Chapter Seven: Healings
Bakura sank to his knees in the snow, ignoring the cold that shot through his body. He stared at Yami's body, lying deserted in the now-empty street. His emotional dam broke and tears raced down his frozen face. Letting more tears slip, he dashed to Yami's side.
"Yami? No, Yami, you can't be dead. It isn't possible. Please, don't leave me!" he cried. "I never got to tell you how much I.....I.....love you."
He lifted Yami's up so that it was close to his own. Tears still streaking their way down his face, Bakura pressed his lips gently to Yami's.
Yami's lips were still warm. He was alive, but barely.
Bakura carefully picked up Yami's limp body and ran to the nearest house. To his luck, it was empty and held everything he needed.
Guessing that horses would have a hard time in the snow, he figured he needed a different form of transportation through the waves of snow. Old memories of his life came back to him. The people who had helped him survive in the mountains had taught him a few tricks. They had called them 'sleds' and 'snowshoes'.
Bakura found a few misshapen wooden planks, assorted nails and a couple severed ropes in the shed behind the stone house. He set Yami close by him, in the corner of the shed and covered him with the red cloak. Then he began to build, his mind straining to remember what he had been taught.
The sun had passed the horizon when Bakura finally finished his work, producing a rough sled for Yami and a pair of snowshoes for himself. Under the cover of darkness, Bakura snuck back into the empty house. Mindful not to disturb anything, he found a few blankets along with a few provisions for their journey.
He carried his findings back outside to the waiting sled and dumped them on the back. Organizing the items carefully by size, he used a bit of leftover rope to attach them to the wood. The last thing to be put on the sled was Yami. Bakura made sure that Yami was warm and secure to the sled before accepting his work.
Strapping on the snowshoes, he looped the sled's rope around his waist and started off as the sun was beginning to rise.
Bakura struggled through the snow for three days, stopping only to feed Yami and himself or to stop for the night. He would stop after the sun had long since left the sky and prepared to leave before the sun had shown its light.
On the morning of the fourth day, a large dark object peaked on the horizon. It was a cliff. And if Bakura was right, his home was along that sheer wall of rock. A relieved sigh escaped from the thief's mouth as he continued his struggles through the snow.
The two of them reached the cliff around midday as the sun climbed higher. It didn't take Bakura long to locate the small, now frozen, oasis.
The reed door to Bakura's home had prevented any snow from entering the snug abode behind it, but in the meantime, it had frozen shut. Bakura was working at prying the reeds away from the stone when Yami woke up.
"Bakura?" he whispered in a weak voice. "Bakura, where are you?"
Bakura hastily dropped his tool, a simple piece of wood, and ran to where Yami was lying between a few frozen bushes.
"I'm here, Yami. Don't fuss, I'm right here," Bakura reassured. Yami's crimson orbs were dull, but they showed contentment. Yami gave a small smile and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep.
Bakura returned to the stubborn door, finally breaking through it. Everything was how he had left it. Taking a blanket from the stack in the corner, he spread it out over the cold mat. He went back outside and gathered up Yami.
Once the frail prince had been settled under a few more blankets, Bakura used some of the spare wood from the back of the sled to start a fire. He left the sled intact. He might still need it.
He took the skinned hares and cut them into chunks. Tossing the raw meat into a clay pot over the flames, he added handfuls of snow and a few herbs for seasoning.
Soon the tangy smell of stew filled the tiny cave, the fire giving the walls a cheery glow. It truly felt like home to Bakura. Once he had finished the stew, Bakura moved the pot off the heat and set it to the side to cool. He then took one of the smaller pots and put it over the fire. After adding a fistful of snow into that pot, he wandered over to the back of the cave.
A hidden crevice in the stone held a medium sized wooden box. Its lid and exterior were chipped and scraped, but Bakura looked passed its shabby outside. Lifting the lid, his eyes glanced over a few, old herbs for healing. Using his finger to push the unimportant leaves aside, he found the desired plant.
It was a small silver leaf. It had been a gift from an old friend. Replacing the lid on the box and the box in the crevice, he held the leaf in front of his face.
'Legends say it possesses the powers to heal anything,' his friend had said. 'It reminded me of you, the color and its abilities. It's extremely hard to find.'
Bakura pushed the memory out of his head and focussed on the task at hand. Crushing the silver foliage in his fist, he opened his fingers and let the flakes descend to the boiling water below.
