Dueljewl: OMG, you guys have no idea how incredibly sorry I am for the
uberly long delay! My computer has been pretty screwy lately and I've had a
bad case of writers' block, two things that together don't make well for
any author or their fic. I was actually surprised when I got the last few
reviews for this; I didn't know anyone else was even reading this still!
So, to all of you, I owe a massive sorry, and a thank you to those of you still reading this god forsaken fic.
I had a few questions, so I guess I better clear that up. For those of you reading the manga, think of this between when Bakura stole Yami's father's mummy and before that whole showdown with the gods and Diabound (sp?). Bakura's role would be the Thief King we all know and love from the manga, so there will be some times where I mention that.
Yami would be Yugi's other half, I just didn't know at the time that I wrote this what his real name was during the whole Egypt part of his life. So sorry to any of those people I may have confused; I was only going off of what I had from other fics. (Which probably wasn't the best thing to do hehehe.)
So, if there are any more questions, just tell me in your reviews. Once again, I am soooo sorry about the humongous delay between updates; hopefully that will change soon.
*stuff* = italics (my computer isn't working right at the moment)
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"Cail, h -"
That was as far as he got before Cail backward in his chair, screaming.
Furrowing his eyebrows in displeasure, Bakura walked calmly to where Cail currently lay sprawled on the ground, a forgotten cup of brandy clutched in his left hand, the contents splashed across his front. Oily brown hair falling across his face, Cail peered up at the Thief King, fear and anger mixing in his murky brown eyes. Bending down to hoist Cail up by his worn shirtfront, Bakura smiled crookedly as he straightened to his full height, topping Cail by a head.
"Now, now, that's not how we great friends, is it?"
"Friends? Friends! Last time I saw you I had half my *ass* bitten off!"
Frowning, Bakura thought back to the incident. "It was only a small bite. The crocodiles really have been severely underfed; it was just doing what was in its nature."
"Small? I couldn't walk for months!"
"The price you pay for success my friend, though it seems you haven't been having much since last I saw you."
And in all truth, Bakura's observation was correct. The ends of Cail's baggy linen trousers were well worn, the knees threadbare, and his shirt so overly patched hardly any of the initial garment remained.
Rubbing a hand through his greasy hair, Cail's narrowed eyes focused on the floor just in front of his sandled toes. "Yeah, well, not all of us have your particular... skills."
"Speaking of skills," Bakura started, grabbing behind him for Lyanna's arm and pulling her next to him roughly, "how much do you think we could get for her?"
Of all the reactions Bakura would have expected from Cail - eyes lighting up with greed at the prospect of a good sell, ogling the girl for whatever feminine charms she might have possessed - the one he got was not one of them.
Instead of staring quite noticeably like he usually did when he saw a woman of any semblance of beauty, Cail yelped, leaping backwards a few feet and clutching the cup to his chest like a talisman against some form of evil. His eyes looked like they were about to pop from his head as he stared anxiously around the room, eyes darting from the girl, to Bakura, and back around the room again. Mouth working in a silent litany, Cail slowly crept closer, staying as far from Lyanna as he could and still speak to Bakura.
"What." he paused to lick lips suddenly gone dry, eyes still round as saucers. "What in the name of all that is holy and good do you think you're doing with... with her?!"
"Like I said, how much do you think we could get for her?" Bakura questioned once more, one eyebrow raised in silent amusement at Cail's rather unusual display of nerves. He scanned the room nonchalantly, noting that none of the few occupants had noticed a thing, and were unlikely to notice anything except the inside of their cups for some time.
Lyanna, having been silent up until this point, now chose to speak. Which, for Bakura, was quite possibly her most annoying choice so far.
"Did you ever stop to think," she started acidly, glaring up at Bakura, "that other's might actually recognize someone from the ruling family? Just because you're too incompetent to see it, doesn't mean that other's wont."
