Birth of a King
Summary: "You destroyed my village and took me away from my family! I can never be whole again, and for that, I will never forgive you." His fate sealed from the start, his life was nothing more than an endless sea of rage and revenge... or was it?
Rated: T
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Paradocs: Still amazed that I've made it this far. I'd like to personally thank all my reviewers, because they, unlike everyone else, tell me what they like. Now, if they could just tell me what's wrong...
Also, since everyone seems to like the addition of Malik to this story, I'm pretty impressed. This is actually my first attempt at writing Malik seriously, so I really would appreciate any critiquing of how I'm portraying him. Because, quite frankly, I'm just going off of what I know and what I percieve, which is probably different from what a lot of others think.
And, again, PLEASE WRITE COHESIVE REVIEWS. "Great story" or "This is really good, plz keep it up!" doesn't count as a review in my book, just another way of saying that you read it and felt compelled to give me an emotionless compliment.
I am completely guessing at the city they're in, because I wanted it to be the capital of Egypt; unfortunately, the anime fails at giving out city names, and every source I've read has a different answer. So I went with the one that came up the most. Yay me.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Bakura, or anything vaguely resembling this series. But someday... Someday.
Accomplices
Bakura stared in wonder at the scene that lay in front of him and Malik. The other boy watched him, looking more than slightly amused. He spread his hands wide open, gesturing at the busy plaza before them.
"Bakura, I give you, the marketplace of Thebes!" The tan youth announced triumphantly, if mockingly. He stole a glance at the boy beside him, and mentally frowned. Bakura was still gaping at the scene. Malik elbowed him in the side, earning him Bakura's full attention and a matching scowl of annoyance. "Didn't they have a market back home? Where're you from, anyway?" The blonde tilted his head to one side, searching for an answer.
Bakura ignored the question, turning back to watch the marketplace, with all its stalls and people and sounds. True, they hadn't had anything like this in Kul Elna; they'd just distributed the goods evenly, and whatever you made or grew was yours to keep, unless you wanted to trade it with a neighbor or give it away. Not that he was going to tell Malik that; he was still unsure of how trustworthy the Egyptian was. "What're the rules again?" He asked, still watching the flood of Egyptians and trying to block out the shouts of vendors selling their wares.
"It's simple. We each steal the most valuable item we can and bring it back to the house. You get caught, you're on your own." Malik narrowed his lilac eyes. "You sure you can do this?"
Bakura gave him a hard glare, blue-grey eyes like stone. It was an expression he'd copied from his father, something Nebibi had used to reprimend anyone who dared question his judgement. Malik smiled back, glad to have a determined opponent. It would make things interesting, but, if Bakura were to get caught while lost in his obvious-amazement... Well, that was his problem, wasn't it?
"Ready? See you back home, Baraka!" Malik waved mockingly as he darted off into the crowd, Bakura following behind him indignantly.
"It's Bakura! Bakura, you idiot!"
A matter of minutes later left the white-haired thief lost in a sea of bodies and booths. He kept his sleeved arms close beside his own body, feeling uncomfortably amidst all the noise and crowding that any other Egyptian might have taken for normal. Bakura kept his eyes busy, roving silently over the displayed items in each stall, mentally making notes on each. He'd been taught how to recognize quality years ago; that was all he looked for now, quality and things he wanted. His earliest lesson was forgotten in his urge to show Malik who was the better thief.
Jewelery. Too bright and gaudy for his liking, and, in his mind, hardly valuable. Only girls wore things like that; he was a boy, thank Set.
Next, a cloth merchant. Bakura let himself wander closer so he could see it. Instantly, he wished he hadn't. The clothes he sold were pretty enough, in bright colors, but they were poorly made, that was clear. Bakura wandered away from it, back into the crush of the crowd, feeling more than slightly irritated. Was there nothing of value in this marketplace?
A smell suddenly greeted his nostrils, one that was familiar and, yes, even painful to the would-be thief: the smell of fresh-baked bread. Bakura's stomach let out a grumble of protest. It wanted that bread, and it wasn't going to let its owner walk past it without lifting them a tasty treat to eat. Bakura winced as he felt a pang in his belly. Well, if he was that hungry...
Bakura shouldered his way through the crowd, following the scent to its source. The sight almost made him cry in delight.