Taking one of his spoons, he churned the water until the leaves had completely dissolved. The liquid presented a silver complexion.
Bakura took the second pot off the fire and threw some more wood into the consuming flames. He poured the solution from the pot into an argil cup.
'I hope you were right about this leaf, friend. Yami's life depends on it.'
Said prince woke as Bakura sat himself down on the blankets beside him. The look on his face suggested he was surprised to see where they were, but he dismissed it.
Bakura lifted Yami's head onto his lap and tipped the cup to his parted lips. Yami swallowed the mixture, with no sign of protest or complaint. Reaching over to the stew, Bakura filled the cup with stew. Yami gratefully accepted the spoon as it was raised to his mouth and completely finished the contents of the cup.
Yami turned over onto his side and once again fell asleep. Bakura watched as he started to shiver, even with the blazing fire and the extra blankets.
Bakura felt a urging telling him to go lay next to the prince; to hold him and keep him warm. The thief squashed the urge down and turned back to the fire, gazing into its dancing flames. A few moments later, he felt himself give in as he crawled over to where Yami lay. He momentarily pushed back the blankets, allowing himself to clamber under them. Replacing the blankets to their original position, he turned his attention to the sleeping form in front of him.
Yami's skin was burning to the touch; yet he was still shivering, goosebumps covering his pale, soft skin. Bakura felt pity for the prince, even if he didn't have any remorse for those his father had killed. Many of them had been the thief's acquaintances, but in the attempt to catch Bakura, they had been hanged. But maybe now that he had met Bakura, his feeling would change.
Bakura yawned and wrapped his arms tightly around Yami's slender form. As his forelimbs settled, Yami immediately stopped shivering and relaxed into Bakura's embrace.
Dias: Well, how was that? We now know how Bakura feels about Yami.
Dark Dias: Tomatoes are good...
Dias: O.o; Okay, then. Whatever. I hope everyone liked it, this next week should be full of updates due to my one year anniversary as a fanfic writer! Hurray! Well, only if I can get them typed up. Byez!
Dark Dias: Yummy, LEAVE A REVIEW FOR DIAS AND A TOMATO FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!!
Dias: Oh dear.
Bakura sank to his knees in the snow, ignoring the cold that shot through his body. He stared at Yami's body, lying deserted in the now-empty street. His emotional dam broke and tears raced down his frozen face. Letting more tears slip, he dashed to Yami's side.
"Yami? No, Yami, you can't be dead. It isn't possible. Please, don't leave me!" he cried. "I never got to tell you how much I.....I.....love you."
He lifted Yami's up so that it was close to his own. Tears still streaking their way down his face, Bakura pressed his lips gently to Yami's.
Yami's lips were still warm. He was alive, but barely.
Bakura carefully picked up Yami's limp body and ran to the nearest house. To his luck, it was empty and held everything he needed.
Guessing that horses would have a hard time in the snow, he figured he needed a different form of transportation through the waves of snow. Old memories of his life came back to him. The people who had helped him survive in the mountains had taught him a few tricks. They had called them 'sleds' and 'snowshoes'.
Bakura found a few misshapen wooden planks, assorted nails and a couple severed ropes in the shed behind the stone house. He set Yami close by him, in the corner of the shed and covered him with the red cloak. Then he began to build, his mind straining to remember what he had been taught.
The sun had passed the horizon when Bakura finally finished his work, producing a rough sled for Yami and a pair of snowshoes for himself. Under the cover of darkness, Bakura snuck back into the empty house. Mindful not to disturb anything, he found a few blankets along with a few provisions for their journey.
He carried his findings back outside to the waiting sled and dumped them on the back. Organizing the items carefully by size, he used a bit of leftover rope to attach them to the wood. The last thing to be put on the sled was Yami. Bakura made sure that Yami was warm and secure to the sled before accepting his work.
Strapping on the snowshoes, he looped the sled's rope around his waist and started off as the sun was beginning to rise.
Bakura struggled through the snow for three days, stopping only to feed Yami and himself or to stop for the night. He would stop after the sun had long since left the sky and prepared to leave before the sun had shown its light.
On the morning of the fourth day, a large dark object peaked on the horizon. It was a cliff. And if Bakura was right, his home was along that sheer wall of rock. A relieved sigh escaped from the thief's mouth as he continued his struggles through the snow.