Bakura winced, looking around the room quickly to see if anyone had overheard. Of course, the girl had had enough sense to keep her voice low, but you could never be too sure. Cail, suspicions confirmed, let out an odd sounding squeak, face draining of all color. He looked from Lyanna to Bakura, mouth once more working silently. This time, however, Bakura felt like he was trying to scream instead of get out any real words.
"You ... you ki-kidnapped ... the Ph-ph-pharaohs'... little sister?" The sentence finally came out, broken and breathy though it was.
Taking Cail's arm in one hand and Lyanna's in the other, Bakura dragged them both from the room. This was not the place for such conversations. Heading out the door, Bakura wasn't surprised when no one noticed their departure, just as no one had noticed their entrance and the rather odd display that had followed. Bakura looked up and down the street warily, still pulling the two along behind him despite Lyanna's attempts at struggling free of him. He did not release them again until they had entered a small, darkened alleyway, though his hand hovered close to Lyanna's arm in case she decided to try and bolt.
Lyanna's arms folded across her chest stubbornly, her head held high in that annoyingly arrogant way she had. She regarded Bakura from narrowed violet eyes, a frosty set to her features. Bakura, resolutely ignoring her, rounded on Cail, watching as the slightly shorter man shifted uneasily, the cup from earlier still clenched tightly between his grubby fingers.
"Now, how the hell would the likes of you know the Pharaoh's sister on sight?" He demanded, curiosity coloring his words.
Cail refused to meet Bakura's gaze, eyes darting around the alley wildly in the hopes of some escape to suddenly present itself to him. Unfortunately, no such escape was in ready supply and Bakura was growing impatient. Grabbing Cail's patched shirtfront, Bakura picked him up and slammed him against a wall, his grip on the shirt tightening and the cloth around Cail's neck tightening uncomfortably.
"Okay, okay!" he spluttered, hands yanking desperately on Bakura's firm grip. "I ... I was in Cairo not that long ago and, well, I saw her when the Pharaoh was making some announcement that was real important. I wasn't really listening - there were other, more important things, that I was doing at the time."
Bakura snorted, releasing his grip from Cail's shirt and stepping backwards. "You mean you were picking pockets."
Cail colored slightly, a glare crossing his face. "I only do what I have to. It's just a part time thing, anyhow. 'S not like I was intending to try making a living from it or anything."
His flush darkened considerably at Bakura's derisive laughter, knowing full well that the latter had never had to stoop to such means to get his next meal. But then, Bakura was in possession of . certain talents . that put him above the rest. Cail didn't know how he did it, he just knew that no wall or guard had ever seemed to stand in the way of something Bakura had wanted.
"Yes, well, that still doesn't explain the how of your knowledge of who she is."
"She was there." He spat, looking to the girl in mild interest. "Standing right next to him, arrogant as she is now, and looking for all the world like she'd rather be anywhere else."
Bakura's head turned marginally in the girl's direction, one eyebrow raised slightly. Her head raised further, if possible, and the frosty look took on an air of anger, a flush barely discernable on her dark cheeks.
Bakura tapped his chin thoughtfully, one arm folded over his chest as he stared contemplatively from Lyanna to Cail. "Do you think anyone else might recognize her?" he asked finally, breaking the long stretch of silence that had been steadily growing.
Cail shrugged indifferently, shaking his head slightly. "They will or they won't; your guess is as good as mine. I'll tell you one thing though. No one is gonna believe that the girl is anything but a royal in clothes like that. You'll have to get her something new - as soon as you can - or else people are going to start getting suspicious."
Bakura snorted, surveying the girl from head to toe. "Yes, well, the silk should fetch a fair enough price after all the trouble she's put me through so far. Messed up a perfectly good haul."
Cail winced in sympathy. "Slave markets wont be opening up again for a few weeks. That should leave you with plenty of time to get her something else, come up with convincing papers or whatever it is they want nowadays. Use to be you could just show up with someone to sell." He shook his head slowly, a reminiscent look to his face.
