#olive whump

[whumpy-daydreams]

Auction pt 2

Masterlist

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CW: sold at auction, manhandled

“And for our last item - a truly unique specimen.” The auctioneer paused to let anticipation increase among the audience. “A contortionist!”

And with that Olive was yanked on stage. Bright lights hit her and she squeezed her eyes shut, blinking as they adjusted. While she couldn’t see the audience well, there were around 100 men and women elegantly dressed, and there were a few whistles as she was pulled to the centre.

“She isn’t trained, but I’m a week or two with any of you would sort that out nicely. Perfect for anyone wanting an exotic decoration for your home - or to expand your activities elsewhere.” There were a few chuckles and Olive felt sick at the implication. She tugged a little at the hand still gripping her arm and it tightened.

“Let’s start the bidding at £50,000. Do I have £50,000?” The price went up quickly, paddles rising and falling like waves until only a few bidders were left. “250,000; 300,000; 320,000; 350,000-”

“500,000” Someone called out, and a few people tutted.

“Very well sir, any raises on £500,000? 550,000? Anyone else for £550,000? Sold!”

A price on her life. Olive felt numb. Her legs were sluggish as she was dragged back off stage and to a new location. But when she saw the line of prisoners waiting for the people who had bought them, she ran.

She didn’t know where she was going, but it turned out it didn’t matter. An arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her into the air kicking and screaming. It was easy for them to cuff her hands behind her back and secure her to the wall along with the others, and when she tugged against the chains they didn’t budge.

Slowly people were brought in to see what they’d bought up close. Most went quietly, although a few fought. The quiet boy next to her even knelt before the woman who had bought him. And then there was only one other person left.

“You’re the contortionist huh?” She recognised the voice - it was the man who had talked to her earlier, the one who fought. Olive nodded. “Don’t happen to be an escape artist as well?”

“Looking back, that might have been a more useful skill,” she said, chuckling grimly.

“I’m Leon by the way.”

“Olive.”

“I’d shake your hand but…” 

Leon turned around as two men in suits entered. One was the auctioneer, a short man with hair tied back in a ponytail, but the other was tall, with a perfectly tailored three piece suit complete with a red tie.

“These are your purchases; do you have restraints or shall I supply you with some - on the house of course,” the auctioneer said.

“That’s generous of you but I have made my own arrangements. The contortionist, do you think she will need restraining?”

“Better safe than sorry, she did make a run for it.”

“Very well. David?” Another man Olive hadn’t noticed stepped forward. “Secure this one and bring him home in the van.”

The man, David, was careful to avoid Leon’s legs as he handcuffed him and dragged him away, meanwhile the suited man stepped closer to Olive and undid the shackles around her wrists. As he took her by the arm she pushed him away but he was quick to grab her again and his fingers gripped her face.

“I will give you a choice: you can behave and sit in the car, or you can try something like that again and go in the car boot instead. What’s it going to be?” It was an easy decision and when he let go of her she didn’t run. “Good girl.”

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 69: Emily's Lady

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tw: mind control, captivity, blood drinking, character death

October 1925

"Emily!"

"You know her?" said Alexander.

Emily tore her gaze away from Miss Lily, her expression dazed and drowsy as she regarded Oliver. "Hello…?"

"Emily, it's me, Oliver! We were in the auction house together. Don't you remember?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion, as though considering Oliver's words was taking a great effort.

"Oh, that's right, of course you were," said Miss Lily. "I remember now. Unfortunately, she likely does not. I was employed to fade most of her memories as part of her pet conditioning." She stroked Emily's hair with something like a fond smile. "It's okay, Emily, dear, it's nothing at all to worry about."

An empty smile returned to Emily's face as Miss Lily pet her, and a feeling of sick dread pooled in Oliver's stomach. He remembered how hard she had fought, how adamantly she hadn't wanted the vampires to take her mind. Now, she might not even be able to remember the person that she was -- like Miriam, who was lounging on Miss Lily's lap.

But it was one thing to meet Miriam and another thing to have actually known Emily before she'd been enthralled. Before both of them had been enthralled.

"Oliver, dear, please don't stare at Emily like that. You're making her uncomfortable."

"Sorry, sir," he said automatically. Emily did indeed look uncomfortable, fidgeting with her fingers. "I didn't mean to stare, Emily, I was just happy to… meet you again. I hope you've been well?"

She nodded shyly. "I've been very well. My lady is so kind to me."

"And who is your lady?" asked Alexander.

"Lady Jessica, sir."

Fitz groaned. "Oh god, we'd better send this girl away before --"

"Oh, there you are!" The voice was high-pitched and frilly, and belonged to a vampire in an elaborate rose-pink gown, dripping with even more jewelry than Emily was, carrying a hat covered in dried flowers and peacock feathers and netting. "You got away from me. I should have guessed you'd have found Lily here. How are you this evening, Lily?"

"Surrounded by my handiwork as usual."

"And oh!" Lady Jessica rounded the table to advance at Fitz, who looked appropriately alarmed. "If it isn't Fitzwilliam back in town! Why, it's been simply ages since I've seen you last!"

"I see you're still as charming as the first time I met you," said Fitz.

"I do remember that -- I remember when you were just the most adorable thrall. If only I could have gotten my hands on you! You would have been so precious to doll up and coddle."

