A/N: Sorry for the delay. School's been hell. Enjoy!
Special Thank You to Reviewers: HiddenSoul, Mizuki hikari, Ryu Sayuri, EgyptianSoul.88, Midsummer'sQueen, the-writing-vampire, Suseh, Daisy, and Merciless Ruby.
I apologize that I probably haven't replied to the wonderful reviews all of you sent me for various chapters. I've just been so busy that I've hardly had any moments to myself and my own writing. Please just know that I love and appreciate every single one of them and every single praise and critique they gave me. Going back and rereading them kept me always thinking about this story and fired up to continue writing it. Again, having time was really the issue.
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Chapter 11: Burn
Téa felt her tired and starved body begin to tremble as she tried to face down the hateful stare Bakura was boring into her. His expression, however, was too terrible, too animalistic for her to look at for very long, and––knowing that it was probably unwise to do so––she dropped her eyes away from his form altogether to see that her hand, which was causing the man such offense, was still stretched out towards the clothing materials that were now so clearly declared as his. Finally realizing this, she snatched her hand back as if a cobra had lunged for it, crossing her arms in front of her in a defensive gesture. Her efforts were fruitless. In Bakura's eyes, the damage had been done, and she looked the very embodiment of guilty.
Not able to bear the tense, enraged silence any longer, Téa attempted to explain herself, saying in a shaky voice, "I–I just––"
"Silence, slut!" Bakura snarled out, beginning to stalk slowly towards her. Téa flinched, dimly thinking that, as a master thief and a murderer, Bakura wasn't exactly fit to label anyone with a degrading name, much less her. Instead of unwisely voicing this aloud, the brunette took a step back for every move he made in her direction, her attention focused solely on his progress. Eventually, she staggered backward, bumping into the pile of clothes that had started this whole fiasco, and fell into them. She could tell from the murderous flash in his crimson eyes that her reaction certainly hadn't helped matters, and she realized that she was choking on her fear of him. Even when she had been captured by the Pharaoh's soldiers, locked into a cell, threatened with Thema and Jabari's deaths, and watching as the palace was blown apart from real life Duel Monsters, she hadn't been this scared. Recalling all of that, though, allowed her to remind Bakura of one crucial thing about her, the one thing that could possibly save her from his wrath when it was clear to her that nothing and no one else would.
"I saved you!" she cried out desperately, uncaring that panic coated her voice even more thoroughly than Mai's thick nail polish covered the blonde's nails.
The entire room froze at her statement, Malik staring at her with a mixture of confusion and wonderment. Hearing that a seemingly innocent, civilian girl had saved the life of the infamous Thief King wasn't a story one heard…ever. Maybe, she truly was one of them after all.
Téa noticed none of this, only thankful that her reminder had stopped Bakura in his advances. She noticed that his eyes had lost their look of bloodlust and had changed to a far more natural, but hardened gray color. Refusing to move from her spot lest it attracted his fury again, she continued to speak, in a much more softer tone, "Your–your life. I saved your life."
Once it was apparent that Bakura was going to remain speechless, too busy examining the girl with newfound yet begrudging intrigue, Malik felt it was now safe to speak on Téana's behalf. "Perhaps, her boldness is a good sign, Bakura. So many thieves we've come across recently have no spine, no courage when it comes to facing off their fears…or you, for that matter. Personally, I find most of them truly dull, even during a job. I can almost see myself dying from sheer boredom if you never returned from one of your outings and left the poor idiots to me. With her, well, things will be a lot more lively around here, not to mention she could be useful in the field. She amuses me, at any rate."
"This isn't about your amusement, Malik," Bakura grumbled, though Malik did raise a crucial point. Being a thief was about being spontaneous. A good thief constantly surprises his opponents; an exceptional thief takes risks and has no fear in regards to the consequences of these risks. He was loathe to admit it, but this slip of a girl had more potential at being an exceptional thief like Nesmut, like Odion, even like Malik and himself, than most of the men he'd come across in his entire life. Unfortunately, in his eyes, she had far more important problems about herself, which would probably lead to her demise before she reached that potential. Namely… "Nothing changes the fact that she tried to steal what was mine, Malik. No thief, no man with an ounce of intelligence, would dare do something so foolish."
