UPDATE ON TIME YAY! Would've been earlier but I had plans!

Dedications: Special thanks to my beloved Grammar Knight for editing and getting this back to me so fast, and to my Beta for her help with the characterization. You girls are the best team a Queen of Plotwists could ever have!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

As always, read, review, reply, comment, critique, concerns and all flames must have a reason behind them or they will be ignored.

Chapter XXXII: Pathfinder

The Trierarch returned to the deck in an even fouler mood than when he'd left. No one doubted why, but no one dared speak of it. He stormed to the helm and his crew parted quickly like a frightened wave.

"How long 'till the river's end?" he snapped, and the Sailing Master shot up.

"W-Well," Ryou stuttered, struggling to compose himself. "The winds and the current are both favorable, and given our present speed—"

"I don't want explanations, Ryou!" he snapped an impatient roar. "I want an answer."

Ryou jumped and said automatically, "Another hour... at best," he added frantically.

"Good," came the curt, unflattering reply. "Then we'll reach the sea by nightfall." It was already well past midday and the Tanitic Lake, a miniature sea in its own right, would take at least a few hours to cross.

"Rhebekka will take the helm for the rest of the day," Timaeus said, quiet and blunt—an impersonal statement that addressed no one.

Ryou watched him turn and leave, confused and almost terrified to ask what was expected of him. The Trierarch stopped and transfixed him with a sharp look, like the Navigator's thoughts were but a mumble under his breath.

"Well? Make yourself useful." Dismissed with a harsh glance from his Trierarch, Ryou bowed his head and scurried away, pale face flushed with shame and hurt, and not even having the strength to square his shoulders to save his pride.

The State Room was unlocked and empty. Ryou was grateful for that. Behind the safety of the closed doors, his body felt weak and heavy, like iron chains had shackled his shoulders. He collapsed against the center table, his burden deposited carelessly. Cartograph scrolls and lambskin oceanography charts spilled open over the table's intricate carvings.

He dismissed him. His Trierarch's cold confession burned through all other thoughts. He dismissed him. Quietly. Privately. Like he was some haughty child. It was worse than if he'd screamed at him openly. It was humiliating.

"Stupid," he reflected with a bitter rasp. "So stupid."

Not since the day of their first summit had the Trierarch scolded him so coldly. He'd been an arrogant slip of a boy: well-bred, well-educated, and well-worldly—and recently promoted to act as Sailing Master for the newly-christened First of the Dragon Knights. None of which impressed Timaeus, but at sixteen Ryou was not known for his patience, and his new office had made him bolder. Stupider, he reflected, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. He fancied himself better, smarter, than some mixed-blood savages the King plucked from the streets of the Westerlands. Timaeus quickly saw an end to that nonsense.

Gentle fingers stroked his lower cheek and the curve of his jaw. It still ached from that day's scolding. The other felt the same sting: he'd been stupid enough to argue. He knew better than to argue this time, so he settled for falling forward and letting the table absorb his weight—tasks forgotten, anger and shame swallowed him whole.

He knew who to blame—who he wanted to blame—but no part of him could bring himself to accept the untruth. Not when his Trierarch had all but confirmed a fact: the Trierarch was in love with his consort. Whether he recognized it or not, Timaeus had fallen in love with the Kemet Prince he'd taken to wife. It was there, flecking clearly in his eyes under the burning disappointment.

But how? Why? It was the question that burned him most. He'd caught the boy in glimpses on those short days that he was Timaeus' ward. He was no more special than the other princes Ryou encountered: he was quietly bold, stubbornly strong, haughtily proud, expectantly demanding, and carried a strength required of one bred for authority. Yet there was something else about Kemet's youngest prince. He was handsome, otherworldly so, and he wielded it like a sword. His strength was his courage and his dignity he wore like a shield, but his true power was the sharpness of his wit, marred only by the impatience of his tongue. He carried the expectations of his rank with such dignity and courage, despite his own devastation, that for a moment even Ryou admired him.

Ujalah was a Prince-born, as much of Pinedjem I's son as the temple singer that bore him, and far too reluctant to be the money-grubbing tramp who'd become the source of Kemet's latest gossip.

