A Weakness
A/N: mmmkay before we begin the party, let me just say I make the Pharaoh (aka Yami Yugi but I call him Atemu) out to be rather mean =( I have nothing against him, but I needed an antagonist! So no flames for that please and thanks.
Chapter 2
Marik woke with his head resting in a woman's lap. He looked blearily up at her. "I-Isis?" He croaked.
"Oh thank the gods, you're awake." She smiled sympathetically at him. She dabbed the wound on his shoulder with a damp cloth. She dipped the cloth in a clay basin of water and wrung it out.
"D-Dammit..." Marik rubbed his head with hand. "How long have I been asleep?"
"About seven hours." Isis replied.
He grabbed Isis' arm, "He didn't...He didn't get away, did he?"
Isis looked away from his eyes. "Yes...He did." She uttered quietly.
"No..." Marik shut his eyes, gripping his shoulder in a spasm of pain. "I'll get him, that bastard. And bring back the Rod, too." /I'll uphold my family's honour, even if it kills me./
Isis shook her head. "No, Marik. The Pharaoh will surely kill you. And once he finds out what you did to his servant then he'll come after all of us."
"How did you know he worked for the Pharaoh?" Marik raised his eyebrows at her.
She just smiled and continued to clean his wounds. When she was done she placed the cloth in the basin, and stood, shifting Marik's head to the pillow. "As soon as you are strong enough, we will take our leave of Egypt. The Pharaoh's men will come to kill us any day now."
"NO!" Marik sat up, his head reeling with pain. "You and Shadi can go ahead and run with your tails between your legs but I will stay and fight to the death!"
"Marik, just lay down. You need to rest." She said calmly, though Marik could see the panic behind her eyes. She gently pushed him back down on the straw mattress and left the room.
Marik hauled himself up to his feet. He grabbed for his tunic hanging on the back of the chair and ripped a strip from the hem. He wound the strip under his armpit and around his wounded shoulder and secured it with a knot. Then he pulled his tunic on with his good arm.
He pressed his ear against the door of his chamber, listening for footsteps in the hall outside. He quickly gathered up what provisions he could find in his room – some stale bread, a flask of water, his cloak, his dagger and a short sword. He tied the weapons and flask to his belt and carried the rest outside. The family horse was tied in the shadow of the pyramid. He shoved his bread and cloak in the saddlebags and painfully swung abroad the horse's back. He spurred her to a trot, then canter, leaving the valley behind.
It didn't take long for Marik to find Bakura's trail of blood. With the wound he had given Bakura, it wouldn't be very far until he came across the body. The sun sank lower in the sky as the deposits of blood in the sand grew thicker and he could make out places where Bakura had stumbled. About half a league away from the valley and another league to the palace, Marik looked ahead to a sand dune and saw dead Bakura lying there on his back. At first Marik thought he was waving to him, but then realized that it was just his cloak lifted by the wind.
Marik pulled the horse up near the body and slid off her back. He spotted the Rod lying near Bakura and stooped to pick it up.
"Pharaoh...My Pharaoh?" Bakura croaked, one hand reaching out unsteadily in Marik's general direction.
"Huh?" Marik stared at Bakura in disbelief. Bakura coughed and blood ran in rivulets from the corners of his mouth. His abdomen was soaked with blood and the sand around him was clumped with the stuff. "You're not dead yet?!" Marik cried incredulously. "FUCK!"
"Marik??" Bakura stared at him, though barely able to see. "My Pharaoh hasn't come to retrieve me..."
"Nope." Marik returned to his horse and tied the Rod to the saddle.
"Where ... is he?" Bakura licked his own blood on his teeth. "Atemu..."
"Oh, he's probably lounging on his silk covered ass up at the palace with some concubine riding his cock." Marik shrugged and walked a few steps closer to Bakura to survey him.
"He is not coming after me? Isn't he worried about where I am?" Bakura's pupils were so small they didn't seem to be there as he stared up, unseeing, at the pink heavens.
"He probably thinks you're dead." Marik offered.
