Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any characters from the anime.
Chapter One - Debt Paid
Mahado stifled a yawn into the palm of his hand before he began slowly massaging his temples to relieve himself of the dull throbbing collecting behind his eyes.
He's late. Mahado thought grimly.
It was a little after midnight, but the tavern was still very much alive with activity. For the sixth time in two minutes, Mahado scanned the crowd of riotous drunkards and angry gamblers thoroughly only to feel the pang of disappointment that he didn't see him, and he had promised he'd show.
I should've known better than to trust a pirate.
Mahado would never step foot inside this seedy, backwater den of iniquity on his own, but this was where they'd agreed to meet. What better place is there to hide a criminal than in the presence of other criminals?
There was a sudden collective stillness that settled over the tavern, and Mahado glanced up, his deep, oceanic eyes meeting cerulean, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. The towering brunet gestured imperiously for him to follow as he made his way toward a closed door in the back of the tavern, and although it stung his pride, Mahado rose to obey.
The room he was led to was small; the only things occupying it were two chairs, a short, rectangular table, and the two men. The pirate sat down in one of the chairs, keeping his back toward the wall and everything else in his sights. He tilted his chair back and propped his booted feet up on the table, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair and threading his long, tapered fingers together.
"You know that I don't like to be disturbed while I'm out at sea, Mahado." The brunet drawled in a deep, baritone voice, his words lilting ever-so-slightly with the slightest hint of a Spanish accent, "So I'd suggest you make this quick."
The pirate was a dangerous, powerful man. He was notorious for his merciless brutality. He was known to be able to slit a person's throat while standing directly before them, so swiftly that they hadn't even seen him move before it was already too late. Whether it was raiding English cities or capsizing enemy ships, Seto Leandro never did anything halfway.
And that was the kind of ruthless determination that Mahado needed.
Even though he was nervous about being alone with this man, Mahado straightened to his full height, squared his shoulders, and took a breath for courage before he said, "I'm calling in my favor."
Seto quirked an eyebrow at this before he nodded, gesturing for me to continue.
"My cousin was taken prisoner two weeks ago by Prince Louis to become his sex puppet. I need you to get him away from the prince, and if possible completely away from the country. Yamir will never be safe if he stays in Spain. He's a good kid and he doesn't deserve what fate has dealt to him." Mahado explained, keeping the desperation from creeping into his voice.
Seto considered this a moment, and reiterated, "So, you're telling me that you want me to break into the palace of the King of Spain to rescue your cousin? You then want me to take said cousin out of the country if possible? Did I get this correct?"
"Yes" I replied shortly, clenching my fists at my sides, "When the royal guards were moments away from arresting you, I created enough of a diversion for you to escape. I saved your life, Seto, and now you owe me. This is my price."
"You're asking me to literally drop myself into the King Phillip's lap. I might as well hang a sign around my neck that spells, "Noose goes here"." Seto replied harshly, and then huffed out an irritated breath, "You are asking a lot from me Mahado, but a debt is still a debt. I'll go get your cousin."
"Thank you, Seto."
"I suppose I should leave now."
"Of course."
"Then, as of now, my debt is paid in full." And then the pirate was gone
Did the indignities ever cease?
Atemu Santiago paced the short distance provided within his small bedchamber, the events of the past few weeks raging in his mind. He was still livid that he was forcefully dragged away from his family, but now Atemu was furious at the fact that he had to listen to the prince's insufferable, lecherous ravings on all the ways he was going to take him.
I'd like to see you try. Give me a reason to rip your fucking throat out, you bastard.
Atemu slowed to a halt, standing in the middle of the room as his ears twitched slightly at the light scraping coming from the other side of the door.
Baring his teeth in a silent snarl, Atemu tore off the flimsy, silk shirt that he had been made to wear that day and tossed it to the ground; he couldn't have the material constricting his motions. Atemu crouched beside the bed and dug one hand beneath the mattress and pulled out a short, but lethally honed, dirk. He gripped the knife with a practiced familiarity, the blade lying parallel to his forearm, and waited for the right moment to strike.
When Mahado asked Seto to do this, there were a few scenarios that he imagined encountering. The first was finding some young boy, about fifteen years old, curled up in a broken, hysterical mess on a bed. He'd thought of some older teenager who twitched at every new movement and every little noise that he heard. He even thought that Mahado's cousin was some sort of pretty boy with painted toes and fluttering eyelashes.
But this never crossed his mind.
