DIS: I was reading over Kissed by Shadows and though I was disappointed, I got inspired to write a Malik/Anzu Medieval England fic. I rarely keep two Medieval England fics out at the same time, but I needed to do something with myself, lol. So please read below and enjoy.

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Title: A Widow's Kiss

Rating: M for some mature content and language

Genre: Romance

Summary: AU; Anzu Mazaki was widowed young, lonely. She soon met the charming Malik Ishtar and his relatives after her mourning was finished. She never thought she could love again until she met him...

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh

Notes/Warnings: Malik/Anzu; AU; Set in Medieval England

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A Widow's Kiss

Prologue

Anzu Mazaki swallowed as the casket was closed, obscuring her vision of the handsome face of her older husband. It had been an arranged marriage that had bonded the two of them together, but she still had liked him. He was respectable, never forced her to do things she disliked, kept her safe, and had made her laugh away the pain of her lonely childhood. Anzu felt her throat constrict. She was three and twenty. She had been married at seventeen and had been widowed so young. How could she ever expect herself to get over this? To move on?

Closing her eyes, she pressed her perfumed kerchief to her lips, hearing the last snap of the casket being closed, hearing the men grunt as they settled the casket on the device used to lower the casket. When she opened her eyes, she saw the brilliantly white casket being lowered into the deep hole. Anzu closed her eyes again, tears seeping from behind her eyelids. Someone had shot her husband. It had been murder. She would never get over that fact.

"Come on, sweetheart," her mother, Sofia Mazaki, coaxed as the men began to shovel dirt in the hole. "Come on..." Anzu leaned into her mother, trembling with tears. "Hush, now, darling. It was an arranged marriage, after all." Anzu knew that her own parent's marriage had been arranged and that the only reason she and her brother, Otogi, existed was because they had needed a male to take the estate. Anzu was a year older than her brother. She had been born first instead of their needed son. Otogi came after. After that son had been born, her father, Hathaway, had ignored his wife. He took great pleasure in seeing to his children's pleasantries, for they were of his limbs. He cared nothing for Sofia, though.

So, it was only natural that Anzu's mother wouldn't understand the growing respect and like she and her husband, John Mackin, had for each other.

When they arrived at her parent's manor, where she would be staying for a while, Hathaway's eyes softened at his daughter's tear-stained face and he took her in his arms gently, murmuring, "Sweetheart, you'll be okay in time."

"He was so nice to me, papa," Anzu wailed in his shoulder. "He was never mean!"

"I know," he cooed, rocking her in his arms. He led her to the drawing room. Sofia let them be. Unlike her husband, she had never been particularly close to her children. It was only when the approaching wedding of her daughter had occurred that she became the cheerful, helpful mother. After that, she merely made polite inquiries. She had never wanted children, not even before she'd met Hathaway. He, on the other hand, had always wanted children. It was that in which drove him to become closer to Anzu and Otogi.

"Papa, why would someone hurt him?" Anzu whispered minutes later after her crying had subsided, curled up to her father. "He wouldn't have shot himself or...or anything." She sniffed.

"I'm sorry, darling," Hathaway said softly, squeezing her hard, briefly. "It shouldn't hurt this much..." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Did you love him?"

"...I don't know, papa. I liked him, I know, and respected him. Isn't that enough?" He sighed, gently guiding her head to his shoulder, stroking her chocolate locks.

"In some cases, I guess it is, Anzu."

Chapter One, Widow

One year later...

Anzu Mazaki sighed to herself, pushing some hair back as she smiled at her friend, Shizuka. Earlier, her brother, Jounouchi Katsuya, had died in a war on the Continent. Her husband was Anzu's brother, Otogi, who wasn't the reason that Shizuka was presently there when she often needed help persuading her egotistical, fashionable husband about something. Anzu had recently ended her year of mourning and luckily to both her friends and family, she was over her deceased husband. The fear she'd had wasn't from the death of her husband, but because she was afraid she'd be alone without anyone. However, Shizuka and Otogi were constantly visiting her and so was her father.

Now, however, there would be no mercy from her sister-in-law, Anzu knew. It was a few months over her mourning had officially ended. She could have started courting a long time ago. She was part of the ton, but she had discontinued going to any social gatherings. By Shizuka's stern look (which was rarely on the younger female's face,) she was about to be forced into going to a ball or a soiree.