The two of them reached the cliff around midday as the sun climbed higher. It didn't take Bakura long to locate the small, now frozen, oasis.
The reed door to Bakura's home had prevented any snow from entering the snug abode behind it, but in the meantime, it had frozen shut. Bakura was working at prying the reeds away from the stone when Yami woke up.
"Bakura?" he whispered in a weak voice. "Bakura, where are you?"
Bakura hastily dropped his tool, a simple piece of wood, and ran to where Yami was lying between a few frozen bushes.
"I'm here, Yami. Don't fuss, I'm right here," Bakura reassured. Yami's crimson orbs were dull, but they showed contentment. Yami gave a small smile and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep.
Bakura returned to the stubborn door, finally breaking through it. Everything was how he had left it. Taking a blanket from the stack in the corner, he spread it out over the cold mat. He went back outside and gathered up Yami.
Once the frail prince had been settled under a few more blankets, Bakura used some of the spare wood from the back of the sled to start a fire. He left the sled intact. He might still need it.
He took the skinned hares and cut them into chunks. Tossing the raw meat into a clay pot over the flames, he added handfuls of snow and a few herbs for seasoning.
Soon the tangy smell of stew filled the tiny cave, the fire giving the walls a cheery glow. It truly felt like home to Bakura. Once he had finished the stew, Bakura moved the pot off the heat and set it to the side to cool. He then took one of the smaller pots and put it over the fire. After adding a fistful of snow into that pot, he wandered over to the back of the cave.
A hidden crevice in the stone held a medium sized wooden box. Its lid and exterior were chipped and scraped, but Bakura looked passed its shabby outside. Lifting the lid, his eyes glanced over a few, old herbs for healing. Using his finger to push the unimportant leaves aside, he found the desired plant.
It was a small silver leaf. It had been a gift from an old friend. Replacing the lid on the box and the box in the crevice, he held the leaf in front of his face.
'Legends say it possesses the powers to heal anything,' his friend had said. 'It reminded me of you, the color and its abilities. It's extremely hard to find.'
Bakura pushed the memory out of his head and focussed on the task at hand. Crushing the silver foliage in his fist, he opened his fingers and let the flakes descend to the boiling water below.
Taking one of his spoons, he churned the water until the leaves had completely dissolved. The liquid presented a silver complexion.
Bakura took the second pot off the fire and threw some more wood into the consuming flames. He poured the solution from the pot into an argil cup.
'I hope you were right about this leaf, friend. Yami's life depends on it.'
Said prince woke as Bakura sat himself down on the blankets beside him. The look on his face suggested he was surprised to see where they were, but he dismissed it.
Bakura lifted Yami's head onto his lap and tipped the cup to his parted lips. Yami swallowed the mixture, with no sign of protest or complaint. Reaching over to the stew, Bakura filled the cup with stew. Yami gratefully accepted the spoon as it was raised to his mouth and completely finished the contents of the cup.
Yami turned over onto his side and once again fell asleep. Bakura watched as he started to shiver, even with the blazing fire and the extra blankets.
Bakura felt a urging telling him to go lay next to the prince; to hold him and keep him warm. The thief squashed the urge down and turned back to the fire, gazing into its dancing flames. A few moments later, he felt himself give in as he crawled over to where Yami lay. He momentarily pushed back the blankets, allowing himself to clamber under them. Replacing the blankets to their original position, he turned his attention to the sleeping form in front of him.
Yami's skin was burning to the touch; yet he was still shivering, goosebumps covering his pale, soft skin. Bakura felt pity for the prince, even if he didn't have any remorse for those his father had killed. Many of them had been the thief's acquaintances, but in the attempt to catch Bakura, they had been hanged. But maybe now that he had met Bakura, his feeling would change.
Bakura yawned and wrapped his arms tightly around Yami's slender form. As his forelimbs settled, Yami immediately stopped shivering and relaxed into Bakura's embrace.
Dias: Well, how was that? We now know how Bakura feels about Yami.
Dark Dias: Tomatoes are good...
Dias: O.o; Okay, then. Whatever. I hope everyone liked it, this next week should be full of updates due to my one year anniversary as a fanfic writer! Hurray! Well, only if I can get them typed up. Byez!
Dark Dias: Yummy, LEAVE A REVIEW FOR DIAS AND A TOMATO FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!!
Dias: Oh dear.