Enjoy kids, I'll be interested to see what you think about this one!

Also, want music for this story?
Track Suggestions: Best of Sailor Moon "Dead Moon", the "Prayer for Sultan Murad V" composed by Bey in 1820, Faun "Unicorne" and the "Von Den Elben" album
Yugi Suggestions: "Witch Hunt" English version by JubyPhonics


Chapter 4: Exhalations

The Sultan's chambers, upon Atemu's entrance, were blooming with sunlight rather than dark and musted. Apparently the little white witch had some rumination about light and about air. All which from Atemu's understanding of British medicine was entirely counterproductive given, as any educated man knew, sickness writhed in the air and complete protection from the elements saved souls. Still it was just one of million things which an understanding of British sciences had taught him were wrong in his homeland. His father would've be in better straights with the Brits, with their doctors and their witch-less haunts.

Alas however Atemu was not still with the Brits and he may, he realized, never return to Britton.

His father, a king, looked withered and small in his grand white bed so unlike every memory of him that lived in his sons.

Atemu lost, in private with his father, the kind of tenacity he wanted at that moment. It was impossible to regain however when, weak headed, the once powerful man raised his slack frame towards his intruding offspring.

"What boy?" The gravel was still in him as he rasped.

"Majesty," Atemu made his progress closer, "I need to speak with you."

"You always need something," Qazzadara chuckled slumping.

"I wanted to apologize."

"And what else?" The Sultan snorted warily.

"I…" groaning Atemu came to take a seat beside him in the creaking chair he was sure that not long ago the white witch had occupied. "Father, please, from the bottom of my heart I-"

"Oh gods…" He wheezed, moaning; "if you are off again on the trollop go away!"

"I love her," he pleaded with his hands splayed up in his lap. "I will find some way to be where I wish if I have to skip a boat and elope. Father, I don't care much for the throne if I have no happiness to stick me there. Can't you this once let me-?"

"No!" He hefted himself up slightly onto one elbow, hoarse and pointing. "I'll have none of this. After all your disrespect and your snapping you ask me to change a standard of everything I hold dear. You ask me, ignorant or lame of what you're asking, to make a piss of my fathers and children and grandchildren I won't do it boy."

"Father," Atemu murmured from his bedside, "I'm begging you only for your blessing before I lose you."

"She's not right." He coughed, spluttering on the angles ground up inside his throat, sagged in the deep plush of his bed. "I won't give any union which would make her Queen my blessing. She can't run our courts, she can't advise your sisters, she can't defend you or your sons, she's not fit for it!"

"Please," Atemu ground his teeth, "for the peace of the nation-"

"You can have my appreciation or your strumpet," Qazzadara harrumphed, "but don't expect it both ways boy. I don't like her. Have her as a wife, I care not anymore, but don't be so foolish as to think she should be the only one."

"If you were in love," he attempted, "honestly what would you do? What would you have me do? I promised her. I can't betray her."

"You want my advice now?" He scoffed, "after flouting the rest of it?"

"Yes," Atemu pleaded in earnest. "Please."

"The only way I'll ever approve of her is if you take a primary chosen at my discretion." Qazzadara cut to it swiping his hand across weakly the air to end the matter. "That's it."

"I can't. She believes one man should possess only one wif-"

"Then you'll have one wife and no blessings." The stubborn, languishing, mule huffed brokenly voice frayed.

"Father-" Atemu grasped though neither of them could ever seem to let the other finish.

"I'm sick of you," he spat, "out and let me die. Out! Out!"


Atemu was barred from entering the Sultan's rooms hence by the towering tongueless eunuchs of the traditional royal guard. He was not however barred from the succession. Qazzadara would die and Mahado would leave and Atemu would be left still forced into the seat, negotiating his marriage with the women of the Great Lesser Council.

So when in ten days the Sultan was no better Atemu sent for Anzu to come to court. The wives would not have her at the feasts for fear of offending his father however and condemned to tiny courtier's rooms away from him she took the whole sordid thing better than he deserved.

In fourteen days the Sultan was still languishing though the physicians insisted to Atemu he shouldn't be. Apparently the white witch had tried to get him standing but Qazzadara refused. The white witch was supervising him mostly now and talking to him at great length, the Sultan having sent the rest of them way, which was the worst possible course Atemu could've imagined. It was wicked.

