When We Were Kings - by Maru-chan
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Disclaimer - Roses are red, violets are blue; I no own, so you no sue.
This fic is sort of the prologue to the flash backs in "The Past is Prologue". Set in ancient Egypt, it's the events that led to the final confrontation between Kaiba and Yami. A fair warning: this is PG-13 for language and shonen ai (malexmale) between some of the characters. Will all homophobes please exit and be polite enough not to flame?
To those that stay, please enjoy the fic and (please) review.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prologue
The sun had set many hours before, but Thebes, City of Life, was an oasis of light in the darkness. Citizens strolled without fear beneath the watch of the city guard, and every street was brightly lit with torches and lamps. And no place in the city shone more than Pharaoh's palace, like a sparkling jewel set in gold.
Within the palace, lamps of scented oil burned, their light setting the little alabaster statues of the gods aglow. Government scribes, soldiers, and servants stepped quietly in the shadow of walls and columns carved with the glory of Egypt. In chambers with gilded walls, the silk and jewel decked aristocracy feasted and was entertained by acrobats and magicians.
Yet in all the splendor and life in the palace, there was a distinct absence of life - or, rather, of certain lives. The true peers of the realm, including Pharaoh himself, were not among those happy revelers. But one look out into Pharaoh's private gardens, which, alone in all the city, were dim and shadowy, would have found the group escaping into the dark night beyond.
Distinctive tricolor-ed hair bound in a simple turban, and royal silks and jewels traded for plain linen and a single brass pendent, Pharaoh Yamen lead the way into the dark out skirts of the city, the Shadows. Behind him, similarly dressed in plain linen kilts and wraps, trailed the highest members of his court, his best friends, and, on nights like tonight, his accomplices.
Seti, Pharaoh's Chief Vizier, cursed softly as he leaped from the wall of Pharaoh's gardens. He really didn't enjoy these jaunts into the city that much, and wouldn't go if it wasn't for Yamen. He usually found himself doing many unusual things for Yamen.
Brushing dark brown hair out of his sapphire eyes as he landed, Seti realized that only Jahra, High General of Egypt, was still in the alley, sun-blond hair flopping into his eyes as he bent to retie his sandals. ""Where are the others?"
Jahra looked up, no happier than Seti that Yamen had asked him to stay behind and wait. "His Highness," Seti winced at Jahra's mocking tone, "took the others ahead to the God's Eye. He made me wait for you, slow-poke."
His sandals tied, Jahra stood, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and trotted down the alley way. "Are you coming or not?"
Seti repressed the urge to strangle the annoying general, if only because he could never find his way through the rat warren that was the Shadows. Quickly catching up to Jahra, Seti settled into a steady trot, heading every deeper into the dark streets and alleys that were home to the worst thieves, assassins, prostitutes -
" - And the best beer in the city!"
Some hours earlier, Seti and Jahra had arrived at the God's Eye, the most reputable disreputable tavern in the Shadows, and joined Yami at a small table near the bar. Shortly after they were joined by Hemaka, High Priest of Ra, easily the most undistinguishable member of their group, except for his insistence in sweeping his dark brown hair forward into a point.
Trailing behind him, bearing a heavy pitcher of beer in one hand and clutching a set of tumblers in the other, was Asru, Pharaoh's Chief Scribe, her cobalt eyes narrowed in only-half mocking anger. "I could use a little help here, guys."
Laughing, Yamen stood, reaching across Seti to accept the unwieldy pitcher. "Here, Asru, not all of us are as absent minded as Hemaka." Seti blushed deep red as Yamen practically laid himself across his lap, and then quickly sat back, into the shadow before the others could notice.
Asru sat down, managing to beam at Yamen and scowl at the rest of the boys simultaneously. "Thanks Yami, at least some people don't forget themselves completely when they're away from home." Hemaka and Jahra pulled mocking faces at Asru, which melted lightning fast into angelic innocence when she darted her eyes at them.
Yamen and Seti watched this exchange with passive faces, calmly pouring their drinks from the pitcher before it was drained by Hemaka and Jahra. As he handed Seti his tumbler, Yamen locked eyes with him, instantly, as always, reading Seti's thoughts in his gaze.
It had always been that way with them, always that strange link between them; it was one of the reasons they had always been the best of friends. A slow smile crept onto their faces, expressions mirroring each other, eyes sparkling till they could hold back no longer - and burst into loud laughter.
Their friends turned amused looks on them - they were used to such out burst, the knowing looks, and whole conversations in a minute. For Hemaka and Jahra, however, the status of their dry tumblers was of more concern, and they quickly did their own double act by leaping simultaneously across the table and grasping for the pitcher.
