Disclaimer – I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Shakespeare

*Rated T for Teen

All's Well That Ends Well

Act II, Scene I – Paris – The King's Palace

The King/Yami, Bertram/Seto, Parolles/Duke, and various other lords appeared onstage, their characters preparing to leave for the Florentine Wars.

"I wish you all a safe journey, young lords. I do hope you will advise each other wisely and that all of you benefit greatly from it," said the King/Yami wearily. He wore majestic purple robes that favored his favorite card, the Dark Magician. His matching pants and top hugged his body snuggly. Yami looked every bit a real king.

"We certainly hope so. And when we return, we also hope to see you in good health, my King," replied the First Lord.

"I do not think so. I welcome my death. I grow weary from this endless pain," he replied, seating himself in a large throne near the back center of the stage. "But, farewell, young lords. Whether I live or die, I wish you well. I hope that you will fight valiantly for France. Let all see that you do not go there to seek honor, but to claim it. May you be granted much fame. Farewell," stated the King/Yami.

"We will serve you well, my King," announced the Second Lord.

"Oh! And beware of those Florentine girls. Those women can be quite…well, you understand, I'm sure," said the King/Yami meekly.

"We understand," the lords laughed in unison.

"Well, goodbye, good lords," said the King/Yami, rising from his seat. He exited the stage, a few other lords at his heels.

The First Lord twirled around Bertram/Seto, saying, "Oh, my sweet lord, you will join us, won't you?"

"It's not our sweet lord's fault he doesn't go," announced Parolles/Duke, wearing very tight-fitting emerald green pants and a matching tunic. A bright red scarf, symbolic of Parolles' character, hung from his neck.

"But these wars are most honorable," urged the Second Lord.

"They are, indeed," agreed Parolles/Duke. The three of them fawned over Bertram/Seto erotically.

"I have been ordered to stay here," Bertram/Seto snapped. He also wore tight fitting pants, but they were white. His tunic, which was also white, was low cut and revealed a portion of his well-toned chest. There were blue dragons embroidered along his outfit, accentuating his azure eyes. "They say I'm too young and that I should go to war next year, that it's too early for me to go," he continued in a rage.

Parolles/Duke walked up to Bertram/Seto seductively and trailed a hand up his exposed chest. "I think you should come with me. Run away with me to war."

Bertram/Seto smacked his hand away. Parolles/Duke appeared hurt. "No," Bertram/Seto growled. "I will stay here until I have my sword. Then, and only then, will I run away to war."

Parolles/Duke smiled at him warmly.

"There is honor in stealing it instead," said the First Lord.

"I agree with him, dear Bertram," replied Parolles/Duke.

"I will be at your command, if you wish it as well. Goodbye, sweet lord," said the Second Lord, making ready to leave.

Bertram/Seto nodded at them.

"Farwell, sweet lord," the First Lord replied.

"You, too, sweet Parolles," responded the Second Lord.

"Before you go," Parolles/Duke began, "I would like to let you know that I will always be on your side. If you go to the regiment of the Spinii, you will meet Captain Spurio. Meet him, greet him, and say to him, 'I live.' Observe his reports for me, will you?"

"As you wish, sweet Parolles," answered the First Lord. The two lords then exited the stage, leaving Parolles/Duke and Bertam/Seto all alone.

Bertram/Seto moved to the center of the stage as he watched Parolles/Duke dance around him slowly and seductively. Parolles/Duke placed his feet about ten inches apart, pointing his toes straight forward, his knees relaxed. He placed a hand on Bertram's/Seto's shoulder and made one good pelvic thrust forward as far as possible toward Bertram/Seto. Parolles/Duke relaxed slightly and stepped away from him, smiling sweetly.

He continued thrusting, appearing much like a belly dancer, until he suddenly stopped behind Bertram/Seto. Placing his arms around Bertram/Seto and holding him in a loving embrace, Parolles/Duke looked on him adoringly. Bertram/Seto rolled his eyes and tried to shrug him off.

Succeeding, Bertram/Seto found Parolles/Duke on his knees before him, clutching his legs desperately.

"The God Mars adores you. What will you do, my dear, sweet lord?" asked Parolles/Duke.

"Get up!" Bertram/Seto barked. "The King is returning."

Parolles/Duke bolted to his feet and stood awfully close to Bertram/Seto. Uncomfortably so.

As the King/Yami entered the stage, Parolles/Duke turned to Bertram/Seto. Clutching him tightly, he said, "Come with me. Let us depart and go after those two lords. It may be a good idea for us to…get in with the other soldiers." He winked suggestively at him as he rubbed himself against Bertram/Seto.

Pushing him away, Bertram/Seto replied nonchalantly, "I will go, but not to ingratiate myself with the likes of you or any of those lowly soldiers."

Parolles/Duke smirked as he watched Bertram/Seto leave the stage. "Worthy fellows," he whispered. "They definitely prove to be the strongest swordsmen." He followed Bertram/Seto off the stage.

