A/N: Omigosh the length. This is the longest Oneshot I have EVER written. The pairing is (Akefia x Kisara x Seto) which is both Outcastshipping and Blueshipping together. There's no name for the triangle though. Maybe...Choiceshipping? Based on this fic, it fits! :)
Some things you have to know before reading...
1) This is sort of an experiment because it's a romance (a genre I'm novice at) and it's a tragedy (a genre I've never written). I posted it for a single reason and that reason is that I spent 14 hours on it, and revised it more than 50 times. That is too much work to be wasted.
2) This is AU. So Akefia is not the soulless Zorc-controlled creature of darkness we all know and love. He's merely a really good thief. (Un)fortunately this means he is subject to human emtions such as falling in love. Thus his character is slightly different at some points.
3) I can't write Seto to save my life, so if his character is off I apologize.
There you go. That's my massive disclaimer on this. Don't like, don't read. All the same, if you read it I would appreciate some form of response for my hard work, so please leave a review!
Sometimes it's hard to be a woman giving all your love to just one man.
~Tammy Wynette
It was dark and it was late. Egypt's sands had long since gone cold and succumbed to the coolness of night, reluctantly giving up their heat to the open air. The stars glittered as brightly as silver and diamonds above in the inky black canvas of sky. The moon was bright and full, washing the entire desert, spread out on every side, with a milky white pallor. The Nile shown like a brilliant silver ribbon, winding its way forward, forging on, and leaving all else behind.
A girl, no older than nineteen, stood on a high ridge overlooking the Nile. Her waist-length hair hung over her shoulder in an elaborately twisted braid. She wore a slim white dress with a golden trim patterning the bottom. The dress left her shoulders and arms bare, and it cut off at her knees. Discarded beside her lay a soft fur cloak and a pair of delicately woven sandals; articles of wealth. She found that she couldn't bring herself to wear them out here in the desert where wealth mattered little and a food and water were greater treasures than hordes of gold. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened to the sound of the Nile's waters below, and the crickets, the scuffling of rodents in the sparse vegetation. Sounds you couldn't hear when you were back in the city.
If she turned around and faced the East she knew she would just barely be able to make out the fires of Pharaoh's Palace, gleaming like beacons to lead those in darkness to the light. Only tonight it was she who had fled those flaming lights, and escaped to the quiet and solitude of the desert, to keep the company of the Nile and the stars.
How long did she have? She wondered, gently brushing a few stray light blue-white strands of hair out of her face. Could she stay an hour, or two? Could she stay out here for a night? A full day, perhaps… How long would it be until she was missed? Not long, she mused. Sooner or later, the guards would be sent out to find her, to bring her home safely. Sometimes she missed it out here, though.
Of course she loved the palace, and she loved all the people there, and it was so unlike anything she'd ever experienced when she was younger, living as a peasant in a village with just five hundred impoverished citizens. But she missed the openness, and the freedom of being outside city walls. And of course there was—
Suddenly she heard a crack behind her, like a foot stepping on a dry branch. She turned around, her eyes searching the moonlit darkness behind her. "Hello?" She called, noticing how small and defenseless her voice sounded. Another sound drew her attention farther to the right, the brush of fabric against the desert scrub. It sounded closer. "Who's there?" She asked, "Please show yourself…" She paused and listened, straining her ears for any sound. Everything was silent again, though. The skittering of desert mice and other creatures resumed. Once again she could hear the Nile flowing calmingly below.
She sighed. It must've been her imagination, of course. She turned back around and gasped in shock as she was met with a hard face, scarred, and sharp piercing violet eyes. The man stood far taller than she, and was looking down at her degradingly. His hand reached out menacingly, and she had to hold back a scream of surprise. The hand paused in front of her face…and then flicked her nose playfully. His eyes glimmered in amusement.
Putting a hand over her heart, as though to make sure it was still beating, the girl gasped. "Beloved Isis." she said breathlessly then her eyes flashed up at the man's face again, where an amused smirk was in place. "Akefia, that wasn't funny." She said defensively.
The smirk grew into a full grin. "I have to disagree. It was hilarious. The deity of protection finds herself shaking in the presence of a petty thief."
"You know I hate it when you do that. What if it had been a bandit, or an Assyrian soldier?" She snapped, but her voice was softer now, and she couldn't help the small smile that always found its way onto her face when she was in the company of Egypt's greatest Thief King.
She'd wondered if he would come and meet her as she'd requested in the messages she sent him. He always had before, but she never knew for sure until she actually came out to see him. He rarely sent a reply to her frequent notes, though that was hardly surprising. Her communication with him had to be kept utterly secret, or there would be terrible consequences for both her and the thief.
It left her wondering though, every time she sent a message, if he received it, if he appreciated it, if he would meet her requests to see him time and again. And yet her falcon always came back with the papyrus scroll removed from her leg, and always it was replaced by a small desert rose and a valuable trinket of some sort or another.
