Enchantment
Chapter 10: Be Something
"We're leaving."
"Akefia! What are you talking about?"
"I don't have time for this, Ryou. You will do as I say!"
Ryou watched in powerless disbelief as his brother tore about the room. Papers scattered in his wake. Furniture seemed to jump out of his path in fear. Ryou realized with a start that his brother was panicking. Akefia was actually frightened.
"We'll slip out later tonight. The moon's barely half full, so we should be afforded at least some…"
"Akefia!"
With a spastic jerk, the older male turned to face him. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, it was as if he were seeing Ryou for the first time. For a moment he seemed some otherworldly creature, primitive and elemental, a remnant of the time before man.
"Akefia…" Ryou struggled to speak, too caught in this ethereal illusion and his own sense of panic. "Akefia, what has happened? Why are we leaving Baranis?"
"Why?" For a moment the lord cast about wildly before his eyes finally settled on a crumpled note sitting apart from the others on his desk. "This…" He grabbed the paper, shoving it with too much force into Ryou's hands. "Read it."
The boy gave his brother a quizzical look and proceeded to smooth the parchment out over the back of the chair. "What is this? A letter?"
Menthu,
Wolves of Egypt's imposter city follow the dying sun. They hunger for the fish lying in their path.
The fish is rotten. Abandon one ocean for another.
Apep
Upon reading this, some Akefia's panic began seeping into Ryou's heart. If Anubis' message proved true, the Pharaoh's troops would be upon Baranis in a matter of days. With most of its own resources diverted to the attack on Abydos, the rebel city would fall easily into the hands of Alexandria's generals.
However, it was something altogether darker that caused Ryou's blood to shiver. What if Anubis is lying? It wouldn't be the first time the Rebel King betrayed his comrades. Anubis' was not a world of morals. It was a world of power and deceit. But if it were true that he planned to betray them, what were his motives? This thought left the boy feeling distinctly unsettled.
"We'll pack this evening. Leave a bit after midnight and…"
"Akefia?"
"Quiet, Ryou. I'm thinking." Bakura redoubled his pacing. "Leave after midnight. Head south. Don't stop until…"
"Until what? When? Where will we go, Akefia?"
The older of two drew in a startled hiss of breath. "…go…where will we go?" Bakura looked horrified, livid…sick. "We'll go to Anubis' castle…he…he invited us."
"…and you find nothing strange in that?"
At this, Bakura's tension burst into a fit of rage. Grabbing his brother by the collar, he thrust him up against the wall and gave him a good shake. "What choice do I have, Ryou? WOULD YOU HAVE ME SURRENDER TO THE PHARAOH?"
"N-no…Akefia…brother, please…"
"LET GO OF HIM!"
The grip on his tunic suddenly loosened, and Ryou found himself on the floor. Reason struggling to match pace with bewilderment, he gazed at the spectacle before him in a sort of uncomprehending daze.
Mariku and Akefia wrestling on the floor. Fighting. Cursing. Blows that equivocated love. Love that transcended personality. It was like watching a hyena and a lion drink from the same watering hole. It shouldn't work. It wasn't logical. Yet somehow…
But this wasn't Mariku. It was Malik. Malik, who was not in love with Akefia, who did not have Mariku's crafty smile or his mocking voice or his maddening, bruised-violet eyes. Yet here he was, holding Bakura back as Marik had always done, not subduing him, but matching him in a way that would remind Akefia to be less volatile.
"Don't touch him! Do you here me? DON'T PUNISH RYOU FOR YOUR MISTAKE!"
"My mistake…" The lord of Baranis lay on the floor, pinned there by an upstart slave with pretty blonde hair and startling eyes. "My mistake…what the fuck are you talking about?"
Malik laughed. The noise was bright and clear even in its anger. "You're scared to face him."
"Who? Anubis?"
"…don't play stupid. You know exactly who I'm speaking of."
These words erased whatever remained of Malik's subservience, of his fear of Bakura and his concept of what it meant to be a slave. He was free now as Marik had been free, and theirs' was an autonomy unaffected by the bonds of steel or status.