Next, Lafeu/Marik entered the stage and knelt before the King/Yami. He was not too pleased with his outfit. Of all the colors in the world, why the hell did his outfit have to be pink? He looked like a fucking piece of chewing gum with hair. Well, at least he got to carry a cane. He was playing an old lord after all.

"Excuse me, my King, but I have some information that may be of interest to you," Lafeu/Marik snarled. He didn't like kneeling before his self-proclaimed enemy.

"Just…get up," the King/Yami groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt an oncoming headache. A real one. This was going to be a long scene.

Lafeu/Marik got up from his kneeling position and glared at the King/Yami. "Are you still ill, my King?" he asked maliciously.

"Yes," the King/Yami started. He really didn't like the crazed look the demented man had in his eyes.

Lafeu/Marik clicked his tongue in mocking disapproval. "Oh! You poor King. Have you not taken anything for your poor illness?" he asked scornfully. "Well, then. Perhaps you'll take a cure from me. You can trust me. There is someone who can cure you of your malady and she will willingly do so."

The King/Yami looked confused. "She?"

"Yes! She, you imbecile," Lafeu/Marik exclaimed, smacking the King/Yami in the back of the head with his cane.

"Ow! That's not in the script!" hissed Yami.

"It is now!" laughed Marik. But before Yami could make a clever response, Marik jumped back into his lines. "My King, she is the daughter of a well known physician and she has come here to help you." The gods only know why, he thought. "She amazes me, though. I did not know that one so young, let alone a woman, could be as skilled as she is. She demands that you see her immediately. Will you let her come?"

"Fine. Bring her to me," the King/Yami said reluctantly.

"Great! I shall fetch her then," Lafeu/Marik replied giddily, leaving to fetch Helena/Joey.

Lafeu/Marik re-entered the stage with Helena/Joey in tow. The audience gasped at Joey's appearance. He wore a long black wig that went past his shoulders. The snug dress he had on hugged the slight curves in his figure; it was a tad low cut in the front, showing just a bit of his chest. The dress barely reached his knees and the three inch heels he walked in showed his delightfully toned legs. But his dress was what astounded people most. It was the darkest black anyone could imagine, with red dragon imprints on it that seemed to glisten in the stage lights.

"Here she is," announced Lafeu/Marik.

"So I see," the King/Yami replied skeptically.

Lafeu/Marik rolled his eyes. "This is the King. Speak your mind to him and be blunt about it, for he cannot comprehend anything beyond that," he said, grinning maliciously. "Although, you do look like a traitor, but don't worry. The King doesn't fear traitors. I'll leave you two together then. See ya!" Lafeu/Marik said before skipping off the stage, twirling his cane.

The King/Yami looked Helena/Joey up and down suspiciously. "So, my beautiful one, are you truly as gifted as Lafeu says?"

"Yes, my lord. Gerard de Narbon, the famous physician, was my father. I know his practice well," Helena/Joey replied seriously.

"I knew him," said the King/Yami, sitting in his throne.

"Then it looks like I do not have to brag about his reputation. Since you knew him well enough, you knew of his capabilities. On his deathbed, he left me many of his cures for serious ailments. One in particular he made me store for an instance such as this. After I heard of your illness, and that nothing you had taken would cure it, I sought you out so that I could give you his cure."

"I thank you, dear maiden, for coming all this way. But I highly doubt that you can succeed in curing me, especially when my own doctors, who are far more experienced than you, weren't able to do so."

"Please let me try," Helena/Joey begged.

The King/Yami sighed. "I thank you with all my heart for wanting to help me, but I must say no."

"Why do you insist on rebelling against the cure for your illness? All I can do is try. There is no harm in that," argued Helena/Joey.

He sighed again. "Farewell, kind maiden," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Wait! My cure for you will work! You are not past being treated for your illness, my King!" Helena/Joey pleaded.

"Are you really that confident in your abilities?"

"Yes. I am," Helena/Joey replied solemnly.

"You appear quite confident and sure of your skills, so how far will you go?" the King/Yami questioned seriously.

"I will go as far as to have you end my life, right here and now, if my cure does not work."

The King/Yami looked contemplative. "Fine. I accept your offer. If your cure does not work, you will be put to death."

Helena/Joey nodded in agreement. "And if it does work, what will you give me in return?"

"Make your demand."

"But will you make it an equal wager?"

"On my honor, yes," he replied honestly.

"If I succeed within twenty-four hours, I must be allowed to choose a husband from among the noble bachelors of the court as payment for my services," Helena/Joey declared.

"So it is agreed. If your cure fails, you will be put to death. If your cure succeeds, you may choose any of the noble bachelors of the court as a husband. You have my solemn word."

Helena/Joey made a slight curtsy before leaving the stage; the King/Yami rose from his throne and followed suit.

End Scene