The Kingdom of White
Summary: When a royal decree goes too far, the oppressive prince from the Kingdom of White is attacked by the rivaling Kingdom of Blue. Meanwhile, Bakura, twin and servant to the young ruler, tries desperately to rid his hands of innocent blood. [BxR]
Rated: T
Genre: Drama
Author's Note: I'm stepping way out of my comfort zone for this story...
In this story, Bakura and Ryou are twins, and they will be very close. Whether this is brotherly love (like the Hitachiin twins from Ouran High School Host Club) or your standard Tendershipping situation totally depends on how you want to look it.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi; story inspired by Vocaloid's Servant of Evil saga.
-
1 – A Place Called Nowhere
An aging man clothed in once-green fabric was being through the too-clean streets of the Kingdom of White, receiving jeers from the well dressed inhabitants of a small, wealthy town that lay before an impressive castle. Appearing as if it was taken from the pages of a child's bedtime story, the looming structure seemed to be carved out of a single (admittedly very large) block of marble, its polished white exterior resembling that of a pearl. Colored flags of gold and red fluttered proudly in the light breeze flowing throughout the kingdom, each banner bearing the crest of the royal family.
Flanked by two burly soldiers, the peasant was shoved into a waiting carriage, drawn by two beautiful horses. Staring at the expensive shops and boutiques from the coach's lavish interior, he couldn't help but compare this town's prosperity to his own town's wretched poverty. Food and garments reserved for special occasions back home were treated as everyday commodities here. He felt so inferior to his surroundings, like a cockroach inside the palace grounds.
After being taken through a courtyard containing a massive number of almost blooming white flowers, the soldiers led him from the carriage and dropped him unceremoniously onto a long stretch of gold trimmed red carpet that led up to a raised platform. On said platform was a large, garishly decorated golden throne, encrusted with gems and stones of every conceivable color. Seated on it was a young man of twenty two years, skin and hair as pale as the castle he resided in.
Dressed in a luxurious pale blue robe, the crown prince of the Kingdom of White was renowned throughout the surrounding provinces for being nothing short of a tyrant. Though he presented himself in a very gentle and calm manner, everyone knew that a cold heart beat within, and anyone brave enough to voice that observation would soon lose their head. Ryou Touzoku had a very odd, almost unnatural fascination with the guillotine, and enjoyed watching it being put into use.
Standing to his right, face shadowed by thick white bangs as well as a wide brimmed cap, was his attendant, known only as Bakura. His striking similarity to the monarch, from the pale skin to the russet eyes, did not go unnoticed by the townspeople. However, whenever the topic was brought into attention, Ryou vehemently denied any relation. Only those present at the prince's birth knew the truth.
Bakura was, in fact, Ryou's identical twin brother, visibly alike in nearly every aspect.
Just minutes after their birth, their father, the now exiled King, declared that only one of his two sons would be raised as his heir; the other would be fated to life in the royal stables. The determining factor in this decision was a single mark of imperfection upon Bakura's face: a very distinct birthmark just under his right eye. Ryou was ultimately chosen to be the next in line for the throne, and Bakura was quietly sent away to grow up watching his mirror image live the life he would never know.
A tragic twist of fate had brought the brothers together once again, however, the stark difference in upbringing made them even more different than anyone could have thought.
"Your majesty, at per your request, we have brought Kiku Jounouchi from the Land of Green." One of the soldiers announced after giving a lively salute.
"Well, that was very timely. Good work, both of you" the monarch smiled, adjusting a silver crown that crossed his forehead. "You are excused."
"Yes your majesty," they chorused, each giving a respectful bow before exiting the palace.
The young prince's large mahogany eyes then turned to the trembling man before him, glittering with an odd amusement.
"So, your name is Kiku, correct?"
"M-My prince," he stuttered nervously, "please, I-I haven't done a-anything wrong, I d-don't understand why you felt you h-had to b-bring–"
"Quiet."
The peasant was immediately silent.
"I'd very much appreciate it if you would kindly answer the questions that I ask you," Ryou said in an offended tone. "Unless of course, a yes or no response is simply too difficult for a commoner like yourself to accomplish. If that is the case, then you aren't much use to me or to yourself, now are you? So once again: Your name is Kiku, correct?"
"Y-Yes your majesty."
