This is my entry for Unattainable Dream's contest, as part of the Prompt Exchange Challenge forum. It is a blindshipping oneshot, with a tiny bit of citronshipping, and it is roughly set in Ancient Egypt. However, I don't know how sword fighting works, I don't know how Ancient Egypt works, I don't know how to be a Thief King, and I don't know how magic works. It isn't an accurate story. Sorry. ^_^
Enjoy! - Jem
Prompt: uprise, usurp, sword[Originally sent by Caelyn-Forever]
Atem rose from his throne as his guards closed around him, the Palace suddenly caught in a frozen state of shock, surprise and fear. The peasant woman in the centre of the court shuddered at the sudden amount of attention she was receiving, her shoulders shaking as she wrung her hands in front of her body, her head down. After a long, long moment of shocked, heavy silence, Atem spoke directly to her. "You are sure of this?"
The peasant woman nodded, her eyes cast firmly downwards in the presence of her Pharaoh. "I saw him with my own eyes. The Thief King left no prisoners."
Silence reigned once again, constricting the air in the vast courtroom before everyone began speaking at once.
Amidst the kerfuffle, one head remained calm. Yugi, the small scribe and close friend to the Pharaoh, leaned over with a small whisper. "I thought we'd got rid of him!"
"Bakura is persistent," Was Atem's weary reply, his eyes sliding shut as his head dropped to the side. "I doubt he will ever truly be gone."
Yugi's wide purple eyes met his Pharaoh's, alight with determination. "Don't talk like that. We can beat him yet." Atem felt his lips turn upwards slightly at Yugi's persistence, and he turned back to the court with a new sharpness to his gaze.
"My Pharaoh, we must take steps to secure this Thief King." Seto's voice rang clearly through the stale air, his voice almost as commanding as the Pharaoh himself. "Rest assured that we shall defeat this evil, and rid the land of Egypt of his foul presence once and for all!"
"Don't think it will be that easy," A sardonic voice called from the shadows. "The Thief King has bested you before; I don't doubt it would be easy enough for him to do so again."
Atem sighed as the owner of the voice stepped into the torchlight; this particular courtier never failed to cause him problems. Yugi caught Atem's pained expression and chuckled, laying a comforting hand on his arm. "The trouble hasn't started yet, Atem."
"I know," the Pharaoh sighed tiredly. "But I also know that it very soon will."
Yugi released a small chuckle at that, resting further against the throne. Atem sent him a sidelong glance, trying not to show how much he enjoyed watching the scribe – his pale skin stood out in Egypt, but to Atem it merely lit up his features more than the usual Egyptian complexion would. Usually, the scribe's face was constantly lit by a smile, especially when he was with Atem, but right now he was looking towards the owner of the voice with a fierce expression marring his innocent features. Seto, too, was glaring into the shadows, Millennium Rod held aloft as he spoke. "And what would you have to say for the Thief King, Ishtar?"
Marik stepped forwards with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "I say nothing to support him, if that's what you're insinuating. I merely wish to point out that you have underestimated him before, and I don't think you should make the same mistake twice."
Seto hissed. "Do you question my judgement? I know how to deal with criminals, especially with the use of our Items!"
Marik stepped forwards, mouth opening to retort, but a Priestess quickly stepped between them. "This is not the time for petty squabbles! Marik, go back to our chambers; I will meet you there later. Seto, don't you think we have more important matters to concentrate on?"
Marik's brows furrowed with anger, but Atem was quick to step in before the argument could escalate. "Isis is right; we need a plan. Marik, do as your sister says – I will call if you are needed."
The glare of the young man was clearly felt in the room before Marik turned and flounced away, his tombkeeper robes flaring around his ankles as he exited through the side door.
Seto watched him go with a harsh stare before turning back to his Pharaoh. "This Thief King must be dealt with immediately. I can take a squadron of guards and pick him up in the desert before he strikes again; we'll have left before sundown."
"No."
The word, dropped from Isis' lips, brought the attention of all seven Item-holders to her. She met the eyes of Atem with a searching expression, her fingertips grazing the Millennium Necklace. "The Thief King will not be caught so easily – by brother was right when he warned us not to underestimate him."
Atem nodded, his expression darkening as he recalled previous attempts to capture the Thief King; he was a slippery man, ransacking villages and raiding tombs before always slithering out of the Pharaoh's grasp. The Pharaoh had never even seen him, but he knew he was dangerous and powerful. Word went around that he possessed a magic of his own, strong enough to rival the shadow powers of the Item-holders themselves. Atem sighed as he looked at the seven most trusted members of his council, knowing that they had a long, difficult night ahead of them. "We must prepare for his next attack. Isis, do you see anything with the Necklace?"
The Priestess frowned, her fingers hovering around the metal at her throat. A crease appeared in her brow, but she soon closed her eyes with a sigh. "The visions are unclear, my King – all I see are shadows and darkness. This will be a difficult night."
Atem nodded, turning to Mahad. "Are the Palace defences strong?"
"As strong as ever," The Magician replied. "But the Ring has been acting strangely again. It is as if something is calling to it, and I cannot get it back under my control."
"Has this happened often?" Seto interrupted, turning to Mahad with hard eyes. "Is the Ring a danger to us?"
Mahad opened his mouth to respond, his own brows furrowing, but Atem raised a placating hand. "Relax, Seto. Mahad has never failed us, and I would trust him with my life." With another sweeping glance to his Council, Atem gave quick, quiet orders. "So, we know it is likely that the Thief King will attack tonight. You must all go about your usual duties, we don't want to cause panic amongst the people, but take extra care. Mahad, alert the guards – we must be ready, if he plans to come to the Palace."
The council members nodded, heading for their respective posts and leaving Atem alone with only his scribe by his side. Yugi turned to Atem with a worried glance. "Do you really think he would attempt to attack the Palace directly?"
"I think that's his eventual aim, yes," Atem sighed, leaning back against his throne. "Whether it will come tonight..."
Yugi gauged his friend's exhaustion and offered him a hand and a smile. "Come on. You look like a good night's sleep would do you good."
Atem smiled wearily in response, grasping Yugi's fingers gently and allowing himself to be led out of the courtroom. "You are correct, as ever. I must stay alert tonight, though."