Despite obvious intentions, what they managed to do was over turn the table and land tangled together with Seti and Yamen in a puddle of beer. Amid the laughter of the taverns other patrons, Asru sighed, then joined in as she watched a bemused Yamen restrain a frantic Jahra from slurping beer off the floor.
"Why do all our nights out start like this?"
In the wee hours of the morning, a very drunk Asru, a slightly less drunk Hemaka and Jahra, and a mostly sober Seti and Yamen set out from the God's Eye, weaving tipsily through the Shadows towards the palace. Asru tripped giddily in the lead, brown hair flying in all directions as she tripped down the street. Right behind her, Jahra and Hemaka shambled along, serenading the Shadows' denizens with the lewdest songs they knew.
Trailing along behind their exuberant friends, Yamen and Seti walked with the too careful steadiness of people not quite drunk enough to shamble or trip. Yamen was happily tired, as always after their "nights on the town". He leaned companionable against Seti, especially glad to be with him.
//It always ends up being just the two of us, doesn't it? And it is always the best part of the night. //
Seti was more than glad to be with Yamen; for these few moments alone with the handsome Pharaoh, he'd face worse than Jahra and Hamaka's yowling. He was also he'd kept from drinking too much tonight, because having Yamen so close was giving him very strange ideas. Seti always enjoyed being near Yamen, but lately he'd found himself noticing new things about his best friend.
Yamen stopped suddenly, head tilted back, body tense. He had paused in front of an alley, one of the dozens of dank holes in the wall that slashed the Shadows. "Seti, did you hear that?"
Seti shook his head, "no" and cleared those strange thoughts from his mind as he turned, cocking his ears towards the alley and straining his hearing. In the Shadows, any noise could mean an attack, and zoning out could cost you your life.
Yamen stepped back, away from the opening to the alley. He turned his face back to Seti, shaking his head, setting the turban askew, and allowing a few blond-red-black spikes to escape and flop into his ruby eyes. "I guess it was nothing."
Seti reached out to brush the soft strands out of Yamen's face, when the young Pharaoh jerked his head up. "There it is again!" He turned round, and dashed into the alley without looking back, rushing towards the origin of the soft sobs and whimpers that even Seti could hear now.
Seti followed Yamen into the dark alley, nose wrinkling at the sour fetid smell that rose up around him. He supposed he could just add "running through stinking alley" to the list of things he did for Yamen. Seti lost sight of the young Pharaoh as he ducked into a door way, the source of the soft cries.
"Are you alright, little one?"
A small boy lay huddled on the floor, weeping softly, dressed in dirty rags. Yamen bent over, gently laying his hand on the other's shoulder. Suddenly, the boy jerked their head up, and Yamen found himself staring into the most sorrowful amethyst eyes imaginable.
Without thinking about anything except the pain in the other boy's eyes, Yamen knelt on the floor and took him into his arms, gently rubbing the smaller one's thin back. Seti watched from the doorway, his face contorted in a scowl as he watched Yamen hug the other boy to him, tenderly soothing his cries.
As the boy's crying subsided, Yamen gently eased away, a slight shiver moving along his spine as he took in the boy's remarkable resemblance to him. Behind him, he heard Seti gasp as he, too, noticed the eerie similarity between the Pharaoh and the peasant boy.
Indeed, except for a fragility that contrasted sharply with Yamen's confident ease, the boy that knelt on before them might pass for the Pharaoh's twin. But at the moment, Yamen was more concerned about the pain and anguish in the boy's face. "Little one, why are you weeping?"
The younger boy wiped his tear stained cheeks with a grubby hand. "M-my g-grandfather died -" He managed to reply, but then his voice was choked by sobs. "I -I h-h-have no pl-place to go -" He broke down completely once more, collapsing into Yamen's arms as his thin body shook with tears.
Yamen sighed, lifting his head to look at Seti. Their eyes locked, and Seti shook his head, "no", but the Pharaoh only narrowed his eyes defiantly before truing back to the small boy. Cupping his chin in one hand, Yamen lifted the boy's head till their eyes met. There was a familiar shiver between them, one Yamen had only ever before experience from Seti.
//Its like I know him . . . but how . . . ?//
Pushing the question from his mind, Yamen released the boy's chin, but kept their eyes locked. "What is your name, little one?" The boy swallowed, blinking away tears. His voice was no longer broken by sobs, but still soft and shaky. "It's Yumagi, b-but grandfather always c-called me Yugi."
Pharaoh smiled softly, dropping his rich mellow voice to a whisper. "Yugi, would you like to come and stay with me?" He almost laughed at the dumbstruck expression on the small one's face. Yugi's mouth open and closed several times, but he could make no reply but to nod his head 'yes" emphatically.