She couldn't help her doubt though. It always gnawed at the back of her mind. Would he come? After all, how many other women must he have falling over him? He was a rebel, handsome and charming, with a dangerous allure that she wasn't sure any girl could resist. An allure she certainly couldn't resist, anyways. But surely she wasn't the only female company he kept…not when he could have anyone, and especially not with her particular circumstances.
Surely the flattery and soft spoken promises, purred against her skin under the cover of darkness, were not reserved for her alone.
She blushed, but ignored the jealousy that wormed its way through her thoughts, and turned around so she wouldn't have to look at the white-haired thief and give him the satisfaction of knowing she was pleased he'd come, as she always was. Although, she thought to herself, he already knows. The thief had a knack for guessing her thoughts, and seeing through her words, past her expressions, to the hidden secrets in her soul. They'd met often enough that it seemed like he knew her as well as she did.
Akefia sighed and rolled his eyes at her immature behavior. "Do you want an apology?" He asked humorously.
"I would if I expected you'd give it." She said with her back still turned to him. Her eyes fell to the palace, far off in the distance and automatically her hand slid to her neck where a sapphire and turquoise pendant hung on a golden chain. A new emotion entered her heart, warring against the pleasure she felt with Akefia. Guilt. The necklace had been given to her, a gift from…
"Your faith in my ability to show some heartfelt kindness is underwhelming, Kisara." He said in mock offense.
She looked over her shoulder at him, unable to help smiling, "Possibly because that is an ability you don't even possess."
"Hm, I thought you of all people might realize that I'm not made of stone." Akefia said, his voice nonchalant, as though he couldn't care less what Kisara actually thought. She frowned, but it wasn't as though she wasn't used to it. That was how the thief was. He had a way of twisting people's emotions around, confusing them. He always managed to confound her with his harsh attitude, because it was so unlike him. The real him. The one that she loved.
"I don't know what you mean, Akefia." Kisara said, brushing her hands over her braid rhythmically.
"I think you do.", Said the tomb-robber playfully after a pause, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and standing close behind her, his body pressed to hers. She could feel his breath on her neck. A shiver tingled down her spine at the contact. "You're cold?" Akefia asked, although his voice clearly said that he knew it wasn't the cold that had caused her to shiver so suddenly.
"No, I'm not." She said, turning around partially to look up at him. "I have a cloak."
His eyes flickered to the abandoned fur cloak to the side of them, and then back to her face. There was an amused edge to his eyes. He slid off his own crimson robe and put it over her shoulders. "Perhaps mine will offer more warmth, since yours is obviously inadequate." He said. His hands lingered on her shoulders, strong fingers tracing over her collarbone, calluses making the skin rough, but somehow comforting. She smiled, blushing as her eyes involuntarily traveled over his torso, left completely bare to the cool evening air.
She couldn't come up with a response to his statement, so she simply remained silent. It seemed that everything he said was witty and left her without a way to respond. His confidence in himself was intimidating, but she ignored it. She just couldn't figure out why she always found herself so speechless.
"Now are you going to stand there staring at that pathetic rat-hole excuse for a city all night, or will you join me in appreciating the river?" came Akefia's callous voice, interrupting Kisara's thoughts. She looked up at him and he tilted his head towards the cliff. His hands sliding from her shoulders, he went and sat, legs dangling over the edge of the ridge, leaning back on his arms. He held out a hand to her, indicating for her to come and sit beside him.
She glanced at the palace, and her hand brushed her necklace again, then she went and sat beside the white-haired thief. He casually wrapped an arm around her waist, sending her heart pounding and electric sparks tingling wherever he touched.
"Speaking of the city, are you finally falling apart under the pressure of your deified position of power?" He smirked, gazing at her, eyes sparkling. "You always sound so distressed in your messages."
Kisara supposed she could be angry at his making such disrespectful fun at her, but what good would it do? He'd just turn it around and brush it away. And, she couldn't help but agree that being exalted in the rank of deities, in the same class as Pharaoh himself, because of something she couldn't control was ridiculous at best. She just shrugged though. "I stand in Pharaoh's court beside the priests. It's my only duty."
"Ah yes, Pharaoh and his priests." He said, his voice taking on an aggressive tone. He despised Pharaoh, which was treason alone, but Kisara couldn't bring herself to judge him for it because of the reasons behind it. When he had been young, only eight, Pharaoh's father had ordered his city to be wiped out because it was a city of thieves. No retribution had ever been satisfied, and so now Akefia, the sole survivor of the massacre, blamed the current Pharaoh, Atem.
And as for his dislike for the priests, well that was another matter entirely. "Why do you put up with their preaching?" He said coldly. His arm tightened around her waist slightly. "With your power you could overthrow them."
He raised an eyebrow at the frown that settled on her face, and then said, "Or just leave. Why not? You don't like living there."
"I do like living there. The palace is beautiful. I couldn't ask for a lovelier home." Kisara argued gently.
"Kisara, you lie terribly. I can see right through you." Akefia said smartly. "Stay out here with me." He suggested, as he had multiple times before. "I could take care of you as well as palace slaves, and bring you more riches than Pharaoh could ever offer, if that's what you want… You know it's true." He said as she gave him a sympathetic but skeptical smile.