The witch carried the Sultan his food, the witch stayed with him till all hours, the witch was there when none of Atemu's trusted brothers or sisters were present with their father and Atemu was yet the only one barred from seeing Qazzadara. It infuriated him. It terrified him.

They had tempers both and perhaps, this time, Atemu would never make amends…


After fourteen days of hard toil the wives had cornered her. Lurek and Yasil had caught Yugi as she stepped out to allow Zarzak some private conference with his ailing father and king. They had taken her arms, held her taunt, and prodding her in all manner of ways had said she looked wretched almost in bedclothes.

Yugi bathed with them, she ate with them. Her prolonged disappearance alienated her from court and caused them worry. They reminded her as much that she should come to the bathing chamber where they could scrub her back. They said she must come eat with them, take the afternoon, and Yugi knew it was so they could assure themselves that she herself hadn't caught something dreadful or exhausted herself caring for the Sultan. They'd tie her to a bed if their consultation over the night declared her in need of rest. So she refused, politely. She couldn't possibly leave.

Yasil and Lurek informed her Mana'jet, heavily pregnant still, was increasingly distressed by her absence and reminded her how bad unnecessary stress was given her first babe. It was a low, filial, blow Yugi groaned in their grasp over and could not deny.

They promptly packed her up to dinner.

Under the tresses of the curtains, on the cushioned seats in the grand halls, Yugi's eyes ached and her voice fading rapidly from hours reading aloud she drank to loosen her gullet in hopes of preserving her throat for the next morning. Qazzadara would want more stories. He was insatiable for them now and she was feverish to deny him nothing; not kisses, not embraces, not every story she'd ever told, fabricated, or recalled from her childhood till he was sated. Arguing with him about how often his sons should be permitted to see him in his humiliatingly weakened state had gotten them nowhere. Trying to stir him had gotten them nowhere. All Yugi's skills had improved nothing. He would not rise from bed, he would not sway from his decisions and he would not let her hand go.

Gossip was Mahado was fasting, praying still in the temples, and was not attending court. Atemu and Seth and the other elder boys were forced to oversee the men by extension. Yugi felt, of course, vulnerable at the prospect and would not be convinced to do anything but nestle in a corner feeling Mana's babe kick. Kisara felt Yugi's forehead twice before the meats were sent about on the trays.

She rested her head onto Mana's shoulder and let her eyes flutter briefly. They took brief sympathy.

"-Atemu's got her at court, despite the Sultan," Kisara whispered. "Seth assures me the King still disapproves, his brothers confirm, and of course we know she is here; we run the house."

The Lady Anzu still settled for gossip but it was tenser now. Somehow, during Yugi's absence, Atemu had succeeded in making the poor, innocent, creature more disliked.

"I don't know what he expects," Mana'jet muffled mostly to Yugi as they attempted to spin her what they felt she, as one of the order, needed to know after her hermitage with the Sultan. "The Lesser Council will never approve the marriage to this girl. There'll be nothing to do with her even if the Sultan, gods forbid, dies."

"Hmm," Yugi sighed exhausted and embittered to apathy, "what a state were in…"

"What a state, what a state," Kisara repeated sombrely unimpressed. "He'll anger his brothers at this rate and we'll have a blood feud for his insults."

"It does not impress me already," Mana grunted.

"Or me, or Seth," Kisara raised her glass. "To flaunt the girl on the Sultan's deathbed…" She spat, reaching for a slither of meat with her abled hand as tutting she shook her head.

They fell into something gentler. They prodded Yugi to eat as they talked of house expenses and sticking her hand under Yugi's saris Kuli felt searching to see if Yugi's ribs were pronounced yet. She groaned, eyes sighing back, and let the woman fondle her carefully like some doting mother.

The conversational tone around them changed in the outer ring of the hall, the atmosphere sinking towards the centre where Yugi sat and instinctively she knew a grand nobleman was heading their way. The ladies clamped their tongues in the presence of men. It was tradition that they were never quite caught working.

Realizing it to be Atemu approaching, Yugi dried further into exhaustion. She wanted to return to the nest of the Sultan's white bed and whisper if only because now, the Prince's presence close by, she anticipated pain.