Am I scared? The question shocked Bakura to the core. The thought of meeting Mariku tortured him, filled him with regret so poignant as to border unbearable…but did it scare him?
"Mariku has never frightened me. I am perhaps the only person who can say that."
He spoke the truth. Torment does not equate fear. Neither does anguish. The word itself seemed to imply that Bakura did not want to see Marik, but this assumption was inaccurate. Bakura knew the blonde would hate him, knew that he would like nothing better than to spit in his face and utterly destroy him. However, the Lord of Baranis had always been a bit of a masochist. He was willing to risk destruction if it meant seeing him once more.
"We'll leave tonight. Just the three of us. Tell no one. To cause a panic would be unfortunate."
Akefia's words were clipped, forced even. They shivered with a brand of determination found only at the furthest edge of despairing. Malik got up, allowing the man who had been his master to stand as well.
"He won't forgive you. You know that, right?"
"Of course." Akefia stared past the blonde, gaze lost in the sunlight playing at the fringe of the curtains. He looked weathered somehow, a statue left to the whim of the elements. "To tell you the truth, I would be disappointed in him if he did."
His voice was cracked. Like granite.
Touzouko prowled easily through Anubis' city, overlooked despite the glare of the noonday sun. He had perfected the art of going unnoticed long ago and executed his petty thieving while meandering the market at a leisure stroll. The bandit had no qualms about exposing his face. In fact, his looks often proved advantageous. Few dared to question such a scarred, muscular, and abnormally pale-haired ruffian as himself.
Bread…meat…fruit, maybe…anything else?
The thief slowed for a minute, giving himself time to think. He had already pilfered most of these necessities from the market, but perhaps he should get something for Marik. It wasn't as if the bastard would appreciate it, but even so…
Maybe something for his throat.
The coughing had begun to concern him. The blonde's injuries were healing remarkably well, and even his back didn't seem to trouble him as it used to. However, it was as if Mariku's lungs were still constantly fighting for air. The coughs weren't light either. Rather, they consisted of a deep, wet hacking that was much too violent for Touzouko's liking.
What's used to sooth a sore throat anyway? An elixir? Some kind of stone? Maybe a…
A sudden commotion stirred the market's crowd, and the thief dropped back instinctively to the shadows of a nearby alley. Feet scurried, a lone drum rumbled, but the voices of the townspeople fell abnormally silent. What could it be? Captured enemies? A contingent of soldiers? Maybe word had spread that the very thief who broke into Anubis' fortress was currently stealing apples from a nearby…
A procession.
A chariot came into view, surrounded on all sides by horsemen. It crawled down the dirty streets of the market with an air of regality. The convoy was stately, disciplined, adorned with flourishes of gold trim and headed by a great, black flag.
A black flag stands for either war or sickness, and Anubis seemed to embody both of these. It was on this assumption alone that Touzouko stole along behind them. Because of the thicket of horseflesh and man obscuring his view, the thief could not make out the chariot's driver…however, who else but Anubis could inspire enough fear to make a town fall silent?
The procession stopped just at the edge of the oasis, and Touzouko was astounded to find another envoy already waiting for it. At the head of this group stood a robed figure. He was tall and lean, and, though the thief was unable to see his face, he possessed a distinct air of severity and old age.
"We meet again, Anubis."
The wizened figure came forward and bowed as the chariot wheeled into view. The man who stepped off the contraption could be none other than Anubis. Powerfully built with dirty blond hair and eyes of an indeterminable color, he clearly fancied himself a godking as much as any Pharaoh. Anubis' attire was composed of brightly colored linens and gold trim. His armor was brightly polished, shining of lapis lazuli and moonstone, and the tyrant' cape was made of imported silk, black to match his flag.
"So you say." Anubis laughed, and in an instant Touzouko understood the deathly muteness of the crowd. "I suppose you got my message."
"I did, and I'd like to discus it in your confidence if I may."
The two men drew away from their envoys, and Touzouko found himself scooting farther back into the brush as they drew nearer. Finally, when they were practically on top of him, Anubis and his companion stopped.
