This one was an absolute BITCH! It took over a month to write and then i ended up rewritting the entire damn thing and thanks to my new job it took like three weeks to do it! But its done and i love it SO much better now :)

I planned on updating this morning but life got in the way and decided to be a real bitch. but what can you do?

Anyway

Disclaimer: You know the drill, all i own is the plot

Dedications: This one's for Val who was the only reason i got through the revising process with this chapter (seriously i lost count how many it was!) and once again to Armamitha Ispwich for her Grammar checking!

As always read, review, reply, comment, critique, ask questions, name your theories and go nuts!

Chapter XXX: Arrangements

"Oh, friend, stop scowling," Rhebekka chided with a twinkle in her laugh. "There are worse things than being sent to your room."

Like a child sent to bed without his supper, Yugi wanted to scream. It was humiliating.

"I will not be treated like some errant child!" Yugi twisted once the doors shut behind him, angry fingers writhing, desperate to rip something.

"And what did you expect?" Rhebekka retorted with a bored shrug of her shoulders. "You won't win any honors going about raging and snapping as you do."

Yugi whirled on her, stunned and cold with rage.

"Don't look at me like that," Rhebekka snapped, eyes narrowing. "Had Timaeus not interfered, they would've attacked you. Blindly, too. What would you have done then? Did you intend to fight them off with more sharp words and petty snaps to save your pride?" she chided with a bored, gentle patience.

"I would've handled it had he not interfered!" Yugi claimed defensively. "They'll think less of me now!"

"And what damned difference does that make?!" Rhebekka roared to her feet. The emerald pools of her eyes burned with a wisdom well beyond her years and hardened from a rough life at sea. "You became our Master and we your subjects the moment you married our Trierarch. It was you the Trierarch chose, and you the men must impress, not the other way around. They know that, whether it pleases them or not."

Yugi responded with a stubborn snort. Rhebekka exhaled a slow sharp breath and gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

"You're a brave lad, Yugi, and a strong one. But there's a time and place for these things. Timaeus is the Trierarch, you are his Consort. It is he who keeps everyone in line. You, like me, maintain order and take care of everyone. It is your right to chastise them for their insolence, but not to bully them to your will with insults."

An argument formed on Yugi's lips but all that came out was an aggravated huff. He hated that she was right, but what else could he have done? He was supposed to be the Trierarch's consort yet he couldn't even command his own soldiers to respect him. It didn't sit right with him having men who only obeyed him because they were forced to. Who Timaeus married affected them, as well—Yugi respected that. More so, he'd seen how Timaeus commanded them: they respected him not out of fear, but loyalty. They were just smart enough to fear him. It was a power Yugi could never hope to wield on his own. Worse, he thought with a sense of dread, how was he to assist governing a nation when he couldn't even get the ship-hands to obey him?

"They hate me Rhebekka," Yugi whispered, his body heavy. "They hate me because they think I'm something I'm not!" he retorted with a snort. "It was Timaeus who wanted it, not me!" His whirled away from her, fingers wringing to fists and his words cold and hard with anger. "He didn't even ask me! Just made an offer for my hand and that was it!" He clenched a raised wrist, his fingers trailing delicately over the shabka band—the only evidence that he belonged to another. The rage in his voice was so profound, Rhebekka almost missed the undertone it was meant to cover until he whispered. "He didn't even ask me."

"Perhaps," Rhebekka said evenly. "In all honesty, I was angrier he'd waited to tell me than the way it was done, but I don't blame you for being angry. However, if you wanted more say in your wedding, perhaps you should've taken part rather than isolating yourself in your quarters, stupidly thinking it would get you out of a marriage."

Yugi spun to her, shocked. She arched a brow of disbelieving disapproval. "He told me nothing if that's what you think." Her tone was flat, her eyes even. "He forgets who I am if he thinks I didn't know he'd wed you, soon as the sermon ended. It was all your city was talking about. He's as daft as you were if he thought I wouldn't find out."

