Sol’s next few days were spent in a feverish daze. He lay, curled in a ball on his Master’s bed, falling in and out of a painful sleep. His Master remained by his side, caring for him. Though this fact was only registered through blurred eyes, which made him unsure whether or not it really was his Master beside him. But the fresh, cold smell that wrapped itself around him, and the familiar hand that rubbed his scalp always allowed Sol recognize his Master.

And now, Sol peered up at his Master as he looked through a stack of documents in one hand – the other had situated itself in Sol’s hair. He emitted a weak purr - to reassure.

"You're awake." His Master placed the papers on his bed, turning to Sol, "How do you feel?"

Sol crooned, a soft feeble sound that made his Master shift closer, golden eyes tinted with worry. The world tilted as his head was lifted and glass pressed against his chapped lips. Sol drunk, gagging at the thick, bitter liquid that invaded his mouth.

Disgusting.

Sol puffed his cheeks, refusing the instinct to swallow as his mouth filled, resembling the image of a child taking bad tasting medicine. His Master sighed.

"Swallow, pet," He scraped his nails pleasurably against the underneath of Sol's chin.

Reluctantly, he let the liquid slide down his throat. His stomach recoiled and nausia washed through him. His Master's hands in his hair were a warm comfort as he retched. Sol could feel his Master's complacent gaze watching him as he dry-heaved, doing nothing to help him, simply observing. He curled a finger around one of his silver locks.

"As I thought," He mused, "I can't leave you here."

Exhausted, Sol nuged his head against the other hand still holding him up and gently, it was lowered. He whined as his Master withdrew, dissolving their contact. Then, the matress sunk and the bed covers shifted and the warmth was back. He shifted, ignoring the nausia that came with the movement, and pressed himself into the muscly chest, relaxing contentedly in the safety of his Master's embrace. A thumb stroked his flushed cheeks.

"You have two days left to recover," His Master's voice rumbled in Sol's ears, "Then, we will leave for the Black Planet."

Sol tensed, anxiety spreading through him at the name. Why? He flinched at the lips that feathered against his temple.

"There is no need for you to be scared, Sol." His Master pressed another kiss against the back of his neck, "It's only for a council meeting, then a quick trip to survey the other auctions..."

The Black Planet was the planet that lay home to the Slave Auctions. It was where slaves were provided, produced, farmed, and once a year, harbored the Council Meetings. Council Meetings took place when all heads of the Slave Auctions gather, each head representing a planet along with that planet's sub-planets. Most of the time, the head of the planet and Slave Auctions were the same, so this rare gathering is often used to discuss matters of more importance.

His Master's voice faded as Sol's eyelids grew heavy, closing against his will. His Master smiled - although it was nothing more than a slight upturn of the lips - as he drew his hand rhythmically over Sol's still form.