They had been so stupid. He understood now. It was no wonder the Trierarch found such assumptions embarrassing, but what else could they have done? He was the First of the Dragon Knights, fostered and apprenticed to the King himself, and raised alongside his own daughter. A gallant princess and an honorable knight; raised together as children, lovers as adults, King and Queen of a golden age—it was like a Song. A Song! How long had they all waited in joyful hope for the coming of their wedding day—impatient and eager, and ready with gifts and preparations and careful dissections of proper garments? Yet it never came. Because that was all it was: a song, a children's tale, glamourizing a much darker truth. And when the Trierarch did marry, it was not to their princess, but to some shapely, saucy chit with pretty eyes?

A chit who was not his Magistrate, Ryou reminded himself. The word still tasted bitter in his mouth. He must've been a harlot. It was the only explanation. Certainly a manipulator? And absolutely a gold-blood. What else could he have been? Why else would the Trierarch marry someone who was virtually a stranger?

That had been stupider.

The Trierarch was not easily seduced. He had no patience for glittering flirts or timid maids who dreamed of princes and knights and wanted him to be gentle. He wasn't entranced by sparkling smiles and pretty songs. Many had tried. None lasted more than a day. Those that did never lasted beyond the morning, when it became clear that they had nothing but birth or beauty to recommend them. The Princess, Ryou only just now realized, had been both—and the lad was neither. He was not timid, save for his own inexperience, and not flirty beyond a seductive teasing—of which the Trierarch was a master. He certainly had beauty and birth, and he wielded both with the humble responsibility and dangerous ferocity that most men wielded a spear with.

Of course, the Trierarch has fallen in love with him, but why marry him? Why him and not the princess? That was the question that burned him most. They had been close, hadn't they? Was there even a chance, if Timaeus' blunt dismissal was any indication? No, Ryou shook his head. No—surely Timaeus had loved her once. Loved her still.

Doors creaked open and the comforting silence shattered. He spun to it and recoiled.

Yugi stood in the shadow of the open doors, half his form still secluded in the Trierarch's quarters. His eyes were shiny and red-rimmed and he wiped them carefully with the underside of his palm. His face was shadowed and his mouth pinched in a frown, but the skin looked freshly washed. His hair was unruly, like he'd been weeping, but he combed the tresses back with his fingers. He must've been weeping, Ryou thought, but he hid the evidence well.

There was a slouch in his posture, exhausted and drained and yet somehow, he still managed to look regal. That was when Yugi saw him and gasped. "What are you doing here?" The words spilled out of him—nothing contemptuous or superior, just incredulous surprise.

He blinked then studied the open maps and tools scattered across the table, and his eyes flickered with recognition. "You're the Sailing Master." A statement, not a question. "Ryou, he said your name was."

Ryou blinked at him in surprise.

"What?" Yugi snorted—half with amusement and half with derision. "Thought me too proud to bother with remembering your names?" Another observation that shed the cloak of a question.

Ryou, at least, had the grace to blush.

"I thought so," Yugi chuckled, free of derision. "I don't fault you for that." He turned to survey the rest of the State Room. "I'll leave you to it, then." He wandered about, admiring everything: the light pouring through the windows and how it illuminated the sailing directions wallpapering the walls, the collection of scrolls and codices stacked high among shelves and cupboards.

He gazed at them longingly, fingers tracing the titles and his nose scrunched at some of the languages. He pulled out titles he must've liked and occupied one of the nearby couches, the texts ushered into a neat pile on his lap.

Again, Ryou was surprised. This was not the brazen brat he'd seen above deck. What happened to his haughty attitude?

He opened a particularly large tome and rolled it open on his slender lap, then trailed his fingers over the intricate letters and traced navigational lines of maps. Again, his eyes narrowed, and nose scrunched up in frustration,

"What are you looking for?" The words spilled out of Ryou before he realized he'd spoken them out loud.

The lad's head popped up with a bewildered blink. His head tilted with a bird-like cock, almost innocent in its confusion. With another blink, recognition returned and Yugi spun the scroll about on his lap and held it open. The image was a nautical map: oceans, rivers, and lands. Kemet squeezed into the most southeastern corner.

"Where is Locri?" It was an honest question. It was then that Ryou saw what a map of it was. He could not find the voice to speak. Unfazed by his silence, Yugi rose to the table, shoved the books aside, laid the map upon the table, and pointed to the image of a very recognizable country. "It should be here, but I do not see it."