Yugi said nothing, his face scrunched, flushed pink with the scowl of a bruised ego. The shameful part was that he had thought that at the time. Remembering each spiteful tantrum, he understood his sister's frustration and his fiancé's dejected silence. Time he could've spent planning things with his sister, or courting with Timaeus, or even talking to Pas about details… but instead, he'd chosen a pitying isolation. He was ashamed of that now. They had liked the situation even less than him and his tantrums hadn't helped. Part of him wished to pretend he'd never been so childishly stupid, but the other felt cheated and craved vindication.

Yugi groaned in defeat and Rhebekka favored her friend with a comforting smile. "It matters not now—you're both married, like it or not—but be easy, my friend. I know him well and your Lady Sister was not wrong: 'tis a good match, and for what it's worth, I'm glad he married you," she giggled with warm, playful eyes and a beamish smile. "You both deserve a marriage that's as passionate as well as advantageous."

Yugi responded with a snort of derision. "You're wrong, Rhebekka," he retorted dryly. "It wasn't passion that made him marry me, it was duty."

"I won't believe it!" Rhebekka interrupted, with such commanding finality that Yugi jumped. She whirled to him and clasped his hands in hers, giggling—though her eyes remained triumphantly stern. "Trust me, Yugi. I may not have known him long, but I know him better than most. I've seen the way he smiles at you, the way he teases you… and though I don't like the way of it, I know him well enough that he didn't marry you just to save you." She squeezed his hands comfortingly. "He cares for you, Yugi. You may not see it, you may not want to see it, but I do. If he wanted a simple marriage out of duty between friends, he'd have married the princess," her tone sharpened with honesty. "But he didn't. He married you. He chose you, and only you," she finished with a profound truth ringing in her words.

Timaeus was his alone—even Yugi's pride couldn't deny how tempting that fact was. He was loyal. And honorable. He wouldn't shun Yugi away and busy his time with whores. Yugi remembered the harems that flocked his father's court when he was a child. He'd seen the mistresses and concubines foreign kings had flaunted alongside their daughters and even their wives—their stone faces bewilderingly contrasting the bright smiles and confident eyes of the Per-A'Ah's Royal Wife and those of his own mother. He was too young to understand the truth then. Timaeus wasn't like that. He would care for him, honor him, have only Yugi in his bed—and only if he allowed it, Yugi reminded himself. And not for the first time, he wondered again, if he made Timaeus his lover, would he protect him? Or would that be another mask for behind closed doors?

"I never asked for this," Yugi said stubbornly.

"None of us are here for asking," Rhebekka said flatly. Yugi felt ashamed.

She took his hands again and bid him to lift his face. Her eyes softened. "You loved him once, and though I know you won't admit to it, I know you love him still. Your trust had been wounded and that has made you angry. Aye, you hurt each other." She squeezed his hands, her words between a demand and a plea. "Speak with your husband. Let him explain. Let him be your friend again. Forgive each other."

Yugi said nothing and looked away. He didn't want to see her expression. She sounded so much like his sister that, for an instance, Yugi hated her. His old hopeful self wanted so much to believe her, but anger festered bitterly in his chest and it wasn't ready to unclench its glorious hostage yet.

"I don't want to talk to him—now or later," he snorted stubbornly.

Rhebekka dropped his hands. "You're a poor liar, Yugi," she sighed in frustrated defeat. "Alright, let's not speak of it anymore. We have far more important things to discuss." She opened her emerald eyes, scrutinized his profile with a critical nod, and summed him up quickly. "Has Timaeus spoken to you of your affairs yet? Clothing, customs, your sleeping arrangements? Anything of the sort?"

"Well… he tried…" Yugi felt suddenly flustered, like a child being caught for a crime he thought he got away with.

Rhebekka didn't ask for elaboration. Exhaling a grunt, she gestured a hand to his tunic and shenti—Kemet's style, but in Locri's colors. "And those?"

Yugi tugged on the fabric, suddenly self-conscious. "Timaeus had them made for me. He thought I'd be more comfortable for the time being."

