A couple of days passed and besides some tentative touches, a caress of his arm here and a hand on his back there, the man kept to his word. Lukka knew that they would have to act closer than they were whenever they left the safety of the room but he never expected it to come so soon.
"Lukka." Looking up from the book he had been reading he cocked his head to the side questioningly as the Gamemaster watched him across the table. "Grakkus is holding another tournament, starting tomorrow. He'll expect you to be there as my… guest." Swallowing the lump in his throat he nodded.
"Yes, master." The man scratched at his head, looking conflicted, before he let out a loud breath.
"Wear the light blue outfit, you'll need to look the part." He ordered, voice carefully neutral. Lukka knew the outfit he was talking about and quietly agreed that it would probably be best. Besides covering more of his skin than the other outfits the light blue one, more of an aqua color really, had less jewelry and was very soft. The kind of outfit one could stand around in for long periods of time without feeling uncomfortable.
"Yes, master." Gamemaster's brows came down slightly in a frown but Lukka knew the man wasn't angry with him. It happened every time the man was deep in thought. The scars marring his face made it look far more sinister than it actually was and if Lukka hadn't been closely studying his new master the past couple of days he would have been terrified. But so far the man hadn't paid him much mind, other than to ask simple questions and give him basic commands where some of the servants would be able to overhear.
"I've seen the others wearing make-up, did you learn how to apply any?" Lukka blinked. That was the first time Gamemaster had asked him about any possible training he might have had.
"I know how, yes, although I never learned the more intricate full face designs. Just enough to accentuate my features." The man nodded and left the room, leaving Lukka to sit there, confused, until he returned a short time later. In his hands was a small box, one which Lukka already recognized.
"Practice tonight, and apply some tomorrow." Standing he took the box gingerly from the man with a small smile.
"I'll be sure not to disappoint you, master."
It was a silly idea, really. He didn't think Grakkus would care whether Gamemaster's slave wore any make-up or not. But the teen was supposed to have been a Courtesan in training and would have to look the part. Letting Lukka show he had at least some worth, and had pleased his master enough to be given a few freedoms, would go far in convincing the slimy Hutt that his 'gift' had been appreciated. Of course being too flashy could bring its own issues but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
The next morning, after first meal, Lukka quietly got up and entered the fresher, closing the door behind him. Kreel sat at the table, sipping at his caf, and waited to see what came out again. It took a while and he felt a small pang of impatience at how long the teen was taking but when the door finally opened Kreel nearly choked on his drink. Draped in soft fabric that clung to his slender frame the teen shyly stepped closer for inspection. His hair was pulled up in a high tail, long tendrils framing his round face before looping back up to the clip that was holding up the rest of his hair. Around his black-lined eyes there was a dusting of silver powder and smoky gray eyeshadow. It made his eyes pop in a way that took Kreel's breath away. The teen wore no jewelry except for the belled bangles around his ankles, that gently tinkled when he walked.
"Does my appearance please you, master?" The teen asked him, head tilting ever so slightly to the side in curiosity. Kreel had to swallow the lump in his throat and take a few deep breaths to clear his mind.
"You look fine." He said gruffly, nodding in approval. His expression darkened slightly and he pointed to the floor in front of him. "Come here." Lukka froze for a moment, surprised, before his shoulders relaxed and he quickly came closer. Kreel reached out and ran his hands down the teen's mostly bare arms, watching him shiver at the gentleness of the caress. "Will you be able to handle this?"
Lukka looked up into his eyes before tucking his chin to his chest and staring at the floor. "I'll have to." Was the quiet response. Kreel had no real counter for that.
"Then let's go." Winding an arm possessively around Lukka's waist they left the small apartment and began the long walk to the arena.
Servants and other slaves quickly got out of their way whenever they spotted the two of them, knowing better than to get in the Gamemaster's way. Some watched the teen with pity, others with curiosity. More than a few of them began whispering behind their backs the moment they thought he was out of range, or thought he didn't care enough to investigate the murmurs behind him. What he heard wasn't flattering but at least it sounded like they were mostly targeting him and not the teen pressed against his side.