He started abruptly, looking around in resumed anxiety. "Wh-what about her brother? Not the most ... forgiving ... of people." Cail swallowed thickly, reminiscence replaced with fear.
"Never worry about that." Bakura replied shortly, waving the matter away with a hand. "Yami probably has yet to realize she's gone."
"That's a lie!" Lyanna snapped suddenly, hands done by her sides and clenched in anger as she glared at Bakura, eyes sparking.
Bakura merely spared a cursory glance in her direction, his mouth twitching with amusement. "Is that so? Tell me, *princess *, how important do you think you really are? Females, as you obviously must know, are of little to no value except in their ability to produce heirs. One mere little girl, *highness *, is not going to matter to the Pharaoh of all Egypt and its providence's. You are, simply put, worthless."
Lyanna's mouth fell open, lips working briefly in an attempt to say something more. However, no cutting remark or heated reply left her. She merely stared up at him, wide eyed and suddenly speechless as he turned back to Cail without a backwards glance.
Sinking in on herself, Lyanna felt, for the first time so far, hopeless. Up until now, the firm knowledge that her brother would come for her had been like her own private salvation, despite the looming threat of being sold like little more than an animal. But now...
Bakura's words had made it come crashing home. Hadn't Yami tried to shove her off on some other country, give her away in order to gain more personal power? Much as she hated to believe it, there was no denying the facts when he had laid them out so clearly. It was true; women were thought of as a nuisance at the best of times, a soon to be dealt with annoyance.
"Come on, you. I'll be leaving you with Cail momentarily; have to get those Ra damned clothes for you."
Lyanna started as Bakura hauled her upwards roughly, a spark of anger still burning despite his earlier words. Clinging to her earlier hope like a man dying of thirst to a pitcher of water, Lyanna followed behind in mock submission, much like she had been required to do when at court, or anywhere near those of any real importance.
Yami would come for her; he would.
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Seito, High Priest of Anubis, ordained to his station by the holy priests of Anubis' Order, was not a happy man. Not only had his moron of a cousin insisted on having him woken in the middle of the night, he had insisted on keeping him near to help in the ridiculous search for his half-wit of a sister. It wasn't *his * problem if she just up and disappeared, why should *he * loose sleep if she was gone?
Bits of the slaves memorized message drifted through his sleepy haze, but he did not need to hear much in order to catch the gist of what he was saying. Lyanna was gone, still no clue where the hell she was, Yami was increasingly mad. No change yet.
Rubbing eyes that were struggling to keep themselves open with tired fingers, Seito made a sharp cutting gesture to stop the slaves frightened report. Yami had long since left to continue somewhere else and keep anyone outside the palace from knowing of the girls' disappearance. He had left the oh-so-lovely task of gathering reports up to his cousin, never thinking that others just might need sleep every now and then in order to function sanely. Just because *he * thought he could go three days with no rest, did not mean others were possessed of the same ability.
"That will be quite enough." He said sharply, not really caring that his tone was likely to set the slaves nerves further on edge than they probably already where; after all, he was just a slave. "I believe I can figure out the rest by myself." Of course, anyone with any amount of brainpower would have been able to. Sister missing, plus no clue where she was, equaled very pissy Pharaoh. Simple enough.
"You have been ... helpful ... in your own way, I'm sure. Now go."
Seito sank back into his chair as the slave all but ran for the door, pausing only to throw it open and close it once more before taking off at a run for whatever pointless task it was that he did. He was allowed only a few moments rest, however, before another slave opened the door to his private chambers timidly, poking his head through first before his body followed the rest of the way.
"You have been summoned to the Pharaoh's audience room, and are to be there as soon as possible." He said, speaking in a hurried voice and sketching a quick bow after almost every word.
Eyes snapping open, Seito rose slowly from his chair and stalked across the room, wishing devoutly to strangle someone. Perhaps it could be overlooked as some sort of sacrifice to Anubis.