Seto had gotten inside the palace with unexpected simplicity. He had snuck up behind a perimeter guard, knocking him unconscious, and stole his uniform. While in the disguise of a guard, Seto did his rounds of the area, memorizing every possible exit from the castle, and snuck through a small window that led into a powder room. Luckily it was empty, but then again at three o'clock in the morning Seto hardly expected some noble lady powdering her nose.
He crept through the corridors of the palace, following the sound of the night guard's voices as the chatted about inconsequential things. They had unknowingly led the pirate straight to his target, and he easily overtook the haggard men to gain access to the boy's chamber.
The door had been barred from the outside, but Seto easily picked the lock and cracked the door open just far enough to slip inside.
He had just closed the door behind him when something fast and solid slammed into him, sending him careening to the floor. Suddenly someone straddled his waist, one arm effectively pinning the pirate's arms against his body while the other held a knife to his throat.
Seto opened his eyes to find a pair of gloriously furious crimson eyes burning into his own azure eyes with a ferocity that made Seto pause in awe.
Mahado's cousin was a bloody powder keg, to say the least, and he was a stunning creature. Shorter than Seto's own six feet four inches, but still at least six feet tall, the boy was lean and lithe, like some ferocious jungle cat. He had medium olive skin that showed dark gray in the moonlight, broad shoulders, trim torso, narrow waist, and generously toned arms. He was named from the waist up, revealing well-defined pectorals and washboard abdomen.
"Who are you?" The boy growled in a deep baritone voice, even deeper than Seto's, a thick Spanish accent punctuating the severity of his rage. "Why are you here?"
Seto shook himself out of his stupor but didn't respond fast enough for the boy's liking.
"Tell me who you are, or my hand might slip." He pressed the blade harder against Seto's throat, and he could feel a trickle of blood running from the wound.
"Your cousin sent me." Seto answered gruffly.
The boy's reaction was instantaneous. One moment he looked ready to take Seto's head off, and the next his rage-filled expression dropped into that of exhaustion and relief, "Mahado did?"
He got off of Seto and took a couple of steps away from him, but he kept the dirk raised threateningly. The boy wasn't a fool to trust the word of a stranger fully. Good.
"Yes." Seto replied as he pushed himself to his feet, groaning at the newly forming bump on the back of his head.
"Finally." The boy breathed, and then, in the blink of an eye, he sliced his palm open, deep enough that Seto swore that he could see the bones of the boy's hands, and blood pooled rapidly.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Seto hissed, and the boy ignored the question as he moved toward the bed and allowed the blood to drip onto the mattress.
Seto watched in a mixture of confusion and interest as the boy smeared his blood all over the sheets and onto a white, silk shirt that had been discarded onto the floor. He shrugged it on and then clenched his wounded hand into a fist to stem the bleeding.
The boy peeked out into the hall and noticed that the guards were coming to, and he smirked knowingly.
"I assume that you know the closest way out of here?" He questioned as he crossed the room toward Seto and slipped the bloodied knife into his hand.
"Yes." Seto replied.
And then, the boy whirled, snatching up a vase from on top of a dresser and hurled it through the window. The resounding shatter was loud enough to carry out into the corridor from the slightly ajar door. Then he fell into Seto's arms, pressing his hand against his stomach. The blood began to run freely again, and by the way he was holding onto the imaginary wound in his gut, if Seto hadn't seen the boy cut open his hand he would've thought that somebody had ripped open his abdomen.
The door burst open, and Seto realized the position the boy had put him in; bloody knife, bleeding teenaged boy, blood everywhere on the bed, and a broken window. Seto took the hint. Picking the boy up, he rushed for the window. Seto could hear the guards shouting for him to halt, but he ignored them as he leapt out the window with the boy still clutched in his arms.
They were about two stories high, and even though he landed correctly, a jolt of pain still shuddered through Seto's ankles and calves upon landing. Seto continued to run across the well-manicured lawn, toward the closest exit out of the upper bailey. The kid had given him a head start by making Seto jump out the window, and before the guards could even gather their forces, he was long gone with their precious prince's supposedly dying boy toy.
Outside the lower bailey of the castle were the royal guards' horse corrals. Seto veered toward them, and they "borrowed" two of the guards' horses as they rode out of the city and headed straight for the harbor.
Seto's magnificent vessel, the Tide Whisperer, a massive, three-mast galleon, made entirely from maple wood, home of the White Dragon pirates, was anchored just outside the harbor waiting for her captain to return. They left the horses and took a life boot out to the ship.
Seto wondered why the kid wasn't asking him any questions, or why he followed him without him needing to tell the kid to.
Seto smirked as he glanced at the boy climbing the ladder up onto the ship.
This might not be as bad as Seto originally thought, having the kid around.