"Anzu, you have been continuously invited to balls and afternoon luncheons, have you not?" Shizuka questioned in her unquestionably girlish voice.

"Yes," Anzu replied quietly, feeling the assault beginning. Though Shizuka was only nineteen, three years younger than Anzu, she could be a very adamant and demanding woman. Though that attitude was usually directed at Otogi, Anzu thought it strange in such a sweet girl like her. "Shizuka, I know where you're going with this and I-I'm really not ready for this." The younger one's face softened and she leaned over, taking her sister-in-law's hands in hers.

"You are as ready as you have ever been, Anzu," Shizuka told her softly, smiling. "I know that it's been a long time since you've gone into society just by yourself and without John, but you have to understand that you need to move on at one point."

"I don't want to move on, Shizuka, that's the problem." Anzu sighed, dropping her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling slightly. "I'm afraid of being courted, dancing with men, and..." She swallowed, raising her eyes to Shizuka's warm, brown eyes.

"You can do it, though, Anzu. I know you can." Anzu bit her lip. "Please. Just attend the ball tonight with your brother and me. We'd like it very much. Otogi's worried about you." Anzu sighed, looking away, not speaking. "We'll come by to pick you up. If you've decided not to go, then fine, but still..." Anzu nodded silently.

"Alright. That'd be...best."

X

Malik Ishtar gave a lazy look to his older sister, who tossed a file on his desk, her face neutral. She had become less cheerful ever since her husband, Seto, had died on the Continent in the last war. Many here in England had lost family members from the war. His older brother, Marik, had nearly gotten himself killed. Malik had wisely chosen to keep out of the war, fleeing to avoid getting drafted. "Sister, you look happier than usual. What could possibly be making you smile so much?" His dry sarcasm made her smile lightly. "Better." He and Marik had made it their personal goal to cheer their sister up.

"There's a ball being held tonight at the Wicker's," she told him lightly as he picked up the file she had slapped on his desk, flipping through it idly. "I know you and Marik mean well, but I miss the excitement of a ball and the feeling of a man's body next to mine. It's been quite a few years since Seto's death. You understand, don't you, Malik?" When he glanced from the file, he guessed that Marik, his more unreasonable brother, had immediately said 'no.' And, if Isis had asked Bakura, their business associate, who was also like a third brother to Isis, it was assumed that he'd said 'no' as well. Malik, though he had his violent, irrational moments, was the better of the three and everyone knew so.

Marik was a pure rogue, through and through. He was also easily provoked. It wasn't known easily, though, when he was angry. He didn't have a burning anger like Malik or Isis did. His was a quiet, deadly cold. He had faced Marik's anger before and had shuddered and quickly fled. It was that emotionless look in his flat, lavender eyes and the slow, suave smile that curled his lips upward that made Malik nervous. Many of those that had been spectators of his fury skittered away from the elder Ishtar brother when he approached. But despite his anger, the women loved him – well, the ones that were interested in his body. Marik could seduce a woman with one look, one smile, or even one gesture. It was a talent that he had mastered over the years of bedding women. He was only seven and twenty, so he was still young, but he had begun his hunting of women at sixteen, after he'd lost his virginity to a prostitute.

Bakura was similar to Malik's brother in a couple ways. He had the cold, biting anger just as Marik did, though he didn't smile. He made it very apparent that he was pissed. His eyes would turn icy, his frown deadly, and he would strike in a moment. He also was a rogue, but he wasn't as merciful as Marik was if he got a woman pregnant. Then again, Marik had never gotten a woman pregnant. Bakura wouldn't acknowledge the woman, nor the child. He'd just throw them out on their asses. Bakura was a businessman just as Malik and Marik, though he ran a gaming hell, happily cheating any of his customers of their money when he went and played. He was an expert cheater and it was one of the reasons that neither of the Ishtar brothers played with him.

Malik, unlike his brother and friend, was more like his sister's husband, Seto, the Earl of Huntingdon. He, too, had his share of women, though he was particular about whom he slept with. His anger was red-hot and explosive. Like Marik, he could easily be angered and often, there wasn't much of anyone to stop him. There had been a time he'd nearly killed a man, but Isis's deceased husband arrived in the nick of time to stop him. Marik and Bakura had been watching impassively, not lifting a finger to help. And, Malik, like Marik and Bakura, was clever-minded and sneaky in everything he did. He wasn't afraid to commit deceit, though he never did it without reason like his two companions did. Thankfully, it was his wits that ran his actions the majority of time so people preferred to deal with him rather than his brother, who was only older than him by two years.