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Dueljewl: Meh, there it is. Crappy as it all was, that's what you're going to have to deal with till I can get the fourth chapter out. Expect some more turbulence between the Bakura and Lyanna before anything more happens. Hope you got some small measure of enjoyment from my crappy fic, lol. ^___^
So, to all of you, I owe a massive sorry, and a thank you to those of you still reading this god forsaken fic.
I had a few questions, so I guess I better clear that up. For those of you reading the manga, think of this between when Bakura stole Yami's father's mummy and before that whole showdown with the gods and Diabound (sp?). Bakura's role would be the Thief King we all know and love from the manga, so there will be some times where I mention that.
Yami would be Yugi's other half, I just didn't know at the time that I wrote this what his real name was during the whole Egypt part of his life. So sorry to any of those people I may have confused; I was only going off of what I had from other fics. (Which probably wasn't the best thing to do hehehe.)
So, if there are any more questions, just tell me in your reviews. Once again, I am soooo sorry about the humongous delay between updates; hopefully that will change soon.
*stuff* = italics (my computer isn't working right at the moment)
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"Cail, h -"
That was as far as he got before Cail backward in his chair, screaming.
Furrowing his eyebrows in displeasure, Bakura walked calmly to where Cail currently lay sprawled on the ground, a forgotten cup of brandy clutched in his left hand, the contents splashed across his front. Oily brown hair falling across his face, Cail peered up at the Thief King, fear and anger mixing in his murky brown eyes. Bending down to hoist Cail up by his worn shirtfront, Bakura smiled crookedly as he straightened to his full height, topping Cail by a head.
"Now, now, that's not how we great friends, is it?"
"Friends? Friends! Last time I saw you I had half my *ass* bitten off!"
Frowning, Bakura thought back to the incident. "It was only a small bite. The crocodiles really have been severely underfed; it was just doing what was in its nature."
"Small? I couldn't walk for months!"
"The price you pay for success my friend, though it seems you haven't been having much since last I saw you."
And in all truth, Bakura's observation was correct. The ends of Cail's baggy linen trousers were well worn, the knees threadbare, and his shirt so overly patched hardly any of the initial garment remained.
Rubbing a hand through his greasy hair, Cail's narrowed eyes focused on the floor just in front of his sandled toes. "Yeah, well, not all of us have your particular... skills."
"Speaking of skills," Bakura started, grabbing behind him for Lyanna's arm and pulling her next to him roughly, "how much do you think we could get for her?"
Of all the reactions Bakura would have expected from Cail - eyes lighting up with greed at the prospect of a good sell, ogling the girl for whatever feminine charms she might have possessed - the one he got was not one of them.
Instead of staring quite noticeably like he usually did when he saw a woman of any semblance of beauty, Cail yelped, leaping backwards a few feet and clutching the cup to his chest like a talisman against some form of evil. His eyes looked like they were about to pop from his head as he stared anxiously around the room, eyes darting from the girl, to Bakura, and back around the room again. Mouth working in a silent litany, Cail slowly crept closer, staying as far from Lyanna as he could and still speak to Bakura.
"What." he paused to lick lips suddenly gone dry, eyes still round as saucers. "What in the name of all that is holy and good do you think you're doing with... with her?!"
"Like I said, how much do you think we could get for her?" Bakura questioned once more, one eyebrow raised in silent amusement at Cail's rather unusual display of nerves. He scanned the room nonchalantly, noting that none of the few occupants had noticed a thing, and were unlikely to notice anything except the inside of their cups for some time.
Lyanna, having been silent up until this point, now chose to speak. Which, for Bakura, was quite possibly her most annoying choice so far.
"Did you ever stop to think," she started acidly, glaring up at Bakura, "that other's might actually recognize someone from the ruling family? Just because you're too incompetent to see it, doesn't mean that other's wont."
Bakura winced, looking around the room quickly to see if anyone had overheard. Of course, the girl had had enough sense to keep her voice low, but you could never be too sure. Cail, suspicions confirmed, let out an odd sounding squeak, face draining of all color. He looked from Lyanna to Bakura, mouth once more working silently. This time, however, Bakura felt like he was trying to scream instead of get out any real words.
