Casteshipping (Atem/Thief King Bakura)

. . .

"Why do you look so surprised? It's always me, isn't it?"

"This isn't a surprised expression, Bakura, it's a 'not this shit again' expression."

Bakura actually cackled and it was perhaps the most annoying sound Atem had ever heard. He tightened his grip on his sword with one hand, calming his horse with the other. Bakura just perched on top of the old temple looking as carefree as a bird, grinning down at Atem as though he hadn'tjust murdered several of Atem's bodyguards not more than five minutes ago.

"Aw, don't look so disappointed," Bakura said, stretching. "It almost makes me think you don't want to see me."

"I never do," Atem said.

His horse pawed underneath him, and he pulled gently on the reins to keep her steady. He probably shouldn't even bother with the sword. Diabound was somewhere hidden in the shadows of the setting sun in this old ruin; he should just go for a god immediately. But if he didn't know where the blasted thing was...he could lose more men. He tried not to look at the bodies on the ground—tried not to think, yet, how he had failed them.

Bakura yawned loudly, leaping lightly to his feet on the very edge of the ledge. Atem briefly wished that the man would simply slip—fall and hit his head on the faraway ground below, crack open his skull, and put an end to the nightmare.

"Don't lie," Bakura laughed. "You kind of enjoy it, don't you? You don't want to admit it, but it's fun. Our little game is fun, isn't it? Wasn't it a great feeling of excitement when you figured out my riddle and followed me here?"

Atem clenched his jaw. His skin trembled ever so slightly. No, he wasn't going to give this blasted thief any ground. His excitement at solving the cryptic riddle Bakura had left at the scene of his last robbery had been because of relief, that he could finally know where he was and could corner him. Were Mahad and the others in position yet? He just—had to keep Bakura talking, and hope to the gods that he could hold strong against anything the thief could say.

"You're bored," Bakura hissed softly. He walked so gracefully, balancing neatly on the very edge of the temple as though walking on solid ground. "I can tell, pharaoh. Being a king is so boring. All these people relying on you...all of these responsibilities...you're just a child, really. Don't you just want to play games, have fun?"

"We can't always have what we want," Atem said, trying not to look to see if his priests were ready yet. He didn't want to draw Bakura's attention towards them.

"Ah, but you admit that you dowant it."

"Stop talking in circles—make this easy for everyone and surrender."

Bakura laughed, throwing his head back to send the sound spiraling into the sky.

"Easy? A game's no fun if it's easy, is it?" Bakura said.

"What do you want?" Atem said, feeling irritation and desperation surfacing inside him in spite of himself.

A flash of light—that was the signal! Atem pointed his sword forward at Bakura to indicate that he had gotten the response. Bakura's eyes flashed behind him—too late, he was going to get caught in the magical net—

There was a harsh roarthat grated on Atem's ears as the temple exploded underneath Bakura's feet. For a moment, a wave of dust billowed out over him and he cried out—his horse reared and he had to drop his sword to hang on, try to calm her. He couldn't see past the explosive dust and the crumbling debris of the temple, the faint flash of scales that indicated it had been Diabound bursting out from underneath. Did—did the spell work—

He cried out as he felt a hand latch around his wrist, yanking him down from his horse. He fell heavily against a solid chest—that wasn't one of his priests, none of his guards would have done that unless he was in serious danger, it had to be—

Bakura's hand briefly dug into Atem's cheek, the other gripping his wrist and holding him tightly in place. Atem struggled but he couldn't get loose—in this dust, his priests wouldn't be able to see him, Bakura could slit his throat in a second—

"What do I want?" Bakura's voice hissed into Atem's ear. "I want to set you free, dearest pharaoh."

And then, all at once, Bakura released him. Atem cried out as he stumbled to the ground, hitting and skidding against his knees. He coughed, blinking through the dust.

"Pharaoh!"

"Your Majesty!"

The dust was clearing. Atem coughed again, trying to dislodge the dust in his throat. He glanced behind him, but...no sign of Bakura. He was gone again. They had failed, once more.

I want to set you free.

Atem shivered as his guards raced to his aid, kneeling to check if he was injured.

I don't want your freedom, he thought, a cold settling in his chest. I...I don't want it.

. . .

A/N: So that was a thing. Next is Carmenshipping (Yami Marik x Yami Bakura x Seto).