Yugi looked back at him with a worried shake of his head. "You won't do anyone any good if you're falling asleep at the throne tomorrow."
"If I still have a throne by then," Atem chuckled, but the sound died in his throat at Yugi's pained expression. "Don't worry, I'm only joking."
Yugi nodded, trying for a smile, although it lacked his usual brightness. "I hope so, Atem. Catch a few hours sleep; I'll wake you if anything comes up."
Atem nodded, obediently entering his chamber and gesturing Yugi to a chair. Yugi smiled, looking away as the Pharaoh undressed and entered his soft sheets, but he made sure to watch as Atem slipped into sleep. This was when Yugi loved watching him most – when the cares of the day lifted from his worn features, leaving the smooth, tanned skin to relax back into its youthful form. It was only in sleep that Atem's age truly showed through, Yugi thought. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that the Pharaoh was only a year or two older than the scribe himself. So much responsibility, on such young shoulders ... is it any wonder he worries so much?
A peaceful hour passed, and Yugi watched over his King with a smile playing about his lips. His family had always been close to the royals; Yugi's grandfather was a member of the council, and an Item-holder himself, so Yugi and Atem had known each other from a young age. Yugi could recall countless days spent out in the sunlight, playing on the banks of the Nile, and Atem had always watched over him carefully to make sure that his pale skin didn't burn. Yugi had not had an easy childhood – he was often bullied for his unusual appearance, but Atem would never make fun of him. A little gentle teasing, perhaps, but Yugi knew that Atem would never hurt him. Yugi didn't feel as safe around anyone else.
Things had changed, of course, when the Pharaoh passed and Atem had become ruler. They had been unable to spend much time together for a while, but Yugi had always been good with words and it seemed natural for him to become the Palace scribe; a job that he loved, as he was allowed to spend all day, every day, in Atem's presence, taking down his words with loving accuracy. At night, too, he would often sit with the Pharaoh, just as he was now. Atem often said that he slept much easier in the knowledge that Yugi was watching over him, and Yugi was all too glad to comply – sometimes, he had to admit that his feelings for the King ran far deeper than he had ever admitted.
A crash from the Palace corridors was all the warning Yugi got before a black gloved hand wrapped around his mouth, pulling him backwards and out of the safety and glow of the Pharaoh's presence.
...
Atem woke certain in the knowledge that something was wrong.
The first thing to strike him was the darkness. It pervaded his chamber, pressing hard against his eyelids and totally obscuring his vision. The torches were out, but that was wrong – the servants were always active, and the Palace was never completely enveloped in darkness.
That was Atem's first warning that something was very wrong.
Fumbling to dress himself in the dark, the young Pharaoh made his blind way out into the corridors, his precise knowledge of the Palace's layout the only thing saving him from bumping into the marble corners. With an increasing sense of dread coiling heavily in his gut, Atem realised that Yugi was nowhere to be found, and neither were any of the guards usually positioned in this corridor. Something was extremely wrong.
Atem didn't allow himself to dwell on the matter any further. The Millennium Puzzle around his neck bounced against his chest as he stumbled on down the passage, wending the familiar way to his throne room. As he neared it he could see shadows flaring from the bright lights of torches, and a deep, maniacal cackle that certainly belonged to no one he knew.
Something was dreadfully wrong.
Without wasting another second, Atem burst through the doorway to his own courtroom and froze in shock at the sight that met his eyes.
His throne was occupied. Not by anyone he knew, either; at least, no one he knew by sight, although Atem could take a pretty reliable guess at just who it was sat in the golden seat in his Palace. A short crop of wild white hair stuck out from darkly tanned skin, and a deep scar ran down one side of his face, his mouth stretched wide as that dark laugh continued pealing through the chamber, long after he had caught sight of the Pharaoh. Long red robes gathered around his otherwise bare body, a lone piece of cloth wrapped carelessly about his middle. His wrists and ankles were decorated in jewellery that looked fit to be in a Pharaoh's tomb, which, Atem realised, they probably had been, if this was indeed the Thief King. Finally, a searing purple gaze shot straight into Atem's own dark eyes, and around his neck lay something that made Atem's blood run cold.
The Millennium Ring.
With a surprised start, Atem quickly turned his attention to the other occupants of the courtroom. Several large, armed men surrounded the walls; thugs working for the Thief King, Atem could only assume. Herded into a corner and trapped behind a wall of armed bodies, Atem could clearly see the rest of his Item-holders; Seto looked absolutely irate, his body tightly coiled and his blue eyes hard and searing with hatred. Isis was by his side, broken and crumpled, the Necklace gone from around her neck. Straining his eyes in the shadowy light, Atem could not see Mahad; even more worryingly, Yugi was still missing. Atem hoped fervently that the young, defenceless scribe was somewhere far, far away from here.
"Looked your fill, my King?"
The voice dripped sarcasm along with a healthy dose of hatred, and Atem turned with hardened eyes back to the current occupant of his throne. The Thief King was seated with a wide smirk on his face, one leg hooked nonchalantly over the side of the golden seat, Millennium Ring still glinting around his neck. Atem could feel anger rise from his gut at the sight of such blatant disrespect. It gave him the strength to finally find his voice. "What have you done, Thief King?!"
The man merely laughed, dark cackles resounding through the vast Palace court. "Is it not blindingly obvious? Step further into the light if you are still unsure, Pharaoh."
Trembling, Atem stepped forwards, his gaze constantly trained on the thief. "I want you to tell me who you are and what your business is here, before I call my guards and have you thrown in the dungeon."
"Threats, my King?" The Thief King merely sounded amused. "Threats, from you? You have no one to run to, I'm afraid."
Atem's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"He's right, my King!" Seto's voice rang through the courtroom, his voice firm and dark with hatred. "The guards have betrayed us; they are working for him."
Atem span to face him, shock plainly obvious in both his expression and tone. "What?!"
"Ah, yes," The Thief King purred, leaving the throne in favour of descending the steps and standing right in front of Atem. "I forgot to mention that part, didn't I? So forgetful of me."
Atem met his laughing eyes with a harsh glare. He struggled to keep his voice even as he replied. "What do you mean, tomb robber? Tell me what you have done!"