"You're exaggerating." Malik shrugged, knowing that Bakura was just grasping at his subsiding anger to find excuses for himself. "It's not like she was going after jewels or gold. She was looking at clothing, for Ra's sake! Typical for a girl," he smirked at her, and she couldn't help glaring back. "Besides, look at her! Can you blame her for being tempted to try and get something better? That's your blood on her clothes, as I recall. Honestly, I've seen drowned cats that look better than she does right now––"
"Malik, shut up," Bakura bit out, walking towards her again. Even though he seemed far more calm now, Téa still couldn't help tensing up in nervousness. When he grasped her arm, she recoiled slightly, and she nearly fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap, tripping over the chains around her feet as Bakura flung her towards the middle of the room and away from his possessions. She regained her footing in time and turned back to face him, noting, relieved, that none of the dried blood on her clothes stained any of the clothing materials she'd touched. "If it's really such a concern for you, I'll find her something suitable to wear. In the meantime, girl, ask Nesmut for clothes to borrow. I'm sure she won't object."
In other words, Téa thought, she wouldn't dare object.
"After that," he continued, "do not ever bother me about this nonsense again, or I will rip your throat out next time. Understand?"
Téa did the only thing she could do in this situation. She nodded her acceptance and hoped that this meeting would end soon so she could get away from both of them. It wasn't that she wasn't thankful for Malik's interference; she was just wondering where that so-called chivalry was when Bakura looked like he was about to tear her head from her shoulders not five minutes ago.
"Sit," Bakura barked, taking his place in a makeshift throne at the head of the room. Malik settled himself at the end of a divan, leaving Téa to either sit directly next to him in the middle or on the last seat at the other end of the divan, closest to Bakura. Neither particularly appealed to her, but she had no choice but to pick her poison. She decided to sit beside Malik since he certainly seemed to be the man who was least likely to attack her, at least outside of her dreams.
"Now, enough wasting time." Téa repressed a scowl at that. He had been the one who'd pitched a fit and––oh, forget it! "I need to know where your allegiances truly lie, girl, and don't think I've forgotten about the trickery you pulled with your little language stunt. Despite what you may have heard about us thieves, deceit is not appreciated between us."
"We take it kinda personally," Malik agreed, smiling charmingly. "The key is, if you're going to lie, don't ever get caught. Then, you have no problems." She suddenly wondered how many times he'd told his own deceits to people. Judging from his unrepentant attitude, it was probably a lot.
"Stop giving her advice, fool," Bakura said, exasperated. "Now, I'm going to ask you myself: why did you feel the need to deceive us? And, I warn you, make it believable, or you die here and now."
Wondering how many more death threats she would get in this day alone, Téa wearily retold her story, almost verbatim from what she'd told Odion and Nesmut. After hearing the same account for the third time, Bakura was forced to accept that she was telling the truth, as strange as it seemed. That, or she really was a flawless liar. Staring at her wide, blue eyes, though, the Thief King quickly derailed that assumption. There was still too much naiveté there, too must of a trusting, compassionate personality; it was written all over her face, clear as day. An expert liar would never have that kind of look. Such innocence was too far beyond such a person, too far beyond him or any other thief in his whole band.
"Very well. I accept your explanation, though it still sounds like the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. All I have left to ask is, what makes you think you have what it takes to join us? Why do you want to join us in the first place? It's obvious that you are no killer, despite how you have pretended to be." Bakura rested his arms on the arms of his chair and leaned back, waiting for what would no doubt be an intriguing answer. Malik's gaze never left her, anxious to here her explanation as well.
Téa closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. Alright, Haji, you're on. Together, they began to weave a simple tale of her past back in Troy, though some of it wasn't as fabricated as Téa pretended that it was.