And so, it was he who Isis ran to when she needed approval of something. Ever since the death of Seto, who Malik had respected greatly as a friend and brother-in-law, Marik hadn't allowed Isis to do much. Malik had quietly sat back and allowed his elders to deal with their problems on their own. He, after all, had his own business to take care of.

"Isis," Malik presently said in his silky voice that captivated so many women, "you realize that it isn't my approval you need? Marik's the person you've got to go through. I'm the youngest. I can't do shit for you."

"I know," she answered steadily. "It's just that I promised a friend that I would meet her sister-in-law. I guess she had just finished mourning and is in need of some excitement in her life. I want to go back into society and then I can help her." She paused and continued, "So would you be so kind as to speak to Marik?" Malik swore inwardly. When someone – anyone – needed something important done and they knew Marik wouldn't allow it, they came to Malik for negotiating.

"I'll do what I can, Isis," Malik told her cautiously, "but you know our stubborn ass of a brother." She smiled at him in relief.

"Thank you, Malik."

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Marik Ishtar yawned to himself, his feet propped up on the corner of his desk. A slow, curving smirk came to his handsome mouth as his younger brother, Malik, entered. The two of them looked so alike that some thought they were twins. However, Malik was more beautiful than handsome, contrary to Marik. It was that factor which sometimes made it so Malik received more female attention than his elder brother. Marik was never bothered by it, though, because Malik didn't go to bed with many women. He was rather particular. He hated redheads, women with too large of chests, and wouldn't do anything with a women in her late thirties or past that. Marik didn't care himself.

"Brother," Marik greeted and Malik gave a lazy grin.

"Marik," Malik drawled. "How are you?"

"Fine enough." As Malik tossed himself into a chair leisurely, Marik made a quick assessment of his demeanor and almost grinned. So he's here on the behalf of someone else. I wonder who it is this time?

"It's been a while since Seto's been deceased."

"Mm."

"Isis has been itching to re-enter society."

Ah. Isis. "I've already given her my sentiments on that idea." Malik's eyes, which were so like Marik's, flickered towards him and his smile dropped, a solemn expression crossing his features. Marik could tell an argument was about to ensue.

"Marik, neither of us cared until Seto died. It's only fair that she be able to return to society again. It's been far too long, don't you think? Seto's been dead for about five years now. Isis is bored and restless. She needs to forget what is the past." Marik steepled his fingers and contemplated his brother's words seriously. Malik and Seto had been relatively close. True, they hadn't smiled, laughed, and clapped each other on the shoulder when they saw each other, but they had been respectable to each other and spoke civilly. Marik and Seto hadn't ever seen eye-to-eye and Seto made it known what he thought of him and Bakura. Malik hadn't had any trouble juggling his attentions between his two original friends and his brother-in-law. Malik's words of Seto being "in the past" struck Marik powerfully, knowing how their relationship had been.

"...Hmm." Marik closed his eyes briefly, leaning back in his chair. "I agree that it has been awhile. I cannot continue to have Isis come and complain to me about being bored, either. It disrupts my business." He tapped a finger on the desk, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "But we should attend each of the balls with her." He grinned, adding, "It will give us a good chance to pick up a few ladies." Malik chuckled.

"We'll have to invite Bakura along, won't we?"

"Indeed. We'd better. He'll throw a fit if we don't." The two brother's crowed with laughter, imagining the look of outrage that would be on Bakura's face if he ever found out about them attending a ball without him.

X

Anzu shook her head as she gazed at herself in the mirror. Her brother and sister-in-law would be over soon to pick her up. Somehow, as she gazed at her sapphire blue gown, it didn't seem right after the twelve months of the drab, black gowns she had worn. Anzu smoothed her hands over the silk of her gown and examined herself in the mirror again. The gown accented her breasts nicely, the sleeves drooping down to hug her arms, baring her shoulders, and the dress hugged her shapely hips. She had worn only a bit of jewelry: a few silver bracelets over her wrists and a diamond necklace. She had never been one for jewelry.