"A sweet gesture," Rhebekka flashed a smile then strutted across the room. Ignoring the glory box in the corner, she threw open the wardrobe and fished for anything beyond the forest of under-armor suits. "We'll start with wardrobe then. You won't win any honors flaunting your status as a Prince of Kemet."

"Kemet is my home, Rhebekka," Yugi snapped defensively.

The girl did not flinch. "Aye, but you're a Lord of Locri now." She looked at him with compassionately stern eyes. "Best you look the part."

Yugi sighed and stumbled back on the couch. It was cruel compared to what he was used to. He wondered how miserable Timaeus must've slept those nights he gave Yugi his bed. This was his life now, he realized. He'd known it already, but knowing what had to be done and embracing the changes were different beasts, and it was clear which one was fiercer to tame.

So lost in his musings, he barely heard Rhebekka chirp, "Besides, that shenti and linen won't last a day against Lord Zephyros."

"Lord Zephyros?" Yugi blinked, bewildered by the odd phrase. Was it an Atlantian proverb? Or one more exclusive to Locri?

Rhebekka turned to him with a blink then scoffed at herself. " 'Tis the West Wind," she explained. "Or what they call them anyway. They're fierce devils and the worst of them are in the West Mountains and Locri is in its shadow. Believe me, you've not seen a mountain until you've set your eyes on Aspromonte," she chuckled.

A Kingdom built in the shadow of a mountain? On top of a lagoon? It had sounded like a fairy tale in Timaeus' tales. Was such a place truly possible? Yugi wondered. Locri is a Kingdom of Wind and Water. It sounded nothing like the hot sandy deserts and luscious green jungles of home. He suddenly felt an ache of homesickness but shook it away. Wasn't this what he wanted, after all? To see new, exotic places?

Rhebekka gave a cry of victory, halting his musings. She pulled free a set of flowing champagne garments and tossed them into his arms. "Try them on," she commanded gently, and Yugi fumbled to catch them. The material felt light and slippery in his arms, almost sheer, like he was holding nothing.

"And don't bother being modest," she snapped before he could move. "I've seen more men naked than I can count and you're not an exception," she hurried over.

Yugi rolled his eyes and studied the different pieces. He put on the top first: loose and flowing with long sleeves whose cuffs widened like ruffled wings and hems trimmed with gold. It hung unflatteringly loose about his torso until Rhebekka secured it with a golden brooch. The bottom was worse: exposing his stomach in a curved golden V around his hips, it was cut into two pieces, both secured by gold ties from his hip to his mid-thigh with the train pooling dreadfully around his feet. Amun, even the skirts worn by women in Kemet were not so long. To his relief, Rhebekka provided him a pair of undergarments and light, skin-hugging materials she called leggings to go under it.

He examined himself in the brass mirror with awkward scrutiny. "This feels…" he started, shifting clumsily. "Strange." It was all he could mutter. The style was odd: so many layers and so much skin covered. In Kemet, he'd barely worn anything—now only his stomach was exposed.

His skin prickled, unused to the material on his bare arms. Every step exposed honey-gold skin and the drapery retreated and receded in little ripples with each movement. Only the leggings stayed taut. He stretched his legs, unused to clothing that hugged his skin and found it uncomfortable.

"You'll adapt well enough," Rhebekka assured him over his shoulder. "They'll protect you from those harsh winds. Our garments are long and loose, but they're thick and they flow. They don't fight the wind but embrace it as a friend." Her smile was as wild as the wind she kept talking about.

He didn't doubt her. Despite the extra cloth, it was much lighter and warmer than his linen. Sheer, slippery, and delicate, he half-expected it to collapse from a single tug, yet it remained sturdy. The color complimented his skin well. The gold brought out his eyes, yet…

"Is this truly what I'll be wearing?" He turned to her in a desperate plea.

Rhebekka rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she snorted, like the question demanded an obvious answer. "Timaeus will provide you with plenty of outfits, all in similar styles. This one is simply for everyday wear. Such as roaming the ship, visiting the city, conversing with the people—you know, daily things?" She spun with a bright wink. "I'm sure Timaeus has already sent word to have the couple's chambers filled with clothes for all occasions.