"If you're really want to know" she paused, starting again. "If you're really going to understand why I've been looking for you, you'll need to know a few things about me. Around two weeks ago, I woke up in the desert, on the outskirts of the town we've just come from. I don't really know how I got there or how I even got to this country. I only vaguely remember how life for me was like back in…Troy." She swallowed, hoping neither of them had noticed her hesitation. She had almost said, "Japan," before she remembered herself. "I remember that I wasn't, exactly, happy there. As the only daughter of my family, I was expected to adhere to certain…principles, principles which I didn't fully agree with. But, it didn't matter if I agreed with them or not because my future was being planned without me. Life was moving on, and I felt like I was being left behind. And I hated it. I hated that I couldn't fully understand everything that was happening around me, I hated that I couldn't stop it, I hated that I couldn't dictate my own destiny. Instead, other, more powerful people were doing that for me, when in truth, I know, I know that they didn't have the right––"
Téa forced herself to stop. For some reason, she felt like crying. She didn't know it, then, but Haji was drawing from Téa's innermost thoughts and feelings to provide an outline of truth to this so-called false past. In actuality, it was only the place that was false. All these feelings of having a lack of control, a lack of understanding, of helplessness, she had begun to experience while in Japan, in the future. Ever since Yugi solved the Millennium Puzzle, in fact, nothing had ever really been the same, and it scared her. With all the talk of danger and magic and destiny, she was feeling unneeded, not because Yugi or her other friends didn't want her around, but because she had just become obsolete in comparison to a grander design, a design she couldn't even begin to be a part of. Even now, being a "chosen one" of Haji's, she still felt insignificant and separated from the larger picture. A means to an end, nothing more. But, she didn't understand this yet.
"I'm sorry," she chuckled nervously. "That was incredibly vague, wasn't it? But, I don't know any other way to explain it. In that other life, I just felt––"
"Trapped," Malik added unexpectedly. "Suffocated. Chained." He looked pointedly to the shackles still around her wrists and ankles. "Like so many others forced to bend to a society that is out to oppress them and regulate everything they do, and like so many others, you long for something better. You long for…power."
She met his eyes, then, fully met them and was stunned by the intense knowledge shining in their violet depths. It was as if he understood how she was feeling even better than she did.
"Yes," she agreed slowly, before rushing to amend one little thing about his deduction that bothered her, "but, I only want power over myself, over my own life. I don't believe I have the right to hold power over anyone else."
Malik shook his head. "If you truly believe that, then those people who dictate your life will always dictate your life. It doesn't matter where you run to, what group you join, or what you believe in; they will always be there. If you really want to be the master of your own destiny, you will eventually have to show them that you are more powerful than they are in order to be free. The only way to do that is to exercise your power, early and often."
"And risk becoming just like them in the process," Téa asserted. Malik smirked and bowed his head in concession.
"Possibly."
"Enough," Bakura interrupted, tired of hearing such foolish notions. "So, the girl wants to escape from the ties that bind her so stiflingly, and to do that, she thinks her best bet is the Thief King's band of miscreants. Pathetic."
He rose from his chair, coming to loom over her. Téa stiffened, both from his insult and his proximity. What was he going to do? Kill her? Or something worse?
"Listen to me, wench." Bakura leaned down, grabbing her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. He was tired of her cowardice. "I can tell I was wrong before. You don't know what you've stumbled into here. You are not one of us, and you don't belong here. There's no doubt that, back in your homeland, you never knew a bit of strife, of real pain and sacrifice like what all of us have felt at the Pharaoh's hand. You're just another spoiled, pampered hussy, who thinks the world owes her far more than what she's due, but I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to send you on a boat back to Troy, back to your cushy lifestyle that you're so thankless for, and be done with it. Consider any misery or suffering you experience there sufficient payback for thoroughly wasting my life."
He released her abruptly and stalked off. He looked like he was about to quit the room entirely, and it was at that realization that Téa knew she had to act quickly to change his mind.
She sprang up from her seat, chains rattling all the while. "Wait!"
Bakura stopped but he didn't seem to feel obligated to turn back and look at her.