"You ... you ki-kidnapped ... the Ph-ph-pharaohs'... little sister?" The sentence finally came out, broken and breathy though it was.
Taking Cail's arm in one hand and Lyanna's in the other, Bakura dragged them both from the room. This was not the place for such conversations. Heading out the door, Bakura wasn't surprised when no one noticed their departure, just as no one had noticed their entrance and the rather odd display that had followed. Bakura looked up and down the street warily, still pulling the two along behind him despite Lyanna's attempts at struggling free of him. He did not release them again until they had entered a small, darkened alleyway, though his hand hovered close to Lyanna's arm in case she decided to try and bolt.
Lyanna's arms folded across her chest stubbornly, her head held high in that annoyingly arrogant way she had. She regarded Bakura from narrowed violet eyes, a frosty set to her features. Bakura, resolutely ignoring her, rounded on Cail, watching as the slightly shorter man shifted uneasily, the cup from earlier still clenched tightly between his grubby fingers.
"Now, how the hell would the likes of you know the Pharaoh's sister on sight?" He demanded, curiosity coloring his words.
Cail refused to meet Bakura's gaze, eyes darting around the alley wildly in the hopes of some escape to suddenly present itself to him. Unfortunately, no such escape was in ready supply and Bakura was growing impatient. Grabbing Cail's patched shirtfront, Bakura picked him up and slammed him against a wall, his grip on the shirt tightening and the cloth around Cail's neck tightening uncomfortably.
"Okay, okay!" he spluttered, hands yanking desperately on Bakura's firm grip. "I ... I was in Cairo not that long ago and, well, I saw her when the Pharaoh was making some announcement that was real important. I wasn't really listening - there were other, more important things, that I was doing at the time."
Bakura snorted, releasing his grip from Cail's shirt and stepping backwards. "You mean you were picking pockets."
Cail colored slightly, a glare crossing his face. "I only do what I have to. It's just a part time thing, anyhow. 'S not like I was intending to try making a living from it or anything."
His flush darkened considerably at Bakura's derisive laughter, knowing full well that the latter had never had to stoop to such means to get his next meal. But then, Bakura was in possession of . certain talents . that put him above the rest. Cail didn't know how he did it, he just knew that no wall or guard had ever seemed to stand in the way of something Bakura had wanted.
"Yes, well, that still doesn't explain the how of your knowledge of who she is."
"She was there." He spat, looking to the girl in mild interest. "Standing right next to him, arrogant as she is now, and looking for all the world like she'd rather be anywhere else."
Bakura's head turned marginally in the girl's direction, one eyebrow raised slightly. Her head raised further, if possible, and the frosty look took on an air of anger, a flush barely discernable on her dark cheeks.
Bakura tapped his chin thoughtfully, one arm folded over his chest as he stared contemplatively from Lyanna to Cail. "Do you think anyone else might recognize her?" he asked finally, breaking the long stretch of silence that had been steadily growing.
Cail shrugged indifferently, shaking his head slightly. "They will or they won't; your guess is as good as mine. I'll tell you one thing though. No one is gonna believe that the girl is anything but a royal in clothes like that. You'll have to get her something new - as soon as you can - or else people are going to start getting suspicious."
Bakura snorted, surveying the girl from head to toe. "Yes, well, the silk should fetch a fair enough price after all the trouble she's put me through so far. Messed up a perfectly good haul."
Cail winced in sympathy. "Slave markets wont be opening up again for a few weeks. That should leave you with plenty of time to get her something else, come up with convincing papers or whatever it is they want nowadays. Use to be you could just show up with someone to sell." He shook his head slowly, a reminiscent look to his face.
He started abruptly, looking around in resumed anxiety. "Wh-what about her brother? Not the most ... forgiving ... of people." Cail swallowed thickly, reminiscence replaced with fear.
