting my eyes.

I’m shocked he’d let it extend that far.  Is this a test? I can’t imagine ever calling for him to stop in the bedroom, but being able to subtly ask for a reprieve in a social setting without it automatically reflecting poorly on Master is a boon beyond any I thought possible.

“Y-yeah” I respond, hoping dearly that I am not lying.

Chapter Text

Kara

Winter is unyielding in its approach.  The air is getting colder, the days are getting shorter, and I have put off prepping the garden for long enough.

The cold snap that set in last night has made it cold enough to start wearing a thicker outer layer.  It makes me nervous enough that I pull out some thick woolen socks and gloves for Blue.  

Blue takes my dressing docilely enough, firmly hiding his nerves behind obedience.  He won’t meet my eyes and I feel like we’ve fallen back weeks in our relationship.

I have hope that it’s just nerves.  It’s probably just some lingering embarrassment from last night.  That at least is understandable, and much easier to work with than if I’ve actually harmed something irreparable between us.

I suppose I’d be embarrassed if I woke up grinding on the person I was sleeping next to.  Then again, my take on the situation wouldn’t be the same anyway. As much as Blue has offered up sex in the past, reiterating his training and practice as assets, he doesn’t seem to have a grip on the process as I’m familiar with it.

Though, I guess that would be the crux of the issue.  Blue is more used to being a toy than being in an actual relationship. He’s familiar with receiving anything his owner throws at him, but nothing more nuanced than that.

He’d panicked last night, convinced that when I said I wouldn’t accept a safeword for a day the same restriction didn’t apply for sex.  He’d been deathly certain I was going to fuck him, hurt him at least for waking me up, or something equally as stupid. It had taken so long just to calm him down, let his eyes refocus, get him to remember where he was and who he was with.

Despite the insanity of the night the drug coursing through his system ensured that he remained frustratingly hard.  He’d been horrified by the idea that he could take his pleasure into his own hands (literally), separate from me. Horrified to the point that I had to calm another series of shrieked promises, full body shaking, and morbid pleas.

I’d like to think what came next was good for Blue.  In the moment I think I justified it as the only way to put Blue to sleep with no adverse reactions.  There was no way his body could handle the high strain emotions for long, and definitely not after an orgasm.

The haziness of the night made it easier, too.  In the moment there were no coherent actions, just my hand disappearing under the band keeping Blue’s pants up, a mess of jerky hips and, in the end, when Blue’d been spent and half dead to the world, rumbly purrs from the time I cleaned him up to the point he dropped off into unconsciousness.

At least, that’s all it was…

Now morning light’s casting all sorts of unflattering shadows on our actions.

 There’s a deep-rooted anxiety that’s clawing away at the back of my mind as well, I’m just hiding it better.  I don’t want to say anything and ruin the tentative peace we have, even though I know it’s a lost cause. I doubt I can outwait Blue’s trained fears, but I’m hoping that I can at least discredit them a little before we actually have to sit down and talk like adults about this.

I don’t like that Blue has trouble accepting his own pleasure, especially the reluctance to take when he knew I wouldn’t be receiving.  Blue’s treating it like a rule he’s broken. At least that’s how I’m interpreting his skittishness. As much as I want to talk about what happened last night, as much as I want to apologize for what I did without direct consent, I don’t know how to bring it up without Blue melting down.  

He seemed to think it was wrong for him to find release if it wasn’t while he was serving me. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that he’ll take my lack of attention to the subject as an indication that it’s permissible behaviour, but either way it’s better than a panic attack before we make it to noon.

Besides, if all goes well today, I’ll be able to distract both of us.

I’ve been putting off fixing the garden for a long time now, but I can’t think of a better way to clear my mind than with elbow grease outside.  If nothing else, Blue will be distracted.

Blue reacts to my garden with an appropriate amount of awe.  I let him take it in on his own. It’s strange watching him weave his way between trees, taking in my varieties of herbs with wide eyes.  I haven’t let anyone into my garden in a long time, and I’ve certainly never invited anyone to come here. It’s all very idyllic until Blue makes it around the pool and catches the attention of the Almacs.

They’ve been pretty territorial lately, more vocal in their chittering, but allowing me close despite it.  The same leniency doesn’t seem to be extended to Blue. They squawk angrily, and Blue backs down before they really have a chance to escalate the situation.

“This place is very beautiful, Master. I see why you take great pride in it.” Blue makes his way back to me, a cautious smile breaking through the hard layers of anxiety within him.