"I must say, Anubis, I wouldn't expect a plan as flawed as this to come from one such as yourself."
"Flawed?" The larger man let out another growl of laughter. "Don't be so hasty to judge me, Akunadin. I know Bakura better than you think!"
"Still, if he doesn't come…"
"Trust me. He'll be here."
The hooded man known as Akunadin shook his head. "You have to understand my position. I am committing treason against the court of the Pharaoh. If this plan were to fail and become publicized…"
"Then you would be guilty of nothing more than failing to kill one of Alexandria's greatest enemies."
"It isn't that simple, Anubis. We both know how suspicious such a random act would seem. Besides, you should think of your own fortunes. Is not Bakura one of your greatest allies?"
Anubis grinned, causing his face to light up weirdly. "Akefia Bakura has served his purpose and remains only as an unnecessary loose end. I don't do well with loose ends, Akunadin. They're sloppy."
"I see." The older man suddenly seemed to grow smaller. Shriveled like a reed, even his voice was tired. "And how can you expect me to trust you, Anubis? You who have betrayed so many for ends of your own?"
"I expect nothing of you. The way I see it, we are not allies. We are merely men whose goals warrant the same means. As long as our paths are parallel we fight together."
"And when they cross…"
"That depends, Akunadin, on the interests of the victor."
Touzouko waited until the men were out of earshot before he began making his way back towards the oasis' outskirts. He weaved his way through the foliage more clumsily than usual, mind preoccupied with what he just heard.
Akefia Bakura, hmm? Whoever the guy is, it sounds as if they're going to kill him.
From the brief conversation, the thief had gathered that this Bakura person was a rebel in league with Anubis. Also, Akunadin's talk of treason suggested that the old man had ties to the Pharaoh.
Akunadin. I've heard that name before, but without his face…
Deciding to ask Marik about it when he returned, Touzouko let loose a short, incredibly piercing whistle. Within seconds, his horse appears, delicate Arabian legs skipping easily over the bits of scrub and loose sand. He patted the creature's head absently. "I don't suppose you know what's going on here, do you?"
The creature merely snorted. Of course not. After all, he was only a horse.
Over the rise, another eavesdropper was also preparing to take his leave. His hands shook. His yellow hair, already weighted down with grit, drooped further.
I'm sorry Master Seto, but there will be no aid coming from your father.
He turned his horse northward and took off at a steady canter.
The moon was too bright. It hurt his eyes, pinned him down and made him feel like an insect, exposed to the insufferable scrutiny of the darkened sky. He was helpless beneath the illumination of its insistent glare, and above all else, he hated being helplessness.
"My head hurts."
No one was listening. In this ocean of moonlight and bone-white sands his voice came forth and died. There were no winds to carry it, no walls to form an echo. It wouldn't be so bad to stay here, he mused. He kind of liked the quiet.
But just as this thought came to him, he realized that nothing about this place was quiet. It was the stillness. He could hear it even when the atoms were motionless. A low hum coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, subtle but once heard incapable of being ignored. He was accustomed to sound accompanying motion, but this was sound of immobility itself. Every time he took a step or attempted to breathe the moonlight tainted air the hum would be disrupted.
So he froze, stopped breathing, allowed his organs to go quiet and the electrons buzzing around his nuclei to fall back into their cores. He let the sound of absolute stillness take him, and for once in his life he felt something like peace.
But the funny thing about peace is that, once grasped, it is remarkably hard to hold on to. Already, he could sense something disrupting the stillness. Hands reaching out, grasping him, bending his limbs and sending pain running up his spine in short, sulfurous bursts. He kept his eyes closed, trying to focus on the barely audible hum of silence, but the hands refused to go unnoticed. They fingered his hair and teeth, forced him to his knees and wormed their way inside him until their presence became too much to bear. He cried out, a keening wail that forever pierced the silence and left his mind brutally aware.
He was no longer in the desert. Gone was the too-bright moonlight and the calcified sand heavy and unstirring beneath his feet. He was laying on his stomach now, chest heaving against something unbearably soft. He was sweating copiously but did not feel overheated. In fact, he felt cold, chilled to the bone with fear.