"Never worry about that." Bakura replied shortly, waving the matter away with a hand. "Yami probably has yet to realize she's gone."
"That's a lie!" Lyanna snapped suddenly, hands done by her sides and clenched in anger as she glared at Bakura, eyes sparking.
Bakura merely spared a cursory glance in her direction, his mouth twitching with amusement. "Is that so? Tell me, *princess *, how important do you think you really are? Females, as you obviously must know, are of little to no value except in their ability to produce heirs. One mere little girl, *highness *, is not going to matter to the Pharaoh of all Egypt and its providence's. You are, simply put, worthless."
Lyanna's mouth fell open, lips working briefly in an attempt to say something more. However, no cutting remark or heated reply left her. She merely stared up at him, wide eyed and suddenly speechless as he turned back to Cail without a backwards glance.
Sinking in on herself, Lyanna felt, for the first time so far, hopeless. Up until now, the firm knowledge that her brother would come for her had been like her own private salvation, despite the looming threat of being sold like little more than an animal. But now...
Bakura's words had made it come crashing home. Hadn't Yami tried to shove her off on some other country, give her away in order to gain more personal power? Much as she hated to believe it, there was no denying the facts when he had laid them out so clearly. It was true; women were thought of as a nuisance at the best of times, a soon to be dealt with annoyance.
"Come on, you. I'll be leaving you with Cail momentarily; have to get those Ra damned clothes for you."
Lyanna started as Bakura hauled her upwards roughly, a spark of anger still burning despite his earlier words. Clinging to her earlier hope like a man dying of thirst to a pitcher of water, Lyanna followed behind in mock submission, much like she had been required to do when at court, or anywhere near those of any real importance.
Yami would come for her; he would.
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Seito, High Priest of Anubis, ordained to his station by the holy priests of Anubis' Order, was not a happy man. Not only had his moron of a cousin insisted on having him woken in the middle of the night, he had insisted on keeping him near to help in the ridiculous search for his half-wit of a sister. It wasn't *his * problem if she just up and disappeared, why should *he * loose sleep if she was gone?
Bits of the slaves memorized message drifted through his sleepy haze, but he did not need to hear much in order to catch the gist of what he was saying. Lyanna was gone, still no clue where the hell she was, Yami was increasingly mad. No change yet.
Rubbing eyes that were struggling to keep themselves open with tired fingers, Seito made a sharp cutting gesture to stop the slaves frightened report. Yami had long since left to continue somewhere else and keep anyone outside the palace from knowing of the girls' disappearance. He had left the oh-so-lovely task of gathering reports up to his cousin, never thinking that others just might need sleep every now and then in order to function sanely. Just because *he * thought he could go three days with no rest, did not mean others were possessed of the same ability.
"That will be quite enough." He said sharply, not really caring that his tone was likely to set the slaves nerves further on edge than they probably already where; after all, he was just a slave. "I believe I can figure out the rest by myself." Of course, anyone with any amount of brainpower would have been able to. Sister missing, plus no clue where she was, equaled very pissy Pharaoh. Simple enough.
"You have been ... helpful ... in your own way, I'm sure. Now go."
Seito sank back into his chair as the slave all but ran for the door, pausing only to throw it open and close it once more before taking off at a run for whatever pointless task it was that he did. He was allowed only a few moments rest, however, before another slave opened the door to his private chambers timidly, poking his head through first before his body followed the rest of the way.
"You have been summoned to the Pharaoh's audience room, and are to be there as soon as possible." He said, speaking in a hurried voice and sketching a quick bow after almost every word.
Eyes snapping open, Seito rose slowly from his chair and stalked across the room, wishing devoutly to strangle someone. Perhaps it could be overlooked as some sort of sacrifice to Anubis.
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Dueljewl: Meh, there it is. Crappy as it all was, that's what you're going to have to deal with till I can get the fourth chapter out. Expect some more turbulence between the Bakura and Lyanna before anything more happens. Hope you got some small measure of enjoyment from my crappy fic, lol. ^___^