"Couple's chambers?" Yugi cocked his head in bird-like curiosity. Then understanding bulged his eyes. "You mean a shared bedchamber?"

"Yes," Rhebekka giggle and elaborated. " 'Tis the custom in Atlantis, before you were a guest under Timaeus' protection. That's why you stayed here the last time. Now you are his consort. His protection has extended to you permanently. 'Tis no different on the mainland. Once we reached the Magister's palace, his current rooms will be emptied and new joint quarters will be created for you. Surely you've heard of shared bedchambers?"

"But…" Yugi blanched in surprise. "What of dining and meetings? Surely there are separate quarters so he'd not always be burdened with me?"

Shared bedchambers were a more romantic notion than a reflection of status. The Per- A'Ah's bedchamber was not just his private rooms, but where he crafted laws, sat on his throne, addressed his people, conducted business with his priests, and met with foreign diplomats. Only a small part was reserved for privacy and even those were separate from where he met with his wives and concubines. Even the Harem was designed so that the Queen's Apartments were a place of business as well as home for the Per-A'Ah's female relations and staff and all his children. Separation was a necessity.

Rhebekka shook her head, still smiling. "Nay, there are separate rooms for that." She elaborated when Yugi's eyes continued to bulge. "There's one for dining, for study, for entertainment, and for business. They are all different spheres of the Magister's house, and because of that, they are kept separate. The Masters' Bedchamber is no different, but they alone are yours and your husband's. You will have your own apartments to dress and sit and do as you will, but only a single marriage bed there. Not even servants may enter without direct order from both parties."

Yugi only half-heard her. "A shared... bed?" He parroted, more bewildered than scared.

"Aye," Rhebekka giggled. "The tradition is done in the representation of our goddess when her husband spirited her away: they had separate chambers until she accepted her husband and joined her rooms with his. It symbolizes that the two are now an indispensable part of each other's lives. As for why the shared bed, well..." she giggled with a girlish blush. "A more romantic origin of the custom has the man proving his love by carving his bride's nuptial bed from the hollow of a tree. Once it's done, he brings the bride there for their First Night. The home they share is then built around it. 'Tis also why the consummation is critical: it marks the moment when they begin their lives together."

She took in Yugi's expression: wide-eyed and jaw open, and stifled another laugh. "Oh, don't look so scandalized," she teased and playfully punched his arm. "It represents your utmost status in his life and your position in Locri. You can consider this trip practice if it will calm your nerves."

It didn't.

"Don't tell me he doesn't tempt you," she said with a sultry syllable.

Back stiffening, face flushing, Yugi shook his head, denial and disbelief causing his eyes to bulge. "Oh Ra, Rhebekka, please let us not speak about that! I've just barely begun to grasp the fact that I'm married to him let alone…" Laying with Timaeus. Having sex with Timaeus. Making love with Timaeus. Ra, no matter how he said it, the very idea sent his head spinning and his heart pounding, but he had no intention of yielding to the man's advances yet. "Of course, he tempts me! How could he not? But it matters not. I don't trust him. Legal or not, this marriage will stay unconsummated if I have anything to say about it."

"Oh, don't be boring," Rhebekka said flatly. "No one who ever said that lasted until their wedding night. The Iron Lady knows I barely lasted until mine."

Yugi spun to her, aghast.

Her smile curled to the mischievous face of a teasing imp. "I'm only telling you, there's no sense in abstinence, especially when you have someone as handsome and vivacious as the Trierarch for a husband." She smirked and giggled. "He's a tender lover and a passionate one. I may have no direct knowledge but I can assure you, you have nothing to fear from that."

Yugi snorted, blushing furiously. "I'm not afraid of—wait," The defense died abruptly on his tongue. "You are married?"

She laughed. "Yes, did I not tell you? Well, I've been married these last three years."

