Ok! Here's the sequel for Masters and Servants! :D It's actually one big long entry in the Kink Meme, but I wanted to break it up into sections. The rating will go way up once I reach chapter 3 though, because I wrote my first lemon in this fic! ^_^

Anyway, hope you enjoy!


Ten years.

It had been ten, long, hard years, filled with heartache and blood and sacrifice. Sacrifice of flesh, of mind, of his very soul. But his ambition never wavered; he learned to kill, learned to deceive, he constrained his hatred for Zai Vassalius, no matter how much his mind screamed at him to kill him, and he had contracted himself with the Nightray Chain. He never thought of giving up. He never lost that tiny glimmer of hope in his heart.

Because it was all to see is precious Master Oz again...

He had had dreams about their reunion, beautiful dreams that he often chose to view as premonitions during the difficult times. Things that would be. He would contract Raven, and use the chain to travel to the depths of the Abyss. He would get his master back, they would embrace, kiss, share in those wonderful secret moments once again, and then Gil could tell him. He could tell him he was sorry, that he had thought about him every day, that he loved him with every fiber of his being and that he had regretted never telling him since the day they had parted.

But in the end, those were only silly dreams.

When Gilbert had run to his master's side on his return from the Abyss and gathered the young boy in his arms, he had been shocked. He was so... small. His body was so much smaller, far more fragile than he had remembered. And light, he noted when he had slipped his arms beneath his master's shoulders and legs and carried him to the carriage. Had his master always been so... delicate?

Or was it because Gil was now a man, tall and strong and rough, the opposite of everything his master was. The opposite of everything he had been when his master had left. Why had his dreams never thought of that? Why did Oz look exactly how Gil had thought he would, yet completely different when compared with himself?

Why was he so young? So small?

Why was Gil so old?



He couldn't bring himself to hold Oz close to him when no one was looking, for fear of causing aggravation to the injury on the boys shoulder. A fresh, sensitive injury, yet it was one that Gil had given him over ten years ago...

Ten years...

"I will never be able to kiss him again..." he had thought later that night, as he sat at the edge of Oz's bed and watched him sleep. The changes in Gil, the things he had done, how much he had grown while his master remained young, it was all too much. Oz would never accept him, not enough to get close to him like they had been all those years ago. It was wrong, anyway. Gil was twenty-four, and Oz was still fifteen. It was wrong...

It had been easier to be Raven after that realization. If he had to keep his distance from his master, it would be far less painful and awkward for both of them if he was not 'Gil'. He would embrace his second identity and stay by Oz's side as a bodyguard appointed by Pandora. It was difficult, but if he could stay by Oz's side he was satisfied.

He had not been 'Gil' since the day Oz had been dragged into the Abyss, anyway. The name that his master had taken to calling him, he didn't want to hear it. When it wasn't Oz who said it, the one who gave it, the one who gifted the nickname to him, it was like a slap in the face. He was Gilbert. Gilbert Nightray. And now Raven. And that was they way it would have to stay...

But when Break had left them alone for a moment, Sharon sleeping quietly in the sofa across the room, Raven pressed his lips softly against the boy's forehead.

He felt disgusted with himself.


Oz was quite willing to accept that the grown man before him was his servant.

He was Gil, who no more than a week ago (at least, that's how it felt to him) had been the victim of Oz's teasing jibes, subject to his master's boasting of how he would always be taller than Gil, always stronger than Gil, and that if Gil did grow too much then Oz would have to set an army of cats upon him as punishment. Gil had squeaked in fear, taking his master seriously, as always, and instantly bowed his head and said 'I'm sorry!' for no justifiable reason, to which Oz had simply laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Don't worry Gil!" He had said, "It'll never happen!"

Staring up at Gil now as he discussed Break's newest assignment when another Pandora member, a towering dark figure, almost threatening, Oz saw that it was not only his servants height that had changed. His mannerisms were sterner, at least when he was with others. He smoked. His jaw line was sharper, his shoulders wider and stiffer. He no longer held his head down, trying to appear small. His eyes were sharp, devoid of the innocence they once held, stolen by the trials and harsh realities of an adult world. And darker still was Gil's world than that of many others would have to face.

But he was still Gil. It had been ten years, of course his servant was going to change and grow, become stronger, but he was still his Gil. He still refused to break his promise of forever, he had been by his side from the moment he escaped the Abyss with Alice, he looked out for him and, now more than ever, he protected him, took care of him...

All these things Oz could accept.

But in doing so, he had to accept just how different Gil was.

He was still Gil. He was still everything that made him Gil. But he was different.

And in accepting that, he worried if things really could still be the same between them.