A one-shot from me. I was inspired to write this piece after reading a few stories where Yugi is a slave for the pharaoh and he usually becomes his husband. I see it happening differently. Not sure how people will react to it, but here it goes. (To be honest this was mostly completed five months ago. I just wrote the ending this morning, meaning the last paragraph. I am horrible at endings!)
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
REALITY
I knew this day would come, a day of great praise, of overwhelming joy spread throughout the land. Hundreds of people will shout to the heavens in triumph as the ceremony begins. The same crowd will cheer once it is over. It is a day the kingdom's future would be secure.
Yet I will not join in their jubilation. The many cries of joy coming from the city only add to my melancholy. The most celebrated event in the kingdom, other than the birth of a new king, is nothing for me to rejoice.
I sit quietly staring at his bare back as he looks at the mirror. Long, defined lines crisscrossed from his shoulders to his spine, marking the location of his muscles. Shadows form from the low lamp light along the lines and ripples with his tissue. The ripples in his muscles suggest he is tense.
My eyes travel down towards his legs. The calf muscles are wrapped with golden clasps that sparkle in the low lamplight. It is part of his normal attire. I never liked them. Those golden clasps remind me of shackles, a glorified prison among the populace that many wished to obtain.
His golden bracelets give the same impression, a captive in his own world, his own life. They dangle from his wrists, shining when the light hit them just right. Those dazzling handcuffs leave my heart in disgust. I want to tear them away, to discard them from his perfect body and allow himself to be free.
Freedom, what do I even know about that? I have been a slave all of my life, born within these walls, never to leave. He and I are the same in that aspect. Both are destined to remain in this fortress many people gape at on a daily basis. Others within the walls will praise the gods for such good fortune. He and I will not join them.
I shift my gaze from his body. Absentmindedly, it lands upon the one trinket that defines his position, a small, up-side down pyramid adorning the Eye of Horus. The eye opens the doorway to the six senses of the human body. It allows us to experience the world as we see, feel, smell, hear, taste and think about it. I wish it would be torn right now, to have that golden statue of providence shatter upon the floor, for all my senses betrayed my happiness.
I could never change the past, though, or our current situation. I would always be branded as a slave, one who takes orders and can never give orders. I will never be the master of my own destiny. Today, all I can do is sit and watch him dress for this necessary ordeal, one I prayed to the gods to stop. I know it does not matter. Even if this one is terminated, another would take its place. It is expected and ordained by tradition, society, and the gods.
Tears trickle down my cheek. No matter how much I wished this to be a dream, a false reality which I could escape, the truth was there. He is the pharaoh of the world, one who would lead his people to prosperity, who would one day leave an heir to take over.
More tears fall, but I make no sound. I did not want him to see my fears, my sorrow. He has his own heartache, a pain that we share from the bond we have. Our hearts had intertwined so many times within these same walls. We would hold each other during the long nights of winter, whispering comments of tenderness and love. During our talks I kept reality far from my mind, taking in him while I had the chance. Now, those nights would cease, for another would be in his loving grasp.
I shiver at the thought. She will experience his tender embrace with his strong arms. She will feel his hot breath against her skin. She will taste the bliss of his mouth, a mixture of spiced dates and honey. She will be his, able to provide the heir to the throne, the queen the kingdom has desperately cried for.
Nothing I could do would change the fact that I am a slave, that I am male. No matter the immeasurable love I have for him, he will never only be mine. As I slave, I have no say in what my lover does. As a male, I do not have the ability to provide a future for him. The gods must be against me, for having him so close and yet so far.
My now blurry vision catches sight of the sandstone that covered the ground. The rough surface of the plain floor causes my heart to flinch. Falling the first time against this floor, blood trickling from my knee, was the first time we kissed. He comforted me with those sun-kissed and wind-weathered lips as weak tears dripped from my lashes. It was the first time I realized how much he affected my heart, and how much I wanted to be with him. For a couple years, he was mine, and only mine. Now, my desire, and my heart, will forever be damaged after today, and destroyed after tonight.