His voice returned and spoke independently of his thoughts. "That cartograph is of the sea. It does not hold the whole island." His arm robotically shoved aside the parchment and it rolled obediently into a cylinder, exposing the map below. The lad's eyes enlarged with amazement. It was the first time he had seen it in detail.

"Locri is here," Ryou explained, suddenly lighthearted. He traced a crescent of mountains with his finger.

"What's it like?" Yugi asked, almost dreamily. Ryou met his question with a scrutinizing stare. Yugi's smile did not change, but his eyes flickered with something other than laughter. "Timaeus has told me of her, but not much," Yugi explained. "I want to know more."

The words spilled out of him before Ryou could stop them. "The kingdom stretches from the coast, along the low rise between the two sisters here," he illustrated with his fingers, tracing the outline of mountains and circling two intermittent blue lines that could only be rivers.

"And these?" Yugi asked, circling the bumpy ridges outlining the base of the kingdom.

"The three peaks," Ryou explained, identifying each one. "The tallest is the House of our Great Leviathan, this is the House of our Lord Hades, and the last," he pointed to the mountain that most closely shadowed the city with a deep fondness, "Is for the Iron Lady."

"It all sounds lovely," Yugi said, low with sadness. "I long to see it."

Ryou felt himself suddenly return, like he was a specter and his body had been operating without its soul. "I am certain you will find it to your pleasure," he replied, curt and courteous.

Yugi snorted. "If it grieves you to be polite to me, I will not be offended if you'd rather not," Yugi said with blunt assurance. Ryou spun to him, his face a mask of shock.

Yugi shook his head with amused derision. "I'm not deaf. I heard the rumors. I know the stories. Timaeus was supposed to marry the princess and become your King. Like in the songs, the Princess and the Honorable Knight—true love, whose reign is a golden age. But he married me. I do not fault your hatred."

No other words were said. They were not needed, but the resignation of his voice—sad but acceptant—filled Ryou with shame.

Silence lingered between them, uncomfortable and tense. Yugi began rolling the maps and turned to shelve them, and that action spoke more of finality than just a simple errand. Ryou sensed a test.

"Tell me the truth," he said suddenly, but in control of his voice. "Do you love him?" There was no mockery or humor in his tone. This was a test, and he was determined to pass it.

Yugi turned to him. There was no surprise on his long grim face. "Whether I love him or not is none of your concern, nor does it matter what I think of him, and I'm past caring what anyone here thinks of me," he said with dull resentment. "I was a prince of Kemet; now I am his consort. He is my husband and I his Magistrate, and I accept and will perform whatever task that duty demands of me," he spoke, with such dignity and courage that Ryou despaired.

"But…" he stumbled for words. "Surely if you accepted—"

"I never accepted," Yugi cut him off sharply. "How could I accept when he never asked me?" He spun to face him, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and face mad with love. He was so different from the kind and curious creature his spectral self had known that Ryou stumbled backwards.

"He approached my brothers and sisters, but he never approached me! Had he only asked, I would have—" His voice rose, but then, as if realizing he was not alone, stopped and composed himself. "It matters not. We are married now. 'Tis the end of it."

His tone was filled with such an underlining sadness that even Ryou despaired. It was so low and barely readable underneath the neutral dignity of it that he would have never heard it if he hadn't listened.

He does love him, Ryou realized, distraught. Or at least, he had before. But something had changed… a lot has changed. And yet he's still here.

Ujalah—no, Yugi—was a Prince-born: proud, strong, and true. And a better man than any of them, Ryou realized. This was a test. And he failed.

He hadn't realized he'd been shaking until Yugi took his hand. "Are you alright?"

If he had been stronger, Ryou would've nodded and smiled. Instead, it took all his strength not to weep. As unseemly as he knew it was, it only took the simple sight of Yugi's concerned eyes and sad smile, and Ryou felt the strength go out of him. He forced himself to sit stiffly on the couch, but Yugi followed with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

They'd been so wrong, Ryou realized. He had been wrong, he understood that now. Understood what the Trierarch had so clearly seen and what he hadn't wanted to. He resolved himself then, wiping his brow with an angry hand and squaring his shoulders. "Forgive me," he said, and Yugi looked surprised. A protest formed on his lips but Ryou cut him off. "Do not—please, do not," he begged. His resolve cracked for a moment, but he regained his composure. "We had no right to disrespect you that way. I had no right… I regret that now. I do."