"Well, you see," The Thief King responded lightly, "This uprising has been in the making for a long time, Pharaoh, and not merely by my doing either. Your people have been turning against you."
Atem remained stiffly upright as the Thief King circled him. "Explain. Now."
"As you wish." The silken words were almost whispered directly into his ear, but there was enough force behind them to carry through the entire courtroom. Oh, yes, this man certainly knew what he was doing. "You may know me as the Thief King, and that is indeed my title, but I was born an innocent child much the same as all your people. Unfortunately, those of us born outside of the Palace walls seem to matter a little less to you than those within."
"You lie," Atem hissed, and the Thief King circled round to meet his gaze again.
One white eyebrow was raised. "You doubt my words, Pharaoh? You already know the truth of them. I'm sure if I mention that I am the sole survivor of Kul Elna, you may begin to understand a little more exactly why I am here."
Atem couldn't stop his eyes from widening at the mention of that place. Kul Elna? His father had spoken of such a village, before his passing, but Atem had been very young. He could hardly remember what his father had said – something about having to pray for repentance...
Seeing the Pharaoh's confusion, the Thief King released a low chuckle. "Could it be that your father forgot to tell you of his greatest mistake? Allow me to enlighten you then, Pharaoh. My village was destroyed by his guards when I was merely a child. They spared no one. And would you like to know why my people were mindlessly slaughtered?" The Thief King didn't even give Atem a chance to reply, continuing to pour his poisonous words into the young Pharaoh's ears. "They were sacrifices, used to create certain Items of power. Items you are rather familiar with, I suspect, seeing as one is lying about your neck."
Atem's hands flew to the Millennium Puzzle, and his shocked eyes sought out the Thief King's amused expression. Atem shook his head, refusing to believe it, but he took a step back when the Thief King fixed him with a sharp, dangerous glare.
"Do not presume to tell me I am lying," The Thief King hissed. "I watched my village destroyed in the name of that filthy gold. You are in no position to disbelieve my words."
Atem recoiled at the ferocity of his tone, and the Thief King continued, apparently satisfied with his reaction. "Of course, the wrongdoing to my own village is not the sole reason that this uprising has been so successful. There are plenty who are dissatisfied with your rule, Pharaoh, and they are not so difficult to incite. In fact, by the time my reputation grew, several people were coming to me rather than the other way around."
Atem frowned at that, a shake of his head plainly showing his disbelief. "I don't believe you. The whole of my Kingdom knows that you bring only pain and suffering."
The Thief King's smirk widened at his words. "And what of those in pain and suffering during your reign, hm? What of those who have no food, no water, who cannot afford the high prices you put on bread and cloth? Does your sympathy not stretch to them also, my King?"
Atem stopped, surprised. Was it possible that this man was speaking the truth? "My people know that the taxes are necessary for –"
Another loud peal of laughter cut off the young Pharaoh's speech; the Thief King had to actually wipe his eyes before he could continue. "Necessary for what? For you to continue your luxurious life in this wanton sinkhole of a Palace? No, Pharaoh, do not mistake necessity for greed."
Atem's mouth snapped shut as he realised he had no answer. In all honesty, he rarely left the Palace walls and he had little idea of what the life of his subjects was truly like. For all he knew, the Thief King could be telling the truth.
As if hearing his thoughts, the Thief King's lips stretched into a leering smile. "Very good, Pharaoh, you're finally catching on. Yes, your people came to me, desperate and in need as they are. And I stepped up, and took over. And, well, here we are."
Atem shook his head, backing away quickly; the line of armed men behind him stopped him from going too far, though. The Thief King watched with amusement as the Pharaoh was shoved back into the centre of the courtroom, but Atem turned soon enough to meet his gaze once again. "You," Atem spoke with a quiet, controlled fury, "Are to tell me exactly how you got into my Palace."
"Or what?" The Thief King's voice was dangerous, his tone darker than the shadows that danced along the stone walls. "Don't presume to threaten me, Atem. I assure you that you will come to regret it."
Atem could feel the fury building again; his whole body shook with it. "You threaten me, in my own Palace? Who do you think you are?!"
Atem had gone too far. He could see it in the narrowing of the Thief King's eyes, in the way his muscles tensed and his features contorted in fury. "I think," The Thief King ground out, "That I am Thief King Bakura, and that you have no right to talk to me like that. I threaten you, great Pharaoh, because I have something that I know you want." Bakura clicked his fingers and a guard stepped out from behind the throne. Atem's blood ran cold at what he saw.
Yugi stood trembling in the guard's strong grip, his violet eyes wide and his pale skin marked with bruises and cuts. His lip was bleeding, one eye blackened, his usually vibrant hair flat and dull against his skull as he shivered in the strong hands that held him. His feet dangled from the floor, but his gaze directly sought out Atem's. His violet eyes were filled with fear.
Atem roared. "You let him go! Let him go right now!"
Bakura merely chuckled, turning and springing effortlessly back up to the throne; he settled down as if he already owned the place. "Now, now, Pharaoh, we have business to attend to first. I happen to know just how important this little scribe is to you, so I am holding him ransom until you do my bidding. Understand?"
Atem ground his teeth in frustration, his whole body itching to run to Yugi's side, desperate to help him. He took a single step in Yugi's direction, but Bakura gestured and a knife appeared in the gloved hand, pressed tightly against Yugi's throat. Atem froze.
Bakura chuckled again. "Good boy. Now, this is how things are going to work; you are going to spend tonight in the dungeons, and tomorrow morning you shall issue a royal decree stating that you are resigning from your role as Pharaoh, and you shall declare my good self as your successor. If you're good, I might let you live. If you disagree, I shall kill that little one you seem to care so much about. Are we clear?"
Atem fumed silently, his mind turning as he desperately hunted for some way out of his situation. That knife at Yugi's throat rather limited his options, though, and he couldn't stand to see his young friend in such a state. "One thing, Thief King," The youthful Pharaoh ground out, his tone dark and dull. "Why Yugi? Why not Seto, or one of the other Item holders? Why him?"
