Unraveling the Braid
*Author's Note: A few warnings. First, the two prologues to this story are very short, but I feel they work better being separate than meshed with other chapters. Also, the first one imitates a scene from the show, but this is just to give it a time-frame.
Secondly, this fic is slightly AU from pretty much everything -- it contains information that contradicts the show, the manga, and even history. This isn't out of ignorance -- I did months of study before beginning to write this -- but a feeling that it was necessary for the plot. If you require strict accuracy, I suggest you look elsewhere.
Thirdly, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, nor do I wish to, and I use its characters and plot with the utmost respect for its creators. However, this story is mine, so please do not use it without my permission.
Fourthly, I stole the chapter titles from Yu-Gi-Oh! song translations, so please credit the great translators of animelyrics.com -- except for quotes from Ashita Moshi Kimi ga Kowaretemo. I found the non-animelyrics version first, and still prefer it.
Finally, I should thank Sasha Janre-Ishtar and PokeDigiManiac for their pre-reading and support. You guys were great!
With that said and done, I now leave you to read the story itself -- assuming you haven't started to already. I hope you like it!*
~Prologue One: If you were to break~
Yugi smiled as he watched Kaiba turn and walk away. Seeing him reunited with his brother gave him a vicarious thrill -- even as it increased his longing to see his grandfather again. To know that he was safe.
//You did it. You saved everyone, Yugi.//
Yugi jumped at the sudden intrusion of his other's comment, then blushed. 'I'm jumping at shadows,' he rebuked himself, before turning his smile on the spirit. /We both did! I couldn't have done it without you./ The other just inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. /So... So you think that... that he really is alright, then?/
The spirit, too, was startled, surprised by Yugi's trust in him. At how he begged for reassurance. But then, Yugi gave his trust freely to everyone... Even realizing this, the spirit was honored, and hoped that he never did anything to break it. This was already a second chance he hadn't expected to get, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. //I'm certain of it, Yugi. He's probably thinking of you, waiting for you, right now.//
Yugi smiled up at him, his eyes once again bright. /Thank you!/ He blushed self-consciously. /You've done so much for me, and I don't even know your name./
//I've been called many things, through the ages. Pharaoh, Yugioh...// He smiled back at Yugi. //But you can call me "Yami."//
/"Yami?"/ Yugi frowned. /That doesn't exactly seem cheerful.../
Yami smiled more broadly, letting his voice fade from Yugi's mind. //Just think of me as your shadow...//
~Prologue Two: Talking about running~
The final chord throbbed mournfully through the air, mixing with its echoes to create a sound that barely avoided being a dirge. The boy plucked the last few notes of the song again, aching for that moment of closure and release that comes with the end of a tune -- but to no avail. It needed the tension of the chords that had come before it to feel right. And he knew this, but he couldn't help trying. He sighed and cradled his lyre gently on his lap, stroking the sides like a good-luck charm.
For he needed all the luck he could get. It was not that he was so badly off, but everyone's lives held dangers and he was as aware of his own as anybody else. Being born the second son of the Pharaoh had the upside of wealth, education, security, and a host of other things. But his older brother was much older and poised to take on a joint leadership with their father, the king. This meant he had never had to learn all the tediums that came with running a country, hadn't been hounded practically from birth by a "shadow court" of other kids who would become advisors to the young king, hadn't had to show off for the public... but it did mean that he was potential competition for the throne none-the-less, something that would make the palace a place to be avoided once his brother returned from his smaller ruling in Memphis to be crowned.
Still, thought the boy philosophically, brothers don't generally assassinate brothers for no reason. He could always explain to Tuthmosis that he wasn't interested in the crown, that he would be happy to disappear along the Nile with his lyre, and his flute...
...but who would believe that he didn't want to be king?
He scrubbed at his short, coarse hair with his hands, clamping the lyre between his knees so that it wouldn't fall. His hair had only recently been freed from its ponytail, and it still felt odd. It was now closely cropped, black and curly, a few shades darker than even his skin... except at the front, where it seemed straighter and was a bright yellow, almost beyond blonde. Light hair was unusual in his country, he knew, but he hoped this was a good omen. After all, his father had raised the ancient god of the sundisk to new prominence shortly before his birth, and here he was with golden hair. That had to mean something.
But whatever it meant, it itched. He was glad to be old enough to be rid of the sidelock that indicated youth, but he wasn't sure that it wasn't more comfortable.
The boy sighed again, and was beginning to pluck out a new tune on his lyre when he was interrupted by the swish-flip-flop of sandals on the stone floor of the corridor. A servant. Back here, in this practically desolate section of the palace?
The servant stopped at his doorway, as he'd expected. After a brief bow -- as much as a prince of the house deserved from a busy royal messenger -- he spoke. "I bear a summons for Prince Amenhotep from the great king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Amenhotep the Third..."