She could stay with him, Kisara knew, and she would be happy with him. She could imagine it, staying out here, sitting beside the Nile every night with a feared thief who rarely showed what she was fortunate enough to see at their every meeting. That was caring. It was rough, and hard to see, but it was there, and she was probably one of the few who knew that the Thief King wasn't just a ruthless, soulless monster. But then there was the matter of Pharaoh's guards and…
"Akefia, you know that I couldn't." She said, turning her head away from him. She brushed a hand over her braid again, pulling at the loose hairs and twisting them around her fingers. She was very away of Akefia's arm, wrapped tightly around her waist, his hand intertwined with hers, of his face so close, eyes watching her.
A sort of growl emanated from his throat and he snapped coldly, "This sense of loyalty you feel to that idiotic priest is ridiculous. He doesn't love you, he loves your power."
Kisara shook her head. "Please don't bring him into this. I don't want to talk about him now."
"You have to acknowledge that your husband is a part of this. If you can't handle it you should go back to the palace." He said suddenly, pulling his arm from around her, his voice razor-edged.
Kisara's heart pounded in irrational fear at the thought of her leaving him, of being gone forever, of never seeing him again. She whipped her head around to meet his eyes. "No." She said in a rush and then repeated more slowly. "No, I can handle it."
Suddenly, taking advantage of her surprise, he leaned in, kissing her forcefully. She gasped. Akefia's kisses were entirely unlike the chaste kisses she received from her husband. His kisses were strong, passionate, persuasive, and yet somehow gentle. And respectful. Tonight, as he always did, he was holding back, respecting her boundaries; Kisara could feel it. But right now, that isn't what she wanted. Her heart beat a rhythm, fast and hard. At that moment she realized how much she had missed him, how she craved his touch, and her body responded to his. She leaned into him, winding her fingers into his hair, letting him fill her senses.
He finally, reluctantly, pulled back, and they both sat there, breathless, foreheads touching. And although his hands rested, warm and strong, over hers, when he spoke it was as though from a thousand miles away. His voice was distant, and ice cold. "You'll have to choose one way or another, Kisara." He breathed, "I won't wait for you forever."
"How can you ask that of me?" She whispered after a pause, her voice wavering. She bowed her head. "I love Seto. I do! I love him with all my heart. But…then there's you. And I...I can't imagine never seeing you again. I feel like it's tearing me apart." Her voice broke.
He'd rolled his eyes and turned away, his eyes searching the river below, and he said, "Because you let it. You concern yourself over pointless emotions." His voice was flat and he seemed cold to her. She wasn't unused to it. Whenever a touchy topic cropped up in their conversations he became reserved and harsh like this. She felt cut off from him when he pulled away like he had now. And she hated it. She wanted to pull him to her, to beg him not to. Don't shut me out, she wanted to say.
Instead she placed a hand on his bare chest, over his heart. She could feel its rapid beating in his chest. "Is this a pointless emotion?" She asked.
His eyes flicked to her face again, and for once she could see emotions warring in his eyes. He growled. "Don't be a fool," he hissed, and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter though, in the end." He looked at her, and there was something in his gaze that she couldn't identify, "You must choose because someday you're going to get caught. It will end with your death."
"We wouldn't—" She began but he interrupted her with a glare that silenced her argument.
"You will." He said simply. "Someday you're going to be exposed, whether by a chance witness, a spy who follows you out of the city, or by your beloved priest, may Ammit devour his soul. Then you will be cast in the street, and they will stone you to your death."
"I don't care about the consequences, Akefia I can't leave him." Kisara said, leaning her forehead on one hand.
"Then go to him, Kisara. I'm a thief, not a kidnapper. I won't hold you back." Akefia snarled, standing up.
Kisara stood up as well, praying silently that he would be patient with her. "But I can't leave you either!" She said, sounding to herself like an immature, indecisive child.
"Then your only option is to die!" Akefia growled with his back still turned to her. She flinched as though he had slapped her. He spun around, glaring at her, "Imagine how your deceit will hurt your poor Seto." He spat the name, and she cringed. He took a deep breath, and for a moment she saw in his face the same pain that she was feeling. And then he turned away from her, looking towards the city.
She walked over to him, standing behind him, cautiously placing a hand on his back. "My deceit will hurt Seto no matter what I do... But if death is what awaits me on this path, then perhaps death is my only option. I will accept that then. The better the more time I can spend with both of you." Kisara said softly, touching his arm and walking around him so that she could look up at his face.
Akefia chuckled, finally looking down at her, and brushed his hand over her face, caressing her with a touch so gentle it almost broke her heart. "You selfish, selfish girl." He said. "Did you care to wonder what your death would do to the people who love you? That would be committing them to a lifetime of lonely solitude, torture… How could the deity of protection cause such pain guiltlessly?"