“Yeah, it’s a great place to relax.  I hope you’ll find it calming too, though this place is a lot prettier in the spring.”  I can feel sleep clinging to the back of my throat as I try to put my ideas into words. This is what I’d been hoping for, and I can’t help the smile I share in return.  The garden was built to be a place of healing. I’m glad that its effects are not limited to just me.

Whatever I’ve said triggers some sort of reaction in Blue.  His ears and tail go all fidgety as he looks anywhere but directly at me.  I have a half second to kick myself for turning a good moment bad before he’s speaking again.

“We will come out here often then?” he asks, trying (and failing) to sound disinterested. He at least seems excited, if a little unwilling to let it show.  I thank my lucky stars, unwilling to imagine what I’d have to do if he didn’t like this space.

“Yeah. You can come out here whenever you like, really, though I will insist on proper clothing for the weather.  I definitely won’t be much fun during exam season, and it’s probably not healthy to stay in as much as I do--”

“I’d be allowed out on my own?” Blue interrupts, puzzled.  He immediately ducks his head again, looking bashful, but at least he’s not cowering like he used to when he’d interrupt. 

“I mean, yeah…” I guess I haven’t given it much thought.  There’s a gate to the front, but I’m fairly certain Blue is content with this place as his own personal paradise.  His tail curls excitedly and I can tell he’s taking in the garden with new eyes, knowing he’ll be able to come back to it.  My neighbors wouldn’t mind even if he did go into the front, though… Maybe Anthony would make a fuss, but he lives so far down that it’s a whole other issue if Blue’s made it all the way out there.

“Is that not normal?” I ask a little bluntly.  I didn’t know that Blue was supposed to be collared, so it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that there’s some arbitrary rule I’m not privy to.

“My previous masters haven’t allowed such free roaming in their spaces,” Blue says absently, bending down to examine a bush that’s still in the process of losing its petals.  Suddenly, something forces his stance rigid again and he fidgets around, trying desperately not to look at me. “Th-that is, I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t wreck anything, and I swear I wouldn’t try to run.”

“Blue.” I call for his attention and he takes the opportunity to press his lips together as firmly as he can.  I could see him spiralling off, but I interrupted before thinking of anything to say.

What can I say to that?

He’s tense again, worried about keeping still and quiet, waiting for my response.  Stars, I didn’t think he’d be so crazed over the prospect of going outside. Then again, I really should have expected it.  In hindsight, Blue hasn’t spent much time outside and he shies away from time spent unsupervised unless it’s a direct order.  I wonder if it’s been dangerous in his experience, if he could get in trouble for something so stupid.  

“I trust you, Blue.  You can come out here anytime you like, ok?”  Blue deflates, anxiety draining from his form, lips turning up into a cautious smile. 

I don’t understand how someone could keep him cooped up inside all the time.  Isn’t that unhealthy? If not physically, then mentally? I know I could go mad without at least some time and space outside.

Have gone mad- my brain rushes to correct me.

As it turns out, Blue’s absolutely horrid with plants.  He can’t tell herbs from weeds and it takes three reassignments before I realize it’s probably best for him to just hand me stuff while I work on the beds. 

Our system works out pretty well and we settle into a nice rhythm before I send Blue for some mulch from the big bags that I picked up months ago. I’m so focused on the repetitive motions as I pull weeds and lay down the winter layer of fertilizer I almost don’t hear the yelp from the other side of the yard.  I still might not have registered it without the resounding thump that followed it.

I really should have expected it.  The one thing I know for certain about my familiar is that he pushes himself too far, too quickly.  I didn’t need to take divination classes to forsee that Blue would try to move the entire mulch bag rather than fill a planter and bring it over piecemeal.  Unfortunately, when Blue’s around, my brain tends to take a holiday.

One of the Almacs has managed to get on top of the mulch pile, flapping its wings and cooing as though I might miss the giant mulch pile with my familiar underneath it.  Blue, for his part, seems reasonably occupied trying to crawl out of the mess with just the one free hand he has.

I know I shouldn’t laugh, and knowing that may be the only reason that I don’t, but it’s hard to contain myself when I’ve been presented with such an incredible scene.

“Go on, shoo, off of him,” I intone gently, waving my hand until the stubborn Almac dismounts the pile.

Blue’s stopped his struggling under the weight, so it’s not too much trouble to pull him up from the mess.