"Whoever said I haven't experienced the sting of the Pharaoh's hand like the rest of you have? Remember, I've lived directly under his rule, in his city for two weeks now, and remember, it was in his cells I was locked in!"
The Thief King eventually turned around, his expression conveying that he would rather be anywhere but listening to her, but she had managed to snare his attention. He waved at her impatiently before crossing his arms. "Continue."
Téa was about to begin speaking again, until Nesmut and Odion entered the room behind Bakura. The couple suddenly had the attention of the room's three inhabitants, and Nesmut, sensing the tense, awkward atmosphere, had the grace to look sheepish while slyly moving to hide something behind her back.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the ebony-haired girl grinned apologetically. "Are we, uh, interrupting something? Well, don't mind us. Odie and I will just pretend to be furniture."
Odion scowled, ever regretful that Nesmut remembered to call him such an embarrassing nickname, but remained silent. Téa fought a smile and nodded to them both in recognition.
Getting Bakura's attention again, she continued where they'd left off. "Granted, I've never seen the Pharaoh since coming here, so it sounds a little unfair to blame him for everything. At the same time, those guards and those horrible High Priests especially were under his direct orders, weren't they? When I ran into Malik," she gestured to him, "he was trying to escape from some guards, as a matter of fact. I saw what was happening, so I decided to, uh, help hide him so he could escape." She pointedly avoided glancing at Malik when she said that last part; the smugness wafting from him was almost palpable. "They were only doing their jobs, but at the same time, four against one didn't seem fair at all. Nothing about the Pharaoh's justice system seems fair, I've experienced that firsthand.
"Although," she reflected, "that High Priest you fought, Seth, was doing something that the Priest Karim said the Pharaoh wouldn't like, so there's obviously more corruption going on there that's completely unrelated to the Pharaoh."
Every thief in the room perked up at this. "And what was this something?" Bakura asked, incredibly interested yet he hid it well.
Téa closed her eyes in concentration, trying to remember. "I'm not sure, really. They used a lot of terms I'm not familiar with at all. Maybe if I start at the beginning, it would help?" Sensing the white-haired man's building impatience, the dancer hurried on with her tale. "I was staying with a married couple when the three of us were arrested. Thema and Jabari. They housed refugees or anyone that needed protection, even if it was protection from the law. They were doing it because they were looking for information about where they're son was. He ran off and joined a group of thieves years ago, so they thought if they could find the right thief, they could find him again.
"Well, Jabari brought home a man needing shelter, a man claiming to be a thief from your group. But, he wasn't. He was a con man hired to find people like them to hand over to the Pharaoh's guards for a reward. I was knocked out, but when I woke up, we were in different cells.
"And that's when he came in, Seth. He started talking to Jabari, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. When Seth left suddenly, Jabari told me he was leaving to get a translator for me. It wasn't long before he returned with Karim, who had these…" she trailed off, looking like she was thinking about how to describe something, but in reality, she was confirming with Haji that it would definitely not be a good idea to mention that she knew about the Millennium Items and what they truly were. "I don't really remember now, but he had these golden, scale things. He said they would measure my soul."
"The Millennium Scales," Bakura confirmed. Ignoring her faux-questioning look, he motioned for her to keep talking.
"Right. Well, he asked me who I was, where I was from, and if I was aware of my friend's crimes of being thief sympathizers. I answered as honestly as I could while still speaking up for them. In the end, it was all for nothing. By staying truthful, Karim deemed me innocent, but my friends were still condemned. They were supposed to be beheaded but––"
Téa's words chocked her as the sadness, anguish, and disgust of that night hit her again, full-force. From everything going on, she had been able to forget that she was supposed to be grieving, but reliving the event easily and swiftly brought it all back. She had to finish the story, though. She had to convince Bakura to let her stay, that she wanted to achieve her vengeance because even she was steadily starting to believe that she deserved it now. Against Seth. Regaining her composure, the brunette steadied herself, speaking clearly but angrily.
