A/N: A few more notes about this story:
It took me a while to update because I had to reformat how this story was going to unravel. The new version is much darker, and might end up being rated M in the end.
I have heard that most people seem to think that Ekou and Amon are from Israel. Therefore, I'm making them be from there in the story. I know I mentioned Christmas in the last chapter, but there ARE Christians in Israel...I looked it up.
The legal age of marriage in Israel is seventeen (again, I looked this up). Keep this in mind, as it will be important to the story.
Finally, I'm saying that both Ekou and Amon were born in 1988, so they'd be eighteen at the beginning of Season Three. It just didn't seem to work with them being any younger.
And that's about all! I'm glad I finally found time to write this chapter, and I don't know when I'll have time again.
As it turns out, I shouldn't have worried about Amon. It was like he was trying to make up for his previous inattention towards Sid all at once. From the very next morning after the incident in Sid's room, the two were virtually inseparable. Wherever Amon went, Sid was sure to be draped across his shoulder, or in his arms, or even in one of those infant slings. It made him look quite undignified, and I began to wonder just why he was so obsessed about this when he didn't actually harm Sid. What could a baby do for Amon that I couldn't?
Amon's about-face must have been confusing to everyone else in the house, since they didn't know about our escapade. It remained a secret between Amon, Sid and I.
It was fortunate that Sid had such good company. My parents were always trying to sugarcoat and hide the truth from the public; however, the fact remained that Sid was a very sick baby. He was diagnosed with a severe case of asthma when he was three months old. More often than not, he lay weakly in bed all day, inhaling medicine from his face mask. Amon soon became as skilled at setting this apparatus up as any servant hired for the job. The servants' thoughts on this were unclear.
I wish that I could have spent that much time with Sid. However, our paths never crossed enough to get to know each other well. I was growing up quickly, and my time was mainly occupied by the usual endless lessons on how to be a proper lady. Since my parents would marry me off as soon as it was legal, I'd have to be well-versed in all manners of etiquette as early as possible.
I couldn't help but to get slightly envious of Amon. Sometimes, when it was in the middle of the night, I would lie awake in bed, thinking of what it would be like to have children of my own. Maybe, I thought, marriage wouldn't be so bad after all. Who knows? I might get married to a really nice, handsome man who loves his family. Maybe someone who was a bit like...Amon.
At this point, I would inevitably turn over on my side and try my best to end this train of thought. I instinctively knew that it was not right to think these things about my adopted brother. It always made me feel some sort of vague longing from somewhere deep inside my body; a sensation I neither understood nor liked at the time.
Late that summer, Sid had a stretch of good health that lasted several weeks. Therefore, my parents could finally hold the party in his honor that they had been planning. This event would be the most lavish I had ever attended, and notable people all the way from Cairo and Dubai would be attending. And, perhaps most importantly of all, I would have to wear a really uncomfortable outfit.
"Can't you make it just a little looser?" I implored as a servant was getting me ready. The servant shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but this outfit was picked out by your parents themselves. This is what grown-up women wear, so be happy that your parents think so highly of you!"
I sucked in a lungful of air, trying to conserve what precious few oxygen molecules I could, as I looked in the mirror. This maid might say that this outfit was "grown-up", but I seriously doubted that actual adult women would wear this much pink! The bodice, the skirt, the trim-everything looked like it had been dyed with rose petals. I even had a wreath of roses pinned onto my hair. In my opinion, it made me look like a walking greenhouse.
Looking back on it, I can honestly say that it was a nice-looking dress. The shade of pink used wasn't the obnoxious bubble-gum kind; it was a pale shade that set off my complexion quite nicely. However, this was back when I was a preteen, and dead-set against anything I deemed to be "babyish".
When the servant was finally done with this torture session, I walked stiffly out of the room. I hoped beyond anything else that I wouldn't trip over this dress's train and fall flat on my face in front of all the guests.
I was moving so carefully and slowly, most of the guests had already arrived when I finally entered the ballroom. I had never seen that many pairs of eyes focused on me in my life. I suddenly became self-conscious of just how much the tucks and pleats on my bodice emphasized my budding breasts. I knew virtually nothing about such matters back then, but I did guess that this was not a coincidence.
Naturally, Father wanted to seize the opportunity to show all his children off. Sid would be cuddled, Amon would be praised...and I would be paraded around for any potential future husbands to see. In doing this, Father had (perhaps inadvertently) turned me into jailbait.
