Phew! I said I'd get this up Saturday and its offically Sunday (headdesk) Sorry this is so late: I forgot to mention that I was on vacation last week and we came home Saturday but spent the day at my aunt and uncles so I didn't get home until 6 and had to edit this chapter, unpack, do my homework and all that jazz (headdesk) long damn day!

But the chap is extra long and filled with LOTS of fun stuff for all of you to make up for it ;)

Disclaimer: see previous

Dedication: To Val for reminding me to update and editing lickity-split! And because I was skyping with her when this idea came to me based on her feedback! I love you hun!

As always read, review, comment, critique, ask questions, post theories and have fun!

Chapter VII: Waking

He was swaying.

It was the first thing Yugi's consciousness became aware of. All other senses lost in the drifting between the conscious awareness of waking and the blissful absent darkness of sleep. He didn't as much sway, as rocked up and down, side to side—a perpetual, repetitive arch that felt almost soothing.

Slowly, his mind became aware of other things—things less noticeable when he was awake, but clearer now that his subconscious was in control. His skin felt tight and covered in places, and airy and exposed in others. He flexed his muscles, subconsciously, and his skin was restrained by smooth, slippery, sleekness like solidified water without the wetness. Feathery delicateness brushed bare skin, tickling and bundling. The ground molded to his body, providing elevation and softness. His fingers flexed and brushed feathers and cloth. He could feel himself slipping in-between dream-like bliss and self-awareness and he fought them with memories and facts. His subconscious mind began matching sensations to labels and things.

Blankets. Bandages. Bed. Rocking. Swaying. Water? Ships? Barks? No, not Royal Barks, but he did remembered a ship. A large ship, too large to be a Kemet Bark. Something else. Something different. Something bigger, wider, many-sailed and black like...

Like Dragon Wings. Yugi's eyes flew open, memory returning with devastating clarity, and with it, an all-consuming dread. The instinct that followed propelled him upward and completely free from the grip of sleep. He became aware of his surroundings before his eyes scrutinized the detail. The walls and floor were wood, not stone. The windows were glass, not open slivers. And the scenery outside wasn't a single scene, but stationary desert and parallel to the Nile rushing in the opposite direction. Examining where he was, he found silk sheets, not linen, the addition of a comforter, and the mattress was feathered and weightless beneath his aching bones, like a cloud. Not the stern lump he'd grown accustomed to, and the bed was a wooden box frame with four posters shoved into the corner of a room that was clearly too furnished and had too much to be his. He wasn't in Mut's temple, or Amun's, or even on Kemet soil.

"Ah, I see you've finally awakened." All breath left him in a single gasp: sudden, soundless, and frozen. He recognized the voice before he could match it to a face. That melodic baritone, so deep and syrupy, it sweetened his very bones. The same voice that promised him the world before his world went black. And he knew exactly who it belonged to. His heart leapt into his throat and froze there, then dropped to his stomach.

Slowly, unwillingly, Yugi turned his head and met the bright eyes of Timaeus: one as emerald as the sea, and the other a ghostly white scar. His enemy's gaze was warm and low-lidded. "Welcome back." He smiled a sliver, but a twinge of arrogance hid behind it, betraying what his eyes masked well.

Fear transforming into rage and rebellion, Yugi's eyes sharpened to slits of defiance. His body sprang into action and his hand reached for some sort of weapon. A pang, like a jolt, wracked his torso. His body was suddenly aflame with agony and he slumped forward with a pitiful sound between a hiss and a shriek. Timaeus shot forward, catching him as he stumbled. Yugi fell into his arms and hated himself for his own weakness.

"Easy," he said kindly, almost concerned. "Your bruises are still healing. Moving too much will only irritate them further."

Yugi wanted to wretch, but he was in too much pain to retort.

Instead, he looked up and met Timaeus' smile with a glare. In this position and at this distance, Timaeus' face was revealed in all its glory. His face was handsome and full of angles and carried an ageless quality. Finely-cut cheekbones made his smile radiate and a strong chin gave him a regal look. The scar, his only blemish, amplified whatever expression its bright, beautiful twin presented and it made him appear even gentler. He was handsome and appeared young, heartbreakingly so, but carried the maturity and wisdom of a man three times Yugi's own age. He could very well be three times his age and Yugi would never be able to tell. It made his attractiveness all the more appealing. And Yugi hated himself for it.