"But then Seth interfered. He dragged Jabari from his cell and took him into another room. Karim told me what was going on, that he didn't like it, but since Seth was the Pharaoh's right hand, he couldn't do anything to stop him. He told me that, instead of beheading them, Seth was using torture to…to…take something from him. God, what was it? Ka?"
"Ka!" Nesmut exclaimed, alarmed. "Ka! Are you sure? Did a monster appear after that?"
"Well, I didn't see any monster, because around that time, you all started attacking the palace. Seth ran back in, and I gathered that––that Jabari's torture hadn't lasted long and the monster had only been a weak one. I don't know anything more than that."
"Ra," Nesmut breathed shakily.,"Isis, and Osiris! I've heard a lot of terrible things coming out of that place, but I didn't know they were doing this! Extracting people's Ka from them, and these people being civilians at that!" She turned worriedly to Bakura, her gaze darting around to everyone in the room. "Imagine what they'll do to us if they catch any one of us, what they'll get out of us! Our most prized monsters, the monsters of our souls, and they'll be working for them!"
"But, I still don't get it. What is a Ka, and how are you able to summon these monsters anyway?" Téa questioned. "I've never seen anything quite like it in my life!" That was true. Compared to the real thing, holograms couldn't cut it anymore.
"Explain that later," Bakura cut in. "What we need to start worrying about is why Seth is doing this in the first place. It's obviously not on the Pharaoh's orders, or Karim would have been involved as well."
"Maybe Seth is tired of being second best," Malik smirked, though inwardly he was disturbed by what Téana had discovered. "Could be he's trying to gather up and army of monsters to overthrow good, ol' Atemu. How funny would that be to watch?"
"An army wouldn't matter," Bakura said. "It would take care of the other priests but not the Pharaoh's God Monsters. He must be looking for a Ka from a human strong enough to stand against them, only he isn't getting much luck so far. We'll just have to keep a watch on him. He could be useful in the future."
"If you're suggesting on befriending him," Téa spat before she could stop herself, "don't count on me cooperating. He's going to pay for what he did to my friends. He's nothing but a monster!"
A dark smile curled Bakura's lips. "Befriending him sounds a bit much. Manipulating him until he's no longer useful is more accurate. After that, girl, feel free to slit his throat yourself. I'll even give you the knife to do it with if you need it."
"I'll hold you to that." It crossed Téa's lips before she could stop it. The most shocking thing to her was finding that she truly meant it. What was she becoming by being in this world? Whatever it was, it seemed it had impressed Bakura.
"Very well. I withdraw my previous offer. You will remain with us. However," he glared at her threateningly, "don't consider this an open invitation. I do not trust you in the slightest, wench. You'll start at the bottom of the ranks, just like all the others, and you'll prove yourself in time or die trying. I don't care what you do; just don't even think about betraying us or challenging me, and we should get along just fine, hn?"
"Right. I'm just glad to know you finally believe that I have what it takes, though. And in case you forgot," she couldn't help but add again, smiling slightly, "I did save your––"
"Yes, yes!" He waved off, clearly agitated that he would have to acknowledge that fact.
"Doesn't that mean you owe her a life-debt in return, Bakura?" Malik spoke up, the image of smugness. "A gentleman always upholds life-debts, and we are nothing if not gentlemen, hmm?"
Through her surprise at finding out such a code was followed by Malik and Bakura, she watched tensely as Bakura looked like he wanted to lunge himself at Malik. Odion listened on, curiously, and Nesmut looked like Christmas had come six months early.
"You mean to tell me," she laughed, "that little Miss Priss over there saved your tanned ass? Oh, that is too precious!"
"Nesmut, you will hold your tongue before I introduce your own ass to my hand."
"As if that introduction has never been made before," she grinned. "They're very good friends, I'd say."
Téa felt her face heat up in embarrassment at the innuendo, while watching Bakura anxiously, worried that he would decided to punish her for bringing up such a sensitive topic. He looked annoyed enough to do something drastic. A moment later, though, his anger vanished to be replaced by a self-satisfied smirk, ignoring Nesmut's comment.
"I believe," the white-haired thief said, "that debt has already been repaid."