Bakura's smirk widened as he contemplated the question. "Ah, Pharaoh, I know far more about you than you are aware. I know that this scribe has remained loyally by your side every day since you were small children. He watches you when you sleep and stays with you when you wake, but there is more to it than that, is there not?" Here, Bakura leaned forwards, his purple eyes sharp as they discerned every hidden emotion in Atem's tight features. "You see, I think if it were Isis, or Seto, or another member of your council, you would be far more willing to continue with the fight. As it is, though..." Bakura lifted a hand, and the knife was pressed even closer to Yugi's throat; the scribe writhed, letting out a squeak of pain. Atem started, wishing more than ever to go to him, but knowing Yugi would be killed if he took so much as one step. Bakura smirked. "Yes, I know. Your feelings for him run rather a lot deeper than you let on, do they not?"
Atem stiffened, his eyes flashing as he glared at the Thief King, although it wasn't long before his gaze strayed once more to the young scribe. Yugi's wide violet eyes were fixed desperately on his face. The Pharaoh drew a shaky breath – Yugi deserved the truth, now more than ever before. Without thinking, he took a step closer. "Yugi, I ... I will need to talk with you. Once this is over, I will explain, I promise."
Yugi was held too tightly to reply, but something softened in his eyes at Atem's words. It was the best he could do, for now; the Pharaoh was acutely aware that all members of his council were following the scene with great interest.
Bakura nonchalantly swung one leg over the arm of the throne, settling back carelessly. "You can go to the dungeon now, Atem. If you're good, I might let you spend your last night with that scribe of yours, but you must go quietly, or he will be killed."
Atem hissed. "Not so fast, Bakura. How do you know so much about me? How were you able to capture Yugi?"
"Ah, a good question," Bakura responded with a dip of his head. "I had inside knowledge at my disposal. Not all members of your court are as loyal as you think."
Atem blinked, whirling quickly to stare at the corner where his council members were held. They were all there; nothing was amiss, except...
"Got it in one, Pharaoh."
That voice was unmistakeable, and out of the shadows stepped a familiar blonde figure with white, tombkeeper robes sweeping behind him. Marik stepped up by the throne, his fingers trailing along Bakura's arm much the way Yugi's did when it was Atem in his rightful place. Atem's world was crumbling as he watched one of his most trusted advisors standing with his greatest enemy, turning to face him with cold, hard eyes.
Atem shook his head. "Marik? What..."
He was interrupted by a small shriek from the council. "Marik! Brother, what are you doing? Get away from there!"
Isis struggled against the line of armed thieves separating her from her brother, but Marik silenced her with one harsh look. "Silence, sister. I will not spend the rest of my life doing the bidding of an unjust ruler. I am liberating Egypt."
Atem turned to Marik with hard eyes. "You're not liberating Egypt; you are sending her to her doom."
Marik scoffed, but it was Bakura who spoke. "Now, now, Pharaoh. Remember what I said about being good. Your little friend still has a knife to his throat."
Atem flinched at the words, gaze flying immediately back to Yugi. Turning back to the Thief King, Atem's shoulders drooped. "You leave me no choice. I will go."
Bakura's smirk grew as the guards rose to take the former Pharaoh away.
...
That night, Atem lay curled on the floor of one of his own dungeons. The cell was tiny and it stank, suspicious rustles coming from a pile of rotten hay that had Atem instantly thinking of rats. He rested his back against a wall, his knees pulled up to his chest as he listened to the sounds of the guards outside the cell. His mind was constantly on the wellbeing of Yugi, and he found himself truly worrying that the young scribe would not survive the night. Just let him try, Atem found himself thinking, his heart constricting in his chest at the mere thought of losing his young friend. Just let the Thief King try, because I swear before all the Gods of my ancestors that if he harms one hair on Yugi's head, all the dread powers of Anubis will pale in comparison to my wrath.
A rustle outside the door had Atem instantly on his feet, and next thing he knew a small figure was thrown carelessly onto the cell floor, the door closing instantly behind him. Atem spared it no glance as he rushed to the body on the floor; his heart stopped in his throat when he saw it was Yugi. The scribe's pale skin was decorated with ugly bruises, some purple, others blue-black; one of his eyes was swollen almost shut, his lips cut and bleeding and his robes torn. Atem circled one arm behind Yugi's back, lifting him carefully and resting him against his chest; Yugi's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow as he fell back against Atem. The youthful ruler swallowed bile that rose in his throat, cradling Yugi carefully to him and brushing his hair out of his face. Yugi mumbled something unintelligible, his unharmed eye slowly slipping open. "A-Atem? Is that really you?"
Atem felt like crying at Yugi's voice, thin and trembling as it was. He tightened his grip around the small scribe, pulling him up into his lap and resting his chin in his hair. "Yes, Yugi, it's me. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry for what they did to you."
Yugi turned slightly in the Pharaoh's grip, his violet eyes blinking in confusion. He winced slightly as Atem grazed one of his cuts. "What are you talking about? It isn't your fault..."
"It is." Atem's voice was muffled by Yugi's hair, but the scribe could hear him clear as day. "If I didn't ... if I didn't care about you so much, then they wouldn't have taken you. If I hadn't been selfish, and kept you by my side, you could be far away from here, out of danger..."
Yugi shook his head, his movements slow and obviously painful. To Atem's surprise, a small smile was decorating his lips. "Say that again."
Atem frowned. "What? Yugi –"
"Say you care about me again." Yugi was definitely smiling now; a trickle of blood trailed down his chin from his still-bleeding lips. "I've waited a long time to hear you say that."
Understanding dawned in the young King's eyes. Slowly, he raised one hand and wiped the blood away from Yugi's skin, leaning down and pressing his lips against his pale forehead. "I care about you, Yugi," He whispered against his skin. "I've cared about you for about as long as I can remember. If you died tonight, I ... I would never forgive myself."
Yugi sighed, the sound content as he lay comfortably in Atem's embrace. "It isn't your fault. Even if you'd asked me to leave, I wouldn't have gone. I like being around you, Atem. I care about you, too."
Atem stiffened, surprised, and Yugi let out a quiet laugh. "Are you really surprised? I've stayed by your side all this time, just so that I could show you at least some of the affection I hold for you. Taking care of you is what I do best. I'm sorry I failed you tonight; the guards crept up on me whilst you were sleeping..."