It was a baker's stall, crowded with people buying breads and honey cakes and other treats. Bakura slunk closer, watching as the baker, a man with a gut that drooped over the top of his shenti, and his three apprentices handed the customers their goods and took their coppers. One loaf of bread, a largish thing that smelt almost heavenly to the boy's hunger-driven nose, was balanced perilously close to the edge of the booth. It was perfect, too perfect. How easy it would be, for him to take that bread and leave without being caught! Waiting for the baker and his boys to be busied with a fresh crowd of customers, Bakura reached for the bread, and, with the same deftness that had earned him more than one stolen goody back home, took the bread, hiding it in his sleeve. Then, without another word or action, he followed a gaggle of customers away and back into the crowd, heading towards what he remembered as the opening to the street he'd started from.
Oh, how clever that was done! Bakura congratulated himself as he felt the weight of the bread in his clothing. Bread was precious, something that was needed desperately to live! And, if the crowd and the smell were to be believed, this was good bread, something that would fill his belly for a while! And no one had caught him! He was safe, he was free, he was--
"Hey! Stop, thief!" A voice called out, loud and clear. Bakura spun around, eyes wide in panic as he clutched his prize to his chest, hidden though it was. Malik sprinted towards him, a gold chain in hand, and the two collided, landing on the ground.
"Idiot!" Malik hissed, getting to his feet as nimbly as a cat. The other boy stood up slower, slightly dazed by the impact. "Get out of my way!" The would-be thief snarled, trying to push past the heavier Bakura. His violet, kohl-lined eyes were narrowed in anger, but only fear reflected from their depths. He was afraid of being caught.
His attempts at getting around Bakura, and the rest of the crowd, stopped abruptly as a tall man, clad in a shenti and a headcovering, grabbed him by the wrist of the hand that held the chain. Malik looked up, and his eyes widened.
"You know what we do to thieves, boy?" The man barked, yanking the chain out of his hand roughly. "Well? Do you?" He pulled Malik's arm higher into the air. The boy winced.
"You... let 'em go?" He ventured, a weak attempt at humor. The man pulled harder at his arm, making him yelp at the pain.
"Thieves need hands to steal, don't they, boy?" The man said harshly. "We take the hand that did the stealing, that's what we do with thieves." He pulled a sword out of his belt, smiling, as if the prospect of lopping off the child's hand was more fun than he'd had in a while.
"Wait!" Bakura shoved himself in between Malik and the guard. "Please, sir, please!" He pleaded, trying his best to sound like a frantic child. "My brother didn't mean any harm! Honest!"
The man frowned, lowering the blade and Malik's arm by a fraction. "Your brother's a thief, boy!" He said angrily. "And thieves lose a hand for stealing! It's the law." He raised his sword again, but Bakura grabbed his hand, still managing to look frantic.
"But, sir! You must forgive him! He doesn't have the wits Khnum gave to a dog, he didn't know any better!" He ignored the dirty look Malik shot him; it was for the better, this excuse. "He meant no harm, and you got the chain back, didn't you?"
The guard hesitated again. "Well, I did..."
Bakura smiled, the small smile of an innocent child. "Then, please, let my brother go? I'll make sure he doesn't get into any more mischief, sir."
The man frowned, then sighed, releasing his grip on the arm. Malik rubbed his wrist where he'd held it. "Alright, kid. But, if I see him near this marketplace again--"
"Oh, you won't." Bakura nodded emphatically, keeping up his charade. "Never, ever again, I swear it by Horus, by the--"
The man held up a hand before Bakura could finish his oath. "Just keep him away. Next time I see him near any stalls, I'll take his hand off, then and there, you understand?" The boys both nodded vigorously. The man smiled. "Good. Now, get on home, before you get lost in this kheft-cursed mob, you hear?" His words were lost on the pair as they scrambled out of the crowd and back towards the house they'd been in before. They paused for breath once they were safely out of the marketplace's view. Bakura looked at Malik smugly.
"Well? Do I get anything for that?" He said, smirking. Malik smiled.
"Oh, not to worry," the boy said coolly, putting one hand behind his back. "You'll get something, alright." His smile widened as he revealed the hand. "See?" Malik slapped Bakura across the cheek, making the other boy stumble backwards in surprise.
"You idiot!" The blonde raged. "If you hadn't gotten in my way, I'd've gotten away!"
Bakura's eyes narrowed. "Well, if you weren't stupid enough to steal that from under that man's nose--"
"--I always do that!"
