By: Mahogany
Prologue
Standard disclaimers apply.
Warnings: Overall PG-13 Formal language (only for the prologue, though); mild hints of shounen-ai to come
Summary: YGO – Ancient Egypt – Yami x Yugi A deadly sickness has broken out among the working class. In desperation, the pharaoh partakes in a ceremony to call upon the power of the gods. But when an accidental summoning takes place instead, he finds himself ladled to a god. An insatiable sex god.
A.N.: Heya! After a two-year rest from fanfiction writing, I've finally decided to come back (and erase all the previous stories that I've written). Heheh. I'm actually a Weiss Kruez / Ranma1/2 / Sailor Moon Crossover / Gundam Wing / Furuba / etc writer, but I thought I'd give this fandom a try. And, wow, it's grown a lot since I last took a peek here. ; Looks like I have a lot of reading to catch up on, haha. Anyway, this is my latest writing project.
It's slightly AU and takes place during Yami/Atemu's reign some 5,000 years ago. I've been given the impression that Yugi's still portrayed as the weaker-willed and uke-like type, so I've decided to write something that will show his…er… more aggressive cough hornier cough side. I'll try to keep him in-character, though, so I hope I'm not dashing anyone's hopes when I say he's not going to tie Yami down and have his way with him. :D Oh, yes, and like the warning above says, this chapter was written far more formally than normal. This is mostly because I felt like it should reflect Yami's personality before Yugi's arrival. The language should go back to being more laid back depending on character perspective.
All right, I'm sure you're tired of reading my looong note, so, that's it for now. Hope ya enjoy.
The concessions and sacrifices he made for the well-being of his people annoyed him to no end. He knew it was required of a ruler; he knew it was his destiny. He knew all of that, but he also knew that he didn't like it. Not one bit. Especially when he had to perform time-consuming and often elaborate ceremonies for the ungrateful peasants.
Scowling, Atemu shifted the golden bracelet hanging limply on his wrist and stepped out of his chambers. "Go inform the High Priest that I wish to speak with him," he said to the guard nearest his right, passive disdain reflecting in his eyes when said man hastily set off at his tone.
There had been a time when he reveled in the fear that his presence conjured, but he soon lost interest in their reactions after a short while. It didn't take him long to realize that the men and women who served him weren't so much afraid of the Pharaoh himself than they were of the power he held over their lives.
He wasn't a cruel ruler. He wasn't exactly just, though. When he was angry, heads rolled – usually towards the nearest excrement dump. Rather than the term 'harsh treatment,' he liked to think of it as incorporating cruel methods in torture to remind his subjects to whom they belonged. It was a give and take relationship, really. He offered his protection and a home to them in return for their obedience and hard work. Lately, however, it seemed as if they were taking more than they were giving.
Atemu frowned at the thought. 'Indeed, this new outbreak of sickness is proving to be very costly, and it must be dealt with immediately. At this rate, I'll have no one but myself to rule over in a few weeks.'
It, the sickness, had been going on for several months. At first no one had paid it any heed because it affected a mere portion of the slaves. After all, they were easily replaced anyway. As time passed, however, the measly cold, or at least that was what they had believed it to be, became a full-blown epidemic that swept through the lands and collected many souls. It wasn't until Atemu ran out of idiotic council members to execute that he knew he had to interfere. Souls were leaving their hosts far faster than he could find replacements, which, considering how quickly he disposed of them, was an alarming rate. He honestly didn't know why he kept them around. Of the dozen of men that served in his council, only two held any sway over his actions – not that he needed their approval to do anything, in any case. When his mind was set, nothing would change it, come heaven or hell.
He sighed, letting his eyes slide shut for a moment as he waited.
"Pharaoh," a reserved voice called out from his left.
Craning his head, Atemu's scarlet eyes assessed the dark haired man dressed almost royally in light golden and white colors. "I see you're finally dressed." The other man nodded, face reflecting apology. "Good. Let's go."
And with that, the pharaoh turned and glided towards the shrine, dark crimson and yellow strands reflecting the sunlight as he moved.