I shuddered as I thought that one of these fat, balding dignitaries who were currently leering at me could be my husband in just six years. I walked by them as quickly as my outfit would allow, and looked through the crowd for my family. Fortunately, they were easy to spot...Amon was the only redhead in the room.
"Ah! There you are...um...Ekou," my father (who still had trouble remembering my name) said when he saw me approaching. Father and Amon were standing together. Mother was a short distance away, showing Sid off to a gaggle of female admirers. For the second time that night, my thoughts turned to the future as I watched Mother. Would I be in her position when I had a baby...surrounded by annoying old ladies who wouldn't stop pinching the baby's cheeks?
Amon brought me out of my musings when he spoke.
"You...um...look nice, Ekou," he said hesitantly; looking down at his feet to hide his blush. Coming from him, that was a huge compliment. I assumed that he was blushing due to embarrassment.
Father gave one of his big, fake smiles.
"Yes, doesn't she?" he said loudly, "I'm sure that she'll be a hit with the guests! Now go and be a good girl, Ekou, and help your mother with hostess duties."
I was glad to have a reason to run off. Father had had more than a bit to drink, and I didn't like how he was looking at me.
The festivities had only just started, and already Mother looked exhausted to me. Worrying about Sid had taken a toll on her health. However, I was awed at how easily she was hiding this fact from the guests. She smiled politely at all the old ladies, no matter how annoying or prying they were.
Contrary to his usual state, Sid looked like the happiest, healthiest baby ever. Unlike Amon, he was as sociable as one could get. He babbled happily in Mother's arms, and seemed to bask in the extra attention he was getting.
Mother was so preoccupied, it took her a few minutes to notice me. When I did catch her eye, she looked genuinely pleased for my company. We hadn't spent any time together for months; maybe even years.
"I was wondering when I'd see you, Ekou! This is your first real party, isn't it? It must be intimidating for you-if you want, I can help show you how it's done." she said warmly. I eagerly accepted. She actually seemed to care about my well-being, unlike Father.
I had a pleasant enough time being the hostess-in-training. Mother even let me hold Sid for a while (the first time I had ever done so, strangely enough). I had to admit, it did make me feel very important to learn all this. Men just don't have the same knack for running these affairs as women do. While the men are off making their big business deals, their wives are in the background making sure things run smoothly. They may think that they can do everything, but they needed females for this. (When Amon is King, I am sure he will acknowledge this fact.)
However, all too soon it was time for dancing. Mother looked worried as she handed Sid off to a nanny. She told me that if I ended up dancing with a man who acted strangely towards me, I was to leave and tell her immediately about it. At the time, I wasn't sure just why Mother had said this. There was no harm in just dancing, right?
Poor Mother. Father took the first dance with her, but then she had to entertain a seemingly endless line of strange men. I wondered how she could move so gracefully in those high heels. At least my satin slippers were relatively easy on my feet. Nevertheless, by the time the evening was over, I had firmly decided that I hated dancing. It was boring, my face hurt from giving fake smiles, and my hairpins were seriously starting to poke into my scalp.
And then...there was the food. I had never seen such rich food in such large quantities before, and I learned the hard way that my eyes were bigger than my stomach. I ate so many olives that, to this day, I just don't like them anymore.
The party went on until the wee hours of the next morning. Father would have made us older two kids stay the whole time, but Mother convinced him to let us get some rest. I was too tired to even thank her properly. My only thoughts were of my bed, and my nightgown that wouldn't squeeze all of the oxygen molecules out of me. Both Amon and I slept in until late the next afternoon.
Father was very pleased at how the party had gone. He had created the illusion that he was aiming for...that he had three happy, healthy children. And now that the public had gotten that good image of us, he had to make sure that we maintained that image. While Amon buried his nose in thick finance books, I learned about a new topic; one that was altogether foreign to me.
I still had the same tutors and etiquette teachers, but now someone new joined their ranks. A strange old crone was hired to teach me lessons in assorted subjects. It took me years to find out what her true purpose was. Sometimes, she made me walk around the house with books balanced on my head. She claimed that this was good for my posture. Sometimes, she taught me how to sit; how to walk; how to talk. Mostly, though, she would give me these odd lectures that I couldn't make heads or tails out of. She'd sit me down and go on and on about how purity is the greatest gift a woman can give to her husband, and how I should remain "untainted" until the "right time".