He held the man's gaze, but his clever fingers searched, until they felt the hilt of a knife. He enclosed a fist around it and slowly, he pulled. A calloused hand, strong from years of labor, enclosed his wrist, like a root ensnaring dirt, and squeezed. Yugi was unable to hold back a short yelp of pain but he refused to relinquish his bounty. He tightened his hold, even as his wrist and the knife were pulled away, and held above his head, not enough to cause him pain, but enough to force him to meet his enemy's face.

Timaeus regarded him with fathomless eyes and a smile of accomplished anticipation, and at once, Yugi understood. "You should change your tactic, little one." He teased in surprisingly-smooth Aramaic—his accent faint and hard to place, but hinted of the Eastern Kingdoms. "That trick won't work twice." He paused, smile curled with no effort to hide its confidence. "Well," a purr of arrogance. "Not on me."

Yugi screamed again, but this time it was a creature of rage and defiance. His pain forgotten, his free hand curled into a fist and struck. Timaeus caught it with no effort. Yugi snarled and ripped it free before he could tighten his grip. He used the distraction to pull his other wrist free. He surrendered the knife and it dropped. Somehow, Timaeus caught it, spun to set it on the table and caught Yugi around the middle when he tried to shove Timaeus away. Yugi shrieked in fury and hammered the man's chest, hitting flesh. Through the haze of rage, he only now saw Timaeus' armor was absent—save for his mantle, boots, wrist guards, and a belt protecting his hips and groin. The rest was a singular, dark silver under-armor. Anger surged through him when Timaeus grabbed his wrists. Using the new realization to his advantage, Yugi brought his knee up sharply, aiming for Timaeus. He missed his vulnerable thigh, but caught him in the hip.

It was enough. Timaeus muttered a curse and released him. Yugi didn't waste the opportunity. He spun on his heels and ran for the hold, shoving at the doors without stopping. They opened into a larger room, but he didn't pause to take in the detail. He thrust the doors open and was welcomed with a face full of blinding sunlight and river air.

Momentarily blinded, he inhaled air ripe with Nile silt and chilled with a welcoming breeze. It tasted like freedom on his tongue. The brightness, the freshness, the air, the sound of rushing waves—it was the promise of heaven. Yugi crossed the threshold, leaping like a wild stallion escaping the farmer's fence and expecting to feel grass on the other side.

Only for the dream to clear and nightmarish reality to settle—and Yugi found himself in the heart of the lion's den. Meaty-armed Thranites rowed massive oars in circular patterns like they were spinning sticks. Hoplites perched on rims and steps polishing spears and sharpening shields until their deadly points reflected the light. Soldiers donning the green and silver colors of their leader brandished swords and bragged of their conquests. Overhead, sailors climbed among the nets and masts like a swarm of insects. Gruff exteriors roughened by travel at sea, toughened by months of battle, and the adrenaline of the fight pumped their veins—evident in their wild eyes.

Then every pair of wild eyes turned on him: what began as surprised curiosity quickly morphed into something less innocent, and far more sinister. Some branded horrible smiles of ugly teeth. Others waved arms, and Yugi noticed some had missing limbs, while others donned armor crusted with dried blood. Some licked their lips. Others cocked their heads with the innocent cruelty of a child that found a hiding animal.

Hope died in Yugi's chest. His heart dropped to his stomach, leaving a hole that swelled to the edge of panic. To his horror, his body froze like a rabbit caught in the grip of a wolf. Caught, but by no means willing to surrender. They advanced on him, and Yugi backed away, panicked eyes scrutinizing for a way out. With horror, he realized there was none—he was on a ship in the heart of the Nile. He could never hide, not with so many eyes on him. He couldn't run; the paths were blocked by supplies and soldiers, and unlike the Precincts, he didn't know its secrets. He'd only trap himself and leave himself at the mercy of murderers and pirates. He could run, but they'd catch him. He could fight, but they'd easily overpower him, have their way with him, and pass him about like a broken toy to be used and discarded. Or worse, they'd do nothing, neither help nor harm, but leave him at the mercy of their captain who'd already ruthlessly killed two of them and who knew what else.