"No..." Bakura said, clearly dismayed. Marik thought he heard him sob half-heartedly. "I thought....he has to care................I was used. I was fucking used. No, no...my beloved...."
Wait. Wait. WAIT. Bakura was in LOVE with the Pharaoh? "What the...FUCK?!" Marik shot him a disgusted look, even though Bakura wasn't paying attention to him.
Marik made sure is belongings were secure in his saddlebags. He was about to climb abroad again, but hesitated when he saw swirling, brown clouds blistering over the sand, not too far away. The wind whipped his hair around his face and the horse whinnied shrilly. "My gods..." Marik muttered.
"There's a sandstorm coming, eh!" Bakura called to him.
"I can see that, you idiot!" Marik impatiently kicked sand at him. He growled and spun around, desperately looking for a shelter, rocks, anything he could dive behind. THERE! His eyes locked onto a group of rocks a short distance away, one of them large enough to protect him from the wind and blowing sand that was stinging as painfully as scorpions. Marik grabbed the reins of his horse and dragged Bakura up by collar of his tunic and hauled them both over to the rock.
"W-what are you doing?" Bakura waved his arms at him. "Let me die! I don't wanna go on without my Pharaoh!"
"SHADDUP!" Marik gave him a shake. "I'm not letting you be killed by some natural disaster; if you're going to die, it's going to be at my hand!" His horse spooked and reared, Marik lost his grip on the reins and she galloped away. "Get back here! Godammit!" Marik could hardly hear himself over the roar of the incoming storm. He threw Bakura down behind the rock and flopped down beside him. He wrapped his ratty cloak around himself; night was falling and he was practically freezing in the harsh wind. Bakura sidled up to him for warmth. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Marik glared down at the silver head.
Bakura looked up at him with simpering eyes. "I don't like storms." He said.
Marik scoffed, "There's nothing to be afraid of-" But when the 200m/h winds hit them and the air turned dark and thick with sand they both latched onto each other and screamed.
"Damn, there goes the horse." Bakura said, muffled in Marik's shoulder, after their screams had died down. He sounded quite amused.
"Shut. Up." Marik gritted out.
The storm didn't last more than half an hour; Bakura passed out from blood loss before it ended. Marik started to feel sleepy and he figured he wasn't going anywhere soon so he pulled up his hood and drifted slowly into sleep.
Marik woke up with sand in his eyes, ears, mouth and every crevice of his body. At first, he thought it was yet night from the large shadow falling over him. He rubbed sand from his eyes and realised the shadow was of a tall, black Arabian stallion standing over him. "What the..." His gaze followed up the finely clothed leg of its rider to his hip, chest and spiky head. "Pharaoh!!" "Tomb guard." Atemu answered lazily. He then turned to the mounted army behind him. "You!" He brandished his sword towards the man on his right. "Fetch the boy and tie him up...We'll be taking him along." He turned and ordered about half of the men to continue on to Marik's pyramid. "Kill both of the other guards and loot the place entirely. Kill anyone who stands in the way or witnesses this." The soldiers kicked their horses on and rode away to follow out their orders.
Marik struggled with the soldier that had been order to bind him. "Get offa me!" Marik kicked him in the jaw and rolled away. The Pharaoh growled at his soldier's incompetence, sliding off his horse, came up behind Marik and banged him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Marik blacked out and fell into the sand. The soldier dragged him by his cloak and tied a rope around Marik's waist and the other end to the back of his saddle.
The Pharaoh casually walked towards Bakura (who is thoroughly almost- dead at this point), crouched and checked his pulse. It was slow and faint, but it was there. The Pharaoh scooped him up in his arms with delicate care and carried him to his horse. He slid him over the saddle and mounted behind him. A soldier helped Bakura into a sitting position; he slumped against Atemu's chest. They set off, towards the Pharaoh's palace.
End of chapter
a/n...oh crap. Sorry people for the HUUUGE delay in getting this up (it's been what almost 5 months...and I said a few days . geez) so thank you very very much for the comments. I love you guys :P Oh yeah I promise there will be smut in the next chapter XD even if it takes half a year to write, I'll get it in there XD
A/N: mmmkay before we begin the party, let me just say I make the Pharaoh (aka Yami Yugi but I call him Atemu) out to be rather mean =( I have nothing against him, but I needed an antagonist! So no flames for that please and thanks.