"Very good," the prince cooed, as if he were talking to a child. "Now, do you know why my men have brought you to me?"
"No your m-majesty."
"Oh really?"
The man looked up apprehensively and shook his head.
"Don't think we haven't noticed that the amount of taxes your family pays is unequal to the number of heads in your household," Ryou said with a condescending smile. "Would you care to explain why before I try and 'fix' the problem myself?"
The commoner's eyes widened. "Please your majesty; m-my youngest daughter, she was born with an affliction that has left her unable to see... Until just recently a friend of the family has been picking up her slack, but...well, you had him executed him a few weeks ago under charges of starting up a rebellion against the crown..."
"You must be more specific; I don't remember every head that plops into that basket you know."
"Um...his name was Emil your majesty..."
"Oh, him," the prince laughed dismissively, giving his brother a light shove. "Isn't that cute? He expects me to remember them all by name." He turned to the cowering man, mahogany eyes gleaming in mirth. "Well, I suppose I'll take your word for it; I wouldn't want the palace staff to get their hands dirty checking over a silly matter like this."
"Thank–"
"Ah ah, I'm not done," Ryou huffed. "Please do not assume that your useless daughter somehow excuses you from having to pay the kingdom what is due. Blind or not, everybody living within a province under the protection of the Kingdom of White must carry their own weight. So right now, you have two options;" he raised a pale finger, "either you have the other members of your family work harder to help pay for her share, or," he raised another, "I solve the problem myself by taking her head." A shrug. "Your choice."
"I'll...I'll get on it immediately your majesty; I swear we'll be able to meet your requirements by the next collection day!"
"Excuse me; what have you decided? The first of second option?"
"T-The first your majesty. My son Katsuya has more than enough energy to make up for her."
"What a shame," he scoffed. "I would've been doing all of you a favor." The young prince snapped his fingers, "Someone escort this man back to the Land of Green, and make sure he doesn't leave a stain on the royal carriages." He looked over his shoulder. "Bakura, is there anyone else I have to see?"
"Not immediately," his mirror image replied, keeping his head bowed. "But we've just sent a portion of our soldiers to deal with a recent insurgence at the Village of Red. I thought you might want to be there during the execution of their leaders."
"How thoughtful of you," Ryou giggled. "Yes, it's been a while since our last public guillotine display."
"Shall I escort you your majesty?"
"If you wish," the prince shrugged. "But there really isn't anything to worry about over there. I mean, what's the worse that could happen? I get a few rotten potatoes thrown at me? Ha!" He slammed a fist on the throne's arm. "Please. By resisting my power those villagers are just asking to be put to death. And being the generous man I am, I'm only too happy to oblige."
"Your charity knows no bounds your highness," Bakura agreed, a slight glint in his eye. "Those in the Village of Red are foolish to think otherwise."
"Hmph."
"Is something wrong?"
"Aren't you going to tell me that I was being too harsh with that commoner?" Ryou said grimly. "How I should've taken pity on his blind child? How I shouldn't have threatened her with death?" His eyes narrowed. "How I should have been more like father?"
"Why would I?" Bakura asked disinterestedly. "You were named his heir for a reason, weren't you?"
"It could have just as easily been you my dear brother," the other smirked, interlacing their fingers. "If the fates had been kinder to you on our birthday, perhaps you wouldn't have been born with that disgusting mark on your face. What a frightening thought," he scoffed. "You, a king."
His twin stayed silent, staring determinedly at the marble floor.
"Father was too kind," Ryou continued, rising to his feet. "That's why people took advantage of him; he'd allow those commoners to pay their taxes months after they were due. Not only were we losing money for the crown, but we didn't even have enough to defend ourselves from enemy attacks. The late King of Blue didn't hesitate to challenge us because he knew father wouldn't have the guts to fight back. A person like him should have never been allowed to run a country."
"You must admit," Bakura said quietly, eyes still trained on the ground, "our father was held in a higher regard than you were. You're ruling this country through fear...and fear doesn't necessarily guarantee respect in the sense you might think it does. You aren't a kind ruler your majesty..."
"I'm not a weak ruler," the younger twin corrected, giving his brother a look. "If being able to hold our own against the Blue Kingdom means having to work our citizens a teeny bit harder, then so be it."