"What?" Téa interjected. She wasn't about to let him cheat his way out of this. If he owed her a save, then she definitely wanted to have that security under her belt. "Since when?"
"Since I carried your unconscious and apparently ungrateful ass out of the burning, falling remains of the palace," Bakura shot back, still smirking. "If I had left you there, there's no doubt Seth would have had his way with you once he regained consciousness, and no method he's ever thought of to deal with our kind has ever been pleasant, I can promise you that. You'd have gone the same way as your friends, and he wouldn't have rushed the process as he did with the peasant. "
"Come off it," Malik laughed. "You didn't save her because you were concerned for her well-being. You saved her 'cause you were curious, same as the rest of us."
"Doesn't change the fact that I still saved her, though, does it? My debt has been repaid."
Deal closed, then. Téa deflated with disappointment. There was no denying that she could have really used having the Thief King owing her a life-debt; even she wasn't above using that to her advantage.
"Now that that business has been cleared, Nesmut," Bakura turned to her, "go to the back room. You'll find that the fire is waiting for you."
"You got it." Nesmut proceeded to pass Téa to get to the back room Bakura and Malik had previously come out of, and that's when she noticed the irons in her hands. The girl suddenly became very uneasy as a sense of dread settled over her, and Malik suddenly went tense and very silent.
"Um, what are those for?"
"Why," Bakura smiled darkly, "for you, of course. Consider this your first trial, girl. To be a thief, you'll need to grow accustomed to considerable pain, and I know you don't have much experience in that front. If you cannot handle this little trifle, there is no way you could truly become one of us. You would only be a liability, and if that's the case, then I would just rather kill you now."
"So, you're going to torture me?" Téa exclaimed, already looking for a place to run. Malik rose and placed himself behind her, grabbing her arms and raising them slightly. The iron bands around her limbs came to her full attention, and it suddenly dawned on her what was going to happen next. "There––there isn't another way?"
"Even if there was, I wouldn't do it. The only way to get through those shackles without a key is to burn through them. There will be potential scarring and a lot of pain, I can promise that." Bakura chuckled ominously.
"Bakura," Malik said, trying to reason with him. "Maybe this is a little drastic. At least let me knock her out first––"
"If you don't have enough spine to do this, Malik, send one of the others in; I'm sure they'd love to be a part of this."
Bakura stared at Malik challengingly, daring him to leave. If he did, longtime partner or not, he would be severely punished for it. Malik instinctively knew this; not only could his cowardice cost him his life but also it could cost Téa anything from a limb to her own life. Most of the others were like Bakura when it came to causing pain: it didn't matter who, it didn't matter why, just so long as they could inflict the blows. The difference was, unlike the others, Bakura knew when to stop, when to regain control. He just rarely chose to show that kind of mercy. Knowing this, Malik had no option but to stay. Besides, he owed it to her after she'd, as she put it, helped him escape from those guards so many days ago.
"Rethought your platform, have you?" Bakura mocked. "Wise choice, Malik. This'll be a learning experience. For all of us, I'm sure. Now, restrain her!"
"NO!" Téa screamed, thrashing and kicking anything she could reach in a blind panic, but between Odion and Malik's strength, she didn't have any real chance of escaping. That didn't stop her from screaming, however.
"I really am sorry about this, love," Malik whispered in her ear soothingly, "but there's nothing else we can do. Just hold on. It'll eventually be over."
He's right, Téa, Haji said, the conviction behind his voice putting a damper on her screams. Pain is only in the mind. It cannot last forever, and don't forget, you have me. I'll always be here. If the pain becomes too much for you, I'll help you through it. So, please, don't be afraid.
Hyperventilating but believing Haji and even Malik, Téa took several deep gulps of air, trying to calm down, but it was no use. She was terrified of what was about to happen. She hadn't given much thought to how they'd be able to get these shackles off without a key of some sort, but she would have never guessed they would do this, that they would try to burn them off.
Odion and Malik practically carried her to a small table in another section of the room. Bakura cleared its surface with one sweep of his hand, uncaring as miscellaneous items scattered and crashed onto the floor. The thought of violence was already improving his mood.