Staring down at the scribe in his hands, Seto sighed. "Are you sure you want to go through with this ceremony, Pharaoh?" he asked, pressing his lips together as he read over the chant in his mind.
Seated stiffly on the dais, Atemu gave a curt nod. "Do you question my judgement, Priest?"
Cerulean eyes flashed for a moment. Although he was the closest thing to a friend that the Pharaoh had, it annoyed him till no end that the other loved to belittle him. Usually he would retort with a cleverly disguised insult, but he knew today was not the day. The ruler was like a sandstorm. His anger was rare and far in between, but when baited during stressed conditions, the consequences were often deadly.
"No, not at all. I'm simply surprised that such a valuable scripture would be hidden in the Temple for so long. I believe that there may be a reason why it has not been touched in years," Seto answered. It was true, after all. He didn't quite trust ceremonies that had never been performed in the past. The scribe itself was old and weather-downed. Not from usage, however, but from time. He knew it would be risky to call forth the power of the gods, especially from a chant so ancient. Nevertheless, the Pharaoh dismissed his opinion.
"I simply need to read the chant, and all will be done, correct?"
The High Priest grunted in response, attention captured by the smudged ink on the hieroglyphics. 'Has no one ever attempted this ceremony? Maybe I'm over-reacting. Surely it must have been used before… If it hasn't, well… There can't possibly be any harm in trying. It's very specific, to the point that a single mistake would result in complete failure. It's nothing to worry about. And the chant… It may be blurred, but they words are still legible. We'll be fine.'
"These items are also necessary in this ceremony," Seto said, breaking out of his stupor to motion towards the objects spread out before the Pharaoh as he identified them. "Parchment. 12 bay leaves. The brain of a tortoise. A pinch of aniseed. A dried lotus flower. Semen from several virgins. And…" He looked up. "We will need both three strands of your hair and an object to contain this power – to bind it to you."
Atemu stared at his advisor skeptically for a moment. A ceremony for power? This sounded more like sending a sacrifice to the beloved goddess Isis! Nevertheless, he complied and plucked three strands of ruby-gold hair, passing them onto Seto. "And you said a container?" he questioned.
The priest nodded. "Something powerful enough to hold the sacred power."
The Pharaoh frowned for a moment, absentmindedly fingering the pyramid puzzle around his neck. "Ah!" he murmured to himself, and, staring at the golden object, took it off. "This should work. The Millenium
Puzzle is, by far, the mightiest object in my possession."
Arranging the objects in the correct order, Seto stared at the dried lotus flower that floated in the cup of semen uneasily for a moment. 'Somehow…' He shook his head. Foolish thoughts. There was no time for that. With a deep breath, the priest handed his pharaoh the scribe.
Moving to stand before the items, as was custom, Atemu reached a hand forward and recited the first line, the eye of Horus flashing to life on his forehead.
"There is a shouting in the southern sky in darkness…"
The glow intensified, shadows casting themselves around his extended arm as he continued onto the second.
"…There is an uproar in the northern sky…"
Seto stared uneasily, watching as the parchment filled with words.
"…The Hall of Pillars falls into the waters…"
The ground shook, and the cup, trembling from an unseen force, teetered from side to side.
"…Who leads hither what he finds? I lead forth what I find…"
The Millenium Puzzle gleamed in the soft light, unmovable even though the other items beside it shook frantically.
"…I lead you forth to drive away the god of Fevers and all possible deadly arts…"
The cup tilted and fell, spilling its contents onto the Puzzle. Slowly, its glow turned otherworldly, the eye gleaming ominously.
"…Power of the Gods, Hunger of the Flesh – With this lotus flower, I bind you to my will…"
Seto's eyes widened suddenly as realization dawned on him. His mouth slackened in a silent scream.
"…Come to me…"
'No! This isn't a ceremony for power…'
"…Come to me…"
'It's a summoning!'
"…Awaken."
"Pharaoh!"