When they arrived at the arena he took his customary seat near Grakkus, greeting the Hutt with a low bow. Lukka, being a lower ranked slave, went to his knees in front of the Hutt, bowing until his forehead nearly touched the ground.
"I see you are enjoying the pet I bought you. Good." Lukka hid his small shudder of revulsion well. "He is a pretty little thing. I was surprised to find where your interests lay." Kreel doubted that. The Hutt seemed far too amused for it to be the truth. He stood back up and shrugged, knowing that Grakkus preferred him to act like the ruthless gladiator who didn't stand on ceremony all the time.
"I know what I like." He said, voice cold as he trailed his eyes over Lukka's back and his mouth twisted into a leering grin. The Hutt laughed.
"As long as you continue to perform well you can keep your little pet. The moment you begin to slip…" Grakkus left the threat unfinished and Kreel bit his tongue so he didn't curse. He knew the teen would be used against him.
"Having a pet isn't going to wind me." He growled lowly. "The moment he becomes a problem I'll punish him myself." Looking down at Lukka, who hadn't moved, he sent out a silent apology before reaching down and grabbing him by the arm. "Come!" He barked, pulling the teen to his feet. Startled Lukka quickly scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with fear, as Gamemaster pulled him close.
"Try not to break him too quickly." The Hutt chuckled, waving them off. Kreel let out a slow breath of relief even as he tugged Lukka along to the Gamemaster's usual seat. For now he would only be spectating the matches. When it came to the finals Grakkus would expect him to fight the challengers.
Sitting down he pulled Lukka with him, wrapping his arm around the teen's waist and leaning back to watch the poor bastards currently fighting down on the arena floor. The blood and violence wasn't new to him and as his eyes raked over the field he picked out a few fighters he thought might make it to the next round. Beside him he heard a gasp as one of the fighters disemboweled their opponent. Guts and gore spilled out onto the sand as a cheer went up from the stands. Lukka began to tremble, hands tightening in his lap as his face paled.
Kreel wanted to curse. He should have known the sheltered teen had never seen this kind of violence before. Leaning close to Lukka he pressed his nose into the hair just above the teen's ear. "I'm going to pull you into my lap, will you be able to stay calm?"
"Y-yes…" He didn't sound too sure but Kreel couldn't really fault him for that. Lifting the lithe teen wasn't even a hassle, he was too slender and short to weigh much. Slipping Lukka between his legs he pulled the teen back to rest against his chest, one hand resting on his knee and the other wrapped firmly around his waist to keep him steady.
"Just keep your head down. It'll be over soon." Lukka looked up at him, their eyes locking for a moment, before he was ducking his head again shyly.
Kreel knew there were eyes on them, some curious and others scrutinizing, but there wasn't anything he could do about it besides glare at anyone who got too close or stared at them too long. He continued to speak with Lukka, pretending to whisper filthy things in the teen's ear and giving him instructions on how to react to keep up the appearance. But mostly he just talked the blonde through some breathing exercises and explained how the arena worked. The more Lukka knew the better his chances of survival.
He still wasn't sure why the teen's survival was so important, just knew that it was.
Thankfully the teen seemed to calm down fairly quickly, even if the violence still made him uncomfortable. When the mid-point of the tournament began Lukka froze in his arms, making him frown. "What's wrong?"
"I c-can't… I can't." Following the teen's gaze he saw the scantily clad and obviously collared slaves as they were forced into the arena with nothing more than a spear in their hands and he felt his own disgust rise. They were going to unleash a group of vicious animals on them. It would be an absolute slaughter. Grakkus' favorite kind of entertainment.
"Get up." He growled, unwrapping his arm from around the teen's waist. Lukka looked back at him in surprise. "I said up!" He barked. Lukka scrambled to his feet, hands clasped in front of him and head bowed, shoulders hunched in fear. "Go be useful and get me something to drink." The teen's eyes lit slightly with understanding and he quickly bowed low before hurrying off toward the service corridor. It would give the teen the excuse he needed to leave so he didn't need to watch the carnage about to unfold.
He worried that something would happen to Lukka while the teen wasn't under his watchful eye but he couldn't go with him. He just hoped nothing went awry.