There was only one escape. He ran to the side of the ship. Panicked fingers gripped the edges. The Nile bubbled two layers down, pushing foam and rough waves as the galleon piled through it—rough but not unswimmable. He could see the current sweeping towards the shore. It could carry him easily. He pulled his weight onto the ledge. His knees touched the railing. He heard screaming behind him, but he ignored it. He pivoted his feet, balancing on his heel and pushed to jump.

Cloth bunched in his front, tightening around his neck—a split-second warning before a rough jerk pulled him back and threw him against the floor of the ship with such force, he nearly slid. His back screamed in rage, air was forced from his chest. He'd closed his eyes during the impact and opened them dully with a gruff of pain. Immediately, he wished he hadn't.

Timaeus stood over him, his fist had uncurled but his fingers twitched at his side, poised and light—ready to strike, ready to grab. The other tightened into a fist, and all earlier kindness was gone from his face as if it hadn't been there at all. Instead, it contorted to a snarl of livid fury that he did nothing to contain. But in it, barely concealed, was a heartbreaking deliverance. He stepped forward and dropped to a single knee, shaking—whether it was in rage or relief, Yugi couldn't tell. He looked Yugi over with a quick nod. Yugi's mouth dried at the look of calculated fury, narrowing and blazing at the perilous stunt. The scar scrunched to mimic his snarl, before he clenched Yugi's chest in his fist and dragged him upward. Timaeus' body hunched over him, glaring down.

"Stupid, reckless brat!" He started deceptively calm, but rage valorized his voice. Grim severity punctured his every word. "Do. You. Have. Any. Idea. What you almost did?! What you were about to do?! What you nearly—!" Timaeus' fists shook, and for a moment, Yugi feared he'd punch him. Instead, it came down into the wood, missing Yugi completely, but the force was enough to splinter it. Yugi's breath froze, and his defiance with it.

Timaeus shook violently, filled his cheeks with air then exhaled harshly. He retracted his fist and uncurled it. His grip on Yugi's shirt released, but the boy didn't move.

"Fool," Timaeus said again, shaking. The same way he had when he spoke to those boys, but there was more pain and less anger. "Stupid fool." His hand dropped parallel with Yugi's head, curling into the wood. "Why in Hades' Tartarus would you try something so stupid? Do you honestly have such little regard for your own safety?! Your life?!" Each word was an enraged hiss and struck like a punch in the stomach, and Yugi was forced to bear it without swaying.

"Did you honestly think you'd survive the swim?! After the flood?! You—who is a native to this country and knows its treachery?! Did you actually think you could reach shore? Survive the waves if the crocodiles didn't get at you first? Did you?!"

Yugi knew he wouldn't have. But he'd deluded himself with the falsity of hope. It was all he had. And how dare this bastard try to take that from him, even if he was right!

But Timaeus wasn't done. "Is that what you truly want—TO DIE?!" Each syllable hit with the force of a savage wave: sudden and all at once until you were drowning in it.

Yugi tried to block out the words, but the sheer reality and stark truth in the Trierarch's words was worse than any physical strike. Hesitantly, Yugi wondered if the punishment would've been easier if Timaeus had simply slapped him for his stupidity. His entire body shuddered, his heart pounded in his chest and his mind raced with horror.

"DO YOU?!" Timaeus demanded.

Yugi broke. "I'D RATHER BE DEAD THAN BE YOUR WHORE!" he screamed. The dam of concealed emotions finally broke. He thrashed in a fit of heartbroken sobs, until he finally collapsed—his wails transforming into distressed, fearful whimpers.

The outburst caught Timaeus off-guard and he softened in his surprise. His natural protective instincts soared to life without his approval. That had been the last thing he wanted the boy to think of his position, but what did he expect? Their first meeting hadn't given the boy any reason to trust him, least of all his situation. But how could he explain that when the brat was so ready to fly and shamelessly risk his life like it could easily be recycled? Like escape was a flower-strewn path of thornless roses to skip down, like life's perils and survival's struggles were a children's bed time story. Was he truly that naïve? Truly that desperate?