"I suppose my death would be painful in more ways than one. The pain of those I hurt would be with me as well." Kisara said, her voice resigned.
There was a long pause, finally Akefia said, "If you would be reasonable you wouldn't have to be put to death."
"Please…" Kisara began.
"Ra, Kisara!" Akefia practically shouted, causing her to flinch. "You're lying to yourself. You don't love him, no matter what you say. You're just afraid of letting him go, of leaving it all behind." Without warning he swept her up into his arms and carried her a hundred feet to where her black horse was standing patiently. As though she weighed nothing, he set her up on her horse, walked back to the river's edge, and returned with her cloak and sandals.
She began to shrug off his crimson robe as well, but he put up a hand and said, "Keep it. Tell your dear husband it was a gift from a kind man paying homage to his Goddess, Kisara, Protector of Egypt. Listen carefully to me now." He stared at her, trapping her in his sharp violet gaze. "I will come to the palace tomorrow evening. If you wish to live out your life with me then hang this," He grabbed a fistful of the red robe. "Over your bedchamber balcony and I will come for you. If not then I will raid the palace treasury and leave the grounds, and you will never see or hear from me again. Do you understand, Kisara?"
"Yes." She said, her eyes wet with unshed tears.
"Then go, before they miss you and you find yourself in trouble." He smirked at her, and she nodded. She lifted her hands to flick the reins but Akefia caught her wrist. She looked down at him. He drew her down, lifted a hand to her face, and wiped away the tears on her eyelashes. Slowly, he leaned up and pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his lips on hers. Too soon it was over. He released her, and said with uncharacteristic softness, "Whatever you choose, Kisara... choose for yourself. Not for me. Not for him. For you. I will love you...no matter who holds your heart." She bit her lip, choking back her tears. It was the first time he had ever said he loved her, and she longed to be in his arms. Unable to look at him any longer, she fiercely pressed her heals into the side of her mount and it leaped forward with a whinny, sprinting into the night and leaving Akefia far behind. She turned her head over her shoulder again and again until the small figure standing on the ridge disappeared. Then she turned her gaze towards the horizon where a dusty rose shade was just beginning to color the sky indicating that Ra was being reborn again, coming into the world to light it as he did every day. She kicked her horse to go faster, knowing that if she was missed it would raise suspicion. Not that it mattered much anymore, since she had a single day to decide the rest of her life.
The ride back to the palace was lengthy (it had to be to ensure that she and Akefia weren't seen); it took her nearly two hours at a fast lope to get there. She rode unhindered into the palace courtyard, ignoring the looks of curiosity she received from palace guards and servants alike at the strange red robe she had draped over her thin frame. As she came to the stables she climbed off, receiving help from stable hands who never met her gaze, who looked at the ground as she passed, reverently speaking as though to a god and not a human being.
She shook her head, thinking to herself again how foolish it was that she was glorified so much only because her Ka was stronger than was normal, and the manifestation beautiful. When in danger, or forced to a fierce anger, or perhaps if provoked, a beast in the form of a massive white dragon rose out of her soul and would wreak destruction on whatever force deserved it. She refused to let them trap her soul creature within stone as had Seto and the other Priests. As it was, though, she had no control over it.
She entered the palace by way of the grand front entrance, choosing to make herself known sooner rather than later. She didn't want to provoke suspicion by acting as though she had something to hide.
Pharaoh was sitting on his throne, looking regal as he ever did. On either side of his throne were the Priests, formally called his Sacred Guardians. Before them was a young girl, and beside her, also on his knees, was a guard of Pharaoh's palace. The girl appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old, and the guard was young as well. Kisara gazed at them in surprise, curious of their crimes.
Looking to the Priests she realized that whatever it was, they were about to begin a Millennium Judgment, a draining and painful ordeal at best using a dark magic only accessible by Pharaoh and his Sacred Guardians. Kisara intervened, rushing forward and saying boldly, "What are their crimes?"
"Kisara." She turned to look at Seto, who had said her name, and was now gazing at her with disapproval, eyeing Akefia's crimson robe with something akin to repulsion. "If you had been here as you were supposed to be you would have heard the actions which brought them before Pharaoh today."
Turning away from him she went and bowed her head before Pharaoh. "Please, My Pharaoh, I wish to know the crimes of which they are accused."
Pharaoh nodded, and Siamun Muran, his stout vizier standing beside him, said, "The crimes of which the peasant girl, Amneris, and Palace Captain of the Guard, Mariku, are accused are theft from Pharaoh's treasury, and conspiring against Pharaoh."
Kisara looked at the two kneeling, heads bowed. She noticed that they were gripping each other's hands as though holding to a lifeline. She turned back to the Priests. "Have you heard their side of the story, or would you judge them unjustly, my Pharaoh?"
"Kisara, hold your tongue." Ordered Akhnadin, the oldest of Pharaoh's Priests.
"No, Kisara is right." Said Pharaoh suddenly. "We cannot continue this trial until all sides of the story have been told." He nodded to her, his magenta eyes warm with approval. She bowed to him again, and then went to confront the accused prisoners.