"Disgruntled citizens are just as likely to attack the White Crown as the Blue Kingdom is, if not more so" the other protested. "I'm merely suggesting that coming off as less of a tyrant may help to stop the violent uprisings in the Village of Red."
"Our mother is dead because he thought being liked by those poor nothings was more important than doing what needed to be done," Ryou snarled, eyes shining. "Thanks to me, we have an army. Thanks to me, we have some of the most advanced military weapons available. Thanks to me, our people are safe. Father's soft heart put this whole country in danger, and our mother paid the price for it. If you think I'm about to let that happen again–"
"Have you even considered the possibility that these insurrections may be a sign that you're being a little too forceful?" Bakura retorted, unable to hold his tongue any longer. "The Blue Kingdom may be a more powerful opponent, but we can just as easily be taken apart from inside out."
"Which is why I don't allow any known protestors to live," Ryou said proudly. "There is nothing more disheartening to a rebellious group than to see their leader without a head. This reminds me," he adjusted the silver crown once again, "there's an execution I must attend. Bakura?"
"Yes your majesty," the other bowed, fighting back the urge to shout some sense into the emotional monarch. True, their exiled father may have indirectly caused their mother's early demise, but if Ryou didn't realize his actions were creating a volatile environment within their two provinces, then he would have to find a way to convince him before it was too late.
"How unfortunate," Ryou sighed, leading the way to the courtyard. "It looks like I'm going to miss tea time."
-
Under the shadow of a large mountain was the proud Village of Red; once a province of the Blue Kingdom, it was won in a rather bloody war by the Kingdom of White, a fact that its citizens didn't accept too willingly. There had been many uprisings resisting the heavy taxation and restrictions placed on them by the young prince, all of them ended in the death of nearly two dozen leaders and their supporters. Sometimes the executions were done in secret; Ryou would send someone to deal with a list of known protestors and the matter would be dealt with the following nights. Most of the time however, he would order his soldiers to capture the rebellion leaders by any means they saw fit, which usually included the needless burning of one or two of the village's buildings. After the display of dominance, the bound men would be killed in a public execution, meant to keep the rest of the citizens in their place.
However, the ringleader of most, if not all of the insurgencies, was never found. Isis Ishtar, an attractive, intelligent woman with kind eyes, was at the center of the protests; originally from the Land of Green, she moved to the Village of Red in hopes of escaping the White Kingdom's rule. To her absolute horror, she found herself under it once again when her current residence was forcibly taken over. Those who supported her always assured her that their premature deaths (for it was almost certain they would be found out) were of their own choosing, and that she shouldn't blame herself when their time came. She always did of course; though her hatred for the White Kingdom was strong, her empathy for the men she essentially sentenced to death was even stronger.
And this time, her determination to free the Village of Red from the White Prince would be put to the ultimate test.
The citizens of the village were rounded up by the prince's soldiers and gathered around a large wooden platform, upon which stood a towering guillotine called 'The Madame.' Isis was barely visible amongst the sea of faces; she was accompanied by Atemu, a long time friend and supporter. Though rather strict, he had always been there to lend her the support and reassurance she desperately needed.
"Look at him sitting there," he muttered to her, violet eyes narrowing. "This is like his idea of afternoon entertainment..."
"He's caught three of them this time," she whispered worriedly. "Either they're not doing a good job of hiding or I'm doing a terrible job of leading..."
"Quit berating yourself," the vertically challenged man said in annoyance. "It's getting old Isis. They knew this was coming, you knew this was coming."
"That doesn't make it any easier..."
"...I know."
Ryou motioned for the soldiers to bring up their captives, all of which Isis knew on a personal level. In fact, one was...
"Mahaado!" Isis cried, moving towards the center of the crowd. Atemu grabbed her wrist quickly, pulling her back into the throng.
"Don't be an idiot!" he hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"They'll kill him," she panted, "in front of everyone! I can't just stand here and watch him die!"
"You don't want his soldiers to see your face either," Atemu muttered. "If they find out who you are, then they'll kill you right along with him. You can't just throw everything away a like this." His expression turned grave. "...Mahaado wouldn't want you to give up."
"So you want me to do nothing," Isis sobbed, tears running down her face. "You want me to sit quietly and...and observe as they force his head into the death notch? You want me to just accept that he's going to die right in front of me? Atemu," she whispered, lip trembling, "our wedding was next week..."