"Yes, no doubt," said Fitz icily.

"And isn't that the star of the auction house?" Jessica's eyes went wide as she turned to Oliver, and Oliver couldn't help but flinch closer to Alexander. "How absolutely wonderful. I can't help but be jealous that you got to him first." Before Oliver knew what was happening, Jessica was practically on top of him. She smelled strongly of rose perfume and… and…

…and Oliver could hardly think, as though his thoughts were all coated in heavy syrup, thick and sticky. He lolled over into his master's lap, head filled with cottony bliss. Gosh, his master was just so… so… His master was saying something, and his voice was rumbling through Oliver's chest, and he felt like he could just bathe in it for days. Oliver nuzzled his head against his master, and the scent of old books and fireplaces overcame the sickly perfume.

And then, as suddenly as it began, his head cleared and he blinked heavily. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he realized what a fool he had been, rolling about on his master like a playful kitten. He sat up straight. "What just happened, sir?"

"Jessica's proximity robs humans of their mind," said Alexander casually, apparently unbothered by Oliver's unseemly behavior.

"He responds to it so well!" Lady Jessica was on the other side of the table now, next to Emily, giggling. "That poor thing worries far too much for a thrall, I can tell. I don't know why you don't have Lily take some of those worries away for him."

Oliver's breath caught. "No -- no thank you, sir," he said, dearly hoping that Lady Jessica wouldn't convince Alexander to leave him in an embarrassing stupor for good.

Alexander pulled Oliver close once more, and Oliver could feel the reassurance rolling off him. "I'll tend to my thralls as I see fit, thank you."

"Of course, of course!" she said. "I'm just surprised that you brought such a precious thing along with you to the Tiger's Eye, after what happened to Lord Edgar."

"Hold on, what happened to Lord Edgar?" said Lily, interest piqued.

"You don't know? I'm shocked! Well, I'm not shocked that Lord Alexander didn't know, reclusive as he is, but I thought you heard everything about everyone, Miss Lily."

"Well, that just means that you get to be the first to tell us."

"Yes, I want to hear this, too," said Alexander, leaning in.

"It's only been the talk of the town, darlings. It isn't every day that a vampire of Lord Edgar's stature is reduced to dust."

"Dust!" said Lord Alexander. "You must be joking."

"I can tell you all about it!" Jessica looked very happy to have an excuse to gossip. "Here, pet, amuse yourself while the vampires talk." She pulled a pad of paper and some crayons from her purse, handing them to Emily, whose face lit up as though she'd been handed a great prize. She curled up in a ball between Lady Jessica and Miss Lily, happy as a clam to draw in the notepad.

"So anyway, you know how Lord Edgar would frequent this place, drinking far too much and bragging about this and that. He brought one of his thralls, the short one, I'm not sure if you remember her, but…"

Lady Jessica continued to chatter about vampires Oliver had never heard of, and he couldn't focus. His train of thought kept straying to Emily, occupied in simple crayon drawings like a child. She must be around Lady Jessica's mind-melting influence all of the time, and between that and Miss Lily erasing her memories, she didn't seem to have much of a mind left.

Did she realize that anything was wrong? Her expression seemed to indicate that she didn't. He hadn't thought anything was wrong when he'd fallen under Lady Jessica's power moments ago, either, perfectly content to frolic in his master's lap.

That could have been him.

Although Oliver's memories of the night of the auction were something of a blur, he remembered Lady Jessica now. He'd met her when he was on display, calling him a pet and making him act like a puppy. If Alexander hadn't bid on him, hadn't gotten into a bidding war with Lord Jameson, perhaps it would have been him sitting there coloring, mind as empty as a child's, with no inkling that anything had ever been different.

And who's to say he hadn't been changed?

Oliver thought that his memories were intact and that his personality had only been altered to serve his master -- but would he even know about any part of him that had been stolen without a trace?

It wasn't something he had thought about much ever since he'd arrived at Alexander's. Alexander, whose song so effortlessly subdued Oliver's mind. Alexander, who had instilled such a deep sense of loyalty within him. Alexander, who was still a dangerous vampire in every way.

"I'm not surprised," Fitz was saying. "He was far too cocky for his own good. It was only a matter of time before a hunter got the drop on him."

"What a thing to say!" Jessica chided. "I know you had your differences, but surely he didn't deserve that."

"But how could a vampire hunter get so close to Lord Edgar?" Alexander said. "I've never known a human who could keep their will intact when he starts his enthrallment."

"That's what everyone is wondering," said Lady Jessica, with the tone of voice you might use to tell a ghost story around a fire. "No hunter has ever posed a serious threat to Lord Edgar before. Some vampires think it might have been the witch that Lady Evelyn claims to have encountered -- a witch who can make herself immune to enthrallment."

"A witch, you say?" Alexander leaned forward with keen interest.

Lady Jessica laughed. "Really? I didn't think you would be the type to believe in stories like that."

"It's not just a story," Alexander insisted. "There are many accounts of witches who have wards against vampires. It's a very real possibility."

"If you say so!"