"Let's go home then."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Disclaimer - Roses are red, violets are blue; I no own, so you no sue.
This fic is sort of the prologue to the flash backs in "The Past is Prologue". Set in ancient Egypt, it's the events that led to the final confrontation between Kaiba and Yami. A fair warning: this is PG-13 for language and shonen ai (malexmale) between some of the characters. Will all homophobes please exit and be polite enough not to flame?
To those that stay, please enjoy the fic and (please) review.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prologue
The sun had set many hours before, but Thebes, City of Life, was an oasis of light in the darkness. Citizens strolled without fear beneath the watch of the city guard, and every street was brightly lit with torches and lamps. And no place in the city shone more than Pharaoh's palace, like a sparkling jewel set in gold.
Within the palace, lamps of scented oil burned, their light setting the little alabaster statues of the gods aglow. Government scribes, soldiers, and servants stepped quietly in the shadow of walls and columns carved with the glory of Egypt. In chambers with gilded walls, the silk and jewel decked aristocracy feasted and was entertained by acrobats and magicians.
Yet in all the splendor and life in the palace, there was a distinct absence of life - or, rather, of certain lives. The true peers of the realm, including Pharaoh himself, were not among those happy revelers. But one look out into Pharaoh's private gardens, which, alone in all the city, were dim and shadowy, would have found the group escaping into the dark night beyond.
Distinctive tricolor-ed hair bound in a simple turban, and royal silks and jewels traded for plain linen and a single brass pendent, Pharaoh Yamen lead the way into the dark out skirts of the city, the Shadows. Behind him, similarly dressed in plain linen kilts and wraps, trailed the highest members of his court, his best friends, and, on nights like tonight, his accomplices.
Seti, Pharaoh's Chief Vizier, cursed softly as he leaped from the wall of Pharaoh's gardens. He really didn't enjoy these jaunts into the city that much, and wouldn't go if it wasn't for Yamen. He usually found himself doing many unusual things for Yamen.
Brushing dark brown hair out of his sapphire eyes as he landed, Seti realized that only Jahra, High General of Egypt, was still in the alley, sun-blond hair flopping into his eyes as he bent to retie his sandals. ""Where are the others?"
Jahra looked up, no happier than Seti that Yamen had asked him to stay behind and wait. "His Highness," Seti winced at Jahra's mocking tone, "took the others ahead to the God's Eye. He made me wait for you, slow-poke."
His sandals tied, Jahra stood, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and trotted down the alley way. "Are you coming or not?"
Seti repressed the urge to strangle the annoying general, if only because he could never find his way through the rat warren that was the Shadows. Quickly catching up to Jahra, Seti settled into a steady trot, heading every deeper into the dark streets and alleys that were home to the worst thieves, assassins, prostitutes -
" - And the best beer in the city!"
Some hours earlier, Seti and Jahra had arrived at the God's Eye, the most reputable disreputable tavern in the Shadows, and joined Yami at a small table near the bar. Shortly after they were joined by Hemaka, High Priest of Ra, easily the most undistinguishable member of their group, except for his insistence in sweeping his dark brown hair forward into a point.
Trailing behind him, bearing a heavy pitcher of beer in one hand and clutching a set of tumblers in the other, was Asru, Pharaoh's Chief Scribe, her cobalt eyes narrowed in only-half mocking anger. "I could use a little help here, guys."
Laughing, Yamen stood, reaching across Seti to accept the unwieldy pitcher. "Here, Asru, not all of us are as absent minded as Hemaka." Seti blushed deep red as Yamen practically laid himself across his lap, and then quickly sat back, into the shadow before the others could notice.
Asru sat down, managing to beam at Yamen and scowl at the rest of the boys simultaneously. "Thanks Yami, at least some people don't forget themselves completely when they're away from home." Hemaka and Jahra pulled mocking faces at Asru, which melted lightning fast into angelic innocence when she darted her eyes at them.
Yamen and Seti watched this exchange with passive faces, calmly pouring their drinks from the pitcher before it was drained by Hemaka and Jahra. As he handed Seti his tumbler, Yamen locked eyes with him, instantly, as always, reading Seti's thoughts in his gaze.
It had always been that way with them, always that strange link between them; it was one of the reasons they had always been the best of friends. A slow smile crept onto their faces, expressions mirroring each other, eyes sparkling till they could hold back no longer - and burst into loud laughter.
Their friends turned amused looks on them - they were used to such out burst, the knowing looks, and whole conversations in a minute. For Hemaka and Jahra, however, the status of their dry tumblers was of more concern, and they quickly did their own double act by leaping simultaneously across the table and grasping for the pitcher.