"I'm so sorry Isis," the other stressed, laying a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "You have to stay strong! You're our last chance to break away from the White Kingdom..."
"B-But..."
"Oh my; look at this lovely gathering," a soft voice said brightly, rising above the low growl of the crowd. "I'm very flattered that you all took a few hours out of your undoubtedly hectic lives to see your prince."
Thousands of eyes gazed angrily at the pale monarch, who looked strangely beautiful before a blazing house, torched previously by the initial raid. Ryou was flanked on either side by a dozen heavily armed soldiers as well as the ever watchful Bakura, who kept his head bowed, hiding his face. Behind him, gagged and bound, were the three men, each looking more defeated than the next. They were the leaders of the recent revolts against the White Crown, the ones who challenged the supremacy of their Prince. To Ryou, they were a dangerous threat to his country's safety, and would be dealt with as such.
"These criminals that kneel before me," the young prince continued, retaining his calm expression, "no doubt you've looked up to them as heroes, believed them to be your saviors from the tyrannical Kingdom of White." He scoffed. "Well look at them now, you sweet naïve fools. Perhaps, after I show you what happens to those who deny my rule, you'll begin to understand that my decisions are made for the good of everyone under our protection. What would I have to gain by making your lives miserable? Nothing. I just don't understand why you all can't see that."
After a dramatic sigh, he called for the closest captive to be brought up. Muddy brown hair falling messily over his tanned face, Mahaado struggled to remain dignified in his awkward position, making brief eye contact with his never-to-be wife before looking away in shame. Isis exhaled sharply, her grip around Atemu's wrist tightening into a suffocating hold.
"For those of you who know this man, this will be very difficult to watch," Ryou smiled innocently. "But alas, you all must be taught a lesson."
The soldiers raised their weapons, ready to strike down any villagers that attempted to retaliate. Mahaado was pulled towards the awaiting guillotine, head forced into the niche that was too big for his neck. The strained groan of the rope echoed throughout the village, which had suddenly become eerily silent. Atemu had clamped his hand over Isis's mouth, lest her wracked sobs draw the White Prince's attention.
The large blade had reached the top of the device, glinting maliciously from the flame's light. The entire structure creaked in anticipation.
"Do you have anything you want to say to me before I tell him to release the rope?" The prince asked solemnly, eyes narrowing. "Make it quick; there are two other people after you, and I'm missing tea time."
The man looked towards Isis again, offering a weak smile. He then closed his eyes in acceptance, resting against the smooth wood.
"To be honest," Mahaado said quietly, "you're nowhere near worth being the last person I speak of. You, who refuses to accept the title of king because you believe it makes you sound old. How vain."
Bakura's mouth twitched into a very faint grin.
"On that note," gray eyes opened for the final time, "Long Live the King of Blue!"
-
Off the Green Coast, the vague outline of a large island could be seen, forever surrounded by a thick blanket of heavy rain. This was the Kingdom of Blue, thought to be named for its nautical location, though, recently, 'blue' was used to jokingly describe its moody inhabitants. Its defining feature was a hulking castle made of heavy stone, looking decidedly less pristine than its mainland counterpart. Unlike the White Kingdom, which earned its wealth through excessive taxation of smaller provinces under its protection, the Blue Kingdom stayed afloat by manufacturing and selling weaponry. It was rumored that Ryou's favorite toy was purchased from the Blue Kingdom during a time when the latter was desperate for money.
Its current king, a blue eyed youth of twenty-six years named Seto Kaiba, took a very passive approach when it came to external affairs; preferring not to meddle with events on the mainland, he had been criticized by the local residents for being 'lazy' and 'good for nothing.' The harsh comments failed to impress him much, as he had heard his late father called much worse. He enjoyed dealing with the business side of the position; making sure they made a profit from everything sold, running quality checks on exported merchandise...that was his calling. Social turmoil was just so...bleh.
The monarch, dressed in deep blue and lacking a crown, was currently fighting to stay awake as an iron clad soldier explained why he had brought a half naked woman, soaking wet from the rain, into the stone fortress he was forced to call home. To his left stood a dark skinned youth with messy spikes running through his sandy blonde hair. While Seto at least attempted to feign interest, the other had given up completely, somehow remaining upright while he dozed off. He was cloaked in black, wearing an ornate belt that bore the crest of the Blue Kingdom's royal family.