"Do you claim yourself to be innocent of the crimes of which you have been accused?" Kisara asked gently.
The girl was shaking and could barely get the words past the broken sobs that were racking her body. "N-no, no. T-the accusations a-are cor-rect."
"There, she has admitted her crimes. A Millennium Trial is in order." Akhnadin said fiercely. Kisara ignored him.
"What reason did you have to commit this crime against the crown, Amneris?" Kisara asked, laying a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.
"M-my family. They're starving, a-and sick. M-mariku w-was my childhood f-friend and he a-agreed to help me get into the P-palace treasury s-so that I could p-pay for food to keep my family alive. T-that's all." She choked out.
"Pharaoh, what punishment befalls a young girl who fights for her starving family?" Kisara asked, standing and facing all the priests.
Pharaoh smiled slightly. "You seem to have this trial under control, Kisara. You shall decide their fate. Do what you find to be just."
"But, My King!" Came the startled replies from the Priests.
Kisara nodded. "You there, please bring the girl a ten pound sack of silver and gold coins from my own fund. Payment to keep this girl's family alive, and hopefully to share with the other good people around her so that others will not be driven to thievery as well. As for Mariku, he shall be released from service, but that shall be his only punishment."
The Priests murmured at the so-called 'punishment' which seemed to them to be more of a reward, but Kisara simply exited the throne room, holding the red cloak around her and thinking of a different thief, out waiting for nightfall to steal into the Palace grounds for one reason or another.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that when something grasped her hand she jumped and nearly shouted in surprise.
"It's only me." Seto said, looking at her curiously. His eyes fell to the robe draped over her. "By Pharaoh, what is this waste of fabric?" He said, brushing it, eyes examining the worn hem, the small rips and tears, the dust and stains that indicated a long life of use.
"A gift. From a man outside the city where I was stargazing last night. He wanted to show his gratitude to the Goddess of Protection, and honored me with his robe." Kisara explained hurriedly, turning her eyes downward.
"Well, that's very thoughtful. I'll have it sent to the seamstresses. They can shred it and reuse any of the salvageable cloth in something worth looking at." He said, beginning to remove it from her shoulders.
"No!" She gripped it. "It…would be cruel to throw away a gift of such honor. He gave me the clothes off his back, leaving himself bare to the night winds. I should not discard such a humble gift."
"…As you wish then." He said, looking at her. "Have it washed at least." He paused, his hands hovering awkwardly over her shoulders. Finally he let them fall to his sides. He smiled slightly, "I did miss you last night, Kisara. How was gazing up at the lonely stars? Sometimes I fear your love for them is greater then your love for me." His eyes softened slightly
"Oh, of course not." She said, straining to make her voice light-hearted. "I missed you as well."
Seto looked at her, and suddenly seemed worried. "Are you fairing alright, Kisara? You seem quiet."
"I'm simply tired. Truthfully, there's no need for concern." She said, leaning up and kissing him quickly on the cheek. She turned to go to their bedchamber, but he grasped her hand.
"Go for a walk with me? It's been a long time since we have spent any time alone." He said.
She paused, surprised. Rarely did her husband ever offer to take time from his day, even for her. "Yes…yes, of course." She said, nodding. She wound her arm through his and they went out to the palace gardens, a place of quiet and peace where Kisara often came when she needed to think.
"What is it you love so much about the stars? I find myself spending the evenings alone more often than not in recent weeks." Seto asked conversationally.
Kisara bowed her head slightly so he wouldn't see her blush. "I don't know, truthfully. They're like finding diamonds in the darkness of coal, or splashes of water on a piece of black silk. They're mysterious and beautiful…" She trailed off.
Seto smiled slightly, "I could say the same thing about you."
They walked in silence, neither of them knowing quite what to say. Finally Seto said, "I feel as though you're drifting away from me, Kisara. I can't explain it, but it seems as though we're growing apart."
"Don't be silly." Kisara said with a small smile. She gripped his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
"Of course, it's probably my imagination." Seto agreed, brushing her cheek with his other hand. "Even still, I've been thinking…"
"What about?" Kisara said distractedly, wondering what Akefia was doing right then. Is he thinking about me as well, she wondered.
"…speak to Pharaoh…family responsibility…work less…"
Kisara shook herself out of her thoughts, coming back to their conversation. "What did you say?" She asked, not sure if she'd heard correctly.
"I said that I'm going to speak to Pharaoh and tell him that, despite my duty to his court, I have a responsibility to you, my wife. I will tell him that I must work less, spend more time with you." Seto explained again. "I'm not ready to let royal duty keep us strangers to each other."
"Oh, Seto, you can't do that for me. Your duty to Pharaoh is more than just responsibility. You're his friend. Pharaoh needs you." Kisara said, stopping beside a small pond.
"Kisara, Pharaoh is indeed my friend, and I have long protected and supported him. But you are my wife, and it seems that I leave you alone far too often. That, I'm sure, is another reason you go spend the night with the stars. I won't let us grow apart so easily."
