Sleeping Victim & Restless Thief
"My Lord, there's not much more I can do for her. I've set the broken bones and she's not bleeding internally, which is a miracle. The rest is up to her." The old doctor looked over at his patient and shook his head. "What could bring someone to do something like that." He wondered aloud as he walked away.
Bakura sighed and leaned back in his chair. Normally, he would be content to sit in this room, where all of his treasures were held, and revel in the fact he'd stolen everything there.
Now though, all he wanted to do was sit in the very next room. It was un-extraordinary, with grey stone walls, a plain bed and a few inexpensive bits of furniture, but it wasn't the room that drew him so strongly. It was the inhabitant, the young, broken girl he'd brought back only an hour or so earlier.
She couldn't have been more than one or two years younger than Bakura, but she looked so small and fragile; like glass.
With nine ribs, her right ankle and left wrist broken, along with her jaw, the image of a sheepskin sack filled with shards of crystal came to Bakura's mind, causing him to get up and start pacing.
Not an hour later, he stepped out of his room and peeked in on the girl. Her room was finally empty of the medical team and peaceful at last. He heard her whimper softly and stepped in, walking toward her slowly.
She'd been bathed and redressed in what looked suspiciously like some of his personal wardrobe. The dirt and blood had been removed from her face, which made the bruising even more obvious. He reached out a tentative hand and touched her cheek softly.
He'd never seen anyone like her before. Her skin that remained unmarked was the color of cream, giving her a sort of glow in the dim room. Her hair was also a certain rarity, being the color of spun gold.
Bakura sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as she slept, wishing she'd wake up and tell him who she was. It was very intriguing to find someone that looked as she did in the middle of the desert, beaten and left for dead. Surely, she had value to someone.
He stayed there for what seemed like mere minutes to him, until someone came in to bring her water.
"She should drink this." the boy said timidly, holding out a goblet of water. Bakura took it and sniffed it, noting the slight scent it had.
"What's in this?" he questioned the frightened boy.
"It's a herb my family used. It's supposed to make the healing go faster." he explained, a small smile breaking onto his face. Bakura nodded and lifted the girl's head up so she could drink.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked as he fed her small sips of water.
"Asa, sir." he replied.
"Asa." He tried the name and nodded. "A good name." He beckoned for the child to come closer.
"I want to watch over her for me, alright?" Asa's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
"Me sir? But, I'm just a servant child." Bakura nodded.
"Exactly. You hold no dark desires that this girl could fulfill. She is safer with you than any of the grown men here." Bakura reached over and ruffled the boy's shaggy black hair. "And besides, you're much less intimidating for someone to wake up to." he said with a smirk.
With that, he got up and went to wander the halls of his underground palace, leaving the girl and Asa alone.
"Hello miss. I know you're asleep, but I don't really get to talk to anyone. My name's Asa." the boy said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched her for a long while. She looked like she was dead, except for the slight but steady rise and fall of her chest.
He reached out and touched her hair, fascinated by its color. Living in the Thief King's palace, he'd seen more than his share of gold over the past three years, but none of it compared to the beauty of this girl's hair. It shimmered wildly in the flickering candle light. It reminded him of being in Bakura's treasure room.
"Why would someone hurt you like this?" Asa asked quietly, propping her head up to give her more water.
Meanwhile, in the darkness of his own bedroom, Bakura was unable to sleep. He'd been riding for the past two days and was exhausted, but sleep eluded him.
"Damn girl." he growled. "She just had to be there, half dead and helpless." He covered his face with a hand, sighing. It annoyed him to no end that the infamous Thief King held such compassion for the abused. What was worse, he couldn't get her face out of his head.
What had she done to invoke such a wrathful punishment? She wasn't a slave, which made it all the more confusing. Perhaps a concubine? That would make sense. She'd obviously lived an easy life before now, having no calluses on her hands or feet. And she was far more pale than he'd ever seen, suggesting that she wasn't allowed into the sun often. All of his questions would have to wait though, and he hated waiting.
Edited: 8/21/2012
A/N: I didn't do much to this chapter either. Expect slightly more drastic changes in the future.