"...Your majesty, I caught this impudent wretch making a spectacle of herself in the central marketplace," the bearded man explained, grabbing the woman's wrist. "She was shouting obscenities geared towards both the White and the Blue crown."
"Is that all?" the young king yawned, unimpressed. "You do know that this happens at least once a week..."
"She was topless."
A low chuckle was heard from the napping blonde.
"Is that why she caught your attention?" He snickered, eyes still closed.
The soldier flushed a very rosy pink. "N-Not at all!"
"Leave her here, I'll deal with her," Seto decided, waving the older man away.
The svelte woman wrenched her hand from her captor as he walked away, straightening her crooked dress. She then faced the king angrily, blue eyes blazing.
"My name is Kisara....and I hate you," she said simply.
"It is customary to prostrate yourself before royalty," Seto snorted, amused by her greeting. "But seeing as how you're clothed in what looks like an old curtain, I'll let you slide just this once."
"Why am I not surprised? It's not like you could be bothered to punish someone who has done something wrong."
"I don't think making a scene with your breasts hanging out deserves a visit to the guillotine," the young king replied coolly. "A doctor perhaps, but not the guillotine."
"How dare you speak to me like that," she growled, stamping her foot in frustration. "I'm not the one who's insane! You are! You and your whole pacifist stance regarding the tyranny of the White Kingdom! Me, insane, HA! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"
"Really?" Seto smirked. "That's interesting. Mariku, what do you think about Miss Kisara's claim?"
At this, two plum colored eyes opened lazily, reflecting a cunning beyond his twenty-four years.
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," the blonde muttered, earning a glare from his king.
"Somehow, hearing that come out of your mouth completely ruins its poetry," Seto sneered.
"Me also thinks his majesty would benefit from removing the unsightly stick lodged up his royal ass."
The pale brunette pinched the bridge of his nose irritably and turned back to the defiant woman, an exasperated look on his face.
"Look, I'm not going to do anything to you," he began reasonably, "but I can't pretend that your protests against the kingdom never happened. And in such a public area…"
"I needed a way to get your attention," she said passionately, "how on earth can you justify sitting here doing nothing when you know that the prince of the White Kingdom is grossly abusing his power? Their provinces are lying in shamble and poverty while the castle's town is drowning in its own guiltless wealth!"
"Well what exactly do you want me to do about it?" Seto shot back, blue eyes narrowing. "My father already attempted several attacks on the palace while that upstart brat was in charge; need I remind you that that was how he died?"
"But your highness, you haven't even tried!"
"I just don't find it necessary," he returned, slumping into his throne. "So far the White Kingdom hasn't tried to retaliate, and I don't want to be the one to break the silence. If we're to do battle with them, then let them make the first strike."
"The Village of Red will be nothing but ash by then!" she continued, stepping closer to the platform. "Please, you have to do something or else this entire country will be burned to the ground by the White flame!"
"Well maybe I'll send over one of our rain clouds to put it out." Seto chuckled dryly.
"Your majesty, please forgive my interruption," Mariku said suddenly, dark eyes glinting. "If you don't want to attack the White Kingdom directly then maybe you should try making an alliance with one of the provinces under its rule. After all, if the Village of Red is being, and I quote, 'burned to the ground,' then they're obviously unhappy with the prince as much as this woman is."
"Yes, because that handful of pathetic peasants will help our handful of slightly less pathetic peasants overthrow a well trained army of veteran soldiers."
"With my help they can," the other smiled lazily, placing a hand on the sword hanging at his side. "What the White Kingdom lacks is a captain for their military. They just do whatever the brat tells them to, and lately, that's been nothing but stomping down insurgencies. If we can organize an offensive force of our own using a select group of citizens from our kingdom, the Village of Red, and–"
"Hold on a moment," the young king interrupted, holding up a hand. "I don't want you discussing possible war plans out in the open; hopefully you understand my concerns."
"...Yes of course," Mariku sighed irritably, excitement level falling back to zero.
"Kisara, was it? We'll see what we can do," Seto told the woman, who now looked extremely hopeful. "But don't hold your breath. I'm not promising anyone anything."
