AN: Um…well, this is pretty late, and it was because I was lazy. XX Sorry! After Finals week, I just about died and took a break from the computer because I was just sick of it all. Here's the next chapter, and I'll try to stick to updating every few days. (I edit each chapter, and sometimes, I even erase the whole thing and start all over. This particular chapter took at least three tries to begin.) Oh, and I changed the first chapter. I decided to go without the conversation between the three peeps. So…yeah.

Chapter Three: Break In

With a sigh, a bored Bakura jammed a dull blade into a potato, slowly peeling it from the inside out. His hands jerked at it roughly, his expression looking as if he was ready to kill.

A rumble filled the air. "Now look here!" said the robust kitchen chief, a plump lady in her mid-forties. "You're ruining the food. Don't just stick the dang knife in like you're stabbing something! Honestly, folk like you ought to be sent to etiquette school first," she murmured under her breath.

Bakura growled at her as he dropped his current project. "This is pointless!" he argued. "I peel one, and there are four more to take its place! It's like an endless cycle of bull-"

"Welcome to the kitchen, never ending supply of food," said the chef sarcastically.

Lavender eyes narrowed. He had had enough of this already. Ever since he had been brought here yesterday, all he did was sit and peel and peel and peel some more while getting an earful about how a kitchen is the best place to be.

Just then, another cooking aid walked by and placed a full bowl of potatoes next to the endless others surrounding Bakura. He was about to go into another fit of frustration, and would have, had the snowy white hair not caught his attention.

It disappeared almost instantly. Bakura had to smile. His guess was that the little prince wasn't supposed to be out and about, especially right after that whole scene in public during the Crown Prince's birthday.

Even though he was watching for Snow White just out of the corner of his eye, the prince never came out again. It was getting really boring now, and Bakura had given up on the potato peeling.

"Are you enjoying your work, slave?" someone hissed from behind him.

Bakura straightened, growling. Sitting cross-legged with his back turned to the Crown Prince wasn't a favorable situation. He didn't have a chance to throw a comment back as he clouted on the head by a hand.

"Get up, mongrel," the Crown Prince ordered. When Bakura didn't move, he kicked the thief and ordered his two guards to undo the chains that held the slave down.

The thief could now see the Crown Prince clearly and up-close.

He had cleft chin that stuck out arrogantly, with two golden eyes. His high-set cheekbones accented his stubbornness and the way his shoulders were thrown back added to his egotistic figure. Even though he was handsome, the look of I-am-better threw everything off.

Bakura would have punched him, had the guards not held his arms at an awkward angle behind his back. Instead, he resorted to words.

"I have a name, dirtbag," Bakura said, glaring at the ground.

There was a scoff. "Look at me, thief," the prince ordered.

Bakura smirked. "I dare not, for fear of losing my eyesight." He wasn't about to lose to this pansy.

Nyq grew red as his guards snickered. "Shush up!" He gestured for his guards to follow as he led the way from the kitchen.

Struggling wasn't any good. Any movement sent jolts of pain running up his arms. Bakura grit his teeth as he was led deeper and deeper into the Palace, not knowing where he was headed.

But he had a good guess. Probably a dungeon.

When he was led through intricately woven wooden doors however, Bakura knew he was wrong. What the hell…Once inside the new room, the thief frowned. The bed, the desk, the balcony, the closet…His bedroom?

Nyq motioned for one of the guards to shut the door before he turned his full attention to Bakura.

He gave a thin smile as his hands swiftly brought Bakura's to the front. The guard behind him made sure to keep the thief's hands steady as the prince pulled out two metallic silver contraptions that resembled loops. The Crown Prince opened one of the loops and jammed it closed around Bakura's thin wrist. Pain shot through the thief's nerve system as if he had just been stabbed.

The surprise on Bakura's face pleased Nyq. He grinned as he did the same to Bakura's other arm. "Do you…like fire?"

The flicker of fleeting fear was enough to make Nyq's smile wider.

"Welcome to hell."

At that moment, despite anything Bakura would have later denied, the thief was scared shitless.

--Ryou's Room, a few days later--

"This sucks!" Ryou pouted, crossing his arms over his small chest. There was no response from Marik. Not what he wanted. It had been quite a few days since he had last laid eyes on the snow-haired man, and he was getting irritated. "Marik, let me out!" Ryou whined, his patience running thin.

"You can't leave this room," the Captain of the Guard said. His eyes were steeled against anything that the little prince would throw at him. "Your father said you are grounded, my prince. That means you stay in your ROOM."

"I'm sooooo bored!" Ryou wanted to scream. He was on the verge of tears. One stupid mistake of not noticing that someone was watching him peer into the kitchen had led to his confinement.

Marik didn't say anything. His excuse for keeping the little prince here was the fact that he was grounded…but his real reason was the curiosity of Ryou. The child had too much inquisitiveness for a human. Marik had to keep him away from the Crown Prince at any cost right now. He didn't want Ryou to see what Nyq might be driven to do to the pissant that they had caught a few days ago.

The child was so close to throwing a tantrum. He was going to shatter his lamp, his bedstand, anything within reaching distance if he didn't get out. He hated being confined like this.

He was about to say something when someone screamed. The noise tore through the air, only lasting a brief second. It sent a chill down Ryou's spine, and the child shivered. Agony clenched the little prince's heart hard before releasing itself. Pain hammered down on his shoulders and he let out a cry.

Marik winced. The scream had been cut short, thank the gods, but it still hurt his ears. Whatever Nyq was doing to break in the new slave, it was working. When he shook his head and looked back at Ryou, he was stunned to find the child was dumbfounded on his bed.

"Ryou?" Marik asked, worry obvious in his eyes.

Ryou slowly looked up from his hands, his chocolate eyes blank. Tears rimmed his eyes before he defiantly wiped them away. Sliding off the bed, he made sharply for the door.

Marik would have just watched him march away had his mind kept wavering. Quickly, the Egyptian blocked his prince's way. "You can't go out, my prince," Marik sternly said, looking down at Ryou.

"I don't want Bakura back dead!" Ryou shouted, taking a step forward. Marik threw an arm out, barring Ryou's path. Firmly, the Captain shook his head.

"Slaves don't have a name, my prince," Marik murmured halfheartedly, not believing his own words. Gently, the teen urged, "You mustn't leave. It was your father's decree that the Crown Prince do whatever it takes to break in the slave."

Ryou stared at the ground. "He's dying."

Marik didn't budge.

Slowly, the little prince met his eyes.

The Captain of the Guard almost had to take a step back. The fire and determination in Ryou's eyes was something he wasn't use to seeing. With his mouth set with resolve and his eyes daring Marik to disagree, the little prince growled.

"Let. Me. Out."

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AN: So what do you think? Am I a little rusty? Okay, so the next chapter will be up by Monday at the latest. I will try to update every few days from now on, because I've been pretty bad about that… . Sorry once again, folks. It was my laziness…