"Which makes you more of a fool than I thought," Bakura continued coldly. "What sort of a thief steals when he can be caught just as easily?"
Malik glared at him through his black-lined eyes. "The sort of thief who actually steals." He said icily, an obvious barb at Bakura. The white-maned boy shrugged, turning away with the full intention of leaving the Egyptian to fend for himself.
He didn't need this, with the insults and injuries. He was a thief, and he deserved respect from someone as annoying and unskilled as Malik!
But... he did need a place to stay. And Malik needed some training; why not give him some, and mask it as just sharing tips? That would do it, the boy reasoned, turning back around to face the still-irate blonde.
"Fine," Bakura sighed resignedly. "Then I guess you wouldn't want any of this?" He pulled the bread loaf out of his sleeve, grinning at the sudden change on the other's face. So, his guess was right: Malik was just as hungry as he was. Bakura split the loaf in half, handing one end to the surprised boy in front of him. When Malik looked at it, then him, suspiciously, the boy couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, come on. You aren't scared of a little piece of bread, are you?" He took a big bite of his own half, chewing it with relish. It was better than it smelled, that was certain! "Mmm," Bakura hummed in pleasure. "Well, if you don't want yours..." He made as if to take back the bread.
Malik snatched it, taking a bite of it quickly. "Not--mff--sca'ed," he said through a mouthful of half-chewed bread. He gulped it down, then gave Bakura a hard look. "You stole this?" He asked, obviously not believing it. The thief nodded, ripping another chunk off his own half and shoved it into his mouth.
"'Course I did," he mumbled through the mass of doughy food. "What, you think I'm gonna buy it when it's faster just to take it?" He smirked. "So. Do I win?" Malik narrowed his eyes, chewing slower as he thought. Finally, he spoke.
"Well, if I still had my chain--" a pointed look at Bakura, who ignored it. "I'd've won. But, since you got the bread..." He smiled. "Tie?"
Bakura frowned. He didn't like that idea. Ties were stupid things, tools used by cowards in a fight. If I didn't need that house so bad... "Yeah, fine," the boy grumbled, shoving the rest of the bread into his sleeve. "We may 's well work together, then," he added, making sure he sounded fairly annoyed. Malik nodded and stuck out his hand towards Bakura, who looked at it distastefully. Malik sighed patiently.
"You shake it?" The boy tried again. "To make a deal? That we'll work together and call it a tie?" Bakura gave the hand a second look, then burst out in laughter. Malik gave him an annoyed look.
"Shake on a deal?" Bakura snorted in derision. "Where I come from, you swear it by the gods. That's the only deal I accept, Malik."
The other sighed, exasperated. "Fine, fine. I swear by..." He thought for a moment. "By Horus, Osiris, and Ma'at, we'll call it a tie and work together. That good enough?" Malik narrowed his eyes when Bakura shrugged.
"If you want it to get broken, I guess," the boy said indifferently, then looked up at the sky. "I swear by Set, lord of the desert and its people, and his consort, Tawaret, lady of life, by Ma'at, keeper of truth, and Anubis, weigher of my soul in the Hall of Judgment, to work with you, Malik, as friend, partner, and brother." Bakura recited the vow from memory. It was the same one he'd seen new members of his father's gang swear when they joined, and one he'd committed to memory, for when he joined Nebibi someday. "Your fight is my fight, your enemy mine. I vow that whatever I steal is your bounty also, and to protect your life as if it were mine. If you should fall in battle, I shall avenge you, and see that your ka and ba are safely laid to rest, in the highest honor possible." The white-maned child nodded as he finished his promise.
"That is a swear." Bakura looked at his new partner smugly, only to find that Malik had already started walking towards their house while he'd been talking. Bakura cursed under his breath, sprinting to catch up. He crashed into the clearly-amused Malik, sending them both sprawling on the ground. They glared at each other for a moment, then started laughing, the blonde first, followed a few moments later by his new friend.
"Longest swear I've ever heard. Think mine'll work just fine, Bakr--" Malik was interrupted by the other.
"Bakura. Get it wrong again, and I'll risk the wrath of the gods and strangle you." Bakura growled, then laughed at Malik's face. It was nice, having a friend to joke with. Even if those jokes revolved around his name.
Paradocs: I swear, I could've done this better. Probably. Anyway, this is the last of this segment of the story! The next chapter'll be... different. In so many ways. XD