Hearing a knock on the door, Anzu took a deep breath and took her matching blue shawl, draping it over her shoulders and hurrying down the steps, her white slippers tapping on the marble. She smiled at Otogi, who had come in to meet her. He beamed at her, saying, "You look lovely, sister." He brushed a kiss over her forehead. "I'm glad you decided to come, after all."

"Well, Shizuka was right. It's time I moved on." She smiled at her brother as he took her hand, leading her outside to the carriage that was waiting. Anzu glanced at the kid gloves on Shizuka's hands and almost smiled. She had never worn kid gloves in her entire life. Her mother had tried to force her to, but she had hated them and would throw them outside. Hathaway had simply shrugged when Sofia would tell him about it. He didn't care. Whatever made her happy.

"I have a friend that's re-entering society, too," Shizuka told Anzu conversationally on the ride to the Wicker's manor, where the ball would be held. "Her brother, who, though he isn't the eldest, is the oldest out of her two brothers, has been very protective of her ever since her husband died in war on the Continent. Her oldest brother was in the war, too, but when I asked her to inquire about Jounouchi, I got a negative response." She gave a reluctant smile, adding, "She and I met when we were waiting to see if her husband or Jounouchi would be returning. While we waited, we talked. When we didn't see them, we cried on each other's shoulders until Otogi took me away. I guess her brother barely made it."

"How awful," Anzu murmured.

"It's been five years, though. If it wasn't for her youngest brother, she probably wouldn't be able to attend social gatherings anymore."

"Well, Malik is the better of the two," Otogi remarked lightly. "His older brother's a prick."

"Otogi!" The two females scolded. He shrugged helplessly.

"It's true, ladies. The man's a total asshole. I can't help it if I don't like him." Shizuka shook her head at him, turning to her sister-in-law, who was glaring mutinously at her brother.

"Ignore him. We'll make judgments for ourselves." Anzu nodded in agreement.

X

Malik had groaned when Isis announced to him that she wanted him to stay with her and introduce her to her friend, Shizuka Mazaki (her maiden name being Katsuya,) her husband, and the recently widowed friend of Shizuka's. He suspected that her widowed friend would be in her forties and would be drooling all over him. He didn't like the idea of having to be polite to some older woman who couldn't control her hormones.

"Ah! Shizuka!" Isis exclaimed, dragging her brother through the crowds to a pleasant-looking female. She was petite, Malik noted, with auburn hair, a kind face and a gentle smile. Her husband was tall with startling jade eyes, black hair done in a strange fashion, and his clothing tailored in the latest fashion for men. It was the woman beside Shizuka's husband that caught his attention. She had the most gorgeous azure eyes he'd seen. Her dress made them stand out more in her fair colored face.

"...and my husband's sister, Anzu," Shizuka introduced. "She's been in mourning for the last year for her deceased husband." Malik snapped out of his thoughts, glancing at Shizuka, then at Anzu, who curtsied.

This is the widow? He thought skeptically. She barely looks over twenty years! A quick glance over her shapely form that was enfolded by the silk sapphire cloth of her gown concluded that she certainly was not older than his own age of five and twenty.

"Malik," Isis hissed. He glanced at his sister and then gave a charming smile to Anzu, who smiled shyly in return. He gave a grand bow, taking her hand.

"Lady," he purred, brushing his lips over her hand, lingering. He noticed the bareness of her skin and he approved that she wasn't wearing any gloves. He straightened, letting her hand slip from his. Shizuka's eyes flickered from him to her sister-in-law, a smile tugging on her lips.

"My older brother is – " Isis began, but was interrupted by a seductive drawl that belonged to said older brother.

"Right here," Marik announced, his lidded glance including all of the three new companions his sister had acquired. Bakura was beside him, his suave smile fixed in place on his lips. Anzu shivered in apprehension. The two males were on either side of Malik and, looking at them, the appearance of them side-by-side like that made her nervous. Each of them were attractive, seductive, and - she was quite certain - dangerous.

End Chapter One

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DIS: Well, that was an interesting enough first chapter, eh? I think I'll prefer this Medieval England fic. The first chapter came out better than the other completed two, lol. Anyway, please review and tell me how you liked it and what you think of it so far. It'd be much appreciated! Ciao!