Chapter 2
Marik woke with his head resting in a woman's lap. He looked blearily up at her. "I-Isis?" He croaked.
"Oh thank the gods, you're awake." She smiled sympathetically at him. She dabbed the wound on his shoulder with a damp cloth. She dipped the cloth in a clay basin of water and wrung it out.
"D-Dammit..." Marik rubbed his head with hand. "How long have I been asleep?"
"About seven hours." Isis replied.
He grabbed Isis' arm, "He didn't...He didn't get away, did he?"
Isis looked away from his eyes. "Yes...He did." She uttered quietly.
"No..." Marik shut his eyes, gripping his shoulder in a spasm of pain. "I'll get him, that bastard. And bring back the Rod, too." /I'll uphold my family's honour, even if it kills me./
Isis shook her head. "No, Marik. The Pharaoh will surely kill you. And once he finds out what you did to his servant then he'll come after all of us."
"How did you know he worked for the Pharaoh?" Marik raised his eyebrows at her.
She just smiled and continued to clean his wounds. When she was done she placed the cloth in the basin, and stood, shifting Marik's head to the pillow. "As soon as you are strong enough, we will take our leave of Egypt. The Pharaoh's men will come to kill us any day now."
"NO!" Marik sat up, his head reeling with pain. "You and Shadi can go ahead and run with your tails between your legs but I will stay and fight to the death!"
"Marik, just lay down. You need to rest." She said calmly, though Marik could see the panic behind her eyes. She gently pushed him back down on the straw mattress and left the room.
Marik hauled himself up to his feet. He grabbed for his tunic hanging on the back of the chair and ripped a strip from the hem. He wound the strip under his armpit and around his wounded shoulder and secured it with a knot. Then he pulled his tunic on with his good arm.
He pressed his ear against the door of his chamber, listening for footsteps in the hall outside. He quickly gathered up what provisions he could find in his room – some stale bread, a flask of water, his cloak, his dagger and a short sword. He tied the weapons and flask to his belt and carried the rest outside. The family horse was tied in the shadow of the pyramid. He shoved his bread and cloak in the saddlebags and painfully swung abroad the horse's back. He spurred her to a trot, then canter, leaving the valley behind.
It didn't take long for Marik to find Bakura's trail of blood. With the wound he had given Bakura, it wouldn't be very far until he came across the body. The sun sank lower in the sky as the deposits of blood in the sand grew thicker and he could make out places where Bakura had stumbled. About half a league away from the valley and another league to the palace, Marik looked ahead to a sand dune and saw dead Bakura lying there on his back. At first Marik thought he was waving to him, but then realized that it was just his cloak lifted by the wind.
Marik pulled the horse up near the body and slid off her back. He spotted the Rod lying near Bakura and stooped to pick it up.
"Pharaoh...My Pharaoh?" Bakura croaked, one hand reaching out unsteadily in Marik's general direction.
"Huh?" Marik stared at Bakura in disbelief. Bakura coughed and blood ran in rivulets from the corners of his mouth. His abdomen was soaked with blood and the sand around him was clumped with the stuff. "You're not dead yet?!" Marik cried incredulously. "FUCK!"
"Marik??" Bakura stared at him, though barely able to see. "My Pharaoh hasn't come to retrieve me..."
"Nope." Marik returned to his horse and tied the Rod to the saddle.
"Where ... is he?" Bakura licked his own blood on his teeth. "Atemu..."
"Oh, he's probably lounging on his silk covered ass up at the palace with some concubine riding his cock." Marik shrugged and walked a few steps closer to Bakura to survey him.
"He is not coming after me? Isn't he worried about where I am?" Bakura's pupils were so small they didn't seem to be there as he stared up, unseeing, at the pink heavens.
"He probably thinks you're dead." Marik offered.
