Disclaimer: Royally not mine.
A/N: I set a challenge on Livejournal: if you would provide me with a piece of fanart, I would write a short ficlet for/based on it. Silsmile requested something for tabulae (dot) deviantart (dot) com (slash) gallery (slash question mark) offset (equals sign) 48 (hash slash) d2urmu0.
Reunited
© Scribbler, December 2011.
Atem's court genuflected as he stepped over the threshold. After millennia apart, they had finally recovered their lost Pharaoh. He acknowledged them with a nod befitting royalty, even as his heart shattered like a commoner's at the door closing behind him. That one sound signified the end of the life he had built with Yuugi and his friends; they would go on living without him while he went back to the grave he should have been in all along. What would their lives be like? Would they grow up the way he hoped? Would they find happiness, have children, leave their marks on the world? He didn't know. It hurt to think about.
Priest Seto rose, though he kept his head low. "Sire," he said.
Something about the way he said it was telling. Atem knew what he was asking with that one word. He put out a hand and laid it on his faithful servant – and cousin. He should never forget that they were related by blood and spirit both. "There is nothing to forgive, Seto. What is past is past. We have had a thousand lifetimes to reflect on our actions. I think we have both earned some peace now."
Seto raised his gaze. The gratitude shining in his eyes was so unlike the Seto Kaiba left behind in the mortal world that it actually made Atem stumble.
"I am glad to see that you grew into the man I hoped you would."
He froze. Slowly, he turned his head to see the man behind him. He hadn't heard that voice in … far longer than anyone should. Long before he died in Egypt, he felt like he had spent a mortal lifetime wishing he could hear some of that voice's gentle advice again.
"F … Father?"
Akhenamkhanen opened his arms, not as a king, but as a father; and suddenly Atem was not a king either, or a prince, or a gaming idol, or anything except a little boy taking his first hesitant steps into arms that promised to always catch him.
"Welcome home, son," Akhenamkhanen whispered into his hair. "You have been greatly missed."
Fin.