A witch who could resist enthrallment, who was killing vampires… if such a person existed, they'd be a grave danger to his master. The thought of Alexander being killed before his eyes was enough to shake Oliver from his vague concerns about his master's enthrallment. Even if he had been altered in ways he couldn't perceive, even if Alexander wasn't really as kind as he seemed, Oliver couldn't bear the thought of seeing him killed.

"I'm deeply sorry for the delay, sirs. Here are your refreshments." The waitress had returned with a tray of drinks, and she placed a glass of deep red wine in front of his master.

"Be a dear and top up my champagne, won't you?" said Lady Jessica, handing the waitress a flute. "We should really be talking about more pleasant things than hunters. After all, I don't think I've properly shown off my new thrall!" She placed her hand on Emily's head, and Emily looked up with a submissive smile. "Isn't she just absolutely lovely? She looks like a picture in a magazine. And she's so quiet and docile, too! I'm obsessed."

She hadn't been quiet and docile before Miss Lily enthralled her, that much Oliver was sure of. And she certainly didn't seem like the type who wanted to look like a picture in a magazine.

"I'm very pleased with how she turned out. I knew she would be worth the training when she arrived in the auction house," said Miss Lily. "I do hope you keep her longer than your usual habit."

"Oh, Lily, you know I simply can't bear to keep a thrall longer than is fashionable! Not all of us get so attached to our thralls as you and Alexander," she said with a laugh. "Besides, when the time comes, I'm sure she'll do quite well on the secondhand market."

"Secondhand market?" said Oliver in horror. All eyes at the table turned to him.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Oliver," said Alexander.

But it was too late. All of his dread and rumination was bubbling up inside him, along with an emotion that had become so divorced from him that it felt alien -- anger. "How could you?" he said. "You had Emily's memory wiped, you made her into a shell of her former self, all just for your pleasure, and then you'd just discard her when you get bored? How could you treat her that way?"

"Oliver," his master warned, and there was a note of control in it, inducing Oliver to shut his mouth.

Lady Jessica's face twisted into a sour mask. "Lord Alexander, you really do need to keep a better leash on your thralls. We all know you're more than powerful enough to control them effortlessly. It's unseemly to allow them to disrespect their betters like this." Oliver didn't miss her pointed glance to Fitz, who was watching the situation with great amusement.

"Oliver is free to say as he pleases," said Alexander, and this time the warning was directed towards Lady Jessica.

"I just never understood that," said Lady Jessica dismissively. "Thralls are such precious and delicate things. They need discipline to keep them in line. It's not healthy to be so permissive."

"Listen, Jessica," said Miss Lily, intervening before Alexander could open his mouth again. "If you ever do get tired of Emily, do let me know. I can make sure she goes to a good home, or perhaps keep her myself."

The fake-sweet smile returned to Lady Jessica's face. "You're all so sweet when it comes to your thralls. It's so charming." She downed the rest of her champagne and stood up, swaying slightly, pulling Emily up after her. "Well, I had better mingle with the rest of the crowd. The night's still young, you know!"

Lady Jessica wasn't even out of earshot before Fitz laughed uproariously, leaning over to clap Oliver on the shoulder. "Excellent work! I thought she'd never be driven off."

"You shouldn't encourage that sort of behavior," said his master.

"Why not? You didn't mind when it was me."

"I suppose I didn't."

"I'm sorry to have embarrassed you, sir," said Oliver. "I just can't bear to see Emily like that."

"It's all right, Oliver, I'm not cross with you. I also find her practice of discarding her thralls abhorrent. But I've known her for a long time, and her mind is thoroughly made up, so I try to keep the peace."

Oliver thought that this was the kind of difference of opinion that shouldn't be smoothed over so easily, but the fire within him was already quenched, so he swallowed it. "I understand, sir."

"And that's nothing you ever need to worry about yourself. I would never give you over to the secondhand market, not for any amount of money. You'll always have a place in my home."

"Thank you, sir." Oliver did believe him. He remembered the fierceness in Alexander's voice when he told him he'd never let him go.

"I have the blood you ordered, sirs," said a waitress. She was holding onto a leash attached to a man who was wearing nothing more than a collar. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, and there were scars from bites all over his neck, arms, and thighs.

"None of us ordered any blood," said Miss Lily, as casually as can be.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sirs! I must have the wrong table!" She bowed and led the poor man away.

That could have been him, too, if he had been caught by a different vampire, if he'd had worse blood…

"Lex, look!" said Fitz. "Did you see what that vampire is wearing? I can't believe he walked out like that in public!"

Oliver certainly couldn't concentrate on any of the idle gossip about the Tiger's Eye patrons, not when he was so keenly reminded that he was still merely a defenseless human in a den of hostile vampires.

---

"Oh, that was so much fun!" Lady Jessica was slurring her words. "I had so much fun. Did you have fun? I had fun."

"Fun," Emily repeated in her daze. Her lady's aura was filling the carriage, and Emily's thoughts were slowed to a crawl, on top of her lady's drunkenness making her feel dizzy.

Usually, she would just let go to the sensations, not bothering to fight the stupor, but tonight, for some reason, her thoughts refused to stop. There was something bothering her. Something important.

Her lady had talked about giving her away when she was done with her. Emily knew that, though. Her lady had been very clear on that point, often using it as a threat when Emily misbehaved.

No, that wasn't it. This was something new.

