I can now officially vouch for all those people who stay in bed all day with the flu. Seriously it's the worst thing ever! I've never had it before and now I can barely move! And still my mum threw me into work yesterday, absolutely no sympathy, I hope she catches it!

Firefly In Ice

Chapter One

"Hey, Ryou?… Earth to Ryou."

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember that time we first met 'Kura?"

"Don't let him hear you calling him that. And yes, how could I forget."

"Well I was… thinking."

"Now I am worried."

"Hey! No seriously. You remember that you two didn't exactly… get along at first."

"Yes."

"And now the two of you screw like rabbits on viagra."

"Very eloquently put I'm sure."

"Well you know that… thing we were talking about?"

"Where exactly are you going with this?"

"And… and you know that… that elf we met a few weeks ago?"

"Yuugi…?"

The first thing he was aware of was the noise. A strange rustling that seemed to encompass him and stretch throughout the world. Was that what the wind sounded like when it blew through… what was it? Trees? He remembered trees. They were green weren't they? And then he heard something that should have been loud but was too far in the distance to be important. This noise was sharp and unruly; it sent a flicker of something strange through his heart.

Then he became aware of something hard pressing against him, pushing up against his body, and of something holding him down. For a moment he panicked. The shadows never felt like this! Was this some kind of new trick they were using to torture him? Then he remembered. He had escaped hadn't he? He had escaped their clutches. Something strange and very unusual coursed through him at the memory: joy. Utterly ecstatic the prone figure redoubled his efforts to wake up properly. Was that gravity that was holding him down? Was that the feeling of his own weight pushing down against solid ground beneath him? It felt strange and good and natural.

He concentrated on what he felt beneath him. It was very cold but compared to the shadow's icy grip it was nothing short of warmth incarnate; it was very soft and compacted easily under the smallest of force. He breathed out slowly. The substance was covering him in a thin sheet and after what he had been living in for the past eternity it felt like heaven. Was this what it felt like to be content?

Focusing he tried to get his body to move. He hissed quietly to himself when pain was the only response he got. He hadn't been able to move in centuries and after that mad dash trough the cave it was as if his whole body had cramped up from the strain. Changing his direction of focus the male began to breathe deeply through his nose and almost yelped at the scents that hit him. The most prominent smell was of moisture; cold fresh and deeply invigorating it drove him to want more. There was the scent of vegetation too; it was faint but just as fresh. But there was another smell there that made his heart beat faster and his mind race with a thousand questions; this one was warm and tangy and it seemed to sing throughout his spirit and give him strength and purpose again. And he knew without a doubt that he had to find its source.

Fighting to stay awake his body seemed to react instinctively to the smell and for that he was grateful, it gave him the will power to open his eyes. Prying the lids apart the first thing that he registered was white. Endless amounts of white. He squinted as the sight hurt his sensitive vision, had he escaped from a world of utter darkness to be kept in a world of pure white? Blinking rapidly he fought down the tears that rose to his eyes at the pain they felt and after what felt like a long time they adjusted better. Moving his gaze to the side and upward he blinked again to clear the blurry fog of his vision and saw a hint of another colour. Green. Were those trees under all that white? He focused and saw numerous patches of green under the white; in fact these patches surrounded him. He was surrounded by trees. What was it they called large groups of trees? A forest? He was in a forest?

Unsure whether being in a forest was a good thing or not he looked back at the white stuff. He couldn't remember ever seeing anything like it before; it was pure and cold and soft. What an obscure combination. It seemed to cover almost every inch of surface so he assumed it was natural but there was something about it he was not at all comfortable with.

He sniffed again and that same enticing scent reached his nose, it seemed to have gotten stronger. It sent a thrum of energy through his paralytic body and urged him to move. Bracing himself the figure flexed his cramping muscles and moved his arms so that his elbows pointed up to the sky and pressed his palms against the ground, heaving his chest up off the white substance and, trembling violently with the effort, leant upwards until his back was straight and he was sat without support upon his knees.

He blinked slowly, moving his gaze around the clearing he found himself in. The white stuff had fallen off his back as he sat up and now made a small mound behind him. He could hear that sound off in the distance again; it was sporadic and violent. He turned his head and tilted it to the side listening and then with a frown he sniffed again; the sound and the smell were coming from the same place. Well at least now he had a direction to head in. Looking down at the ground again he tried to discern exactly were the trap door was so he could make a point to avoid it in the future. There was a slight dip in the white substance near to his side and next to that was another mound that must have been made when he pushed the door open. Reaching out the male brushed his claws through the dip and revealed wood; wincing slightly he quickly covered the door back up and moved his hand away.

Shifting his knees he braced his hands and feet on the floor and pushed off from the ground. His first attempt to stand failed due to his cramping leg muscles but on the second he managed to cling to a tree as he adjusted to the feeling of his own weight pushing him down. He was surprised by the smile that pulled his lips upwards at such a simple achievement. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. It felt good to smile.