"Don't bother trying to find bindings. Just hold her still when the time comes," he ordered.
Every second seemed to last fifty years to Téa as she was feverishly hoping that Nesmut would never come back with the hot irons. She was gravely disappointed when she saw the rough but graceful girl eventually return, the end of the iron rail glowing orange with what looked like hellfire to her. Wordlessly, Nesmut passed it off to Bakura, refusing to look at him or at Téa. She still couldn't believe Bakura would use a method like this so soon. He must really have it out for the girl. Malik was of a similar opinion as he felt her body shake violently under his hands, though she had stopped shrieking. He watched, helpless, as her oceanic eyes locked firmly onto the hot irons and refused to move.
Téa was, without a doubt, nearly out of her mind with fear; she had no idea what was coming next, what the pain would be like, and the fear of the unknown was almost as bad to her as the actual trial would be. She could vaguely feel Haji's presence in the back of her mind and Malik's strong hands on her arms and strangely felt reassured, even comforted. Bakura's voice brought her back from her panic, anchoring her back in reality for one last moment.
"This," he smiled cruelly down at her, his eyes blazing with the beginnings of bloodlust again, "is going to hurt like hell."
"No," Téa begged, and she felt no shame for it. This was serious. "NO, please!" Her many cries and pleadings refused to sway him, however; he was immune to such things.
But, Nesmut wasn't. If the girl was going to receive any mercy whatsoever, she was the only one who would or could show it to her. Fiddling her shell necklace nervously, she approached Bakura, stopping him just before he touched the hot irons to the first shackle on the girl's right wrist, Malik and Odion keeping her body solidly against the table.
"Bakura," she spoke clearly, though a slight tremble rested in her voice, "please, let me do this instead."
"You?" Bakura sneered, not pulling the hot irons back from their hovered spot over Téa's wrist. "And why would you volunteer for this? Are you going soft for this whore, as well?"
"Not at all, my lord." Every male was rendered silent at that. Nesmut never addressed Bakura with the title all the lesser thieves had to refer to him by, unless she was completely serious and sincere about something. "I just know that, between the two of us, I have the softer hand."
"A softer hand?" Bakura laughed menacingly. "You're going to have to try a different angle if you want to be the one to perform this ritual. This isn't supposed to be pleasant, Nesmut, not by any means."
"And it won't be," she promised, "but if you use too much force, you could hold the irons down for too long and end up searing completely through her skin to her arteries. A thief without hands or feet wouldn't serve much use to us, now, would she? And you know how your tendencies are, my lord, better than anyone. You won't give her an inch, and it will likely cost her her life. I, on the other hand, can teach her the lesson she needs to learn while making sure she survives to know that she learned it in the first place."
Bakura and Nesmut examined each other for a long moment, gauging each other for weakness or concession. Finally, Bakura stepped away from Téa, withdrawing the hot irons and presenting them with a flourish to Nesmut.
"It's your lesson, then, Nesmut," he intoned before smirking evilly, "but I warn you, if you slip up even once, if she loses so much as a hand, I will use these same irons to burn through that lovely throat of yours for misleading me."
Nesmut swallowed thickly at the thought. The pressure was certainly on her now. "Of course, my lord."
She took the hot irons reverently from him, and he withdrew into another part of the room to silently watch the spectacle. Nesmut approached Téa, signally Malik and Odion to get ready before staring Téa in the eye.
"Téana, prepare yourself." And she pressed the hot iron firmly on the shackle of her right wrist, waiting for the moment of truth.
Téa was tense, her body coiled more tightly than a spring. At first, there wasn't any pain at all since the heat from the irons had yet to affect the metal around her delicate skin. Minutes went by, and slowly, that started to change. Gradually, the metal started to heat up, but it wasn't so bad. It was like putting her hand under a spray of hot water. Unpleasant, but not unendurable. One could get used to it. But, there comes a time when one's skin cannot adapt to the heat from water. It sears the skin so much that all one can do is jerk back or dump cool water into it to get the temperature to lower to a more tolerable level. There was no kind of solution like this for Téa. She couldn't jerk back, she couldn't put ice on it, she couldn't do anything except scream, cry, and simply endure. And that's what she did.