It made sense, Yugi thought. It would've been only a year or two after she'd become a woman at that age. It was a common thing for women. It was only men who married later and only because boys had to learn a trade. It was necessary for them to be well-off before setting up home with a wife and running the business.

"Would've been four, but I told my grandfather to make him wait. 'A man will never appreciate what he can get cheaply', Grandmama always said. I thought a year would be best, but six months into it, we could barely contain ourselves and I saw no more point in waiting," Rhebekka explained with a girlish fondness, laughing. Her eyes were dreamy and radiant, her cheeks bloomed pink, and her smile was prettier for it. She looked so much like a little girl in love that Yugi saw nothing of the fierce lioness or mischievous imp he'd come to call his friend.

Yugi smiled at her. "Must be hard," he said comfortingly. "Being apart from him."

Rhebekka sighed, lonely and dreamy with disappointment. "Aye, I miss him, but someone had to watch the city while the Trierarch is away for, nay, three months. Who else but his First? He trusted no one else. 'Twas how we met, you know?" She giggled again then plopped with a groan of frustration on the couch, her legs elegantly crossed.

"Alas, it's been well over a month since I've felt the touch of a man." Her sigh was dramatic and breezy, then she looked at Yugi with a coy smile. "Least you have the chance to sleep with your husband."

"We are not speaking about this!" Yugi said immediately, straightening, then changed the subject. "What else will my duties be?" he asked, doing his best to sound dignified.

"I'm afraid I only know the basics so I cannot give you any details," she explained. A plate of dates had been left on the desk. Breakfast, Yugi assumed, but he'd ignored it that morning—too grief-stricken to eat. Rhebekka pulled a round, plump one from the middle of the pile and devoured it in only a few large bites.

She was halfway through her second when she asked. "First, let me ask: how does Kemet divide her duties—that is, between the fairer and sterner sexes? Politics, education, medicine, births, things like that?"

Yugi replied automatically. "They are all done together," he recalled vividly. "There are household rituals, as well as festivals, organized in the Houses of Life. Hem-netjer are both men and women, but births and marriages and funerals are overseen by Mut's hem-netjer, and the exorcism of disease is the duty of Sekhmet's. The home is the business of mothers and daughters—business, fathers and sons—and all children of the Per-A'Ah and of courtiers are taught to read and write, but only boys may become scribes, and politics and war are reserved for the Per-A'Ah and his chosen court. The Royal Wife, King's Mother and God's Wife, have great influence at court, however." Though such positions were religious first and political only in name, Yugi vividly remembered how his Father valued his wife's counsel. It was not direct power—they could not change laws, or make degrees even in women-related topics—but their opinions were voiced and their counsel heeded.

"I see," Rhebekka nodded, neither impressed nor disinterested. Juice trickled down her chin, and she finished her third date before she continued. "I'm afraid Locri is quite different in its division of labor, and stricter. Locri is an old city and its customs older still. Some are so ancient, I doubt they could be changed if tried."

She wiped her lips with her hand and reached for the bowl, but turned in surprise when she found it empty. "Strange, I did not think I was that hungry." She looked at her lap, suddenly embarrassed. "I did not even ask if you wanted any."

Yugi chuckled. "It's alright, I was not hungry." He sat next to her. "My duties?" he asked.

Rhebekka elaborated. "Atlantian custom is very specific. Men are warriors and Masters of the external sphere: politics, war, and the like. Women are internal rulers: they are healers, priestesses, mistresses of the household and business, and musicians. You are the younger person in this marriage, thus, you hold the position of lesser responsibility. Timaeus is Magister; his duties are war, politics, enforcing laws, providing judgment, disputing settlements, maintaining order, and organizing education, trade, and defense. You are Magistrate; you will organize marriages, tend to agreements over dowries, run the household expenses and the staff, plan parties and feasts, and take care of everyone. Births, funerals, healing illnesses, and agricultural affairs will all be yours to maintain."