Despite obvious intentions, what they managed to do was over turn the table and land tangled together with Seti and Yamen in a puddle of beer. Amid the laughter of the taverns other patrons, Asru sighed, then joined in as she watched a bemused Yamen restrain a frantic Jahra from slurping beer off the floor.
"Why do all our nights out start like this?"
In the wee hours of the morning, a very drunk Asru, a slightly less drunk Hemaka and Jahra, and a mostly sober Seti and Yamen set out from the God's Eye, weaving tipsily through the Shadows towards the palace. Asru tripped giddily in the lead, brown hair flying in all directions as she tripped down the street. Right behind her, Jahra and Hemaka shambled along, serenading the Shadows' denizens with the lewdest songs they knew.
Trailing along behind their exuberant friends, Yamen and Seti walked with the too careful steadiness of people not quite drunk enough to shamble or trip. Yamen was happily tired, as always after their "nights on the town". He leaned companionable against Seti, especially glad to be with him.
//It always ends up being just the two of us, doesn't it? And it is always the best part of the night. //
Seti was more than glad to be with Yamen; for these few moments alone with the handsome Pharaoh, he'd face worse than Jahra and Hamaka's yowling. He was also he'd kept from drinking too much tonight, because having Yamen so close was giving him very strange ideas. Seti always enjoyed being near Yamen, but lately he'd found himself noticing new things about his best friend.
Yamen stopped suddenly, head tilted back, body tense. He had paused in front of an alley, one of the dozens of dank holes in the wall that slashed the Shadows. "Seti, did you hear that?"
Seti shook his head, "no" and cleared those strange thoughts from his mind as he turned, cocking his ears towards the alley and straining his hearing. In the Shadows, any noise could mean an attack, and zoning out could cost you your life.
Yamen stepped back, away from the opening to the alley. He turned his face back to Seti, shaking his head, setting the turban askew, and allowing a few blond-red-black spikes to escape and flop into his ruby eyes. "I guess it was nothing."
Seti reached out to brush the soft strands out of Yamen's face, when the young Pharaoh jerked his head up. "There it is again!" He turned round, and dashed into the alley without looking back, rushing towards the origin of the soft sobs and whimpers that even Seti could hear now.
Seti followed Yamen into the dark alley, nose wrinkling at the sour fetid smell that rose up around him. He supposed he could just add "running through stinking alley" to the list of things he did for Yamen. Seti lost sight of the young Pharaoh as he ducked into a door way, the source of the soft cries.
"Are you alright, little one?"
A small boy lay huddled on the floor, weeping softly, dressed in dirty rags. Yamen bent over, gently laying his hand on the other's shoulder. Suddenly, the boy jerked their head up, and Yamen found himself staring into the most sorrowful amethyst eyes imaginable.
Without thinking about anything except the pain in the other boy's eyes, Yamen knelt on the floor and took him into his arms, gently rubbing the smaller one's thin back. Seti watched from the doorway, his face contorted in a scowl as he watched Yamen hug the other boy to him, tenderly soothing his cries.
As the boy's crying subsided, Yamen gently eased away, a slight shiver moving along his spine as he took in the boy's remarkable resemblance to him. Behind him, he heard Seti gasp as he, too, noticed the eerie similarity between the Pharaoh and the peasant boy.
Indeed, except for a fragility that contrasted sharply with Yamen's confident ease, the boy that knelt on before them might pass for the Pharaoh's twin. But at the moment, Yamen was more concerned about the pain and anguish in the boy's face. "Little one, why are you weeping?"
The younger boy wiped his tear stained cheeks with a grubby hand. "M-my g-grandfather died -" He managed to reply, but then his voice was choked by sobs. "I -I h-h-have no pl-place to go -" He broke down completely once more, collapsing into Yamen's arms as his thin body shook with tears.
Yamen sighed, lifting his head to look at Seti. Their eyes locked, and Seti shook his head, "no", but the Pharaoh only narrowed his eyes defiantly before truing back to the small boy. Cupping his chin in one hand, Yamen lifted the boy's head till their eyes met. There was a familiar shiver between them, one Yamen had only ever before experience from Seti.
//Its like I know him . . . but how . . . ?//
Pushing the question from his mind, Yamen released the boy's chin, but kept their eyes locked. "What is your name, little one?" The boy swallowed, blinking away tears. His voice was no longer broken by sobs, but still soft and shaky. "It's Yumagi, b-but grandfather always c-called me Yugi."
Pharaoh smiled softly, dropping his rich mellow voice to a whisper. "Yugi, would you like to come and stay with me?" He almost laughed at the dumbstruck expression on the small one's face. Yugi's mouth open and closed several times, but he could make no reply but to nod his head 'yes" emphatically.
"Let's go home then."