The prince made his greeting, the members of the gentler sex amassed smiled, and sweet nonsense ramblings began till the man seemed to notice Yugi finally. It was an illusion, a skilled courtier's trick, because Yugi was sure Atemu had been as aware of her as the prince would've been of a hot poker brushing his skin.

It didn't start well;

"Yugi," Atemu purred, coming between their parting ranks.

Yugi's eyes shot up, instantly set to the razor's edge and felt her knees lock subconsciously together. Something was wrong. Atemu did not so generously seek her out. Not with that voice reserved for little sisters. Yugi was not the kind of beast to trust this owner either and tilting her chin she wasn't immediately assured of how to respond. Mana's arm folded through her protectively, seemingly subconsciously and Yugi found the will to force a smile.

"Your Highness," Yugi greeted.

"How are you this evening?"

"As well as I can be you liege," she dismissed casually, "you look very sturdy thankfully however. I hope your Majesty is holding up well under these hard times."

"Thank you," another king's smile, "might I have a dance my friend?"

"Oh…" Yugi twittered. Mana held tighter. "Majesty, I'm sorry, I couldn't. I'm feeling the heat today, dizzy."

"Then I'll have to hold you tight," Atemu decided offering his hand over the table, "please; I insist."

Kisara and Sesset exchanged glances.

"If she falls, brother, it's on you," Mana'jet warned jokingly, though her fingers flexed round Yugi in an attempt to nestle her tight as Yugi gripped the princess viciously under the rim of the table trying not not let her smile fall.

"Never," Atemu promised, hands still out. "If you would, Milady?"

"Of course Majesty," Yugi forced a flutter, squirming out in an elegant traipse from near the window to the open hands. She almost did fall but found her feet well enough to reach the prince. How could she say no?

Atemu took the small of her back underhand and then coming round on the tiles rather delicately pulled Yugi close to settle into position. The music was quiet, no one was terribly festive. Yugi took his hand, felt his warmth and eyes darting skimmed Qazzadara's unoccupied throne. Atemu tugged her closer, snapped back her attention.

"Something wrong?" He supposed.

"Nothing Majesty," she promised.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Why on earth would you think that?" Yugi tried to be light.

"Because there's something in your eyes that says you'd rather dart to the other side of the closed sea this instant." Atemu glinted through a smirk.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to send any impression of the sort," she laughed weakly because it was true.

"My father's getting very sick," Atemu continued darkly.

"He's getting old," Yugi corrected, "unfortunately."

"Aren't your tricks working anymore?"

"There's nothing I can do."

"Can't or won't?"

"What exactly," Yugi narrowed trying to peel back an inch that Atemu wouldn't allow her to, "are you suggesting?"

"I think you can guess." Atemu rumbled.

"I'm offended you feel that way." She answered sharply. "Why would I ever hurt your father? He means a great deal to me."

"I don't put much faith the depth of your affections."

"Well then surely even you can see it would be madness at least?" Yugi grunted trying again, uselessly, to put space between them as Atemu's fingers steeled them navel to navel outside inclining ears.

"How so?"

"I have the good fortune, I admit, of being loved kindly by your brothers and sisters." Yugi shrugged, "but none of them are to be sultan and you… Well, if I ever gave you so much as a wet match you'd find a way to burn me alive with it."

"You think?" Atemu tilted.

"There's something in your eyes." Yugi repeated with a grimaced grin.

"There must be," the prince agreed leaning very close. "You know I saw you speaking with the Lady Anzu by the river?"

"I expected," Yugi held her chin, "I didn't make any secret of it."

"Then I don't suppose it's any great surprise if I tell you that if you come within ten feet of her again I'll kill you?" He had the audacity to smile gently, Yugi's hand in his, Yugi's body close to his stronger chest as if she was delicate.

"Majesty I'd rather not be within teen feet of your shadow on any given day of the calendar." She smiled back. "Now, if you're done, I'd like to sit down."

"I don't know what you've done to charm any of them, I don't know what you're doing to my father in that sick chamber," Atemu clarified, "but I'm not so vulnerable to parlour tricks from Satan's brothel."

"Then you'll make a fine Christian." Yugi snorted, trim features hardened to a pressed line of the lips. She'd heard that kind of vile nonsense in her youth a thousand times over from older, stockier, men with just as little sense if less paranoia.