Like a lion pride, Yugi thought, recalling Sekhmet. It was Timaeus who defends the city, maintains order, and keeps the people safe; and he would be the Lioness who organizes the staff, plans events, and provides care, he thought with cool resolve.

"And what of the staff?" he asked, hinting at further elaboration. "The servants, gardeners, and workers? Where will they reside?"

"In their homes, of course?" Rhebekka gasped as if he were daft.

Yugi's jaw dropped. "They don't live in the palace?"

Rhebekka threw back her head with a humorous laugh. "Nay, of course not! We'd have to house the whole island if that were the case, and there simply isn't enough room! Besides, they have homes and families of their own, but don't fret. The Trierarch makes sure they all have beds and tables, if that's what you're worried about."

Yugi's bewilderment did not ease. "The whole island?"

Rhebekka nodded. "Yes, everyone on the island in some form is part of Timaeus' house or his guard or part of the trade, and the work is circulated so everyone may honor their Magister by serving him and honoring their Gods by tending to their families. That will be part of your duty, as well: tending to the families and rotating the staff."

Yugi could only stare. Shared bedchambers, separate occupation rooms, and rotating servants who had to travel to work… It all seemed surreal to Yugi and completely unheard of back home. The common folk of Kemet did not starve nor were they poor, but it wasn't uncommon for them to get domestic service positions in the homes of the monarchs, the Gods' Houses, or even the Great House. Often, whole families would move in together. Having the staff continually have to walk back and forth between their homes and the Trierarch's seemed unnecessary and inconvenient for the staff. Yugi immediately resolved to change that.

Rhebekka squeezed his hand and smiled. "I know it is a lot, but you will learn. Timaeus will help you," she promised with a playful wink, and Yugi rolled his eyes.

"That is all for now." She hopped up and made her way to the doors. "I am needed at the helm." They opened with a shove of her arms. "For now, rest and enjoy your chambers, but don't dismay. The Trierarch will join you shortly—I'm sure you'll have lots to talk about." She ushered him inside with a playful smile.

Yugi snorted.

Rhebekka giggled. "Fair enough. I've said my piece. Take it as you will." The words were playful and dreamy, like a cat who knew all its master's secrets, but in it was a finality that was both defiant and sad. Her hand reached for the door and she stopped. "What happens next is up to you, Yugi." She gave him a long look of both sadness and hope. "I tell you this as a friend: don't give up on him or yourself. Don't ruin both your lives just to punish him. No pride is worth destroying any hope you may have of a happy future."

With that, she was gone and Yugi was alone.

Yugi flopped onto the bed with a frustrated groan. Rhebekka's advice rang clear and unsubtle in his thoughts. A blush crept hotly over his face. Did he even dare to dream of a happy future with Timaeus? It was all he had dreamt about once. Perhaps Rhebekka was right and he still did. It made him wonder what might have been had his siblings not divulged their lies.

Would Timaeus have courted him properly once his guardian status was no longer between them? Beyond their sweet kisses and comforting words? Would anything have come of those playful passions? Or would they have parted as friends once their affair had run its course? Would he still be here, regardless? Perhaps as a guest and not a wife? Would Timaeus have even invited him? A weight, thick and heavy, settled in Yugi's chest. That fact had pained him most of all, and yet, nothing in his mind or in his chest could summon an answer that pleased him.

It awakened another fact he was loathed to admit. His treacherous body hadn't forgotten the way Timaeus aroused it. It had all but memorized the electric pulse of those lips on his, the gentle caresses of his hands, and the warm touch of his strong, hard body pressed against his own. And his troubled heart remembered the comfort those gentle touches had brought, the safety it felt in the shelter of his arms, and the freedom and devotion it only experienced in his lips. It was enough to send him swaying, and yet it still held that lingering, petrifying fear that it was all a mask to shatter his defenses. And with that, came the uncertain chill of what would happen when that mask came off.

