"...that is why I must face Bakura alone. I must eradicate the threat he poses to you and your kingdom before he has the opportunity to strike us again."
"We've discussed this. We need the combined power of myself and the six priests to defeat him. Mahaado, I know you mean well, but I forbid you from taking matters into your own hands. It's just too dangerous!"
"Great Pharaoh..I'm afraid I've already made up my mind."
"Oh?" Atem asked, raising an elegant eyebrow. With head bowed and gaze averted, Mahaado continued, "I'm prepared to disobey you and will endure whatever punishment you see fit upon my return."
"If you return," Atem insisted. Mahaado's wince was almost imperceptible. "Great Pharaoh," Mahaado responded, his tone formal and impassive. "I thank you for granting me an audience and I apologize for disturbing your rest at this late hour. Sleep well, my King." With those parting words, Mahaado straightened himself and with one last bow, turned and headed toward the door.
Staring at his friend's retreating back, Atem began to panic. In the deepest, truest parts of his soul, he knew this could be the last time he saw his friend alive. His heart started to break. He should have predicted Mahaado's recklessness ahead of time. Then, he could have…Atem saw Mahaado's hand grip the handle to the door and his thoughts dissipated. That door would lead him out of his chambers and into the dark, unforgiving night. Instinctively, he called out, "Mahaado!" The magician's hand stilled above the handle.
"Mahaado," the pharaoh began, his voice newly warm and relaxed, "I have an idea for how you can extend your service to me."
Mahaado's heart leapt into his throat. Extend his service? He couldn't mean…? While Mahaado had admitted his intentions to face the thief alone, he had kept one thing secret from everyone, including his pharaoh. The new trap - the one guaranteed to stop any thief in their tracks - was Mahaado himself. He'd been so careful to keep his research on immortality an absolute secret, even from his curious apprentice. He hadn't breathed a single word to anyone - not even Isis - about the red-haired, pale-skinned demon that haunted his dreams. He had hid the existence of yoma from his closest comrades and compatriots, just as he had hidden the true origins of the sennen items. He was the only one in all of Kemet who knew about the terrible power these yoma offered - the potential of becoming one to achieve immortality and serve the pharaoh as an undead demon warrior. Could the pharaoh really have found out?
Seeing Mahaado's figure go completely still almost made Atem lose his nerve. Though his back was turned from him, Atem was almost certain his friend's face had paled. Mahaado was steeling himself to fight what was most likely a losing battle. Mahaado's sadness at the insult done to his father's tomb nearly rivaled his own. Since that day, he watched as Mahaado's waking moments were consumed. If he wasn't increasing the guard and tightening security, then he was pouring over scrolls so ancient and brittle, they looked like skin shed from the golden body of the aging sun god. In the evenings, Mahaado escorted Atem to his chambers, as was their routine. Instead of heading to his own chambers afterwards, Atem received reports that Mahaado spent his nights in the temples undergoing rituals of purification even stricter than those he completed in the days leading up to his initiation into the priesthood. All this to apologize to Atem. All this to protect him.
His gaze shifted to an inconspicuous basket of linens, where his own handwritten strategies to confront the thief lay hidden. In the end, protecting the kingdom and ensuring the future of his people was Atem's duty as pharaoh. In his heart of hearts, he wanted to do more than that though. He wanted to protect his family - Mana, Shimon, and his six priests who cared for him and gave him strength. Each night, when his tears were spent, he reached for his pen and schemed for an outcome where not a single member of his family had to die.
Atem knew he should order Mahaado to rest. That would be the most sensible thing he could do as Mahaado's sovereign. A stubborn part of him, however, wanted to confine Mahaado to his quarters, lock up his chest of scrolls, and bar his way to the temples. Threaten to revoke his position as Captain of the Royal Guard should he make good on his promise to take on the thief alone. A selfish part of him, though, kept imagining what the silky strands of Mahaado's hair would feel like between his fingers.
It was the selfish part of him that spoke next.
Atem cleared his throat. "Mahaado, as I was saying, I have an idea for how you can extend your service to me." Atem straightened his posture and continued, "May I share it with you?"
Realizing he had been silent for an embarrassingly inappropriate amount of time, Mahaado gently turned around and walked back toward his pharaoh, his steady gait camouflaging the distress that had seized his heart. "Yes, Great Pharaoh. How may I serve you?"
The sincerity in Mahaado's voice caused Atem's heart to sputter. The thread of his thoughts unraveled. Mahaado's concern grew as the seconds ticked by. The pharaoh, who was normally so direct and assertive, whose burning red gaze melted the hearts of criminals and foes alike, was now barely looking at him, his gaze shifting uncertainty from the door to the locks of his friend's hair.
Atem's hesitation caused Mahaado's heart to constrict. Mahaado worried that his failure three days before was the cause of Atem's discomfort. He worried that Atem no longer felt safe. That Atem no longer trusted that Mahaado could protect him. Swallowing his bitter sadness,
Mahaado said reassuringly, "Atem…you have but to make your request known and, if it's within my power, I will fulfill it." At that, Atem met Mahaado's eyes. Mahaado's breath caught in his throat. The pharaoh had never looked at him with so much need. Mahaado felt slim arms encircle his waist. In the next breath, Atem pressed their lower halves together.
In a voice barely above a whisper, he heard his pharaoh say, "Touch me." Mahaado nearly combusted on the spot. Surely the pharaoh hadn't really said…? "Great Pharaoh…?" Atem heard Mahaado say, a shaky tremble in his usually stern voice.
"Touch me, Mahaado." Atem repeated, a bit more firmly this time. Mahaado tensed, his breath catching. "That's not an order," Atem clarified, slipping his arms from their place around Mahaado's waist. "I'm not commanding you as pharaoh. You are free to refuse."
A choking sound. A pale-skinned man doubled-over, his long red tresses tumbling over his eyes. His vision swam as the two figures in his mind's eyes disintegrated into splotches of color before disappearing from his mind completely. Marou sat back on his heels, contemplating this latest vision. He recognized the tall brunette from his first vision three nights before, when he felt the man's magic call to him. The man was undeniably powerful. Marou sensed within him a force that could uproot his soul from this plane of existence. Why that man would need to seek out more power was beyond him. But..it must have something to do with the other man in the vision just now, the one with golden hair, unmistakable authority, and the burning red eyes of a demon. The magician's dark lord perhaps?
He shook his head in disgust. Why was he even wasting his time trying to interpret these silly daydreams? His sole goal and purpose was Hikage. They would be reunited and transcend humanity together. The Kikuga no Miko and his best friend reigning supreme in an undead world. Nothing - not silly visions, not boy kings, and certainly not some mage with a death wish - would distract him from his destiny.