Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, definitely not. Random title is random.

Sun Glare

My blue eyes prickle with tears, tears brought forward from the intense pressure I've been forced under, I've accepted that I've been uncomfortable, even frightened of what may become of my life from this point on. My sketchy breaths, each one never fails to catch in my throat, they get shorter and shorter as those magnificent, majestic doors I dread so much get closer and closer. My untrustworthy legs, they are numb with the weight - the expectations - of a nation and a half, my approach is unaided by my knees being knobbly and knotted due to the dress I'm wearing, each step I make proving to be a challenge. My reluctance to continue walking would seem abundant and pathetic to an onlooker, every few meters I'd try to come to a halt by gripping my escort's arm, my action a silent plea, but I do so with good reason.

You see, my heart truly isn't in this.

It never was, not once, and my dilemma was all courtesy of my Father. I tried so desperately to change his mind, but Father wasn't going to give me a choice in the matter. He had announced it to the people of Athens before I'd known myself, without any confrontation with me at all. He said I was the only hope in saving his empire, crushing the Romans. When I opposed his demand, told him I didn't want to do such a thing, I found myself almost cowering under his shadow. Never before had he been so mad, so outraged, so vile. Mother, she was accustomed to agree with Father so she could only solemnly stand back and watched it unfold. She watched as Father called me a coward, he cursed my name to the Greek Gods and said he was ashamed that I was of his blood.

"No isn't an answer I can take with graceful acceptance! You will be a disgrace, a spineless coward if you don't go through with this. The whole country will think this of you. The commoners on the streets will utter your name with pure hatred whenever all has been taken from them, you'll be solely to blame, the lone reason they have little property, no riches, a stolen identity. A real heiress to my thrown would do as she was told and embrace the sacrifice she was about to make for an empire that will one day be under her rule. If you decline this marriage then you should never have been born of my blood."

I pointed out that if I married someone of a higher status and with more power than me then my future rule over Fathers empire would no longer be determined. He told me he knew this, then revealed that Mother was expecting a child. I realised then and there that they were expecting the Gods to gift them with the son they had always wanted and if so, then I would end up being irrelevant.

So I finally accepted the 'request' and left, I'd be hated by everyone if I didn't do this. I thought of the people and what would happen to them if the Romans weren't stopped, this man I had dismally accepted to marry could help them, save them even. Still, what was to say he wouldn't keep his word? More than anything, I knew it was going to be torture sacrificing my freedom, I had always believed that I would fall in love at my own will but here I was readying myself to marry a stranger, to be a wife to a man that wasn't of my origin and to live in a country that was not my home, all because of a fight for dominance, land, resources, between two countries.

At the reefs, I hugged Mother tightly while tears ran down both our faces, she murmured apologies and begged me for forgiveness, promised me that she'd see me again someday no matter how long it took, told me she'd force father to allow my husband-to-be and I to visit the palace whenever we wanted. She found it hard to let me go, she really did have my best interests at heart. My Father and I, we exchanged mutual nods and that was all, I could have swore I saw some sort of emotion in his eyes, whatever it was, I couldn't tell what.

The civilians had gathered in their thousands and cheered as I climbed on the ship while having one last look at the beautiful Grecian landscape, one last savoury look at my home. The ship set sail not long after, hundreds of guards and royal defences escorting me every step of the way. I felt like I was suffocating, like my life was ending.

Now, I find myself thousands of miles away, across raging, aqua seas and in the middle of foreign, golden sands.

Egypt.

I had been offered to this empire's Pharaoh in return for their military supplies and help against the Emperor of Rome. I dreaded the man, this 'Pharaoh'. I'd heard stories involving the moral nature of these kings. Unmerciful. Hard-lined. Unforgiving. Power-hungry. That they could be cruel... and I had agreed to marry a man I had never met, what was worse; I didn't have a clue in all of the Grecian Gods' created Hell whether or not he possessed any of these worrying traits. I begged the Gods that he wouldn't, prayed to them every night since this requested, cursed marriage.

By the time I reached the Throne room doors, I had a hand firmly pressed on my stomach, resisting every urge to vomit. However, the tears had just began rolling down my cheeks. Flowing like rivers of the edge of my face, yet so silent.

Many guards hauled the mighty stone slab doors open, they grunted furiously as the rocks shifted slowly and with every inch, they revealed a fraction the room behind those doors, I continued to get more frightened, unnerved eyes settled on the widening gap.