"No..." Bakura said, clearly dismayed. Marik thought he heard him sob half-heartedly. "I thought....he has to care................I was used. I was fucking used. No, no...my beloved...."
Wait. Wait. WAIT. Bakura was in LOVE with the Pharaoh? "What the...FUCK?!" Marik shot him a disgusted look, even though Bakura wasn't paying attention to him.
Marik made sure is belongings were secure in his saddlebags. He was about to climb abroad again, but hesitated when he saw swirling, brown clouds blistering over the sand, not too far away. The wind whipped his hair around his face and the horse whinnied shrilly. "My gods..." Marik muttered.
"There's a sandstorm coming, eh!" Bakura called to him.
"I can see that, you idiot!" Marik impatiently kicked sand at him. He growled and spun around, desperately looking for a shelter, rocks, anything he could dive behind. THERE! His eyes locked onto a group of rocks a short distance away, one of them large enough to protect him from the wind and blowing sand that was stinging as painfully as scorpions. Marik grabbed the reins of his horse and dragged Bakura up by collar of his tunic and hauled them both over to the rock.
"W-what are you doing?" Bakura waved his arms at him. "Let me die! I don't wanna go on without my Pharaoh!"
"SHADDUP!" Marik gave him a shake. "I'm not letting you be killed by some natural disaster; if you're going to die, it's going to be at my hand!" His horse spooked and reared, Marik lost his grip on the reins and she galloped away. "Get back here! Godammit!" Marik could hardly hear himself over the roar of the incoming storm. He threw Bakura down behind the rock and flopped down beside him. He wrapped his ratty cloak around himself; night was falling and he was practically freezing in the harsh wind. Bakura sidled up to him for warmth. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Marik glared down at the silver head.
Bakura looked up at him with simpering eyes. "I don't like storms." He said.
Marik scoffed, "There's nothing to be afraid of-" But when the 200m/h winds hit them and the air turned dark and thick with sand they both latched onto each other and screamed.
"Damn, there goes the horse." Bakura said, muffled in Marik's shoulder, after their screams had died down. He sounded quite amused.
"Shut. Up." Marik gritted out.
The storm didn't last more than half an hour; Bakura passed out from blood loss before it ended. Marik started to feel sleepy and he figured he wasn't going anywhere soon so he pulled up his hood and drifted slowly into sleep.
Marik woke up with sand in his eyes, ears, mouth and every crevice of his body. At first, he thought it was yet night from the large shadow falling over him. He rubbed sand from his eyes and realised the shadow was of a tall, black Arabian stallion standing over him. "What the..." His gaze followed up the finely clothed leg of its rider to his hip, chest and spiky head. "Pharaoh!!" "Tomb guard." Atemu answered lazily. He then turned to the mounted army behind him. "You!" He brandished his sword towards the man on his right. "Fetch the boy and tie him up...We'll be taking him along." He turned and ordered about half of the men to continue on to Marik's pyramid. "Kill both of the other guards and loot the place entirely. Kill anyone who stands in the way or witnesses this." The soldiers kicked their horses on and rode away to follow out their orders.
Marik struggled with the soldier that had been order to bind him. "Get offa me!" Marik kicked him in the jaw and rolled away. The Pharaoh growled at his soldier's incompetence, sliding off his horse, came up behind Marik and banged him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Marik blacked out and fell into the sand. The soldier dragged him by his cloak and tied a rope around Marik's waist and the other end to the back of his saddle.
The Pharaoh casually walked towards Bakura (who is thoroughly almost- dead at this point), crouched and checked his pulse. It was slow and faint, but it was there. The Pharaoh scooped him up in his arms with delicate care and carried him to his horse. He slid him over the saddle and mounted behind him. A soldier helped Bakura into a sitting position; he slumped against Atemu's chest. They set off, towards the Pharaoh's palace.
End of chapter
a/n...oh crap. Sorry people for the HUUUGE delay in getting this up (it's been what almost 5 months...and I said a few days . geez) so thank you very very much for the comments. I love you guys :P Oh yeah I promise there will be smut in the next chapter XD even if it takes half a year to write, I'll get it in there XD