Second chapter: aren't we all so wonderfully happy? I must warn people, I have way overscheduled recently and when I'm busy I get depressed, and my writing reflects that. Much negativity can be expected, meaning probably violence, angst, fear, etc. I'm beginning to hate March….
Disclaimer: I don't own. I never claimed to. GET OVER IT!
Warning: Hasn't changed. Violence, yaoi, randomness, etc. Don't like, don't read. Also, Bakura will be slightly OOC here, since this is, by the way, pre-tomb-robber time. Didn't mention that before. It's also kind of an AU, since there is no Kuru Eruna and no massacre. Otherwise, it's the same.
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Hikari Flame: well, that's informative. Hehehe…sounds like a compliment to me! Glad you like it.
Chapter 2
"Relax," Malik said. "What happened?"
Ryou still couldn't moveor speak. He did manage to look down, aware that slaves were not supposed to look at those who were free.
He felt a strong hand pull his chin up, forcing him to look into a pair of stunningly violet eyes. "You can look at me; I'm not going to hurt you." The voice was calm, but almost pleading. Ryou actually found himself relaxing and calming down slightly in Malik's presence, although it was completely irrational to do so.
When the younger boy had calmed down enough to be slightly rational, Malik asked again, "What happened?"
"…" Ryou still was having trouble speaking, and on top of that, he had no idea where to start.
'All right….' Malik thought. "Why don't you start with your name?"
"I-I'm Ryou." Malik could still hear a slight tremor in the slave boy's voice. He couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
"Nice to meet you, Ryou. Can you tell me what's wrong?" Malik had never been all that great at comforting people, but he still felt like he had to try something. It looked like the boyRyou, he reminded himselfhad no one else to turn to. And he definitely needed help.
Ryou still refused to willingly look at the older boy. "I-It's…complicated."
"Just start at the beginning."
"A-all right." Ryou told Malik his story, starting where Bakura had run into their home and told him they needed to leave, and ending where the stranger had taken Bakura to the Pharaoh. By the time he finished, the older blonde was definitely feeling sorry for him. It wasn't hard to see why the boy was so upset...and terrified. His life had just been turned upside down and he had no clue what was going on. In addition, his parents were probably dead, considering he had apparently been raised by his older brother. So he'd probably been very close to that brother…to have him dragged away like that would have had to be terrifying. He wrapped his arms around Ryou in what he hoped was a comforting way, and was unsurprised when the boy leaned into him, sobbing vehemently.
They just sat like that for a while, maybe for half an hour. At that point, little by little, Ryou began to calm down. His sobs slowed and finally ceased, though he still quivered slightly. Malik relaxed his grip slightly, not wanting to suffocate the boy.
"You ready to get up now?" he asked the pale haired boy. When Ryou nodded slightly, he released him completely and pulled him to his feet.
The younger boy still refused to look up at him, but he did whisper, "Thank you. For…for listening." He acted as though he had never expected that from anyone.
"No problem." Although it was a rather common reply, it was the only one that Malik could think of at the moment.
As he walked out the door, he looked back. Although Ryou was no longer in a state of panicked fear, it was obvious from the way he stared out of the barred window that he was still not exactly happy, or fully reassured as to his situation.
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Bakura was dragged into a small room with no windows and a solid wooden door, unusual in a desert land with few trees. He was thrown to the ground, left there unceremoniously by the guard who had brought him. As he slowly stood, he heard the door slam shut and a latch lock into place, leaving him in complete darkness.
He wasn't sure how long he was locked in; it was hard to measure time without any light at all, and clocks hadn't been invented yet. But it was definitely long enough for him to get bored, and to come up with all sorts of reasons that he was locked in a pitch-black room. Most of them more than slightly gruesome and sadistic. He really needed to stop thinking…
Suddenly he heard the latch click open, and a thin beam of light shone into the room. It looked like torchlight, had that flickering quality that distinguished fire from any other light, so it was probably nighttime by now.
A man entered the room. Bakura thought he looked vaguely familiar….and with hair like that, it would be hard to mistake him for anyone else. He had a number of giant bangs with gold lightning-shaped streaks lining them, and blonde bangs in the same shape. Yes, definitely unmistakable, and definitely familiar. But from where…
Bakura's blood suddenly froze. He had just remembered where he had sent the man before. In a procession through the city…a ROYAL procession…
Pharaoh.
The man, who Bakura had correctly identified as the pharaoh, was indeed holding a torch. He walked over to the wall and lit another torch that hadn't been visible in the dark before crossing to the other side of the room and putting the first torch into a holder on the wall. Then he walked over to the door and closed it, barring the only escape route Bakura had.
In the now well-lit room, Bakura saw that there was quite a bit of stuff here, most of it looking as though it could cause quite a bit of pain. In fact, the room was bigger than he thought it had been, considering he hadn't tried to explore in the dark. He wasn't that good at navigation, and he didn't want to end up running into a wall or something because he didn't know his way around.
The pharaoh walked towards the pale teenager. The smile on his face as he inspected the boy grew into a full-out smirk, frighteningly dangerous looking…
A strange emotion began to well up in Bakura. Not one he was at all familiar with. In fact, he hadn't felt it since that night when their mother died, the night when they were left alone. It was fear.
The teen slid slowly away from the approaching man. He was trembling slightly, but not noticeably. However, although the room was larger than a closet, the space wasn't limitless. Eventually, Bakura slid straight into a wall, and Pharaoh still came nearer. And nearer….and nearer…Bakura shivered as a pair of hands seized him and pulled their faces close together, but stared defiantly into the slightly older boy's crimson eyes all the same. For as long as he could at least. No one could match that gaze for long.
Especially not with that smirk. It looked…evil, forbidding, sinister. In other words, terrifying to most, and even one such as Bakura, who had lived on the streets for almost half his life and had seen too much of the bad side of human nature, would have had to be completely mindless not to feel a flicker of fear at the coldness in their depths.
Bakura writhed frantically, trying to escape from the deceptively powerful grip. Pharaoh wasn't about to release him, though. In fact, his smirk simply grew at the teen's struggles.
"Don't make me use the chains…" This was the first thing either of them had said. The pharaoh's voice was deep and…amused, almost, although Bakura couldn't imagine why. Looking around, though., he saw that there were chains attached to the walls., huge iron manacles that were too high off the ground for him. If the pharaoh decided to use them…he'd be dangling at least a foot above the ground. Not an especially good idea. Needless to say, he quit struggling.
Bakura was pressed back against the wall, pinned to the cold bricks by a pair of strong hands. He had no way of escaping anymore, a frightening thing for a young thief. All in all, the situation looked bad. And it got worse quickly, as he felt a pair of lips slam roughly into his. He had no way to flee…
"You're mine," a soft voice whispered. "Mine…"
All right, there's chapter 2. Also shorter than my average, but oh well. No more ideas here. Hope you all enjoy it, read and review please!