Disclaimer: I don't own YGO…duh!
Chapter 6: Brotherly Love
Malik opened his eyes slowly, vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was the retreating Kazejin. What is wrong with me? Malik mentally slapped himself in the head. How could I have been so stupid?! He stopped himself, and considered. No, anyone would've fallen for that. She was untied, and she didn't run. My brother would've ate that up faster than me, he thought wryly.
Malik gasped at the thought of Marik. If Kazejin found his room, she's in terrible danger, he thought. My brother is sick when it comes to women, and certainly not modest. He will probably hurt her in ways I can't even imagine. Malik glanced around. Where is Kaze, anyway? She couldn't have gotten out of this room…I did lock the doors.
A breeze gusted into the room, and Malik's eyes caught the open window. Sighing, he checked the room for possible hiding places, but couldn't find her. Kazejin must've used the ledge. He found the girl to be rather strange; after all, what kind of young lady climbs out a window? He would expect that behavior from a slave.
Malik shook his head, untangling himself from his thoughts. He had to find Kazejin, and quickly. With her attitude, she would quickly piss Marik off, and, as a result, he would surely draw out his plans for her, making them slow and painful. Though he had known the girl for about an hour, he had a feeling no one, not even Marik, would easily subdue her; if Marik couldn't get her to do what he wanted, he would probably beat her until she did. And, though insolent, Malik did not want to see Kazejin, or anyone for that matter, hurt too severely.
Without another thought, he jogged out of his room, quickly reaching Marik's. He pushed open the door, but they wouldn't budge. Marik had locked them as a precaution, just as Malik had done a mere thirty minutes ago. Cursing to himself, Malik was considering his next move. He ran to a guard, who was patrolling the household.
"Open this door," Malik commanded. "I must speak with my brother immediately."
"I am sorry my lord," the centurion replied. "Master Marik specifically requested that no one disturb him."
"I don't care," Malik growled. "I need to speak with him, and you will open the door!"
"My lord, I cannot."
"If you don't unlock it, I will throw you to the jackals and…"
"Malik!" a deep voice called. "What in Ra's name is going on here?"
Malik turned, and stared into the eyes of his father.
"Father," Malik began, "I believe Marik has stolen my gift. The girl escaped to his room to save her little friend, and now my dear brother has her. She is my property, and as such, should've been returned to me. He has taken her into his chambers, and if her touches her in any way, it will be considered a crime against me, and I shall take appropriate measures to punish him in accordance with Egyptian law."
Lord Ishtar glowered at Malik. "Come now. All this fuss over your little salve girl? As my more sensible and accomplished son, I expect more out of you, Malik. Let it go. I can get you another woman."
"Father, you don't understand! I need to have her back. You saw what she said to me in the atrium; the way she talked to me! She must be taught who the masters of this home are! You of all men, Father, should be able to understand how wounded your pride can be when a girl speaks to you in such a manner. Especially a slave woman! She said that to me as if she had a right to! She still believes she is equal to me, and I can't tolerate it! I…"
"All right, Malik. Enough. Stop whining like a petulant brat." Lord Ishtar's eyes had grown hard. Malik knew he had hit a nerve. After all, his mother used to talk to his father in the exact same manner; as a result, they had divorced quietly. Malik, however, was not all that concerned about the matter. Since the time he had learned of the divorce, he never saw his mother again. Perhaps that was why he did not care for women of any sort; they were fleeting and temporary. Malik felt as though they were all prone to abandonment and loose morals; after all, they gave him everything so easily, so why wouldn't they give other men the same? Malik had never seen a functional relationship at court; he himself had slept with married women. They couldn't be anything special to him, because he was nothing special to them.
Lord Ishtar turned to the guard. "Open the door!" he thundered. The centurion jumped, and immediately unbolted the outer locks. Malik prayed the inner locks weren't in place; otherwise, the door wouldn't give.
Luckily, they gained access to Marik's room quickly, and Malik charged ahead of his father and the guard, not sure what he would find.