Kisara looked at him. This couldn't be happening to her. She had a choice to make between two men from different worlds. Perhaps Seto's tendency to love his work more than her could have been a key in making that decision, but now…now…if she left Seto she was leaving a man that was willing to give up everything he knew for her. A man that would tell his best friend and King that he could no longer be in his service for the fear of losing his wife. A man that had noticed her frequent outings, and missed her—not knowing what blasphemy she was committing by going out at all; not knowing that she was meeting with another man, and that she didn't really care for the stars as much as she claimed. This was a man who trusted her explicitly…and she was deliberately betraying that trust over and over and over, every moment, every breath, another lie.
And yet, she thought in distress, I am only now realizing how horribly selfish I am.
"…Please, I must go to our bedchamber now and rest. I rode far last night to see the stars, and I'm afraid I didn't get any sleep." She said softly, beginning to pull away.
Seto nodded, leaned down and kissed her softly, gently, and it felt so foreign. She closed her eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Seto. I truly do."
He smiled down at her and said lightheartedly, "I know you do, but do you know that I love you?"
"...Yes" She said finally, stepping past him to go back into the palace. She gripped the red robe around her tightly, wringing the fabric in her hands. She avoided people on the way to her and Seto's bedroom, not wanting to explain her obvious stress to them, and all the time she ran her hands over the crimson fabric as though the answers would rub off with the dust and dirt of age.
Finally she entered the large spacious room. She pulled the wispy silk curtain and the thicker reed curtain both over the entry so that she could think in peace. Her room lay displayed before her, and so she took time in looking at it, after all it might be the last day she would spend in it. A large bed was in the center against the far wall. It was concealed by a thin pink silk curtain that could be withdrawn at ease. Stone pedestals held golden busts and gemmed statues. Trinkets sat around the room, each in a specific place as though to make clutter appear organized. One wall was completely open to the outside, leading to the balcony.
On the wall were carvings, brilliantly painted, beautiful, telling stories of Seto, of his greatness, of his inner power and confidence, of enemies he'd defeated, of challenges he'd conquered. Of his humble upbringing. And then there were the carvings of her. Or, more accurately, of a large white beast that was destroying the enemies of Pharaoh, and below the dragon was a girl with white hair. That was her. She wasn't glorified and held in honor for herself. She was just Kisara: the girl with white hair and blue eyes who'd been raised in poverty.
She thought of Akefia's words the night before, "He doesn't love you. He loves your power." Could that be true? Of course it couldn't…but wouldn't it be so much easier if it was.
"Oh, Akefia." She whispered, pulling the robe from her shoulders and holding it tightly in her arms. "You've forced me into making this choice, and I'm afraid of making the wrong one. What you ask me to choose between is like choosing between day and night, between light and darkness. It's like choosing sight over sound; life will become less worth living without either. Would I live in darkness, or silence?" She sat down on the bed, and released the band holding her hair in its delicate braid so that is fell over her face.
She could almost imagine Akefia responding cynically, "Your appreciation for one would grow with the loss of the other." Kisara clutched the robe tighter to her, and, unable to sit still, began pacing from the balcony to the opposite wall. She paused at the balcony, laying the robe over it like placing a wet sheet of cloth out to dry. If she left it there, Akefia would come for her and she would leave the palace, but this time she wouldn't come back.
She pulled it back from the alabaster rail and hugged it close. If she took it back then Akefia would simply raid the palace. She would hear about it from her room, and know that down below her somewhere he was stealing gold and items worth thousands of gold and silver deben (1).
But he wouldn't come for her.
She wouldn't see him.
Or hear his voice.
Or feel his arms around her.
Ever again.
And she'd live out the rest of her life within the palace with Seto. She could be happy that way, she told herself. But could she really? She feared she wouldn't know the answer until she made the wrong decision and it was too late.
She placed the robe back on the balcony, smoothing out the wrinkles…and this time she left it there. It would be a long time until Akefia came to the palace. Not until nightfall, when the candles and fires of the palace were burning brightly. Kisara lay back on her bed, watching the wispy bits of cloud pass in the sky out her balcony. And she waited for time to pass. And waited, and waited, and waited…
She must have fallen asleep because when she woke it was dark outside. It wasn't truly dark though. It was a darkness lit by flame. Fires leaped from windows, providing light to the people in the courtyard. A beacon to those in darkness, Kisara thought again. She pulled herself out of her bed and trotted over to the balcony.
A fear had settled in her heart, and a tense excitement. He was coming. She knew he was coming. The robe was on the balcony. She would see him again. She ignored the pulling in her heart telling her that the time for her to leave Seto was close. Far too close. She had decided that she wouldn't say goodbye though. It would be far too difficult for her to leave if she had to suffer seeing his pain.
Suddenly there were shouts from the courtyard. A scream. A fire erupted in the courtyard as someone knocked over a barrel of oil for the many fires being tended in that area alone.
He's here, Kisara thought, pacing back and forth, and begged silently, please come before I change my mind.