Timaeus removed a hand from his face, having forgotten when he'd put it there, or when he'd closed his eyes. The boy was still sprawled beneath him, glaring with predatory defiance and a will stronger than iron and not half as breakable—but shadowed in the purple depths was a trace of fear. A wild fear like a cornered cat before reason left it and it unleashed the full force of its animalistic fury.

Timaeus inhaled sharply and held it. Then with a calming sigh, he exhaled and promised as gently as he possibly could, "That would never have happened."

A soundless growl shuddering through his body, Yugi sat up to retort, but Timaeus cut him off with a blunt "Are you injured?"

Yugi blinked, the retort dying in his throat. Instead came a surprised "What?"

"Did those men harm you?" he amended the questions, "Besides the bruises?"

Yugi shot up in confused fury. "What the devil are you—"

"I'm asking if you're alright," Timaeus said, forcing his tone to be patient. It only infuriated Yugi more. How dare this man speak to him like he was some disobedient child! He shot up, his mouth opened to release a string of Kemet curses, but a third voice caught him off-guard and his rage vanished.

"Oh, my." Both boys turned to the surprised gasp of the interloper. He stood taller than them both, in a loose white and blue robe with a silver and blue chain of status tied around his waist. A spiked wave of aqua hair was tamed by a silver circlet of sovereignty and an emerald bearing the helm of a blue stone shimmered at his neck. Both knew him. Both recognized him, though it was the first time Yugi had seen the man's face.

King Dartz of Atlantis stood with his face frozen. His golden eyes widened like a child who walked in on something he wasn't supposed to. Something inappropriate. A tiny smile formed at his face and he raised a hand just in time to stifle a laugh. His next words followed a snort. "How did this little debacle occur, I wonder?" he said, like a servant girl barely able to keep silent about a conquest.

Yugi felt his cheeks grow warm. Timaeus' face flamed. The position they'd taken during the spat suddenly became embarrassingly apparent. Timaeus regained his composure first and hopped up. He grabbed Yugi's arm, and with a gentle yank, hauled him up—but he didn't let go. Yugi tried to pull it free, but Timaeus only tightened his grip in warning. Yugi understood and reluctantly surrendered. He was right to not believe he wouldn't flee.

"Our guest," Timaeus explained, drawing up his mantle with his free arm and draping it over the smaller boy's shoulder, "Overreacted upon waking. And in his panic, sought a rather," he paused and looked down at his captive, then coughed into his hand, "Reckless attempt at flight."

Yugi bowed his head with shame. The mawkish details were nowhere near as humiliating as the stern paternal tone, far gentler and less brutally honest than the voice Timaeus had used to scold him.

"I see," Dartz said flatly, asking for no further details. He turned to Yugi, eyes soft with repent. "Please allow me to offer my sincerest apologies," he bowed slightly to meet Yugi's eyes, but he spoke to him as he would a man, not a child or a woman. "Let me assure you now that we mean you absolutely no harm, nor shall any harm befall you while you are under Atlantis' protection. I'm sure you have many questions, so let me start by asking: Is your name Yugi?"

Yugi sucked in a breath. "How do you know that?" The name was a sacred promise; it has been heard by many, but shared and spoken only by those with permission to use it. Those closest to his heart or closest to his mother who gave it to him, and his father who gave all his children "secret" names reserved for private sharing amongst themselves when decorum and image held no power over them. Remembering someone else who'd called him by that name, his eyes shot to Timaeus. His smile confirmed Yugi's fears. His attention diverted back to Dartz who gave him a reassuring smile that was matched by his gaze.

"How do you know that name?" Yugi demanded, but shock strangled the words.

Dartz offered a hand. "We were sent here on a very special mission by someone very close to you. The new Pharaoh Psusennes I." Yugi looked at him with confused eyes and Dartz amended his dialect. "Forgive me. I believe you know him better as Per-A'Ah Pasebakhaenniut."