"Have a lovely evening squatting in my home," Atemu dismissed, dipping his head as if courteous to an outside observer. He raised Yugi's hand, still in his grasp, and almost kissed the back of the palm before Yugi untangled it abruptly.


Yugi thought that, when she slunk back to the Sultan's rooms, she was relatively unaffected by Atemu's wildness but…

In the morning Yugi slipped her feet onto the tiles of his chambers and swaddled herself up in two thick coats just as the dawn started to split across the darkness of the sandy earth over the walls.

There was not a soul yet awake, the kitchen fire had yet to be lit, and not for another hour or so would the wives be bathing together in the baths. It would not be till after then, washed and fed amongst the scented water, that Yugi's attendants would show themselves to help her dress. For now it made no difference to her.

She skirted the quiet passages of the palace, under the beautifully blue arched verandas opening onto the garden courtyards with their manicured stones where the sun hazed into focus slowly. Her slippers held her feet so well they sweated lightly and the cold air of the night would fade in a while as the stagnant heat of the day set in.

Yugi slid through another set of veils, pass more screens, weaving down another passage. They didn't like doors here in the East. The openness of great rooms allowed music and air to flow unobstructed. Little rooms were hot, dense, cramped, easy to heat but hard to cool while large spaces could be altered so many ways with the paper walls Yugi passed now.

When she dropped down the flight of steps towards the courtyard nearest the river she knew intrinsically somehow that Mahado would be awake. She knew too that Mahado would be here. It was a sense more than a hope. Still when she saw the prince, hardly dressed and mostly bare chested, it was a relief so great she sighed half swooning across the grass.

"Majesty," she whispered, clutching the jackets tighter against some imaginary cold.

"Yugi," the man jolted, chuckling quietly to extend both his hands in welcome. "You are up before the gods and in such a state too. What have I done to deserve this?"

Yugi slid her hands into the larger set of the grown man's. They were almost as black as Qazzadara's but held all the virile strength the sultan had lost these past few years. Mahado had been such a talented young prince on his horse Yugi remembered her lips pressed as she squeezed the larger fingers cradling her like swallows.

"What's wrong my friend?" The prince tilted closer, innately a creature of sympathy and kindness.

"Oh Majesty…" Yugi groaned gently, eyes wafting shut on impulse. She had wanted this moment alone to speak so desperately and yet now here before the sweet man she could barely focus her tired body. "Oh Majesty…"

"How now," he hushed, taking both of Yugi's hands into one of his as the other swept round her shoulders. "What's wrong here sweet friend? You look so sad this morning. What have I done? What can I do?"

"Nothing, nothing," Yugi moaned eyes squeezing shut as she slumped her brow into the man's exposed clavicle. "Mahado I… Oh, gods, I'm weak. I'm afraid."

"Of what?" The prince laughed gently. "What devil? My father would burn a temple down for you little one and I am sure my brothers would help. If you could make your case well enough even I would gladly raise a torch."

"Of tomorrow," Yugi hissed, "you don't understand that… Gods Mahado please don't leave here. I'm so afraid of what will happen if you do."

"I am not leaving tomorrow sweet," he promised, "not for a while yet. There are many more tomorrows. What makes you so scared? Have you seen something for me to come?"

"No," Yugi shook her head bitterly, resting her cheek on the man's chest. "I can't see anything and it terrifies me."

The prince squeezed her closer and childishly Yugi slung her arms up the man's back to feel his shoulder blades. Mahado was a good man, a good prince, a good friend.

"Yugi," he chuckled gently, tipping her chin up. "None of this, all's well."

"He'll die soon," Yugi whispered tightly, "he will, I know it. I can see his eyes fading these days. Then you'll leave and- oh gods, please don't leave us. If you leave I… Please, everything will change, and you'll be such a good king and-" Her voice was caught up, breaking, as she choked on herself.

"Shh," the man dismissed very delicately, "everyone must die, even my father. He has had a good, happy, life and I have no doubt the gods will be envious to have him. You need not worry about that."

"But the throne-"

"All will be well."