The hands again. On his neck, his back, gripping his thighs with enough strength to tear flesh. More than anything he hated this touch. So heavy and mocking, knowing every part of him inside and out.
"Didn't put up much of a fight this time, did you?" Laughter. He wanted to vomit. "Oh well. Maybe you're learning."
Rage. Helpless, hopeless, stupid rage burning inside him, searing his lungs, blistering the winding track of his intestine. He turned to kill, turned to put those mocking hands and that grating voice to rest. He ignored the agony in his back, the fact that his throat hurt and he was choking on his own blood. His senses were blinded by hatred. The only thing left was resistance, futile and frivolous though it seemed.
It was only when the true pain started that he gave in and allowed himself to scream.
"Marik."
The wild-haired blonde sat up with a start, only to fall back as his body was wracked with coughs. The pain came from deep in his chest, welling up until it burst in a crimson trickle from his mouth. He screamed then, not in pain or rage this time, but out of sheer frustration.
"You had a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" Marik lurched to his feet blindly, back aching, his vision reduced to a chimera of whirling light. "A fucking nightmare? YOU BASTARD! ONLY CHILDREN HAVE NIGHTMARES!"
And then his legs turned to mud, and Mariku was falling and falling until…
Strong arms around his waist, a muscular chest supporting him, and a scarred cheek pressed against his throat.
"Calm down. You're bleeding again."
The world began to rematerialize, and Marik realized with a shock that he was sitting on Touzouko's lap. He stared stupidly into the thief's eyes. They gazed back at him mildly, gray and unassuming.
"That's better. You shouldn't…"
Grabbing him roughly by the hair, the blonde jerked Touzouko down into a violent kiss. The thief did nothing to resist. The intensity of the exchange completely overwhelmed him. So did the taste of the other's blood. He had never known arousal as he did now, had not understood until this moment the vivid, excruciating passion that was Marik Ishtar.
"Mariku, what are you…"
"Shh…" The blonde bit his lip. Drew blood. "Stop talking for once. You sound like an old woman."
And with that the King of Thieves was subjugated. His mouth became concerned with matters beyond mere speech, and the last of his apathy was consumed by forces more potent than stolen silver. Years later, or what could have been years if he'd had that long to live, Touzouko might think of Marik as a kind of Jinn, a demon of the desert with sandy hair and a wicked streak of promiscuity. However, at this moment he was too real to be a specter.
It was the first time they had sex. The last time also.
"…more…"
Mariku was vocal. There was nothing in his nature that enabled him to beg. However, he was a master of encouragement.
"…harder…"
"…faster…"
"…more…"
"…TOUZOUKO…"
Theirs' was a union completely lacking in refinement. The act itself was rough, rendered clumsy by their eagerness. It could have been that the thief entered before the blonde was ready, and there was a possibility that Mariku's nails dug with too much force into his partner's back. However, Touzouko was still attractive, and Marik at least knew how to please, so the sex perhaps was not so ugly and maybe the phrase 'rutting like animals' was not as accurate as one might think.
When it was over they lay on the floor together. Mariku allowed Touzouko to splay a hand across his chest, himself content to nestle his head in the crook of the other's armpit. Neither spoke. Instead, each left the other to his private musings.
One was stuck in the past. He remembered another pair of arms upon him and a far more tempestuous gaze challenging his own.
The other disliked thinking about the past. He was a thief hiding in a broken city, so what had been was always around him. Instead, he preferred the present, and all the present told him was that the apparition at his side was more thrilling and deadly than any pilfered gold.
The sky was dark, but in the east a sliver of color was beginning to rise above the sand dunes. Malik, Ryou, and Bakura had been riding for hours, and would undoubtedly have ridden for hours more had their horses not needed rest. Because of this they made camp near a small oasis and settled down to await the dawn.
"Malik?"
"Mmm?"
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Ryou blushed as the blonde rolled over groggily to face him. "I-I didn't realize you were sleeping."