That thrall knew her name. That thrall knew her. His name was Oliver. That seemed important. Why did he know her?

"I was thinking, maybe we could arrange a playdate between you and Alexander's thrall," Lady Jessica said, as though she could read Emily's thoughts. Perhaps she could. "He lives just a block away, you know. You'd set a good example for him, and I could silence that poor thrall's mind for a bit. I feel awful for him, having so much fear when he should just enjoy serving."

"This one would like that, my lady!" said Emily. "Please."

"Yes, I will do that, then. I'll have to call on that stuffy Alexander and ask him."

Emily knew that her lady usually didn't follow through on things that Emily wanted, so she shouldn't raise her hopes about this, but she really did want to see Oliver again, especially when her lady wasn't around and she could think a bit more. Maybe then she could remember how he knew her.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, the horse making a distressed sound. "What is that?" said Lady Jessica irritably. "Keep moving, I wanna go hooooome."

There was no response from the coachman.

"Ugh, I have to do everything myself. Stay here, dear." Lady Jessica stumbled drunkenly out of the carriage.

"Oh, a hunter. How very precious," said her lady, and Emily sat up at attention. "Why don't you come closer, sweet girl. Come closer, that's it. Such a good girl. Such a --"

Silence. Emily strained her ears to hear. Had her lady killed the hunter? Her mind felt so much more clear all of a sudden, as though a fog was lifting.

Footsteps approached the carriage, and the door swung open.

It wasn't her lady. It was a stranger, a woman with a leather vest and weapons strapped all over her body. Emily screamed and backed away, fumbling for the latch of the other door.

"Wait!" The stranger grabbed her wrist. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

Emily tried to comprehend the situation in front of her, and to her surprise, she found that she could. "You're… you're that hunter, aren't you? The hunter who can resist enthrallment?"

"Oh, you've heard of me!" she said with a grin. "My name is Vivian. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to rescue you."

"You killed my lady," said Emily numbly. She should feel bad about that. She should cry and rend her hair. But for some reason she felt only a vague sense of relief.

"I did, but I only kill vampires. Never people, and never thralls." The stranger looked her in the eye. "You still have some of your mind left, don't you? I think I can help you."

"Help me…" Thinking felt so much easier than it had just moments ago, but she still felt slow and muddy. "Yes, please help me."

"I will. I'll help you. You're free now."

"I'm free." The word tasted like sunshine.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Freedom for now.

Next week, everything goes wrong for Fitz.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

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@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

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@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

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@whump-me-harder

[just-here-for-the-whump]

@whumpgifathon | Day 2: Feeling Sick

Fever

Smallville 8x3 Toxic

[oligoweee]

Whumpee curled up against Caretaker's chest, eyes closed, and trying to calm down by listening to Caretaker's quiet, comforting words... Letting Whumpee know this pain isn't forever. Suddenly, Whumper walks into the room moving toward Whumpee... Caretaker continuing their soothing words as they don't notice Whumper...

For a moment, with a chuckle, Whumper watches as Whumpee is curled up in the corner of the room, hugging the wall with bloodied arms while whispering reassuring words to themselves. Whumper looms above, not knowing whether to slowly or quickly snap them back to reality...

[letthewhumpbegin]

911, s3e3

[aceofwhump]

@whumpgifathon | Day 3: "Storm"

Arrow, 1x01, Oliver Queen

[whump-on-a-string]

The Rare Bookseller

Fan art for @oliversrarebooks whump series.

[where-is-my-whump]

9-1-1 7x07

[prettyboysinpain]

Buck (and Eddie) get struck by lightning ⚡️⚡️

9-1-1 6x10 “In a Flash”

[flame-343]

PROMPT

Batman AKA Bruce Wayne had some where houses compromised because the LoA are back at it again and being a pain, He can't leave everything in the cave because there is so much of it, back up batterangs, grappling hooks, old cars, gadgets, the occasional Bat-mech or two. He needs to find a secure place to house all of his stuff while he deals with the LoA. He can't trust his children to take care of everything even in smaller sizes. So when Bruce is at a loss, he consults his dad (Alfred Pennyworth) for advice. Alfred says something that makes Bruce shiver to his core. " Why not give the original justice league members the extra things Master Bruce? You trust them with your life on the battlefield, why not with a few boxes of extra tech?". The thought of Hal Jordan with his extra batmobile is enough to make him reel in mental pain. However, this is Bruce's only hope, so he's called an emergency meeting for the original members of the justice league. May whatever higher being up there make sure this goes well

[h50europe]

BUCK/TOMMY - Tommy had finally returned home after spending over three weeks in the hospital. He was severely injured when he fell through a floor during a fire in a high-rise building. Buck had spent every free minute at his boyfriend's hospital bedside.

Now that Tommy was home, Buck was beside him, watching his every breath. Tommy had protested, but then the painkillers had taken effect, and he had fallen asleep in the middle of a sentence.

Stubborn as Buck was, he tried desperately to stay awake. Eventually, sleep overcame him, too, and he nodded off.

When Tommy briefly opened his eyes and saw that Buck had fallen asleep, he murmured, "Finally, it was about time." Then he snuggled closer to Buck, a moment of mutual comfort and support, and was out within seconds.