Yugi shuddered, but was it from excitement? Or dread? Perhaps both. Timaeus was an unsolvable mystery. A puzzle whose pieces no one knew how to fit, or even knew where to start. Yugi had always liked challenges, and Timaeus was a defiant one. There were times when he was merciless and sarcastic, and others when he was tender and sweet. In some moments, he was collectedly cold and others, as wild as a boy mad with love. As Trierarch, Timaeus was harsh, but he wasn't cruel. The Shadow, his justice, was swift and brutal, but righteously so. The Dragon Knight commanded with an authority as fierce as his will, and his will was as indomitable as his devotion to his King. But the Guardian was different: protective, but passionate with a rogue's wit—quick and teasing and never sharp. And the Man, whose shadowed face and crestfallen eyes Yugi caught in glimpses, had listened to his tears and consoled him, but never advised him.

They were all faces, Yugi realized with a Game Master's scrutiny. Masks he shifted as effortlessly as the tide receded. But how many of those faces were masks and how many were pieces of his true self? That was the question that burned him most—even more so because he'd yet to solve it.

Another dark thought filled his mind. Was that how Timaeus saw him as well? A challenge to be conquered and tamed? His chest ached. Why else, he thought solemnly, would he marry me without asking me?

The resounding thud of heavy doors opening broke the stillness and he could ponder it no further. At first, he thought that perhaps it was Rhebekka leaving, but then he heard the familiar, rhythmic clicks of iron steps growing not louder, but closer.

Panic swept through him and Yugi scrambled for a place to hide. He heard the doors click open, and with no more time to think, he dove beneath the opened covers and feigned sleep.

X X X

Timaeus thrust the Great Cabin doors open with a resounding bang. They slammed shut behind him. The desire to throttle his men was still hot in his blood, but he controlled the urge and expelled his rage in a long, heavy sigh. It could wait, he decided. For now, he had to see to his little one, whose own mood he doubted was any better than his.

Rhebekka paused in the center of the room, her hair loose and draped in one of those odd long-sleeved floor-length gowns she only wore when she worked in the kitchens.

"How fares my little one?" he asked her with a smile.

"Stubborn as you, and twice as feisty," she grinned. "I suppose you could do worse for a Magistrate." She didn't elaborate, but straightened quickly and showed herself out with a bow—but not before she whispered a warning that could've been a plea. "Be kind to him."

She was out before he could catch her. What did she mean by that? He wondered. Did she honestly think he'd be anything less to his consort? He prayed that she didn't. With Yugi upset and his men stupid, he would need her help more than ever.

He hesitated outside the door to his room. Then he remembered it was their room now and smiled. He entered softly and found the little lump hidden in the silks. He spotted the linen puddled on the floor. Curious, he thought. Had Yugi decided to strip before sleeping? It was mid-morning and the sun was hot. He deposited them at the edge of a bed in a neat pile.

Timaeus smiled and began stripping his mail. Once down to only his under-armor, Timaeus joined him. The bed creaked when he sat down and the mattress dipped under an added weight, but Yugi did not stir. Timaeus' gentle fingers found Yugi's soft, golden bangs and brushed them away from the young face with a feathery touch.

Yugi was young, Timaeus noticed. Young, but quick of wit, as nimble as a cat, sharp-tongued like a viper, and had large blue eyes and fine dark hair and soft, sweet, delicious lips. And mine, he thought hungrily. Only mine.

There was no sense in denying his want—it had been there the moment he'd glanced at the face of the wild creature that attacked him blindly in Mut's temple, and how could he not desire him? Yugi was all beauty and wit and courage and ferocity wrapped in one delicious little package. And he was his. Only in name for now, but he would wait. As much as the savage in him wanted that fire in his arms and between his sheets, the man in him was patient and would do this right. His sweet one deserved a proper courtship and he would need a gentle awakening.

He heard the swallow of an embarrassed squeak, and stilled. "Yugi?" Timaeus called out to him. Slowly, so as not to frighten his lover, he slid closer and peaked under the blankets. To his surprise, Yugi was not naked, but draped in fine Locrian silks. Carefully, he stripped the blanket away and revealed the full garment, piece by piece, in all it delicious glory. It was sleek and smooth, falling in pale ripples over Yugi's caramel skin.