Marik laughed, triumphant. I can't wait to have her! Make her bleed. Make her scream. Forget my brother…this prize is all mine. Malik hit the slave again. She didn't even whimper. He frowned, wondering why she didn't react to anything.
Marik grabbed her ear, and used it to tug her close. "Still no reaction, baby?" he whispered. "I guess we'll begin our little session, then."
Without warning, Marik gripped the fabric near her breasts, and tore it quickly. The thin silk was like tissue paper in his hands. It easily gave way, and her entire front was exposed to him. He chuckled, and began to bite her neck, cupping one breast in his hand, bruising it, and digging his fingernails into
the skin there. The girl didn't cry, but silent tears made their way down her cheeks. Marik could feel her tough façade collapsing; it was only a matter of time before he broke her, just as he desired.
"Marik, release her!" a voice commanded sharply. Marik turned to face his brother.
"No," he sneered, "you let the bitch escape, and she wandered in here. I couldn't let her walk around unsupervised. You can watch me fuck her, if you want, and then you can go afterwards." Ignoring his brother, Marik turned back to the girl, and licked her neck possessively. She squirmed, and Marik hit her again. "Sit still," he hissed.
Suddenly, Marik felt his brother pull him off of the slave. Slamming him to the ground, Malik wrapped his hands around Marik's throat. "Don't hit her again," he spat, eyes ablaze. "Don't you dare touch her!"
Marik smirked. "Like you care about her, Malik? She's nothing. What? Jealous I got her first? You can have her back, but I really would like to finish what I started."
Malik glared at Marik. "I care nothing for her, but look! She's barely breathing! Was it really necessary to beat her like this?! Not even the lowliest deserve this treatment. Act properly, Marik. Act like the noble man you were born as. You lower yourself with these filthy actions! It's a disgrace."
"She is the one who should've acted properly. If she had submitted to me, like a good little slave, then I wouldn't have had to slap her around so much," Marik replied.
"She was under no obligation to obey you! She knew she was my attendant; she doesn't have to take orders from you. She knows who she answers to as master, bearing in mind she once owned slaves herself!" Malik screamed, shaking his fist.
"Fuck you, Malik." Marik laughed. "I am going to screw her, and there's nothing you can do about it, is there? You're such a pussy. You would never rise against your older brother, would you? You would've already hit me."
Marik kicked his brother hard in the stomach. Malik rolled away. Satisfied, Marik went back to the woman, eager to finish. She was gone. Puzzled, he turned around, and saw her crawling toward the bed, trying to get to the headboard to cut her ropes free.
"No, sweetie," he laughed, striding towards her. "We didn't even start yet." He grabbed her hair casually, and yanked her back. "I really don't want to rip that hair of yours out, you know. It's so sexy. Things might be easier if you just stay put." The girl howled, and Marik slammed her against the wall to make her stop. Her eyelids fluttered, and she fell, unconscious.
Malik, apparently recovered, jumped up and punched Marik, hard. "You may have killed her!" he yelled. "If she's dead, you'll be tried for murder, Marik!"
Marik struck back, enraged. He ran at Malik and pulled a dagger from his waist linens, and led it to Malik's throat. "You have interfered with me enough, brother! Leave now, or I will kill you!"
"Marik, I am trying to help you! I don't want my brother in jail and my family dishonored!"
"Always about the family, isn't it?" Marik remarked darkly. "Yes. You're father's favorite, anyway. If you weren't my flesh and blood, I would've done away with you long ago. Let's face it, Malik. There is no brotherly love between us, only a rivalry!"
"Marik," Malik sputtered, "I have been trying to help you, but you keep doing these horrible things!"
"Shut up," Marik screamed. "I…"
"Enough!" Lord Ishtar rumbled. "This will cease now!"
Marik jumped at the sound of his father's voice.
"I ordered the guard to open the door, thinking that Malik would get back that damn woman and leave. But then, I heard you two shouting at each other like children. I am disappointed in both of you. Especially you, Marik!" Lord Ishtar turned his cold eyes to his eldest son. "What are you thinking, my son?! For all his rash actions today, Malik is right. You are heading down a dangerous and disgraceful path! These girls are not here for you to…" Lord Ishtar trailed off, as he stepped deeper into the chamber. His eyes, so like Marik's, surveyed the scene, and then widened in surprise. The surprise faded into anger.