"Don't go," Yugi begged twisting her chin to slump her face forward in the man's chest, "please. I can't bear to ask this of you, I'm sorry, but please don't leave us. You should be king. You'll be such a wonderful king…"

"Hush," he soothed, dark hands petting Yugi much the same way his father did. For such a gentle soul Mahado was much like his father in the oddest most reversed ways. "I can't stay friend. I can't. I was not made for state-"

"You're wise," Yugi murmured hotly. "Everyone adores you-"

"I am a much better man away from the world," Mahado hushed over her. "Here, at court, I become something I don't like. I'll do more good out there."

"But…" She squeezed, she so…

She couldn't bring himself to raise her head but she knew, she'd known before arriving, that the battle was lost. She wouldn't dare truly drag a good man from something he loved and Yugi had known for months that this had all been set and decided. Mahado didn't change, not his mind or his soul.

"Atemu's a smart man," Mahado intoned generously, "my brother is sweet in his own way, romantic, and he is not so savage or so vicious that he would let that overwhelm his sense. He's worldly. He has much more restraint to recommend him than myself."

"He hates me," Yugi whispered, hissing up to the soft face as the first of silent hot tracks burnt their way wetly down her cheeks. "He hates me Mahado. I couldn't bear it. I'll never survive."

"No, hush," the prince straightened firm but understanding, "my brother is no savage. He would not kill you little one. Our father cares for you so and if Atemu respects his memory he would never dare. Besides that you have so many friends. My brothers, my sisters, my kinsfolk all love you dearly. Life here cannot go on without you or Mana'jet or any of us who are close to each other now."

"I know," Yugi sniffed lips wavering in a warble as the tears burnt the corners of her lips, "but he'll…I love this place. It's part of me. He'll ruin me, he'll ruin it. I'll come to hate it here, he'll make sure I'm miserable and I couldn't stand it." She turned her face into her hand, beside herself. "He'll drive me out. He'll make this beautiful home of mine no longer mine and he'll… Oh gods he'll- I can't even-" she cut himself off in a hiccup.

"Shh," Mahado laid her head back down, "shh little one."

"I'm sorry," Yugi moaned into his chest, sighing still. "I'm sorry to be so selfish with you."

"Nay, shh," he patted back her hair. "You are Gem Faher. This is your home. The gods, you must trust, are wise and you are wily and all will be well."

Leaning a little Mahado cupped her cheeks to raise his face for inspection as Yugi sniffed.

"You must trust your friends," he assured softly, "my family loves you. Trust them. Everything will find its way."

"I have nowhere else to go," Yugi whispered, "and I love you all so…"

"Then don't leave us," Mahado smiled, thumbs rubbing to swipe at her fresh tears. "You belong here. Not even the gods can rip a man from his homeland. They'd have to rip all the blood from you little foundling."

"I…" she gave up, sighing into the rest of Mahado's palm.

"Just hold on with all your might," the prince murmured, "and Atemu will get sick of trying to shake you off. Should the worst happen; he's got no patience. You'll out endure him."

"I don't want to hurt the the family with a feud…"

"You won't." The man promised. "He'll hurt more, disturb more ground, trying to dig you out of your hole. Trust me."

She nodded, sloppily, and sniffed like a ridiculous child but, gods, when the light started to come up over the walls and break across the tiles in a splay…She loved this place too much. It was all too magnificent. The idea of leaving hurt so desperately Yugi couldn't fathom it. After a childhood roaming and wandering lustfully across the continents of Europe she couldn't imagine taking a step outside these walls now. She'd be devastated. Just the light arching through the ferns made her tighten up into new tears.

She'd fight Atemu tooth and nail to stay.


"-and so they lived happily till the end of their days."

It was the last thing Yugi would ever say to him, squeezing the curled hand as they exchanged glances and smiles.

The book was laid down. Yugi's head slumped forward eventually in the afternoon warmth through the great crosshatched glass windows. Her cheek rested on the sheets, her hand on the old king's.

She wasn't sure how long she slept but the sun was still a little before setting when she woke, befuddled, to brush her face and stroke Qazzadara's knuckles.

He was already cold.


1 He wasn't around long but I very much like Qazza and I hope at least you a tad sorry for the old king.
2 Things intensify slightly from here out~

Next Time: Anzu sees two great spectacles of the East, Atemu enters into formal discussions concerning his marriage with the Great Lesser Council, the princes are riled, Yugi holds tight and makes Mahado an offer…