"Hush," Atem interrupted gently, his arms tightening around Yugi's back. "Don't blame yourself, not even for a second. My guards turned against us, along with Marik; there was nothing we could do."
Yugi let out a low hiss of pain, and Atem instantly loosened his grip. "What is it? Are you hurt?"
"No," Yugi shook his head, "Well, no more than I was before. You were just gripping a little too tight."
"If you want me to let go..."
Yugi smiled, shaking his head again. "No. Please, don't let go. Don't ever let me go."
"Never," Atem promised quietly. "Never. But after tomorrow, I don't know what sort of a life I'll be living, if any at all. Bakura doesn't strike me as a merciful character."
At that, Yugi's brows furrowed in confusion. He sat up a little, twisting around to give Atem a glare. "...What are you talking about? You aren't giving up, are you?"
Atem sighed heavily, eyes downcast. "I don't have a choice. With Marik on his side, he has access to all information on the Palace. His coup has been entirely successful, and he has usurped me from my throne. I'm done, Yugi."
"No!" The scribe scrambled away from Atem at that, his eyes widening as much as they could past the bruising. "You can't just give up like that!"
"What choice do I have?"
"More of a choice than this!" Yugi crawled across the floor, gripping Atem's chin firmly; his desperation made him brave as he forced the Pharaoh to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Atem. If you just give in, you aren't just condemning yourself – you're condemning all of Egypt to live under that madman! Are you going to just turn your back on everything we've worked for?"
Atem's expression was one of surprise. "But, Yugi, you heard him earlier today. If I do anything to try and stop him, he will kill you; you should know by now that I cannot allow that."
Yugi's eyes softened for a moment, but his expression was still determined. "I don't care about that, Atem. The fact still remains that you are the Pharaoh – you're the chosen one. If you fall, Egypt falls with you, and we cannot let that happen. You've got to fight him."
"I can't!" Atem rocked forwards, hands finding purchase on Yugi's shoulders as he stared deep into his eyes. "I can't, Yugi! The moment I try anything, anything, Bakura will kill you. I cannot let that happen! Do you understand me? I can't let you die, because without you I might as well be dead, too! I would barely be a person without you by my side, and I certainly could never be Pharaoh! So stop suggesting it, because there is no way I can fight him whilst he holds you ransom. I know that Egypt will fall, and that I will fall with her, but there is nothing I can do. I won't lose you, Yugi, no matter what the cost; I value you far too highly for that."
Yugi sat still and shocked under the force of Atem's words, the pain from his injuries forgotten as he stared at this youthful man he had known for most of his life. Atem had never laid his emotions out so plainly before, had never admitted quite how much he needed Yugi before; the scribe had had very little idea of what the Pharaoh truly felt for him. Yugi shivered as he felt his heart rise within him, a soft sigh escaping his lips as a warmth slowly filled him, from the tips of his fingers to the very ends of his toes. Finally, he understood why his Pharaoh was so reluctant to fight.
Atem watched with fear weighing down his heart as Yugi slowly processed the meaning behind his words. The Pharaoh's relief was palpable when the scribe smiled, pulling himself closer and curling up once more in the safety of Atem's arms; Atem held him as gently as he could, fingers gently stroking along Yugi's scarred skin. Yugi sighed.
Silence held for a few more moments before Yugi next spoke. "You can have absolutely no idea how happy you make me, Atem, but I can't let you stop fighting for my sake." Feeling the Pharaoh stiffen against him, Yugi turned to meet his gaze, continuing quickly. "I understand what you said, and you should know by now that I feel the same about you, but we can't lose this battle. You've got to fight Bakura – both for Egypt, and for me."
Atem stared at him with shock in his every feature. "You know why I can't, Yugi. He will kill you..."
"No." Yugi shook his head. "That's only if you follow his terms."
Atem tilted his head, arms once more wrapping around Yugi's back. "What are you saying here?"
A small, secretive smile flitted across the scribe's battered face. "I have a plan..."
...
Bakura had done it.
Lying sprawled out on the Pharaoh's throne, the Thief King highly doubted whether life could get any better. He had finally succeeded; he had broken into the Palace and taken the Pharaoh's reign right out from under him, stripping him of all his riches before throwing him into one of his own dungeons, whilst Bakura resided comfortably on his throne. The irony of the situation did not escape him, and a raspy chuckle left his lips into the silent, empty courtroom. No, life could not get much better than this.
"Don't think you achieved this all on your own, thief."
Except for that, of course. Bakura didn't even bother turning as he lazily responded, "I could have done this without your help, Marik. Don't go getting arrogant, now."
"As if," Scoffed the tombkeeper, his white robes spilling around him as he approached the throne. A secretive smile played about his lips as he settled on the adorned arm of the golden seat. "What do you suppose is going through the Pharaoh's mind right now?"
Bakura allowed a smirk to pull up one corner of his mouth. "I hope he's quaking in fear. He deserves to, after everything he put me through."
"Me, too," Marik responded automatically, sliding one arm over and allowing his fingers to trail up Bakura's arm. "He harmed both of us, remember."
Bakura turned with a wicked grin. "You know, the Pharaoh isn't on his own down there – I allowed him to spend his last night with his little scribe friend."
"Oh, really?" Marik looked surprised for a moment before his eyes narrowed and his lips stretched wide. "That was rather merciful of you. What do you suppose they're talking about?"
"I very much doubt that they're talking," Bakura purred, gripping Marik's hips tightly by way of response.
Marik smirked, sliding closer until he was practically perched on the Thief King's lap. "Oh really? What do you think they're doing, then?"
"Much the same as we are now, I imagine," Bakura grinned, pulling Marik into a kiss. The tombkeeper sighed, pushing him back onto the throne so that he could fully straddle Bakura's lap. Bakura tilted his head, roughly nipping at Marik's neck and eliciting a chuckle.
"Not very appropriate, doing this on a throne, is it?"
"Does it look like I care?" Bakura growled, pulling Marik back into a bruising kiss. The tombkeeper happily complied, sliding further up his lap and moaning softly into his mouth. Bakura grasped the back of his head roughly to keep him in position, until...
"Sir, there is someone here to see you."
Bakura hissed as Marik pulled away, turning to glare at the guard who had dared to interrupt them. "I'm busy. Get out."
