Slickshipping (Thief King Bakura x Priest Akhenaden)
Sand blew across the darkened pathway. The warm brown stone scattered with sand was deceiving – this pathway was actually quite slick. It was the sand that made it so, constantly blowing across in dangerous patterns. But Akhenaden was familiar with the safe spots, and so he walked without worry.
The sun had set some hours ago, and the night guard had switched into place. He nodded to the two guards that stood in front of the Guardian's Gate, and they nodded back. It was common enough to see a guardian or two entering the temple grounds. After all, this was where the tablets of the guardian's kas were kept, sealed away in their own world through the magic of stone until called upon for battle.
Akhenaden did not plan on calling upon any of his contracted creatures tonight. He simply craved the quiet and solitude that his own small shrine would give him. He had been thinking too much the past couple of days, thinking on things that he had hoped to forget but knew he could not. He needed some form of escape.
The temple doors opened for him at just a single glance. The Millennium Eye worked in that way.
He stepped into the light of flickering candles; they were a spelled set that burned without ceasing, and he was glad for their silent company now.
The candlelight threw eerie shadows across the tall walls around him, bearing reliefs of fabulous monsters all about. He climbed the stairs onto the main dais. Each of the guardian's shrines had one; it was where they stood to draw power from the creatures so that their spells would have power, as well as a spot for prayer, and the stone beneath which they would one day be buried. But Akhenaden did not plan to use the dais for any of these uses. He simply needed to sit down.
He had barely ascended the final stair when a strange, niggling feeling came over him. That feeling did not have time to settle before he felt a hot breath against his neck, behind him.
"You should really close the door when you go into a place alone, Akhenaden," said a cold, amused voice that Akhenaden knew all too well. "Things might follow you inside."
Akhenaden whipped around, his old bones protesting the motion. Sure enough, Bakura stood behind him, grinning that dark smile. Akhenaden's heart dropped. He was not prepared for this – none of his spells were ready, and his magic was depleted with the turning of the hours. He may have been standing in the place where he was most powerful, but even he knew his own limitations.
"What are you doing here, Bakura?" Akhenaden said. He moved slowly backwards, so as to put space between them. "How did you get past the guards?"
Bakura just smiled slowly. He fingered the golden ring about his neck, and Akhenaden felt a wash of helplessness come over him. Mahad, the greatest wizard of all the Guardians, had fallen before this terror. Akhenaden was old. He had felt the passing of his power long ago. Could he possibly stand against Bakura?
"No one sees me when I do not want them to," Bakura said easily. He stepped closer, his red robe fluttering in the motion and sending shadows skittering about the chamber. "But what about you, Akhenaden? What brings you here alone on a night like this, when you know that I am about? When you know that it is you that I hate the most?"
Akhenaden had no answer for him. He was too busy trying to weave a spell behind his back.
"That won't work, and you know it, old man," Bakura said with a hiss. "What spell is that, anyway? An attack? A shield? Or perhaps you are trying to call your fellow guardians to your aid?"
Akhenaden still did not answer. The spell was finished – it needed only to be activated. He took another step back, assuming that Bakura would follow him.
"What do you want, Bakura?" Akhenaden said. "If it is my life that you desire, go ahead. Take it. I do indeed deserve punishment for my crimes."
Bakura sneered.
"You do not even understand the weight of the crime that you committed. You have no sorrow for the lives you took, even now."
Bakura did in fact step closer, and as he talked, Akhenaden flung his spell forward. It exploded in a rage of gold and silver light in Bakura's face. Bakura gasped, stepping back and out of the way. But that was only the distraction. Akhenaden intoned a few heavy syllables, and golden lights drew themselves around Bakura. Dark eyes flashed as the light formed a cage around him and slowly began to draw inwards.
Bakura's dark eyes flicked almost lazily to Akhenaden.
"Cute," he said. "But then, it wouldn't have been as much fun if you hadn't put up a fight."
And with a snap of his fingers, purple magic formed around him. It consumed the gold in an instant, and before Akhenaden could respond, it tore through him. He nearly cried out, but the magic silenced him. He could only drop to his knees, gasping for air.
Bakura grabbed the collar of his tunic and forced him to look up.
"I would love so much to kill you, right now," Bakura said. "But that wouldn't solve any of my problems. No, no, I have a much better idea."
Bakura's free hand came up and brushed the Millennium Eye. It was the barest of touches, but the motion sent a rushing headache through Akhenaden.
"Ah, there we are," Bakura said. "So. Seto is your son, is he? How interesting."
Fear joined the pulsing headache.
"Leave him alone, Bakura," Akhenaden said. "Don't touch him."
Bakura just laughed, a hollow sound.
"I won't do a thing to him," Bakura said. "But you might."
He touched the Millennium Eye again, and this time, when the headache seared through him, Akhenaden's consciousness did not arise again.
Well, it did, but if the Akhenaden of five minutes ago could have seen the darkness in his own eyes, he would have killed himself before he could do any damage.
As it was, Bakura simply laughed again, and left to let his dark magic finish erasing Akhenaden's good intentions, so that only the darkness remained.
A/N: Yeah. I had no idea what to do with this one. I had fun with the descriptions, though. Next is Sleepshipping (Marik x Possessed Jonouchi x Rishid).