Of course, you all can most likely recognize this for what it was...a very confusing and vague version of sex ed. But I had been sheltered for all of my life, and my best guess was that maybe she was talking about not saying curse words. I would just sit there and nod as she talked; acting like I WASN'T totally lost.
She never talked about the things that were actually applying to me, either. If only she had said that a lot of Middle Eastern women get slight mustaches, and it's a normal part of growing up, I would have been spared a lot of grief. If she had just mentioned that boys often develop later than girls do, I would have stopped thinking that I was freakish for growing up while Amon remained a child.
That was definitely my awkward time. The year I was twelve, I suddenly shot up fifteen centimeters in height, and for a long time I was half a head taller than Amon. Neither of us liked it when anyone pointed this fact out. Also, my feet were too big for my body, my elbows and knees seemed to be flying everywhere at once, and I had a bad case of acne. I was quite convinced that I was the most ugly thing ever to walk the face of the earth.
Okay, I can guess what you're all waiting for...you want to hear about my first experience with that. Well, you'll just have to be disappointed then. Even I have my limits. Sorry.
Also around this time, I began to get interested in boys. I would hang around the grounds, looking at all the muscular, olive-skinned gardeners and stable boys, and I began to get little crushes on some of them. I would even construct silly fantasies about what it would be like to get married to my crush du jour.
Of course, even I knew deep down that this was nonsense. I'd have to marry someone who would give more money to the Garam family. However, my parents saw no harm in innocent flirtations, so long as I always had a chaperon with me. We weren't cpmpletely in the Dark Ages after all.
Amon confronted me about this eventually. He marched up to me when I was in the garden eyeing my newest fantasy sweetheart; a servant named Gabriel.
"Ekou, you have to stop this..ogling. I have been trying to put off saying this, but I cannot take it anymore. It's making you look foolish!" he said sternly. His voice cracked slightly...he was finally starting to catch up to me development-wise.
I eyed him over the rims of my sunglasses, and pushed my hair out of my face (at the time, my hair was so long I could practically sit on it).
"What does it matter to you?" I replied.
"What does it matter to you what it matters to me? The point is, you're acting like...some sort of love-struck goat!"
I began to grow angry and shocked, because I assumed that Amon was saying I looked like a goat. Amon quickly realized his mistake.
"No, Ekou, you fool, I don't mean it like THAT! What I mean is...you are thirteen, for crying out loud! You should start acting your age."
"Why are you telling me this? If I recall, you're YOUNGER than me!"
"Exactly."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
By now, Gabriel the servant was staring curiously in our direction. Neither of us noticed him...this was out first real argument, and we were both spurred on by our active hormones.
"Ekou, can't you see that you'll end up doing something embarrassing if this keeps up?"
"What are you, my FATHER?"
"I don't have to be your father to realize that you're out of line!"
"Okay, then I have an idea! Why don't you just mind your own business?"
Finally, Amon seemed to be defeated. He said nothing more, and walked away in a huff.
Later that day, after I'd thought it over, I couldn't believe what I had done. Even today, years later, I find it difficult to accept. How could I have been so mean to Amon? He is NOTHING like Father! He is good, and fair, and just! He's practically a hero to me. If he thought I was out of line, then I must have been out of line. Amon has never been one to mince his words. He only says something if he really believes it.
I wanted to apologize to Amon, but he was clever at hiding from me. That night, as I cried myself to sleep, I vowed to do whatever Amon said if that was what it took for him to forgive me. If there was a goal he wanted to attain, I would help him reach it.
However, I would not get an opportunity to carry out this plan for a long time. Something definitely changed between us after that day. Amon seemed just as shocked by our argument as I was. We had never fought like that before, and we never did so again. There was a new formality in the way he treated me. We would never again play Duel Monsters together, or romp with Sid in the garden. He devoted himself to his studies, and I tried to do the same. As much as I hated it, our lives were diverging.
When we did encounter each other, there seemed to be a tension and awkwardness in the air...one that I became more aware of with each passing day. Something, somehow, would have to give way. Things stayed that way for what seemed to be an impossibly long time. They stayed that way, that is, until the year I was fifteen...the year that changed everything.
A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter was too short. Hopefully, once I get to the real plot of this story, the chapters will be longer.