"It's the Pharaoh, Sir. He has a proposition for you."
Marik lifted a brow, clambering fully off Bakura's lap and looking at the guard with interest. "Isn't the Pharaoh locked in a dungeon?"
"I was," Sounded a stern, quiet voice, "But then I decided it would be better to just get this over with."
Bakura shot upright, surprise showing in his features before he got himself back under control, usual sardonic smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, really? Couldn't cope with spending the night in a dungeon, hm?"
Atem appeared slowly from the shadows, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression one of calm. "No. I couldn't spend the night knowing that I had willingly handed my Kingdom over to the likes of you."
Bakura scoffed. "Careful now, Pharaoh. I am the one in control here; it probably isn't all that wise to offend me."
"I would disagree with that assumption." Atem briefly smiled, much to Bakura's shock.
"So you thought you'd just come back in here and demand that I give you your throne back?" Bakura shook his head, smirk still playing about his lips. "Sorry, Pharaoh, but that isn't going to work. How did you even get out of the dungeon?"
By way of a reply, Atem merely removed his hands from behind his back, revealing the Millennium Puzzle still clutched tightly in his grasp.
Marik frowned. "You didn't take that off him before you locked him up?"
Bakura's eyes sparked. "An oversight I shall not repeat. Give it back, Pharaoh, or I'll have my guards kill that little partner of yours. Yugi, isn't it?"
Atem smiled briefly. "Ah, yes. We thought you might pull a trick like that. Luckily, I made provisions."
Before Bakura could even blink, a spark of shadow magic shot from the Millennium Puzzle, aiming not for Bakura, but for Marik. With a startled gasp, the tombkeeper found himself suddenly frozen still, yellow lines hovering about his immobile form as his muscles cramped painfully. A scream tore from his lips.
Bakura was up and out of the throne in an instant, hands roughly grasping Atem's shoulders and shaking him madly. "Release him at once, or I'll have you killed."
Atem looked calmly back, the Puzzle still firm in his grasp. "I will release him once you free Yugi."
Bakura growled, his hand darting instantly to the Ring around his neck. "Have you forgotten that I also possess a Millennium Item? I can seek out your little friend in an instant. How about I do that right now, hm? It's only fair he gets to join in the fun." Without waiting for a response, Bakura activated the Ring; a small squeak from a shadowy corner informed him he'd found his mark, and in an instant Bakura had strode to the corner, lifting up the small scribe and thrusting him into the light. "I've found your friend, Pharaoh. Now release Marik at once, before I kill him."
"That's just it," Atem continued quietly. "If you kill him, then I kill Marik. You know I can, with shadow magic."
A low growl ripped through Bakura's lips as he turned his sharp gaze on the Pharaoh. Atem looked back calmly, one glance into Yugi's violet gaze enough to give him the strength to continue. "Now, listen closely, Bakura. We are clearly at an impasse; you hold someone important to me, and I hold someone important to you." Atem licked his lips before continuing, his voice low and even. "I propose that we settle this in a more traditional way."
Bakura continued to pin him with that stern purple glare. "Continue."
Atem's gaze remained trained directly onto the Thief King. "These are my terms. No shadow magic, no use of spirits, and certainly no use of the Millennium Items. We fight with one weapon, and one weapon only: the sword."
Silence roared through the chamber for one long moment before Bakura threw back his head and let loose a raucous stream of laughter. Atem kept his gaze calm, his eyes sliding between Yugi and Bakura, because Bakura's blade really was very close to Yugi's throat, and he wasn't paying too much attention to it in the midst of his loud laughter...
After what felt like hours Bakura finally quietened, turning an amused glance on the youthful Pharaoh. "You would challenge me to a sword duel, Atem? You, who have grown up pampered inside your Palace walls? I have lived by the sword for my entire life. You would pit your kingdom on the outcome of a sword fight?"
Atem merely nodded.
The smirk was very evident on Bakura's face as he finally removed the blade from Yugi's throat. Atem visibly relaxed at that, watching carefully as Yugi's beaten form retreated as far away from Bakura as he could get. The Thief King barely spared him a glance as he advanced towards Atem. "Release Marik, now. Stick to your own terms, Pharaoh; no shadow magic."
"No shadow magic," Atem agreed, "And no magic at all. No Items, no spirits, nothing. I know of your extra abilities, Thief King."
Bakura leered. "And how exactly did you plan to stop me using them?"
Atem merely gestured towards Marik, who was still frozen by the power of the Millennium Puzzle. "I catch even a hint that you're using magic, and I won't hesitate to use shadow magic. That's assuming, of course, that you aren't man enough to prove your abilities without cheating."
Predictably, Bakura rose to the bait. In seconds he was right up in Atem's face, his red robe flaring around him as he purred silkily. "I don't think it's in your best interests to insult me just now, Pharaoh. Don't forget that I'm still in control of your guards, and I have all members of your council locked up. I could call any number of people to come and lock you back up, within seconds."
Atem knew that he was close. All it would take was one last push, one more nudge, for Bakura to agree... "Of course. I should have known, Thief King."
"Known what?" Bakura snarled.
Atem had him now. The Pharaoh edged back a step, moving in a wary circle around the Thief King, surreptitiously gauging his strength at the same time as distracting him. He had to admit, Bakura looked damn strong; Atem had a tough fight ahead of him. One glance at Yugi's determined face was enough to remind Atem of exactly what he was fighting for, though.
With a hardened glare, Atem turned back to face Bakura. "I should have known that you'd hide behind your guards at the first opportunity. You can strut around in here all you like, Bakura, but if you aren't strong enough to fight your own battles then you are even weaker than I."
In a flash, Atem's back was against the wall, his head snapping painfully against the cold marble as a torch danced its hazy pattern beside him. There was a cry of, "No!" From Yugi's direction, and a relieved hiss as Atem's distraction finally released the shadow magic that had bound Marik so successfully. Bakura leaned in close to the youthful Pharaoh, his long fingers wrapped tightly around his wrists and his sharp, narrowed gaze trained directly onto Atem's own dark eyes. "Do not presume," Bakura hissed, "To underestimate me. I see what you are trying here, Pharaoh. You wish to incite me into this duel. You know that I have the upper hand here; I am the one in control, and you have no hope against me whilst your Palace and people have turned their backs on you. Your only hope is to challenge me one-on-one, because it is the only way you will get a fair fight. Am I correct?"