The room erupted in a cackle of released energy. The ground stilled, and a glaring light shrouded the room. The shadows dispersed with a virulent hiss, forcing the two occupants of the room to turn away and shield their eyes. Seto grunted, eyes burning from the intensity of the erratic power. 'It's almost as if it's alive!'
Waves pulsed and spread, crawling and jabbing at corners and grooves, as if searching. Finally, its light fell on the man who had summoned it. As if pleased, it swiftly intertwined with the prone form of the Pharaoh. Quickly. Teasingly. Possessively. Atemu groaned, almost falling to the floor as the energy roughly and energetically collided with and embraced him. "What…" he croaked, voice hoarse even though he had barely spoken. Almost immediately, the light softened, almost apologetically, and he felt the energy retreat, no longer suffocating him.
Atemu blinked and rubbed his sore eyes. Focusing on the dais before him, he almost reeled back in shock.
There, sitting before him, was a scantily clad mirror image of himself. Barely covered by a soft-looking fabric that clung onto his lean frame, the figure tilted his head to the side impishly. Wide amethyst eyes stared down at him, almost as if in wonder. Suddenly, a brilliant smile broke out on the identity's face.
"My Pharaoh," the god said in a soft but pleased voice, "you've finally awakened me."
A.N.: grins So there ya go, the prologue. I didn't really want to make it long, so I decided to cut it off there and go into the technicalities of everything else in the next chapter. Hope you liked it! Comments and criticism is welcome. And, well, here's a little extra for you. Heheh. :D The writing style, if you'll notice, starts to diverge from here on out.
The chant above was partly taken from an actual ancient Egyptian superstition. I edited it a bit to fit the story.
Preview of Chapter 1: My Master :
The Pharaoh stared at the divine entity before him, a whirlwind of emotion flitting through his mind. 'What…what have I done? Summoning a god… This is unprecedented! It should have been impossible!'
As if reading his thoughts, which, since he was a god, he probably was, Yugi smiled gently. "I will do you no harm. You have called upon my power, so I am here to aid you."
Atemu hesitated. "Over which realm do you rule?" he asked, curious as to which mighty god he had dared to bind to himself. It was well known to all that the wrath of the gods was not to be taken lightly. The Pharaoh might have been invincible before the threat of the people, but he held no power over a divine creature.
A soft shade of pink dusted the god's cheeks. "I am merely the god of physical pleasure," he said softly, looking down at his hand and twiddling his fingers shyly.
And for once, Atemu was at a loss for words. He stared. "Pleasure? That means…When I summoned you… You and I…"
Yugi nodded once, feeling the temperature rise drastically in the secluded temple. "Yes," he said, looking up at the Pharaoh and laughing nervously, "We created a bond."
The normally cool-headed and ruthless ruler of Egypt took a step back, eye twitching. 'A god of pleasure has bound himself to me?' That certainly explained why the doe-eyed blonde was sparsely dressed. Certainly it was meant to entice. However, the only thing that the Pharaoh felt at that instance was an almost panic-like emotion. "By Ra," he breathed, "this wasn't meant to happen!"
Yugi stiffened. "…What? You don't…want me here, my Pharaoh?" He took a step forward on uncertain feet. "But I…" He looked down and caught sight of the Millenium Puzzle. Instantly, Atemu found himself pressed flush against a temptingly soft body. A small golden hand teasingly darted forward, wrapping around his wrist. He tensed, waiting for the god's punishment.
Nothing happened.
Instead, he heard the quiet noise of ragged breathing. Atemu frowned and looked down at the figure nestled in his arms. Muffled by a sturdy chest, the voice spoke up again, huskier and out of breath. "I am to remain here, my Pharaoh. I cannot return to my world until I fulfill your needs. And the Millenium Puzzle…it will guarantee that I do."
'What does he mean by 'it will guarantee?' Atemu wondered silently. His question was soon answered, though, when the smaller figure clutched him even closer, nuzzling his neck affectionately. Apparently, its presence took away whatever modesty the god had.
"Congratulations, my Pharaoh," Yugi murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on the taller man's neck, "you are now in possession of a sex god."