"…'s okay…wasn't…"
"Wasn't what?"
"…sleeping…" Malik sat up and stretched, stifling a yawn as he did so. He pulled in his cloak tight against the morning's desert chill before turning to face the paler boy. "What's on your mind?"
"I don't know…nothing, really." Ryou stared at the immobile figure of his brother who, after composing a letter to General Mahaado to be sent off at the next village, had promptly fallen asleep. "Are you afraid to see him?"
"To see my brother, you mean? Yes, a-actually…I'm terrified."
Without thinking, Ryou pulled the blonde into an increasingly familiar hug. He couldn't help it; Loving Malik came so naturally to him. "I wish my brother never met Marik! Then it could just be me and you and…"
Malik words were so quiet, so tentative, that Ryou barely caught them. "…and what?"
"…and you wouldn't have to hate my family for what they've done to yours. We could be friends."
And Malik sighed because that is what he wished for as well. However, some things were meant to be and some things were not meant to be and being friends was just one of those things that couldn't happen.
"Don't worry, Ryou. That doesn't mean I don't…" He allowed his grip around the little noble's waist to tighten. "That doesn't mean I don't like you. If anything…"
Malik was rendered speechless as a pair of softer lips met his own.
They didn't pay attention to how long they kissed or how passionately or even in what proximity to the slumbering Lord of Baranis. Their thoughts were only for each other. Ryou was struck by the tenderness of Malik's fingers as they brushed his thighs and the nape of his neck. The blonde, on the other hand, was caught up in the younger's hair, soft and smelling sweetly of bath oils. Both found they liked the other's kiss, and neither for the briefest instant entertained thoughts of breaking away.
"Maybe we can't be friends…"
Somehow Malik found the air to speak, absorbed though he was with nibbling the soft skin of Ryou's throat.
"…but even if we can't…"
Ryou trailed his fingers gently over the sensitive markings on the other's back. This forced Malik to suppress a particularly fervent moan.
"…we can at least be something."
Dawn was in full force, and Akefia Bakura began to wake. The boys were split as suddenly as they had been united, and Malik rose to prepare the horses.
"It's getting late. You should have woken me sooner."
Ryou could not meet Akefia's gaze. However, he did take the piece of bread he offered. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter. We'll be there in two days all the same. "Hey, Malik!" He looked over to the tannest of the three.
"Yes?"
The Lord of Baranis didn't answer. Instead, he chucked another piece of bread at him and stood to collect their things. "We should reach the ghost village of Kul Elna by sundown. We can stay there for the night, then…"
Neither Ryou nor Malik was listening. They were there was still some darkness. It hid their swollen lips and the flush still fresh upon their cheeks.
Somewhere across the desert, two more weary souls stood in the doorway of their hut. Their passion from the previous evening had played itself out, and they enjoyed each other's company in relative silence.
Marik allowed himself to lean against Touzouko, who, wrapped up in the sunrise spilling over the walls of the ruined buildings, ran his hands absently through the other's tangled hair.
Only when the sun had fully risen did the thief allow himself to speak.
"I have a question for you."
"Yes?"
"Did Anubis ever speak of a man named Akunadin?"
"No." Mariku remained unfazed by a question concerning his former master. It was only in sleep that he feared what could no longer bring him harm. "He didn't, but I have heard that name before. I think he's one of the Pharaoh's generals."
Touzouko nodded, suspicions confirmed. "And what about the name Akefia Bakura? Does that mean anything to you?"
The sun was above Kul Elna's walls now, hot from its ascension. But the King of Thieves took no heed of this. He was too startled by the emotion welling in Mariku's eyes.
-TOT (Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been struggling with a mixture of writer's block, laziness, and a busy schedule. I haven't been able to read any updated fics either, but I'm going to get right on that. I quite like this chapter. As always, I adore writing scenes involving Marik and Touzouko, and Ryou and Malik finally got some action as well! I tried to cut back on some of my descriptiveness. I know I can go a bit overboard, and I don't want it to detract from the story. I can't wait to know what readers think.)
Please review.