Master and Slave by hedda_1 [Drabble #174]
Title: Master and Slave
Author: Hedda
Theme: Coin
Genre: Drama, Dark
Rating: T
Warnings: Crude language, but only a little.
Word Count: 400
Summary: Sometimes we are not master of our own fate...
A/N: Started out as a poem, then I wrote prose. That didn't play out very well, so I continued the poem and returned ultimately to this form again.. I may finish the poem one day, or I may not. Dame Fortune is not the only fickle one *is glaring daggers at the muses*.
I have been waiting for you, so why don’t you come a little bit closer? Yes, closer, so that I can feel your aversion to me. You have never put your faith in things that are beyond your control, isn’t that true, Lord Sesshomaru?
That is, until now...
The great Lord Sesshomaru, whose legendary power is well-known even in the most remote corners of the world and yet, you have come to seek my alliance. Me, an ordinary coin, a piece of metal shaped by the hands of men. Mine is the role of Dame Fortune’s henchman.
Your cold hand encloses me tightly; I do feel your radiating strength, threatening to melt me. But Fortune is a fickle whore that neither can be impressed by strength nor wisdom. And you are aware of that truth, as I am aware of your fear.
Yes, fear, Sesshomaru.
If I show my head, you will be able to embrace your cherished human priestess again. However, if I show my tail, you will lose her for all eternity. Oh, how you despise your powerlessness! Still, you have no choice, you have to accept my verdict. You have no choice, but to become a slave to Dame Fortune.
No matter who you are, no matter how strong, how cunning or how rich you are: At the end of the day, at the end of the night, we’re all depending on her affection. Sometimes, we try to grab her by the long strands of her hair, but when she turns her back at us, we find the back of her head to be bald. After all, we all are slaves to her vicissitudes.
Finally, you release me and I am falling, deeper and deeper, never letting you out of my sight. The die has been cast - or rather the coin.
And so I begin my dance.
I get glimpses of your anxious face, as I am spinning around.
Should I stop now and save your beloved’s life?
Should I stop now and destroy your beloved’s life?
Sometimes it is a fine line between victory and defeat; sometimes a half turn of something as insignificant as a coin can sustain one man’s hope or shatter them.
Which one will it be?
I hear my mistress’s silky voice: her wish is my every command.
Thus I slow down, staggering until I lie flat on the ground.
You lose.
Author: Hedda
Theme: Coin
Genre: Drama, Dark
Rating: T
Warnings: Crude language, but only a little.
Word Count: 400
Summary: Sometimes we are not master of our own fate...
A/N: Started out as a poem, then I wrote prose. That didn't play out very well, so I continued the poem and returned ultimately to this form again.. I may finish the poem one day, or I may not. Dame Fortune is not the only fickle one *is glaring daggers at the muses*.
I have been waiting for you, so why don’t you come a little bit closer? Yes, closer, so that I can feel your aversion to me. You have never put your faith in things that are beyond your control, isn’t that true, Lord Sesshomaru?
That is, until now...
The great Lord Sesshomaru, whose legendary power is well-known even in the most remote corners of the world and yet, you have come to seek my alliance. Me, an ordinary coin, a piece of metal shaped by the hands of men. Mine is the role of Dame Fortune’s henchman.
Your cold hand encloses me tightly; I do feel your radiating strength, threatening to melt me. But Fortune is a fickle whore that neither can be impressed by strength nor wisdom. And you are aware of that truth, as I am aware of your fear.
Yes, fear, Sesshomaru.
If I show my head, you will be able to embrace your cherished human priestess again. However, if I show my tail, you will lose her for all eternity. Oh, how you despise your powerlessness! Still, you have no choice, you have to accept my verdict. You have no choice, but to become a slave to Dame Fortune.
No matter who you are, no matter how strong, how cunning or how rich you are: At the end of the day, at the end of the night, we’re all depending on her affection. Sometimes, we try to grab her by the long strands of her hair, but when she turns her back at us, we find the back of her head to be bald. After all, we all are slaves to her vicissitudes.
Finally, you release me and I am falling, deeper and deeper, never letting you out of my sight. The die has been cast - or rather the coin.
And so I begin my dance.
I get glimpses of your anxious face, as I am spinning around.
Should I stop now and save your beloved’s life?
Should I stop now and destroy your beloved’s life?
Sometimes it is a fine line between victory and defeat; sometimes a half turn of something as insignificant as a coin can sustain one man’s hope or shatter them.
Which one will it be?
I hear my mistress’s silky voice: her wish is my every command.
Thus I slow down, staggering until I lie flat on the ground.
You lose.