"What are you doing?!" Lord Ishtar hissed. "Marik, these women are in so much pain! Malik's girl is near death, and the other is bleeding. You know that slaves have no rights. However, need I remind you that injuring or killing a slave needlessly is grounds for legal action?! Especially one that is privately owned! In this case, Malik can easily fight you in court for damage done to his property; the girl, as Malik's attendant, has whatever rights Malik decides. If your brother wished it, you would be in jail right now! Not only that, Marik, but this behavior is inhumane and appalling! No human deserves the kind of beating you dealt these girls! I expect more of any son of mine. The Pharaoh would not be pleased if word of this reached him. He preaches about human rights and respect all the time, and is especially adamant about banning the practice of bed warming girls. Think about our family; we would fall into poor favor with the Pharaoh should he ever discover this! Think about the implications of your actions, fool!"
Marik said nothing. He bowed stiffly to Lord Ishtar. "Father, I humbly apologize. But, in my defense, I thought Malik was done with her. She was just walking around, unwatched."
"Is this true?" Lord Ishtar asked, turning to Malik. Malik gritted his teeth.
"She escaped, Father. She ran to Marik's room, probably in search of her friend."
"Well, Malik, you should've made sure she was unable to get away from you. As for you, Marik, that doesn't excuse your actions; they are still quite loathsome. Malik, what would you like to do? If you
want to take your brother to court, I have no issue with it. I will make sure the Pharaoh knows who is responsible for this. Marik must be punished."
"Father," Malik replied, "I have no wish to create such an embarrassing situation for the family. If Marik apologizes, returns my woman, and leaves the other girl alone, all will be forgiven." Malik cocked his head, and grinned at Marik smugly, waiting for a reply.
"I am deeply sorry," Marik replied shortly, clearly insincere.
"Fine then, brother." Malik said curtly. He walked over to where the slave he had chosen was slumped, propped up by the wall. Gently, he picked her up, and carried her from the room.
Lord Ishtar motioned to the centurion, who stood, watching the scene numbly. "Clean this up, and take the other girl to her living quarters."
"Yes, sir!" the soldier replied. Carefully, he unbound the girl with the auburn hair, and took her away.
Without another word, Lord Ishtar turned on his heel to leave.
"Father," Marik began, "I…"
"Not another word!" Lord Ishtar commanded sternly. "Until your actions prove otherwise, don't even address me as father. You are no son of mine. And, as my own personal punishment, you will not be coming to court next week. I will bring Malik only. You forfeited that right with your behavior."
"But I had a hand in the annihilation of that village!" Marik protested.
"That may be, Marik. But as of now, you are only a mere soldier; you act like a brute, not one of noble breeding. You are the oldest! I expect you to lead Malik, but sadly, Malik is the one who leads you. Remember that. It is disgraceful that you rank lower than your younger brother. You are second to him, Marik. You have failed me. You will come to my chambers tonight and receive another restriction for your impudence." With one final hard glance at Marik, Lord Ishtar made his exit.
I hate my brother! Marik thought, enraged. Not only did he ruin my leisure time, but he also humiliated me! The entire household will know of this by tomorrow, and surely this information will reach court. Father favors him over me. I will change that! I need to have my revenge against my brother, and his little bitch, too.
Marik paused, reflecting on the dark haired slave, with her iron will. She fucked it up for me! Both of those women are the only ones to have ever escaped me! No, he reconsidered, the innocent one would never have gotten away, had that brat not attacked me. It is her fault. I will take her, somehow. I must wait for an opportunity to arise. Then I can get revenge on my brother! I will pay them both back in spades!
Marik picked up his wine class, lying on the bedside table, and threw it at the wall. The wine splashed against the wall, dripping scarlet. Just wait, he seethed, panting angrily. I will get what I want, and I will make my brother suffer!