Atem stayed silent, gaze searching as he studied the man before him. It had seemed he had once again underestimated the Thief King – Atem had not expected Bakura to be quite so cunning. When Yugi had come up with this plan, Atem had thought it would be foolproof; once Bakura agreed to the duel, Atem would have a fair chance. But if Bakura had seen through him this easily, then getting him to agree to the terms would not be as easy as he thought...
"You should accept, Thief King."
Atem nearly slid down the wall at the sound of that voice; only Yugi could speak with such innocent determination. His surprise showed in his widened eyes as he turned to face his young scribe, shocked at the amount of ferocity on such youthful features.
Yugi stepped forwards, and Bakura chuckled darkly. "Ah, so the mouse speaks. What is it you wanted to say, scribe?"
"You should accept the duel," Yugi repeated, louder this time. "It's the only way you can truly prove your worth."
Bakura scoffed, amusement still decorating the smirk at his lips. "Excuse me for being a little slow, but to my eyes I already have 'proved my worth.' I am the one seated on the throne, not this pathetic man that you call Pharaoh."
"He isn't pathetic!" Yugi stepped forwards again, but Marik was by his side in an instant, blocking his path to Atem.
Bakura laughed darkly. "Sweet, how quickly you come to his defence. I wonder if he would do the same for you..."
"Enough messing around," Atem interrupted lowly. "You know that I would do everything in my power to protect Yugi. That is why I am standing up to you now. Last chance, Thief King – will you duel me, or not?"
Bakura stared for a long moment, his expression, for once, impassive, with no sign of that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. The silence was still and calm, heavy with expectancy. Atem watched with a tight coil of nerves in his stomach, his feet rooted to the spot as he tried to decipher Bakura's thought process. The Thief was a master, though, and none of his emotions showed through on his face.
In the end, it was Yugi who spoke first. "What if we raised the stakes?"
Bakura quirked a brow, releasing Atem in favour of turning his burning gaze on Yugi. "Of what do you speak, scribe?"
"Let me make this more interesting for you." Yugi stepped around Marik, who was watching curiously as Yugi advanced, right up to the Thief King; Atem's heart was in his mouth as he watched Bakura's threatening figure tower over the small form of his friend. Yugi spoke again, and was proud that his voice didn't waver once. "Instead of a regular duel to the death, this is how it will work. If you win, you kill Atem and assume his throne. But if Atem wins, then he spares your life, and you are free to go. You will be banished, though, and never allowed to return to Egypt."
Bakura paused, contemplating. "...You are offering me a duel with no stakes. Either way, I get something I want - the kingdom, and Atem dead; or my life. Very smart, scribe."
Yugi puffed his chest up bravely, his eyes hard. "So do you accept? Will you duel him?"
"Hm..." Bakura whirled around suddenly, red robe flaring. He advanced on the young king again, seemingly pleased when Atem recoiled. "...Not quite yet, little scribe. I have a higher price than merely my life."
Atem stared at him with hatred marring his features. "Name your price."
"As you wish." Bakura stepped closer, and Atem's back hit the wall again. How did this thief always manage to manoeuvre him into a corner? "I propose that it is not your life that will be forfeit. If I win, I kill the scribe. And you will watch, Atem, and know that you were the cause of his death."
"No!" Atem exclaimed, the syllable ringing through the chamber. He pushed Bakura back, taking the thief by surprise as he rushed straight to the side of his already-battered scribe. "Yugi has already suffered too much because of me. I will not let you take his life!"
"That's my price," Bakura snapped, brushing down his robes as he glared at Atem. "Take it or leave it, Pharaoh – it's the only way for you to get your precious throne back."
Atem shook his head, rejecting the idea. He turned back to Yugi with desperation in his eyes, clutching Yugi's shoulders tightly as he met his gaze. "I can't do this. This isn't what we planned, Yugi – I won't risk your life."
"You have to," Yugi whispered, his voice small in the vast courtroom. "Egypt will –"
"I don't care about Egypt!" Atem's hands grasped Yugi's shoulders tighter, bringing him in to a tight hug.. "I care about you, Yugi. I love you."
Yugi allowed his eyes to drift closed, lifting his arms up to hold Atem just as tightly as the Pharaoh was clutching him. When he spoke, his voice was a little stronger, but his words made Atem's heart ache. "I love you, too. Which is why you have to do this."
"Yugi..."
"Hear me out, Atem." Yugi drew back slightly, meeting his gaze with fiery violet eyes. "You will fight him, and you will win. Then you can come back, and Egypt will be safe; I won't let you destroy your kingdom to protect me."
"I won't fight him with your life on the line!"
"You will," Yugi continued, his expression determined. "Because if you don't, then I'll fight in your stead."
Atem stopped short, fear constricting his throat. His heart shrank. "You, fight him? You can't! You've never held a sword in your life!"
"I could still try," Yugi continued, determined. "Unless you fight him for me. Will you fight for me, Atem?"
The young Pharaoh froze, his arms still tight around the scribe, his fingers digging into Yugi's back. "I ... Yugi, you ask too much of me..."
"You can do it." Yugi nodded, determination clear in his features. "I know you can do it." He stepped back, releasing Atem slowly and nodding to Bakura, who had been watching with an amused smirk. "Go on. Beat him for me."
Atem drew in a shuddering breath, turning with clenched fists back to Bakura. "Fine. I accept your turns."
Bakura grinned wickedly, but Marik stepped between them, his eyes sharp as he turned on his former leader. "You spare his life, understand? If you win, you spare his life."
"Such little faith in me, Marik," Bakura drawled, his arms crossed and chin tilted arrogantly.
Marik sent him a dark glare. "Maybe if you weren't such an arrogant asshole, I'd put more trust in you."
Bakura merely chuckled.
Atem looked back at Marik. "I won't kill him. If I win, he will be banished, and you alongside him, Marik. I don't understand why you betrayed me."
Marik's eyes were hard as he slowly stepped aside. "I do not wish to spend my life underground, just so that I may guard your tomb when you pass."
"You are foolish, Marik, to have been taken in by him."