Yugi blinked and nodded. " 'Tis not all you," he confessed. "Timaeus was right; I was angry and my pride was hurt. I should not have taken it out on you."

"You were in your right," Ryou corrected. A small smile pulled at his lips. "I understand now… why he loves you."

Yugi gasped, but Ryou silenced the rising protest. " 'Tis fine. I know you are uncertain. I do not hold that against you. I am simply telling you what I've observed." His smiled brightened. "He is in love with you."

"I…" Yugi looked flabbergasted, the protest dying in his throat. "Thank you." He forced a small laugh and had the grace to blush.

He blushed prettily, Ryou thought. And he laughed sweetly. Yugi smiled then. A small, pleasant smile, and Ryou's heart leapt. He resolved himself then, to learn the truth of this odd child with an honest smile. To learn who he was and where he came from, without the bias of egotistic assumptions. He would discover who his new Magistrate was: if he was truly the bratty child they thought, or someone special who kept his heart hidden from all but the Trierarch. He suspected the latter, but he resolved to find out. And if he was the latter, then perhaps in time, he could earn his trust, give him counsel, and maybe—a small miniscule part of him hoped—become his friend.

He had not felt such pride in a promise since he swore fealty to Timaeus.

Didn't I mention there'd be a new voice ;) Bet none of you expected it to be Ryou's! I hope his POV made you think and answered a few questions you all had, and you enjoyed his interpretation of Yugi. He'll be playing a bit of a big role in the futuret to come ;) Also, itsFirst time someone other Than Yugi and Timaeus had a POV, and there will be others! Next one will be Rhebekka in chapter 7.

Also, I have to say I am so please with the reception to last chapter it isn't even funny! Mostly because, it came out exactly the way i wanted it to and I'm so pleased that everyone has for the most part gone beyond Team Yugi and Team Timaeus and basically accepted that they're both acting like idiots and need to talk (and believe me i'm just as frustrated with them as all of you are) Ironically though, the more people complain about Timaeus, it just makes me want to right MORE Timaeus, and the more people complain about Yugi, it make me wanna write MORE Yugi!

Also, little note, since there were some concerns about Timaeus and Yugi's clash of wills via make outs last chapter, keep in mind with these two, Timaeus and Yuugi's relationship started as a power struggle (not a bad one, mind you.) It was a constant battle of culture, sexuality, of the mind and of the body. Yuugi and Timaeus haven't found their balance yet because they're still struggling over what happened and it takes time to do that. And back to the scene, just because they're not talking about their situation doesn't mean they're not talking period. There's going to be smut moments because those two are sexually charged and there's chemistry and tension there. Just because they aren't talking doesn't mean they don't care for another. They'll still find their way. Timaeus has given Yuugi the best he has while on the ship and hasn't disrespected him in the has an intimidating personality and he has to be that way because he's a commander and those personality traits are going to sink into his personal life as well. He's a soldier and came from a hard life so that's going to show. Yuugi could have easily said, "Stop, I don't want this." he's pretty vocal about he wants and doesn't want in life and Timaeus respects that.

Overall, everyone's comments, and debates have been WONDERFULLY enlightening! They make me think and double-check myself and always give me ideas! And ironically the more people write complaining about Timaeus or Yugi, it honestly just wants to make me write more Timaeus or Yugi XD

Also, remember, with this story you can't look at things at face value, and i think this chapter did a good job showing WHY Yugi's really upset and its not BEING married to Timaeus. I have lots of plans for this story, so keep that in mind, and by the end of this all your questions will be answered soon (its hard to comment on some of them without spoiling it) but I really get such a kick out of everyone thinking the problem is that Yugi doesn't WANT to be married to Timaeus. XD

As always, read, review, reply, comment, critique, concerns and flames must have a reason beyond "the 'Yami/Atem' character is more dominate so he's the one at fault thing". Seriously! But again i love your feedback! It gives me ideas and keeps my thinking fresh!

Next Time: A special surprise is in store and many questions and concerns will be addressed but will it bring our wayward lovers closer together...or tear them further apart?