"Thank you your majesty," she bowed gratefully.
"Someone please escort her out," he added, gesturing to a nearby soldier, who gave a brief nod before doing so.
"Now, as for you," the king sighed, turning to face the dark skinned blonde. "What's this about a plan to organize the smaller provinces?"
"Oh, am I allowed to speak again?" Mariku pouted.
"Grow up Inanna."
"Heh…" He perked up almost immediately. "I suggest that we recruit a few rebels from the Village of Red and the Land of Green. If we let them train in our militia, then they'll have the skill and the passion to take down the White Kingdom's brainless soldiers. Nothing fuels bloodshed more than hatred," the blonde smirked. "What more reason would they need to fight?"
"Did you say you wanted to look for recruits in the Land of Green?" Seto blinked, sitting up. "There's nothing but merchants in that town."
"I came from there!" Mariku objected.
"Yeah, and you left it."
"Just because they're not drawing attention to themselves by pissing off the White Prince every week doesn't mean they aren't ready to fight. For all you know, they could be planning some secret internal sabotage."
"For all I know or for all you know?" Seto said suspiciously. "You seem to be very invested in this Mariku."
"Does it matter if I may have some secondary incentives? As long as the White Kingdom is slapped off its pedestal, don't we all win?" The blonde smirked.
"..."
"My brilliance has once again left you speechless," Mariku said proudly.
"That place's name has always bothered me," the Blue King grumbled, annoyed. "Why is it called the Land of Green when it's a desert? Is there some fertile oasis tucked away in there that only the founder's knew about or...?"
"Local folklore says that it used to be a forest," the other answered after a few moments of silent pondering. "Apparently, a few years after the four provinces were created, the villagers living in the Land of Green did something to anger the four goddesses. As punishment, what was once dense woodland turned into a barren desert, cursed so that nothing green would ever grow until the blood of a golden phoenix soaked into the earth."
"So…they're pretty much screwed," Seto observed, drumming his fingers on the throne's arm. "Unless they can find something that doesn't exist. Good for you, running away and all."
"Looks like the symbolism flew right over thy royal head," Mariku huffed. "And I didn't run away. I took a temporary leave of absence."
"Six years is temporary?"
"Are you saying you don't appreciate my presence your majesty?" The blonde gasped, feigning hurt feelings. "Well in that case you can go find another good-looking mercenary who works for food!"
"I didn't hire you because you were cheap; I hired you because you had skill," Seto admitted grudgingly, averting his gaze. "And I wouldn't trust any of these decrepit soldiers with my clothes, much less my life."
"You'll have to say more than that to bandage my wounded heart," Mariku sobbed dramatically.
A loud boom of thunder startled the pair out of their snarky conversation. The young king rose from his throne and stood by his blonde companion, both listening to the rain slam harder onto the palace walls, drumming an angry, urgent beat.
"Well that's one way to end a conversation," Seto muttered, giving the other a look. "Shall we discuss the plan in further detail after dinner?"
"If I don't fall into a food coma, sure," Mariku shrugged. "Sounds good to me."
"Let's hope the drawing room ceiling hasn't sprung another leak..."
The blonde turned toward a nearby window wistfully, an unreadable expression on his face. He hated this place. He hated the weather, he hated the people, and he especially hated the severe lack of any excitement, aside from the occasional insane protestor (like the one today). It was during exceptionally gloomy times like these that he yearned for the sun soaked sands of the Land of Green.
"Hey…do you think a falcon would be able to fly through this storm?"
"A what?"
"A falcon. You know, those big birds. With...claws. And stuff."
Seto looked out the large window, watching the grey-blue clouds rolling sluggishly through the dark sky, pellet-like drops pounding on the stone exterior. It had been raining on the island for as long as he could remember; even as a child, the memories of wet clothes and ornate parasols outnumbered those of carefree sunshine. There was an old legend, a wives' tale really, about how the Blue Kingdom's eternal tears would not stop until the White flame was extinguished.
"Perhaps," he said finally, walking towards his chambers, "it'd have to be a pretty gutsy bird…but it's not impossible."
Mariku nodded absentmindedly, face briefly illuminated as another flash of lightning lit the grey castle.
-
Hm. It feels like someone's missing...
Can you remind me when you review?