"Maybe I was foolish to be taken in by you," Marik muttered as he retreated into the shadows.
Bakura kept his eyes directly on Atem as he dropped into a crouch, wicked blade suddenly present in his arms. "Keep an eye on the midget for me, Marik. I'm looking forward to killing him once this is over."
"I will never let that happen," Atem hissed, matching Bakura's stance with a blade of his own. The sword was comfortable and familiar in his grasp, the grip melded perfectly to his fingers, the blade kept sharp despite its rare use. "I will defeat you before I let you touch one hair on Yugi's head."
Bakura merely smirked, then struck.
Atem matched his stroke with an upward swipe of his own, metal ringing together loud enough to rumble through the whole courtroom. Bakura left no time before attacking again, his sword a mere blur of motion as he drove Atem backwards. The young Pharaoh defended himself as best he could, using quick, darting movements to skip out of Bakura's reach, his own blade snapping up to meet Bakura's where he could.
Yugi watched with terror clutching his heart as Atem fought the Thief King. At first the Pharaoh did well, holding his own against the might of Bakura, but it quickly became apparent that Atem was desperately out of practise. All young members of the Palace are taught how to fight with a sword, but for the Pharaoh it was mostly ceremonial training, because he would always have guards there to fight his battles for him. Bakura, by contrast, had lived his whole life out in the desert; his whole attitude screamed 'kill or be killed'. It was clear to Yugi that Bakura had the upper hand here, never mind his height advantage and his obvious strength. Atem put up a good fight, but it was fairly clear that he was losing, fast.
As he watched, Bakura executed a flawless series of moves, successfully sweeping Atem's legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor. Bakura moved to stand over him, sword hovering threateningly just over his throat. Bakura was breathing heavily when he spoke. "Forfeit, Pharaoh?"
"Never," Atem ground out, and he rolled out from under the blade, recovering his own sword in the process of swinging back up to his feet.
The fight continued.
Yugi could feel his heart shrinking with every ring of metal, his hands balled into tight little fists by his side as he desperately watched Atem throw everything he had at the duel. Both parties were panting now, their faces dripping with sweat as they circled each other in a seemingly endless dance. Atem's palms were growing slippery, the sword sliding in his grasp as he struggled to hold it aloft. Sensing his weakness, Bakura pressed forwards in a sudden onslaught of wicked strokes and Atem gasped as he struggled to defend himself. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and Bakura's sharp blade cut smoothly into the soft skin of his side.
"No!" Yugi screamed, dashing forwards only to be dragged back by Marik. Yugi struggled and fought, his movements desperate as he continued to scream. "Atem! ATEM! Are you alright? Oh, Gods, please don't die, ATEM!"
Atem stumbled back, sword slipping from his grasp as both hands went to the wound at his side; his fingers came back coated with blood. Bakura watched with a sadistic satisfaction as Atem dropped to his knees, his vision clouding as pain shot through from his wound. Yugi struggled against Marik, trying to escape his strong grip. "Atem! ATEM!"
Through the roaring in his ears, Atem turned his head to meet Yugi's strong violet gaze. There was fear in his eyes, a fear that ran deep through his body; if Atem lost, the Yugi would be killed...
He would never let that happen.
With an almighty roar, Atem thrust himself upright, fumbling fingers once more grasping his sword as he launched himself at Bakura. The Thief King's expression turned from sadistic victory to shocked alarm as Atem tackled him, launching them both to the floor. In an instant, Atem had disarmed the man, throwing him onto his back and placing the sword at his neck, one foot on his chest to keep him firmly in place. Bakura breathed heavily, his eyes flaring with hatred as he stared up at his Pharaoh, the man he had spent his whole life trying to defeat. Bakura had not come so far only to lose now.
Atem kept the sword steady, his voice firm even through the blood that trickled from the wound in his side. "You have lost, tomb robber. Submit to me."
Bakura spat, spittle flying into Atem's face. He blinked it away, pressing the sword a little harder into Bakura's neck; the dark skin broke.
"Forfeit, thief," Atem commanded, his voice once more tinged with the authority he had come so close to losing.
Bakura snarled up at him. "Never."
"Then you leave me no choice." Atem's voice was quiet, his tone resigned as he looked with hollow eyes at the thief. The sword sunk deeper into his skin, blood soon flowing freely from Bakura's neck...
"No!" In a flurry of movement, Marik was between Bakura and Atem, his eyes sharp as he stared furiously at Atem. "You swore you would spare his life. You swore. Will you go back on your word now, Pharaoh?"
"Marik, get out of the way," Bakura hissed, but Atem was already stepping back, the sword lowered by his side.
"Go," He said quietly. "Go, before I change my mind."
Marik didn't waste any time; in seconds he had dragged Bakura's arm over his shoulder and cast a quick spell, making the two of them disappear into the shadows. In a matter of minutes, it was as if they had never been there.
The sword clattered out of Atem's grasp as he fell once more to his knees, hands clutching at the wound in his side. Blood was pooling on the floor around him, seeping into the stone as his eyes slid closed; a roaring filled his ears as he slid to the ground.
Suddenly, warm arms were wrapped around his back, keeping him upright. His head was pressed against a chest, where he could hear a small heart beating furiously. Yugi's voice sounded far away when he spoke, although Atem knew he was right beside him. "You're alright, Atem, you did it! You survived, and you're going to be fine..."
"Yugi..." Atem breathed, settling against him. He forced his lids open, vision blurring as he turned to face his scribe. His eyes lit up when their gazes met.
Yugi smiled brightly at him. "You did it! I can't believe it. The Thief King is defeated!"
"I don't doubt that he'll be back," Atem murmured, arms folding around Yugi's back. "But I swear, I will never let him near you again."
"And I won't let him near you," Yugi promised. "We'll face him together, Atem."
"I'd like that," The Pharaoh murmured, his eyes sliding shut again. Yugi lifted him a little, supporting his head as he leaned in. Atem started when he felt lips brush his.
"Rest, Pharaoh," Yugi breathed. "Your Kingdom is yours once more."
There you go! I have an idea of a separate oneshot explaining Marik's side of the story, and going into the council and Millennium Items in a bit more detail. If you'd be interested in reading that, please drop me a review! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! - Jem