A breath caught in his throat. He looked so lovely in it. The garments had been originally cut in the style befitting a Magistrate, but Timaeus had insisted on the leggings for a more masculine look, knowing Yugi's dislike for long flowing gowns that he considered feminine. Gender had minimal effect on the different styles in Locri, but he thought it would sooth Yugi's disquiet easier. He didn't think he'd ever see Yugi look so comfortable in an outfit of his own country, yet seeing him in one, watching him as he lie in one now, and Yugi wearing it like he'd done it his whole life—it made Timaeus want to unwrap it from him.

Then he froze and smirked. He knew he hadn't imagined it. It was tiny, well-disguised, and barely audible under the sheets, but his sharp ears caught it: a startled squeak like a mouse frightened by a cat.

"Yugi," Timaeus called again with an unamused patience. Still no answer. With a defeated sigh, he rubbed Yugi's shoulder with his thumb.

Yugi's skin pricked from the touch, but unsure if it was apprehension or delight. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he prayed Timaeus didn't hear it. Not daring to open his eyes or scrunch his face, he let his body fall limply, and fought with all his will not to jump when he felt gentle fingers weave around his shoulder and carefully coax him to lie on his back.

Timaeus' free hand wove through his hair, twirling the bangs with spidery fingers. His hand was coarse, but the touches were gentle and trailed down his cheek almost lovingly. They pulled away to steady the body above him. A physical weight settled on Yugi's chest over his heart. Soft hair tickled his nose and Yugi eyes popped. He looked down and blushed.

Ear pressed to Yugi's chest, Timaeus listened to his heart beat and smiled. He shifted, and Yugi closed his eyes immediately and continued pretending.

"I know you're awake, sweetling," Timaeus said, amused. He pulled his head back and braced his hands at Yugi's sides. "Your heart beats like a rabbit fleeing a jackal."

The body under him gave a small tremble but stubbornly refused to move. Timaeus shook his head with an amused sigh. As much as he admired Yugi's determination, this wasn't the time for stubbornness. "Very well." His lips curled into a wolfish grin and hovered just above Yugi's ear. "I did warn you," he whispered as soft as a kiss, and pressed his lips to Yugi's throat.

Hardest part about this chapter was deciding the POV. I wasn't sure if it should've been Yugi's the whole chapter or if it should've been Yugi's then Timaeus or what, for a moment i even considered making Rhebekka a POV character, but eventually this is what i settled on and it worked. Originally this was gonna be longer but i decided that cliff hanger I left would be more fun,

Plus it turned out MUCH longer than i thought it would be to explain the customs and cultural differences between Atlantis and Ancient Egypt without it sounding boring, and it turned out there were a bunch i didn't even think of. I based a lot of Atlantis' customs off Locrian customs particularly with woman's roles, and ancient Sparta, the marriage customs were inspired by my favorite of the Greek Myths and the only one with a happy ending: Hades and Persephone, but the marriage bed custom was taken from the Odyssey (how Odysseus carved his marriage bed from a tree and their estate was grown all around it and Penelope uses this to test to make sure its really him). The fun part is no one knows what life was like in Locri at that time so, though i can use the ancient city as a reference i can pretty much make it up from scratch as i go.

Glossary and Grammar Knight's Note/s:

Shabka – a valuable jewelry gift given by the suitor to his fiancée. "Shabka" literally means what attaches you to the other person.

Zephyros – also Zephyrus or Zephyr; the Greek God and personification of the West Wind and Spring Winds. He is considered the gentlest of winds among his brothers, but since our story's setting is in Atlantis and not Greece, the West Winds are quite strong in Locri. I dunno, just ask Teenie about it.

Aspromonte – a mountain in Southern Italy

As always, read, review, reply, comment, critique ask questions and flames must have a reason.

NEXTYugi and Timaeus' class of wills turns a little heated in more ways than one. Some new rules are explained and just when things start to look up-they get worse.

NEXT UPDATE: JULY 25th