Walking through the halls, following his way back toward the last junction he remembered passing when they'd left their quarters that morning, Lukka bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his panic under control. From where he had been sitting with the Gamemaster he could see the fear, desperation, and hopelessness on the faces of the slaves who were about to be set upon by wild beasts. It made his stomach want to revolt at the very thought. It was no wonder Gamemaster had so many scars if this was the kind of thing their master subjected his slaves to.
Lukka had heard of Grakkus' reputation but Pantarl and his old master, Raje, had always tried to keep him in the dark about such things. Now he knew why. He would never be able to handle such wanton cruelty.
Once he'd calmed down and found his way to the kitchens he quickly asked for a pitcher of wine watered down with fruit juice. He wasn't sure if Gamemaster would be fighting or not but something told him it was very likely. Straight wine would hinder the man, make him vulnerable, and Lukka didn't want that. At the moment the only thing between himself and a creature like Grakkus was Gamemaster. He shuddered at the thought of the violent slug being his direct master.
When he had the pitcher of wine, a cup, and some fruit he picked up the tray and hurried back. Even if he didn't want to return he knew he couldn't stay away long or he would be punished, whether Gamemaster wanted to do it or not. They were already living dangerously close to the edge and he feared that at some point one of them would have to do something they would regret.
While hurrying down the halls felt something tingle down his spine and slowed as he neared another junction. With no one else around he was able to pick up the sound of heated whispering and immediately reached for the calmness of the void, the quiet place where no one seemed to notice him. "…kriffing Gamemaster!" Hearing his master's name he stopped and turned toward the hall where he could hear the voices. He wanted to keep going, to ignore the possible danger and go back to his protector, but something urged him toward the hall. Carefully setting down the tray, out of the way so no one would trip on it, he snuck quietly down the hall toward the whispers.
"…re you insane? If this fails we'll all be karked!" Stopping at the end of the hall he peered into a room where two human men were talking. One was wearing well tailored clothes and looked to be some sort of noble, perhaps a governor. The other man was rugged, his clothes well worn with weapons strapped to his person.
"If you do your job well enough then everything will be fine, won't it?" There was a low angry hiss and Lukka felt his heart begin thudding in his chest.
"You're tellin me ta poison a man that works directly under Grakkus, one'a his fav'rites, in 'is own arena? You c'n take your job and shove't." He heard the scrape of a wooden chair on hard stone and winced at the sound.
"You haven't even heard the price, yet." The noble said with a sniff of disdain.
"Well I ain't inter-" Whatever the man was about to say was suddenly cut off as someone grabbed him and threw him against the far wall. He fell back into the hard stone with a thump, letting out a small, pained, cry. The two men in the room came rushing out and glared between him and a third man, a man that Lukka hadn't felt coming.
"What the kriff? Yacov, who's this?" The third man, who was also wearing weapons and body armor, never took his eyes off of Lukka.
"A little spy." Lukka's eyes widened and he shook his head, denial on the tip of his tongue. The nobleman stepped forward and looked down at him with disgust.
"A stray slave, no doubt spying for their master. I will take my leave here, since we've been compromised. Do whatever you want, but my offer is still open." Without another word the nobleman turned on his heel and strode down the hall, disappearing around the corner. The two mercenaries looked at one another then back at Lukka. Every instinct told him to run away but his body just wouldn't move.
The man who had found him out, Yavoc, pulled a knife and eyed him with ill intent. Taking a step forward he was stopped by the mercenary who'd been talking to the nobleman. They shared a look for a moment, Yavoc incredulous and the other mercenary looking smug. With a disgusted snort Yacov put his knife back and walked far down the hall, standing with his back to them and keeping an eye out.
"Hey there, darlin. I think there's been a little misunderstandin here." The man spoke, his voice almost sickly sweet as he stalked closer. "Sweet things like you shouldn'a be wanderin around alone." Curling in on himself as the man came closer he glanced toward the open hall and heard the mercenary chuckle darkly. "You ain't gettin away with Yacov there. He'll gut ya, no questions." The man's hand darted out and grabbed him hard by the wrist. "I'm a lil' nicer than that. Jus' sit pretty and listen ta Kivone. Be a good boy and I'll let ya go after." Lukka could practically feel the man's intent like a slime covered tendril as it wound around him and he shook his head, trying to pull away.