[whumpy-daydreams]

9. Rules

Masterlist

Previous Next

CW: training, caning

Olive tried not to fidget as she stood in those cursed shoes in the grand entrance hall. Ms Carter watched her from the side, unforgiving and stern. Sebastian strolled in, cane in hand, jacket discarded.

“Well then, rules. Rules define us, provide structure and routine. You know rules one, two, and three already. Repeat them.”

“Address you as sir, do as you say…” she struggled to remember the other one. Whack! Olive hissed.

“Rule two. Do not speak without permission.” When she said nothing he smiled. “Clever. Repeat rule two.”

“Do not speak without permission.” Another thwack. “Do not speak without permission, sir.” This was going to get old quickly.

“Better. Repeat these rules after I say them. Rule four: you are to greet me and any guests with a curtsy.”

“Greet you and any guests with a curtsy, sir.”

“Show me.” Olive did her best, dipping a few inches. When Mr Camberton stepped closer she stiffened, but he didn’t hit her. “Keep your back straight, right leg goes behind, head bowed, maintain eye contact.” She tried again and flinched as he put his hand on shoulder, forcing her lower.

When he was finally satisfied with her curtsy he stepped back.

“Rule five: you will not break, damage, or tamper with any item belonging to me, or any person in this house. That includes your clothes and anything else I give to you.”

“Ow!” The cane stung as it hit her arm again. “I didn’t do anything!” Another hit in the same place had her yelping.

“The first was for not repeating the rule. The second was for talking back. Which leads me to rule six: you will not argue, question, or talk back to me.”

“Do not argue, question, or talk back, sir.”

“And rule five?”

“Don’t break anything.” This time the cane hit her bare forearm. She glared at him, and quickly earned herself another.

“I don’t appreciate impudence. Rule five again.”

“Don’t break or damage anything, including any items given to me.” She quickly added, “sir.” He nodded in approval.

“Rule seven: you are to ensure any area of the house you use is clean and tidy.”

“Keep any areas of the house I use clean and tidy, sir.”

“Rule eight: you are to maintain a presentable appearance at all times. This includes good posture and a pleasant countenance.”

“Be presentable at all times with good posture and pleasant countenance, sir.”

“What is rule four?”

Olive sorted through the rules, trying to remember- thwack. Tears began forming.

“Curtsy when… greet people with a curtsy. Sir.”

“Rule nine: when dismissed you are to curtsy and return immediately to either your task or your room.”

“When dismissed, curtsy and return to my task or my room, sir.”

“Rule ten: if you break any of these rules, either on purpose or by accident, you are to inform Ms Carter and kneel in the entrance hall until I determine a suitable punishment.”

Olive struggled to get the words out, her voice too quiet. “If I break any rules, I am to inform Ms Carter and kneel in the entrance hall… until you decide a punishment, sir.”

“I’ll have Ms Carter give you a copy of the rules. I expect you to memorise them. Dismissed.”

Olive turned quickly, eager to get away from Mr Camberton and his wretched cane. But she only got a few steps before he called after her.

“Wait.” She looked back at him. “What was rule nine?” Shit.

“Curtsy when dismissed and return to my room. Sir.”

“And rule ten?”

“If I break a rule, tell Ms Carter and kneel in the entrance hall until you decide on a punishment, sir.”

“Since I was present for that particular rule break, there isn’t any need to tell Ms Carter. But I do expect you to kneel.”

Nausea clamped down on her empty stomach as Olive turned back to the centre of the room, taking her time as she knelt on the cold marble. Mr Camberton looked her over.

“Hold out your left hand.” She did, not daring to look at him. The cane whistled as it came down on her open palm and she cried out, cradling it to her chest. “Did I say to move it?” The words were mocking, cruel things that betrayed his enjoyment. Slowly Olive held it back out.

The next blow was just as hard, and she shook slightly with the effort of keeping it aloft, a sob escaping her lips. For a while there was nothing. Just the anticipation of pain.

“You’re dismissed.”

She practically scrambled to her feet, curtsying low before walking away, breathing fast and heavy, Ms Carter’s heavy footsteps close behind.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 72: Alexander's Resolve

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, dehumanization, possessiveness, sickness, doctor examination, drugging

October 1925

Lex's joys never lasted long.

The night was cold and clear, unlike the thick fog that had accompanied his and Fitz's reunion, and the bright moon overhead didn't suit Lex's dark mood. He was trying to fake high spirits, not wanting to mar Fitz's last night in the city, and as usual, he was failing.

"You look like you're heading to an execution. Actually, no, I think you would be more cheerful if you actually were heading to an execution," said Fitz. "I'll be back again before you know it."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Lex keenly felt every moment they were apart. In the brief time they'd had together as master and thrall, they'd formed a deep bond, and turning Fitz had only strengthened it. Fitz living halfway across the world was like cutting out one of his lungs and flinging it across the ocean, or keeping half of his brain on the moon, unnatural.

"I know," said Lex, acquiescing to the lie. "But is it too much to hope that you'll visit sooner next time?"

"That's the first time you've asked me that."

"Is it?" That didn't seem right. But then, perhaps it was. He'd never been good at simply telling Fitz, or anyone else, what he wanted, for fear of being denied.

"It is. And since you've asked so nicely… I think it can be arranged," said Fitz. "Perhaps I could come for New Years."