I'd always been a curious girl, open to many views, broad-mined, but in this situation I was blind to all other possible outcomes, I was convinced it wouldn't be a happy ending; this man, this Pharaoh, he'd be everything that would make my life a misery, he'd go against all the odds. He'd hate me. I'd hate him. I'd be powerless, a woman with no say. All I'd be seen as was a reparation payment from the Greeks, nothing more, possibly far less, for my value among these baked, bare, desolate sands had not been determined yet.

My positivity was stumped, absolutely floored. With my heart pounding, I turned to my escort and begged once again, "Please, anything, but not this. Anything but this. I can't do it." I whispered the words fearfully in fluent Egyptian, having been taught the language along with three others during my studies.

He only shook his head of spice brown hair, a frown forming on his lips. "As much as I admire you for trying my Princess, your father will have my head if I arrive back in Greece with you at my side. You've been brought here to stay here." And then he took my shoulders and gently spun me to face the door, I gasped as the open entrance revealed the whole room. The Throne room, the throne positioned at the farthest end of the beautiful vista and in that throne, sat the Pharaoh himself, I could see the blurred vision of colour, this room, it was actually physical, this was truly happening. My knees would have buckled below me if I hadn't had found the strength from somewhere to stand. I continually told myself that this was it, my life would soon become a living hell. I was due to wed this man at the end of the month whether I wanted to or not, whether I liked him or not, whether he would end up loving me or not, whether I'd end up loving him...

"Walk, Princess." The voice scared me out of my skin. Looking to the side of me, I found a Priest with short sandy-brown hair, dressed in the richest, cleanest and bluest of fabrics, demanding me sternly that I should do this. He, for a simple priest, looked far too majestic. "I am Highpriest Seto," he introduced regally before pressing on with what he really wanted to say. "Our King has been awaiting your arrival. A mutual word of advice, you must address him as 'Pharaoh' since you are a citizen of a foreign land. Therefore he is not your king. And so this is applied in all situations until you are both wed. Understood?"

I nod blatantly, bleary eyed, really wanting to spin and sprint out that door, not caring for how uncivilised I'd look.

"And Princess," he adds, his stern face relaxing as his deep-sea blues eyes light up a little, a small smile breaking onto his lips. "Please cheer up, why don't you?" he says in a more friendly, surprisingly warm manor trying to relieve some of the tension, I feel his hand slip around my limp wrist and he lifts my arm into his, linking them. "You look faint, which isn't a surprise. I'm going to support you on your journey to the throne just encase you topple over."

"Uh-huh." I choke out in assent, struggling to force a dreary smile onto my sun-dried, hacked lips, while raising my free honey coloured hand to wipe away the tears running down my colour drained cheeks.

He leans in closer and says in a hushed tone, "Our king, he really isn't your stereotypical Pharaoh, I don't want you worrying yourself more than you have to. You two are bound to hit it off, besides..." he paused as I turned to look at him clearly for the first time, it was shocking how piercingly blue his eyes were, but they were swirling with late youth and warmth all the same. "He's not exactly what you'd call demanding since he's the youngest Pharaoh to take the throne so far - at only eighteen, so our King is still learning, he has yet to be corrupted by his power and wealth and you, young Princess, could be the woman to keep him from that typical fate so often scribed in the scriptures, you have the duty of keeping him loyal to his court, his people and to you yourself. I'm certain a beautiful woman such as yourself is more than capable of that. Now good luck with your life endeavours, our future Queen."

The priests words were somewhat slightly comforting, he himself seemed very nice, and it made this acceptance more bearable knowing that within these walls at least one person believed in me.

And so I begin my journey to the mighty throne, the chair and the person in it getting bigger with every unstable step I took, getting clearer.

The regal man upon it became a man only some could fabricate in their dreams, he respected every word I said and even with our differences, he loved every part of me. The tables turned in no one's favour, because even though I was inclined to stay with him for the sake of a nation, he became compelled to making me happy, he couldn't stand seeing me hurt or sad, for he was in love.

And so was I.

I was just cleaning out my old files on my computer and I came across this, the only piece of writing I wrote in first person, and it's terrible, I wrote it around 3 years ago when I was fifteen so... Yeah. I'm still terrible at writing. But I especially hate writing in first person, I just don't know, it always make me feel very self-centred and... yeah. That.

What was the plot even about? I can barely remember. I think I was trying to express Anzu's feeling's towards an arranged marriage to Pharaoh Atemu (or Princess Teana, Princess Tea, you can decide over what to call her since her name isn't actually mentioned in the fic). I was going to end up deleting it anyway, but then decided to post it here since... well... it's really the only oneshot I've ever managed to finish. Everything's crap, but hey, what harm will posting it here do?

Have a lovely day x ~ Cetlic-Redhead