There was the pattering of footsteps outside her room. She flipped around to see the reed curtain flung to the side as Seto rushed into the room.
"Seto!" She gasped. What was he doing here? "Um, what's going on in the courtyard."
"The 'King of Thieves', or so he calls himself. He's no more than a petty thief who takes advantage of the weak. He says his name is Bakura. He's broken in to the palace. We assumed he would go to the treasury, but he didn't even look in that direction. There is fear that he is out for blood, Kisara, to assassinate Pharaoh." He explained quickly, his face fearsome.
"Then you should be with Pharaoh!" Kisara said, knowing that Akefia was in no way out for Pharaoh's life. "You should be protecting him!"
"I had to find you first. He is dangerous; I could not leave you alone. You will come with me and we will barricade ourselves in Pharaoh's court where we shall all be most protected."
"Seto, this is all sort of overreacting isn't it? Just go protect Pharaoh and I shall be fine. He's only a petty thief after all." Kisara said, glancing again and again at the balcony.
"Absolutely not, Kisara, you are my first priority." Seto argued stubbornly, grabbing her hand.
There was a sudden thump from behind them and they both whipped around. Standing on the balcony was Akefia. He wore a black robe that replaced the red one he'd given to Kisara. He had a smirk on his face that Kisara knew so well; half-way between amusement and threat. He stroked the crimson robe hanging over the balcony.
"You summoned me, as I had hoped." He said, his lips curving up in a gentle crooked smile. His eyes were locked on Kisara. She looked at him in fear, her eyes flitting between him and her husband, but she nodded as well.
Seto's voice interrupted the intruder. "No one summoned you. You are unwelcome here, thief. Leave before you find yourself dead." Seto ordered, stepping in front of Kisara protectively.
Akefia's eyes flashed dangerously away from Kisara to the man in front of her. He cocked his head to the side contemplatively. "Ah, Priest Seto. I've heard so much about you." He walked forward slowly. "Not much of it flattering, I might add."
Seto glared at him, and without warning pulled out his golden scepter, hanging from the looped cloth at his waist, which separated into two halves, one of them a long dagger with a wickedly sharp point. It gleamed under the light of the fires. Akefia barely glanced at it, still smiling. "I'm not here to harm anyone, so there's no need for threats." He said. "I have come only to take what rightfully belongs to me."
"You are mistaken then, thief. Nothing here can be claimed as yours." Seto said, looking down on him.
"Nothing? I think your dear goddess would disagree…Kisara?" He said, holding out a hand to her invitingly. She looked at him longingly, but didn't move.
"What of Kisara's can be claimed as yours? …Kisara what is this criminal talking about?" Seto asked, not allowing the thief to answer. He held his free hand out in front of her as though in an attempt to further shield her from Akefia.
"I tire of you Seto. What of dear Kisara's can I claim?" Interrupted the thief who smiled wickedly, pausing. The air was thick with tension. Finally he snarled, "Her heart, you blind fool. What else?"
Seto looked between them in confusion. Kisara averted her eyes to the ground.
"You lie." Seto finally said, stepping forward, dagger held out dangerously towards Akefia.
Akefia laughed, his strong voice echoing around the spacious room, disregarding the knife as though it were a stick. "I lie? You accuse me falsely… Did you really think that your beloved Kisara had been 'stargazing' all those nights? When she was quiet and resigned, do you think it was you in her thoughts? Of course not… But you probably never even noticed, did you? I gave her the attention she was starving for here at this Ra-forsaken palace. How could she do anything but fall in love with me?"
"What do you mean?" Seto asked coldly, disbelieving.
"By Ra, you idiot, must it be written in stone? She summoned me here because I treat her as she deserves to be treated. Now we will take our leave." Akefia said plainly, rolling his eyes.
"Kisara, he lies. Tell me that he is lying." Seto said, his voice unsure, his face doubtful. Kisara's heart twisted in pain, as though breaking into two bleeding pieces. She looked at him, wanting to tell him that it was all a lie, that not a word of it was true. But that would be a lie in and of itself.
"I met him months ago." She began after a heavy pause, as though admitting herself guilty to a crime. "I was stargazing, truly, on a night when you had stayed working with Pharaoh on a temple project of some sort. Akefia saw me—he was using a cavern only a hundred feet away to sleep in—he was curious so he came over and…" She shook her head, holding her hands before her face as though in prayer, afraid to look at her husband. "I'm sorry, Seto. I'm so sorry."
His voice was cold, cutting, creating lacerations across her already broken heart. "And you continued to see him. You deceived me, knowingly, for all these months." he said softly, lowering his hands and backing away from her as though she were some sort of venomous snake, liable to strike him again any moment.
"I was alone, Seto! You had left me alone and I wanted someone to talk to. I just wanted someone who didn't treat me like I was a god, someone who would treat me like me, and not like the Blue-Eyes White Dragon, protector of Egypt." She explained desperately, hardly able to bear his cold featureless face, looking at her with resolve that was hardening into an icy encasing of hostility every second that passed. She continued, "I can't help that I found that in—"
"In Bakura, the Thief King of Egypt? No Kisara…I cannot disregard that. He is a criminal." His eyes flashed coldly as they fell to her face again. "I hold you responsible for your mistakes, not this thief."