"That soon!"

"Why not? You did say I should --"

"Yes," said Lex, fearful that Fitz would take it back. "Yes, come for New Years. That sounds perfect." This winter might actually be bearable if Fitz would be returning in just a few short months. And in the meantime, he'd have Oliver for comfort.

Oliver coughed politely behind his hand. Lex suspected that he might be feeling under the weather, as his eyes looked unusually tired and the smell of his blood was slightly off. He'd have to worry about that after seeing Fitz off.

"We should board soon, sir," said Roger, who once more had been relegated to dragging along the steamer trunk.

Fitz pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "Unfortunately, you're right."

"I'm glad you're still carrying the watch I gave you," said Lex, trying to shove down the nasty cocktail of emotions brewing in his gut. "I understand if you have to go. I wouldn't want you to miss your --"

Cold lips were pressed to his as Fitz pounced upon him. One final moment of having his Fitz in his arms where he rightfully belonged, before his precious sired was torn away from him once more, separated by an ocean.

No, it was his sire who separated him. If it weren't for his sire, it would be safe for him and Fitz to be together, and nothing would separate them again. It was his sire who ripped away every joy he had in this wretched eternal life, no matter how small, and one day, he knew, he'd come for Fitz again, no matter how far away he lived. And perhaps even sooner, he'd come for Oliver, break his mind and spirit and rob the light from his eyes.

It couldn't be allowed. It wouldn't be allowed. This time, Lex couldn't fail.

Lex's anger at his sire mixed with the bittersweetness of Fitz's departure, and Lex returned the kiss with ferocity, backing Fitz up against a wall -- and the sound he made when Lex pinned him was beautiful.

God damn it, he would miss this.

It was over too soon, as it always was. Lex had to loosen his hold on Fitz and let him go, even as every instinct in his body screamed at him to take what was his. His fist clenched, nails digging into his skin, as Fitz walked away with Roger in tow.

He could stop Fitz, if he wanted. He could sing to Fitz, a sweet song of love and obedience, and watch his expression dissolve into a dreamy smile and glassy eyes. He was so gorgeous when he was under Lex's spell, swaying helplessly in Lex's arms, filled with bliss as Lex poured his power into his ears. It was his right as a vampire lord to do what he would with his sired -- he could take Fitz back and have him as blissfully enthralled as Oliver, and never have to suffer this wound again.

Except he couldn't, not when his sire was still there. And when Lex finally achieved his goal, was finally free, he wouldn't need to enthrall Fitz to make him stay. They could live together freely, go where they wanted and do as they pleased and keep their thralls safe, and maybe…

Maybe things could be good. Maybe Lex could be happy. Maybe Lex could begin to erase the decades of pain, and take back some small part of what he'd lost that night when the Maestro first took hold of his body.

It was that thought, more than any other, that stopped him from doing something he and Fitz would both regret.

And so he allowed Fitz to go once again.

"We should go home," said Lex, taking Oliver's arm in his. Despite wearing a fine woolen coat that Lex had provided, Oliver was noticeably shivering, and as they walked from the docks, he began to cough violently.

There was no ignoring it. Oliver was ill, hopefully with nothing serious. It had been some time since Lex had cared for a sick human, but he thought he still remembered. The first order of business was to get his poor thrall off his feet. Lex swept him into a princess carry, amused at Oliver's squeak of surprise.

"Sir -- what are you -- " His body was wracked with coughs again.

"You're clearly not feeling well at all. Why haven't you said anything?"

"I didn't want to worry you, sir. I'm sure it's only a cold."

"Only a cold or not, you're my thrall. I'm very invested in your health and well-being, as I hope you realize."

Oliver nodded weakly. "Yes, sir, I appreciate it."

Lex pressed a hand to Oliver's forehead and was not surprised to feel it hot as a furnace. Oliver leaned into the cold touch, closing his eyes. "You seem to be running a high fever, and your cough sounds bad. What else is troubling you?"

"I'm sore and tired all over, sir," said Oliver, cuddling against Lex in a way that he normally didn't. "My throat is awfully sore, and I'm congested. That's about all."

"You must have caught something from the other humans at the Tiger's Eye. There's always some irresponsible vampire who doesn't take proper care of their thralls. Now I regret taking you, especially with how distressed you were over Jessica's thrall."

"I'm glad I got to see what had become of her, sir."

"I suppose so." Lex pulled up what information he had about human illness from dusty corners of his mind. He should probably just call on Edith. She'd know the correct thing to do. "I'll take you home and get you into bed. Is there anything you'd like to eat or drink? I bought you some cans of soup recently, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir, there's still some canned soup in the pantry. Water to drink would be fine, or a cup of tea, if it isn't too much trouble."

"It isn't trouble at all. Just as you serve me, it's my responsibility to serve you when you need it."

"Thank you, sir." Oliver leaned into Lex's chest and closed his eyes, clearly exhausted.

As concerned as Lex was, he couldn't help but be endeared at how much his thrall trusted him. Fitz may have left him for now, but Oliver was right here, and he needed Lex.