"Pas sent you!" Yugi said the nickname without thinking. He broke free from the shelter of Timaeus' cloak, and forgetting all decorum in his desperation, grabbed Dartz's hand. "Where is he? Where's Mut? Are they alright? Please tell me!"

"They're fine," Dartz said with a smile and held up a reassuring palm. "They're waiting for you and the hem-netjer in Djanet," Dartz explained. "Your brother feared for your safety in their care, but he could not risk a civil war between them. It is why he asked for our aid. He knows fully well they plotted against him, but seeking to end the battle without bloodshed, he offered Atlantis an alliance—one I was pleased to accept." Dartz knelt down to Yugi's ear as if whispering a secret. "But he specifically asked we free you above all else."

Yugi's eyes widened. He understood when Dartz pulled away, and nodded firmly when he met the King's eyes. Pas was going to become King. He could rule Kemet as Per-A'Ah but not unite it, not so long as the Divine Servants of Amun held their sway over the desert and their power over the Gods in the eyes of the people. Attacking them, imprisoning them, and forcing them to accept his reign would make him a tyrant in the eyes of the people—just like letting them make all his decisions would make him appear weak; a little better than a figurehead. Though he secretly hoped he'd return for him, Yugi knew it was impossible. Mut could come, but not Pas. The moment Father died, Kemet became his, and with it, all her treasures and burdens. Kemet would always come first. Before anything else. Before his family. Before his Great Royal Wife. Even before a single boy whose love could be used against him. The only option to solve the matter peacefully was with the aid of a "mutual" third party. Pas could not have chosen a better strategy, Yugi thought.

"It is also why I had my most trusted Knight lead the invasion." Dartz' eyes drifted to Timaeus—who'd stood strategically-placed between Yugi and the king, and the wandering eyes of his crew behind him.

When the attention returned to him, he donned the persona of a knight and bowed, graciously. "Timaeus of Locri—Leader of the Dragon Knights and Trierarch of the Eye of Timaeus—at your service." He spoke it like it was a joke, but he carried the arrogance of his title as dashingly as he wore his mantle and armor. Yugi regained his composure, but kept his face hard.

"I knew he would secure the priests and their conspirers with as minimal damage as possible," Dartz concluded.

"So they're safe?" Yugi challenged the knight, but not the King.

Timaeus nodded. "Everyone was apprehended carefully," he explained evenly. "My soldiers were given the strictest order: our mission was to capture and apprehend—nothing more." He stressed the word. "Resistance was dealt with swiftly, and any injured were taken and treated by our physician, including yourself. Servants and slaves are currently residing in the lower quarters—the hem-netjer in the brigs, as they'd done nothing but swear vengeance upon me. As for the two soldiers you…" he paused and amended his words when Yugi's neutral mask hardened. "Who attacked you, they are both dead."

"You killed them," Yugi whispered in a hiss. It was a statement and a harsh one.

"Yes." Timaeus made no effort to deny it. "They disobeyed me when they struck you, and lost all hope of redemption when they attempted to molest you, and in a temple of all places." He let his rage and betrayal bleed into the last part, before composing himself. "They knew what they were doing and they knew the consequences, and they were the stupidest of fools to think they'd be given mercy. I'd warned them countless times and they still disobeyed. My only regret is that I did not arrived sooner. Perhaps, had I did, you'd have less bruises."

If his sincerity was an act, Yugi couldn't tell. Those terrible memories swarmed in his mind like a plague of locusts, filling him with dread and horror. Tears pricked his eyes from sheer helplessness more than anything else. His hands rubbed his arms, suddenly feeling chilly in the heat. He couldn't deny he'd felt a sick satisfaction when he'd seen them both die. Seeing them weak and helpless and crying for mercy. It satisfied him even as it filled him with pity. Pity that died as soon as it was over, and everything was brought into context.

Guilt squeezed Timaeus' sinking heart at the boy's distress. He lifted his mantle, which Yugi had thrown off in his haste, and it fell limply over his arm. He draped it over the boy's shoulders, and to his relief, Yugi stopped crying.