The tears that fall from my face now do not compare to the tiny droplets that fell that day. Larger drops streak down my cheeks as they spill over from the horizontal pools that line my eyes. My days with him will end today, and it is killing me.
Cold fingertips brush against my hot tears. The sensation force my reddened eyes upwards towards the face connected to those hands. Crimson eyes stared at me. They glisten with emotion; anxiety, regret and sorrow. Wrinkles form above his forehead, making him look older than in truth. It was anomalous to his normal composed stature.
"Yugi."
That one word, my own name, releases my final resistances. My cheeks become soaked as salty streams carve into my skin. My own sorrow pours onto his fingers, coating them with my misery.
I keep my focus on his eyes. Those deep pools of red are his best feature. Exotic in their own right, they only intensified when he was filled with emotion, becoming a variety of shades. The color his eyes portray now is a dull red, almost a deep violet from the sadness. The shade I am used to seeing is a deep burgundy, clouded from love and yearning. Those eyes would shine in the flickering light of the lamp as he held me. I want to see that color one more time, before he is sealed farther into his fate and separated me forever.
I tilt my head forward, inviting him closer. The action causes my tears to drip towards my ears. I ignore the water that now runs down my neck, stroking my pulsing jugular vein.
He continues that look. Has it become pity? Does he not read my body language? Have we grown apart these few weeks as wedding preparations were discussed? I do not want this to be how we spend our last night.
My hands shake as I reach for his face. I am terrified by my forcefulness, but I want him, just once more.
But my hands never reach his face. A steady hand grasps my quivering finger. Soft lips brush against my rough skin as his lids lower, concealing his eyes for a moment.
My muscles tense. It had been only a couple days since we had been so closer, yet it was like a new sensation, as if I was feeling his touch for the first time. Why am I so scared? He has comforted me before, in the same manner, in the same bed. Have I accepted the future, breaking the bond before it is necessary? No, I am afraid he will stop me, that he will not allow more contact than this. As the Pharaoh he could kill me for such contact; as my lover, he would gently let me go and end our relationship, making it easier on me. I do not want this to end, not until Re rises the next day, when his body is chained to another in order to please the gods and Khemet.
At that moment, the two thin flaps of flesh that selfishly hid the two crimson circles raises like summer fans. Breath escapes my throat as I stare into those eyes. Two round disks of burgundy gaze intensely at me, pulling me into them. Behind that maroon hue fire burns, a yearning that I had wished to see before the night ended, and the celebration begins.
That single look breaks my fear, my doubts. The water that once leaked from my eyes slow as only a few droplets escaped. There is no reason to cry, no reason to doubt him. He is mine, to hold, to love, even if only for these last few hours.
Without any hesitation, I lunge forward. My lips latch onto his as my eyelids slip. Those two pieces of flesh feel like water-filled pillows, covered in the finest silk. I relish the taste of spice that comes from them. My face twists, causing my nose to brush against him. The smell of his caramel skin only adds to his flavorful mouth.
Slender, ring covered fingers comb through my unruly hair before stroking my neck. The sleek and polished gold bands that adorn his fingers glide over my skin. The cold embellishments prick at my flesh, but I only shiver. I do not dare let go of his mouth. Instead, my hands snake around his neck, pulling him closer. I want him, need him, desire him to be close to me. Tonight may be our last, but I will make it the best we ever had.
With time comes change, and with change comes heartbreak. I will never lie next to him again, will never be able to touch his skin or taste his mouth. I will never have him wholly to myself. That is the fate of a slave in love with the most powerful man in Khemet. Yet I regret nothing. I have experienced love with a sensitive, caring man. I will never forget him and the time we spent inside these walls, our talks, our kisses, our love-making; it will never leave my memory. I will continue to be by his side. For I have loved, and forever will be in love with Atemu.