And Lex needed him. He'd tried so hard to avoid becoming attached to another thrall after Fitz, buying very ordinary thralls with low quality blood that wouldn't interest his sire at all, keeping Henry and unfortunate Paul at arm's length. Lex hadn't fully appreciated how his lack of decent blood and decent service was diminishing him, not until he had no choice but to acquire Oliver. Oliver, whose blood was rich and full of life; Oliver, who fell under his spell so easily and completely.

That was why he had refused Fitz's last minute offer to take Oliver overseas with him. Certainly, it might spare Oliver from the looming threat of his sire, but Lex simply couldn't stand to see his new thrall taken away along with Fitz. He knew that without Oliver to keep his spirits up, he'd fall into cowardice and inaction once again, his weakness allowing his sire to press him firmly under his thumb.

When they arrived home, Lex carried Oliver upstairs to his own bedroom, which was only occasionally used now that Lex had given into the temptation to have his thrall warm his bed on cold nights. He stripped Oliver of his heavy coat and set him down on the side of the bed, and his thrall blinked at Lex slowly with bleary eyes. "You don't need to do a thing, Oliver. Just relax," said Lex.

Lex made quick work relieving Oliver of his shirt and pants, and Oliver's complete lack of resistance as he was undressed was an indicator both of trust and of how out of it the poor human was. He fetched some light pajamas from the dresser and a washcloth doused in cold water from the bathroom, to wipe the sweat from his too-warm skin. Soon, Oliver was bundled safely into his bed, his heavy eyes drifting shut even before Lex could sing to him.

Satisfied with his work, Lex went to the kitchen to heat water for tea. There was a loud knock on the door, and Lex groaned, in no mood for visitors. He peeped through the spyhole to see Lily.

"If this is a social call, I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down tonight," said Lex as he opened the door. "Oliver's taken ill, and I'm going to need to go fetch Edith."

"Jessica's dead," said Lily.

"What?"

"Exactly what I said, Jessica's dead."

Lex stared in shock. He'd never exactly been friends with Jessica -- their interests and personalities were far too different, and Lex couldn't stand her habit of discarding thralls that bored her. But they'd known each other for a very long time, and it seemed impossible that she could be dead. Lex let Lily into the house wordlessly, and they went to the music room to talk. Oliver's tea would unfortunately have to wait a few minutes.

"When did it happen?"

"The night we all went to the Tiger's Eye, apparently. No one's sure what went down, but her carriage was found empty the next morning. It was even in the human papers," said Lily, fiddling with her hair. "It seems likely it was a hunter who got her."

"But Jessica's been untouchable all these years. Any hunter who gets close enough to stake her falls under her power. Unless…"

"That's exactly why I wanted to be the one to tell you, because I knew what conclusion you would draw." Lily leaned forward, glaring. "Everyone's saying that it must have been the witch-hunter."

"Jessica knew about the witch."

"But she didn't believe the witch was real. Besides, you know how drunk she was by the time we left the club. Don't you think she could've been caught off guard?"

"I guess she must have." Lex's mind was working a million miles an hour.

"You need to be careful, Lex. I mean it! Jessica only lived a short walk away from here. You could so easily be next."

"Then I'll have to be ready for it."

Lily groaned. "I'm serious, Lex. At the risk of being disgustingly sincere… I don't know how I'd deal with it all if something happened to you. So just don't do anything stupid and reckless, okay?"

"I won't be careless like Jessica. I promise," he said, his face softening. "I don't want to get dusted. Not now, when I feel so close to having an existence that's worth it." Truthfully, Lex thought that Lily would be perfectly fine without him. And she'd certainly take Oliver if anything happened to him, and hopefully she'd send him to Fitz if she didn't want to keep him herself. Still, Lex was surprised at how vehemently he didn't want to be killed. That hadn't always been the case.

With her warning delivered, Lily left Lex to tend to his thrall, and Lex put the kettle back on. He took the hot tea up to Oliver, who was sleeping fitfully. Lex touched his forehead and found that it was still burning hot.

"Master?" said Oliver, his eyelids fluttering open.

"Shh, it's okay, Oliver. I brought you some tea if you'd like. Or if you want to just sleep, you can do that."

"Mmm." Oliver closed his eyes again, sinking into the pillow.

Lex's mind couldn't help but turn. The witch hunter was so, so close, and with her, a possibility of freedom, the spell to render his sire's control over him ineffective. All he really had to do was go out at night as though calling on friends or visiting the club, making himself a tempting target…

He hated to leave Oliver home by himself, but he'd only be a liability in the fight that Lex was seeking. He'd be perfectly safe locked up at home while Lex did what needed to be done, much as he was forced to leave Fitz behind when enthralling the guild, so many years ago.

It was exactly the sort of plan that Lily was warning him against, but he had to try. He couldn't let another opportunity to be free of his sire slip through his fingers with so much on the line.

His mind was made up.

"I'll protect you," Lex whispered to his sleeping thrall. "I'll protect you no matter what it takes. I promise I won't fail you."

---

Oliver was running, running through endless hallways, not getting any closer to his goal -- not that he was even sure what his goal was. He was late, he knew that much, and his efforts were inadequate, and he was in so much trouble --

There was someone calling for him. He wanted to respond, but his throat felt so dry and scratchy that he couldn't get the words out. He fell to the ground, coughing so hard he felt his ribs would split.