The cloak fell over Yugi's shoulders protectively like a dragon's wing. The gesture surprised him at first, but not nearly as much as the comfort it brought. He remembered when the man had done this before. How grateful he'd been and how he'd thought his prayers were answered when the green Shadow stopped his attackers and saved him. Saved him, he realized. Regardless of who it was or how it was done, he had been saved. He could ponder the possible futures and its darkest moments, remind himself over and over how close it had come, how all it took was a few more second or minutes—but the fact was, it hadn't. It hadn't happened and it would never happen. His attackers were dead. Dead, with their blood draining from ugly wounds and their bodies probably rotting in the desert. Certainly not how they expected their lives to end, if they expected to be punished at all. Their end was fitting: the brutality a simple reflection of their attempted crime.

His shadow—no, not a shadow, Timaeus—though it burned him to admit it, had saved him. And he was safe now. Safe under the protection of Atlantis and its King, and on his way to reunite with his brother and sister who loved him. Menk and Maat would never be able to control him again. Perhaps it hasn't been what he expected, but wasn't this what he wanted? A way to reunite with his family? Surely, it wasn't a coincidence Timaeus had arrived just at the time he'd needed him most. Just after he'd finished his prayers even? Had Mut-Sekhmet not given him strength in his hour of need and sent him a protector as well? Yugi wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. Instead, he just smiled and wiped his eyes, the smallest of laughs escaping him as the cloak fell over his arms.

The Gods certainly work in mysterious ways. He laughed to himself for ever being doubtful. But they're always listening.

Timaeus smiled at the boy's change in demeanor. He didn't expect his trauma to recover quickly, but perhaps the knowledge that he was indeed safe was a start. Carefully, he stepped forward and did the clasps of the cape, keeping it together, though it was made for armor and hung comically off on one of Yugi's shoulders. Timaeus found it almost cute.

"You fought bravely, by the way," he whispered as he did the second clasp. Yugi looked at him with confused eyes. "Those boys were the worst of my soldiers, but they were still formidable forces and you fought them like they were children bullying a stray. Were circumstances different, I'd have no doubt you would've escaped them easily. Be proud of that fire, little one. That is what saved you more than I."

Yugi blushed at the comment and pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulder. "Thank you," he said reluctantly, though the reassuring words did make him feel better. "They weren't the first brutes I fought."

"Really?" Timaeus raised an impressed brow. "That doesn't surprise me. You fight like a tigress." He chuckled and Yugi's eyes doubled at the bold statement. Timaeus saw his gaping mouth and laughed. "I should know, given you've attacked me twice. Your limbs are quiet powerful. Had it been anyone else you fought, you'd have escaped both times."

Was he praising him? The thought made Yugi's spine arch in a pleasant shudder and his cheeks burn.

Timaeus smiled at the boy's surprised blush. He moved to speak again, but an obvious cough caused them both to turn. Timaeus spun in the King's direction and Yugi followed, just now remembering he was still there.

Dartz's expression was one of humor and knowledge, curled like he'd just figured out a secret. "I am pleased to see that this issue is settled," he said with a chuckle, and it was a miracle of their wills that both men stayed composed. "As such, it's only fitting young Ujalah remains here," Dartz smiled with wicked playfulness, catching the confused expressions of both boys. It almost made him feel guilty for his next decision, but it was the best one, he knew. He braced himself for their horrified expressions before he finished the sentence. "In your care, Timaeus."

Heehee...I trust that should satisfy you all and keep you guessing until next week ;) Rest assured next update will be on time (Friday) EARLY!

I had SO much fun writing this chapter! Especially after how tough last chapter was this one was so much fun. I'm surprised how long these chaps are taking though...but oh well.

X x X

Grammar Knight's Note/s:

Aramaic – a family of languages belonging to the Semitic family. Very popular during the Ancient World period.

Tartarus – part of the Greek Underworld that Hades rules over; dungeon of torment of suffering for the wicked

X x X

Next Time: Tim and Yugi's reaction to Dartz's request, a new and familiar face makes an appearance and Timaeus has a little "talk" with his men after Haga and Rex's horrific betrayal.