Akefia reached out and grabbed Kisara by the hand, pulling her close, his eyes burning with jealous loathing for the rigid priest. She his her face against his shoulder, unable to help the tears that were spilling over her cheeks. She hadn't guessed that leaving would hurt so much. I'm such a fool, she thought. I should have never allowed this to happen.
Seto looked between them, his eyes finally coming to rest on Kisara. The mask of stiff emotionless superiority fell for only a moment, and she saw his hurt there, the raw betrayal. His voice was carefully controlled as he said, "Go then, Kisara. But know that by choosing this path you have chosen the life of a criminal yourself."
"And what life would she have had here, you self-righteous imbecile?" Akefia snarled viciously, causing Kisara to cringe. "The life of a goddess, shunned in her own way, set apart from humanity? That is your life, and you were too blind to see that it was not the life Kisara would've ever chosen for herself."
"Go!" Seto ordered loudly. "Get out before I call the guards and have them take you to the prison."
"With pleasure." Akefia said, bowing low, his hands spread to either side in mock servility. Without further hesitation he returned to the balcony. Kisara stood momentarily between them. And in the moment it was her last chance to choose between her old life, and a potential new one.
Choose one of either of the men she loved, and the other would be hurt. But what now, for if she suddenly chose to stay Seto would still never forgive her. His order for them to leave was his last act of kindness towards her, she knew.
His back was turned to her now. She took a step toward him, hand outstretched, and then changed her mind, pulling away and going to Akefia who stood waiting, his black robe fluttering slightly in a gentle desert breeze.
"I love you, Seto." She whispered, not knowing if he heard or not.
Without warning, Akefia wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and leapt off the balcony. She screamed in surprise, and then they were swinging, dangling, from a long rope slung and tied with a hook to the alabaster pillar standing on her balcony. She hadn't noticed the rope before. The ground was only just below them, but it was still a ways to drop.
There were no guards or people in the area because her room—just Seto's room now—was on the far side of the palace courtyard, tucked away in a corner. Of course most of the guards would be searching the palace itself, the treasury, guarding Pharaoh. And the leaping flames from the spilled oil caused enough of a diversion that no one would notice them regardless.
Akefia whistled. For a moment nothing happened and they simply dangled there, held up on the rope only by Akefia's strength. The tendons stood out on his arm, the muscles tightened against the force of gravity, but his face was, as usual, indifferent. If he felt fatigued, he did a good job of hiding it.
After a minute that seemed to last an hour a charcoal gray horse trotted around the corner. The thief whistled again and the horse came obediently, like a well-trained dog, and stood below them where they could drop onto it safely. It reared slightly at the sudden weight of two riders on its back. Kisara sat in front of Akefia, his arms on either side, grasping the reins tightly. At a command the horse bolted towards the gates.
The grand entrance to the Palace grounds, two huge wooden gates embedded with gold and silver, were still wide open. Kisara supposed that closing the gates would be unimportant when their Pharaoh's life was at risk.
Closer and closer, almost three quarters across the courtyard, then someone shouted. "He's riding for the gate! Close the gate!"
And another screamed, "He's kidnapped the White Dragon!"
"He's taken the Lady Kisara!"
"Stop him, shoot him, do something!"
More and more shouts and orders melted together in a chaotic wave of sound and movement. Only one thing registered: the gate was closing.
If the gate closed it would be nearly impossible for them to escape. Kisara would be returned to the palace, the victim of a thief, but Akefia would be put to death. They had to go faster.
As though reading her thoughts, Akefia said into her ear, "Hold on, love." On cue, the horse picked up speed until it seemed it was no longer running but flying. Her hair whipped around like it had life of its own. In mere seconds they were at the gate, only half-way closed, and then they were through and galloping full speed through the city, towards the outskirts.
The sound of pursuit was lost behind them. The only sound now was that of the horse's hooves beating against the rock and sand, of Akefia breathing in time with his mount, of the wind roaring past on either side. Above them the stars seemed to grow brighter and brighter, celestial flames guiding them into the dark. The Nile was just visible, a trickle of silver in the distance. The lights of the city grew dimmer and dimmer until they were fading behind like a forgotten memory...
Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.
~Arnold Bennett
A/N: Revisions are being made all the time because this story needs a bit of work. So come back in a couple weeks. You might find half the story changed! If people want an alternate ending where Kisara ditches Akefia (how could she!) and stays with Seto, I will strive to write it. Or perhaps an ending where no one ends up happy and Kisara ends up alone (widowed, or just chooses neither). I wrote it Outcastshipping because that is the pairing I favor.
1) Deben was a term used for a sort of Ancient Egyptian currency. They were used as a weight system that helped with fair trade.
I did the work, favor me with a response please! Leave a REVIEW