The coughing fit woke him up. As awareness returned to him, he realized that he was in his own comfortable bed and not some dingy hallway. Unfortunately, the burning pain in his throat was real, along with his headache, itchy eyes and sore muscles.

"Easy, Oliver." His master was by his side, rubbing his back so gently as Oliver coughed. "Here, drink some water. Slowly."

Oliver gratefully took the glass of water, and it took all his restraint to follow Alexander's instructions and not gulp it down. The water soothed his cracked lips and tortured throat, enough that he could croak out words. "Thank you, sir."

"Shh, you don't need to talk," said Alexander. "And you don't need to thank me. It's the least I can do, to take care of you when you're ill."

Oliver nodded, comforted to have his master near. Of course Alexander had every incentive to care for him, having paid so much money for Oliver, but Oliver was still relieved that the vampire was so dedicated. He'd been sick frequently his whole life, and he'd always had to suffer through his illnesses alone, huddled in his little bunk in the apartment above the bookstore, dragging himself a few feet to fetch water and whatever food he happened to have in the pantry. Having someone look out for him was a welcome change.

"I've brought Dr. Edith to see you. Will you let her examine you?"

Oliver hadn't even noticed the older woman standing near the doorway, the vampire doctor he'd met a few weeks ago. She was wearing a black walking dress and carrying a medical bag. He couldn't help but be a bit apprehensive about being examined by a vampire other than his master, but with Alexander right here, he should be fine. He nodded.

Alexander stepped back a few paces to allow Dr. Edith to sit by his bedside. "Hello there, Oliver. Your master tells me that you're running a fever and have a sore throat and a cough, is that right? You don't need to speak if it hurts."

Oliver nodded again. Her aura felt soothing, almost like a cool breeze. It made him want to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

She produced a thermometer from her bag. "Be a good boy and open your mouth. Here, I'll just put that under your tongue… and hold it there. Good." As Oliver lay there with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth, she opened one of his eyes wider with her fingers and looked in. "Follow my finger with your eyes, now. That's a good boy."

His eyelids were drooping as he tried to watch her finger up and down, back and forth. He couldn't help but wonder if she might be mesmerizing him, but then she stopped.

"Eye movements are normal. Let's see that temperature reading." She relieved Oliver of the thermometer and took a look. "No wonder you aren't feeling well, dear. We need to get that fever down, don't we?" She rummaged in her medical bag and pulled out a brown bottle and a small metal spoon, pouring out a generous amount of what was within. It smelled foul.

"What's in it, sir?" Oliver managed to say.

"It's medicine that will help with your cough and fever. You'll probably go right to sleep after you take it -- not that you need help sleeping with your master's abilities. But it's very important to reduce your fever."

Despite the compulsion to follow her words, Oliver balked a bit at the disgusting smelling medicine, glancing over at his master. "You should do as she says," said Alexander.

Left with no choice, he gulped the medicine, swallowing it as fast as he could and nearly gagging on the taste. Dr. Edith mercifully gave him some water to wash it down.

"That's a good thrall," she said. "Now I need to examine your chest. Just lie back and try to relax and breathe deep."

She began unbuttoning his pajamas with a no-nonsense attitude, and all Oliver could do was lie there as she exposed his chest and pressed a cold stethoscope to it. "Breathe in, dear. Now breathe out. Big deep breaths for me. Good boy."

She put the stethoscope down and began gently palpating him around the neck. "Nothing abnormal. Let me just see your bite scars. Alexander, are these his only bite wounds?"

"They are. I've only ever fed from his neck."

"Very good. Well, they don't look infected. Healthy and normal for a thrall."

Oliver was starting to feel strange as she pulled out another instrument to examine his ears. It was almost as if he were floating away from his body, watching himself on the bed from a distance.

"It's all right, Oliver," said his master, who was suddenly by his side again. "That's just the medicine kicking in."

He looked up at Alexander as his vision blurred, his eyelids threatening to close. He hadn't even realized that the doctor had finished her examination. He lay there, fighting to stay awake as Alexander and Dr. Edith discussed his condition.

"…give him a spoonful every eight hours or so. If his fever gets worse…"

"What would be a suitable thing to feed…"

"He's otherwise healthy, so he should…"

The next time he opened his eyes, Dr. Edith was gone, and Alexander was perched on the side of the bed, stroking his face and humming softly.

"You're going to be all right, Oliver. You should get some rest."

His master began to sing, and it wasn't merely a lullaby to put him asleep. In the notes of the song, Oliver could hear his master's commands to feel safe and to know he was cherished, and it put him at ease as he slipped back down, down, down into oblivion.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

There will be no new Bookseller next weekend, because I'm getting married. I think that's a fair enough excuse!

I may have other things to post in the meantime though, so don't touch that dial.

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[just-here-for-the-whump]

@whumpgifathon | Day 5: Water

Waterboarding

Arrow 3x13 Canaries

[oligoweee]

-Whumper doctors

-Whumpee that is going under for surgery

-Whumpee is only given a paralytic and not proper anesthesia for them to go to sleep and not feel any pain.

-Caretaker/Carewhumper comforts them either after or during the procedure (depending on what it is)

-Whumpee is hysterical not quite able to do much but later begs to know why the doctors did that

-No genuine reason, the doctors just wanted a reaction out of Whumpee

[letthewhumpbegin]

911, s3e1