The first shackle snapped off, revealing red, raw skin where the cuff had rubbed and bumped against her, but where the hot irons were placed, her skin was blistered and shiny like a lobster's. Her sunburn suddenly looked like a pinprick by comparison.
As Nesmut started on the second shackle on her left wrist, Téa's cries and pleas grew louder and more pathetic. Half of the time, she didn't even know what she was shouting, but she was so desperate for it to end, to be over forever. She begged many times for Nesmut to just kill her, but the girl refused to listen or give in to these pleas. She only remained focused on her task. Odion, a normally stoic man, felt his heart move for the girl. She truly hadn't been through anything like this before, but he knew that it had to be done. He glanced up from holding down the girl's lower body, studying his master with concerned green eyes. He knew Malik better than anyone, even better than Bakura. He knew Malik's feelings for the girl, whatever they were, ran deeper than he what he had implied to Bakura, especially after translating the conversation between them after the palace raid. If Malik asked him, he would be glad to train the girl and prepare her for what Bakura would no doubt continue to ask of her.
The second shackle fell away, and Téa was completely delirious, throat hoarse from screaming. The pain in both her wrists was too terrible to describe. Nesmut worked busily on the third shackle around her left ankle, and dimly, strangely, the pain started to subside, slowly, almost unnoticeable. When this did register to Téa, she believed that she must be dying, her body unable to take anymore.
Is that really all I have? Floated brokenly across her mind. Some heroine I am.
For some reason, these thoughts empowered her mind, it made her want to fight through the pain, to stay conscious. She wanted to look Bakura in the eye after it was over and say, "Huh, is that all? Wasn't that bad." Never mind that she had been groveling and screaming bloody murder the entire time. Her body, however, didn't want to cooperate.
As she passed from the world of consciousness, she felt someone grip both of her hands strongly but gently.
Malik…? It was her last thought before her mind shut down, and she knew nothing for a time.
When next she woke, she was no longer in Bakura's domain, which, although a pleasing thought, didn't improve her mood much. The room she was in was still pretty spacious, and similar decorations and wares were scattered throughout like what she saw before in the Thief King's chambers: tapestries, golden trinkets, jewels, fabrics, her dirty clothes from the future––wait! She darted her gaze back to her clothes, utterly confused as to why they were scattered on the ground and not on her body. Yet, she could feel that she was wearing clothes of some sort, so what was going on?
She was too weak, in mind and in body, to put the pieces together. Sitting up from the comfortable mattress she was laying on, she cried out in pain as her mind finally registered the state of her wrists and ankles. They were completely free of the cuffs, but she could feel the burn she'd received from her latest ordeal, each wrapped firmly in gauze and some odd smelling paste. She wasn't sure if they were first or second degree burns, but at this point, she didn't care. She honestly felt like dying and was disappointed to find that she hadn't. The brunette just felt so useless, so weak and frail. She wasn't cut out for this; Haji had chosen the wrong girl.
No, Téa, Haji encouraged her, you have proven yourself far stronger than most. Just remember what I told you. Pain is in the mind. If you can convince your mind to overcome this, then you will thoroughly and effectively convince your body to overcome it, too.
Haji, she thought weakly, thanks for the words of wisdom, really, but…enough. Enough, now. I…I need some time.
Of course.
And she felt him recede from her mind again. Téa sighed wearily, wondering what she should do now, thinking that she should be doing something, but she quickly found that she didn't have enough strength to rise from the bed. Her strength didn't really matter, though, because someone entered the room before she could give anything much thought.
"You're awake." Téa whipped her head towards the voice, grimacing at the pain any movement caused her. "I'll admit, I thought you'd never wake up, love."
It was Malik.
A/N: Well, my friends, do I still got it since last we've seen each other? Hope everything's been well with all of you. Please don't forget to review!