"N-no…" The man's other hand came up and grabbed him by the shoulder. Yanked away from the wall he was turned around and pressed back into it again, a knife appearing from nowhere to be held in front of his face.
"I won' hesitate ta cut ya. Just cause I'm nicer don' mean I won' hurt ya ta get what I want." When he stopped struggling the man slid the knife back into wherever he'd been hiding it before reaching up to stroke his hair, like one might to a pet. The hand suddenly tightened around his hair and yanked his head back, making him gasp in pain. A hot mouth latched onto his shoulder and he hissed as teeth bit down, leaving a horrible red mark against his pale skin. The mercenary's other hand roamed his body, starting at his chest and moving down until he was fondling Lukka through his clothes.
"Stop!" He demanded, trying to push himself away from the wall but unable to match the larger mercenary's strength. The hand around his lower region tightened, which pulled a strangled gasp of pain from his lips.
"Some nice sounds you're makin." The mercenary breathed in his ear, sounding even more excited. "I'm gonna enjoy f-" Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by an enraged roar. One moment the mercenary was behind him, hands firmly on his person, and the next Lukka was falling to the ground as the mercenary was ripped away from him.
Crawling backward he stopped when he recognized the large form between him and the mercenary. Gamemaster's chest heaved, eyes sharp as a blade, as he grabbed the mercenary and slammed his head into the wall twice before letting the man slump to the floor. Lukka wasn't sure whether he was unconscious or dead and he didn't want to know. Turning back to look at him the Gamemaster's eyes roamed over his body and he seemed to relax when he realized that Lukka was physically undamaged.
"Alright?" He asked, voice rough and carrying down the hallway that was now filled with curious onlookers.
"Y-yes, master." It took all of his strength to get to his feet without tripping over his limbs, which felt like jelly from the sheer relief of having Gamemaster nearby. The man gave him a small nod before his eyes turned fierce once more and he addressed the onlookers.
"No one touches what's mine! The next one who does will be flayed alive." He snapped, as if it were a promise and not a simple threat. Warning given he strode over to Lukka and wrapped an arm around him. "I'm going to help you back to our seat then I have to go fight. Will you be okay up there by yourself for now?" Lukka wasn't sure that he would be but he nodded anyway.
"Of course, master. I'm fine." Blue-grey eyes looked at him and he knew his lie hadn't been believed. But it didn't matter. They had to press on regardless.
"Tell me what happened." Lukka flinched but did as he was told while Gamemaster walked him back to their seat. Quietly he explained what he'd overheard and described the strange nobleman. The man looked furious, though Lukka could tell it wasn't aimed at him. "Don't worry about it. I'll deal with it later."
After settling him in the seat they'd occupied before Gamemaster quickly disappeared. Lukka couldn't help fidgeting when he realized people were staring at him. He knew he must look like a mess after being… he shook his head and pushed what he was feeling down and away, to deal with later when he was in relative safety. The appearance of Gamemaster down on the sand made Lukka lean forward in concern. Yet as the cheers rose he felt a sense of determination, pride, wariness, and surety that seemed to be coming from the man standing proudly in the center of the arena.
As the two combatants stood, waiting for Grakkus to begin the match, Lukka's eyes fell on the weapon in Gamemaster's hand. It wasn't one he was familiar with. It looked like a small tube of some sort that fit comfortable in the man's hand yet he couldn't figure out just what it might be. Perhaps a shock whip of some sort? Yet out of all the weapons in Gamemaster's quarters he had only ever seen swords or knives.
His question was answered once the match began. A green blade of light erupted from the cylinder in Gamemaster's hand and Lukka instantly felt a connection with the strange blade. It was like something was calling out to him.
The match went by in a blur as his eyes never left the gleaming blade in Gamemaster's hands. Lukka only snapped out of it once the blade had been turned off and Gamemaster was making his way back to their seat.
"You were watching." Gamemaster said quietly as he pulled Lukka closer, careful not to crowd him too much.
"The blade… it was beautiful." Gamemaster looked down at him, a small smirk curling his lips upward.
"I know what you mean."