Stumbling forwards he managed to grip the trunk of the next tree along and, moving gingerly, succeeded to progress this way for quite some time. Now and then he would stop to sniff the air or listen for the noise in order to pinpoint the direction he needed to head in, he found it amusing the way he could make his pointed ears move a little so he could hear better in a specific direction. His eyes still smarted from the amount of light in this world but he could tell by the way he looked up and saw the sky that this was not as bright as it could get. What was it they called this time of the suns cycle? Night? It was turning out that he might have to remain a night creature whilst he adjusted. The white substance beneath his feet was becoming troublesome; it was thick and stubborn. He was now buried almost up to his knees in it. What had seemed like such a blessing at first was fast becoming a serious irritant.

Suddenly though the substance began to thin, as if it had been shovelled away by thousands of little hands. He paused at the sight that met him. There were marks in the white stuff. Narrow imprints that held a faint resemblance to the prints he left behind. Footprints? There looked to be a single track leading off to his right, the prints looked disproportioned and broken, as if the creature that had left them had been stumbling and struggling as it walked. The footprints lead in the direction of the smell.

He followed them. Maybe he could find this creature and ask it to help him, maybe if it was in pain he could help it in return.

The male wondered with some apprehension exactly what type of creature he would meet. He could not remember ever conversing with another intelligent being even though he knew he must have done during the time before he was imprisoned. But that had been so long ago would they even understand what he was saying?

As if to interrupt his thoughts the figure suddenly found himself stood before a deep hollow in the white stuff, the footsteps ended here, the creature that made them was nowhere to be seen and the hollow seemed to be filled with a dark black, thick liquid. It smeared across the white substance, turned it dark, tainted it. Confused he lifted his nose to the sky and attempted to pinpoint the animals sent. Something spicy and metallic but cooling rapidly hit his senses and the figure almost reeled at the potency of it. He looked at the black liquid. This was what he was looking for? Had the creature left it for him?

Slowly, gingerly, he crouched down, hissing as his muscles protested painfully to the action. The heavy limbs protruding from his shoulder blades drooped down on each side of him and for a moment he simply stared at the thin dark skin stretched between the strong narrow bones. What were they called? He couldn't remember noticing them before. Wings? His wings? And they were used to fly weren't they? He hummed to himself; when he got his strength back he would have to try them out. Though he had no memories of flight he felt somewhere that flying was a good thing. He would enjoy it.

The smell of the liquid before him was enticing him, seducing him, it looked thoroughly unappetising but the smell was otherworldly! It moved his head forward until he was close enough to lick it off the white ground. Tentatively he flicked his tongue across it and gasped at the sensations that hit him. All the pain seemed to wash away to be replaced by a tingling pleasant feeling, he knew without having to look that his wounds were beginning to heal. He could feel the strength returning to his limbs as he licked more and more off the ground. What was the name of this liquid? Why did it heal him so? And where, when it was gone, would he find more?

Realising he had closed his eyes he opened them to see if there was anymore liquid left and almost cried out when he saw there was none. He had taken all of it, even the thin layer of white stuff under it, into his body. A sense of something strange came to him then, he didn't know why but it almost felt wrong, this savouring of the black liquid, he felt that he shouldn't have enjoyed it. But… why shouldn't he when it nourished and helped him so much, why shouldn't he drink it if it gave him that kind of pleasure?

Snorting he pushed the feeling away and stood again with a little less strain then before. The pain had come back, he hadn't been fully healed, and he was still weak. He needed to find more.

Continuing his journey towards what he could smell was a much larger source of the liquid he noticed the noise was becoming louder, what did it mean? He turned his head to look behind him when he finally noticed something that he had felt all along. There was another limb besides his arms and legs and wings connected to the base of his spine. It was dark, like the colour of his wings, thicker at the top and thinning steadily as it progressed to a fine tip. The tip was sharp and pointed; it looked as if there was an arrowhead attached to the end. It trailed through the white ground behind him like a snake; he could move and lift it from the ground even if it did feel like one of the heaviest parts of his body. Was this his tail? What was a tail for? He could feel the powerful muscles contained within it even through his weakness; maybe it was for defence or something along those lines, though he could not see why he would need to defend himself. One thing he did not understand, however, was the colour of the skin on his tail and wings. It was dark, almost black, upon those appendages but on the rest of his body his skin was white, as pure almost as the substance beneath him and he could not find any obvious reason as to why it would be that way.

But then he was distracted by a sudden noise. Snorting and grunting sounds were coming closer and closer towards him. He stood up straight to meet them; by the sound of their feet there were roughly five of them. Were these the creatures that had left the other footprints? Were these the animals that carried that liquid? He would have to be prepared to do a little persuading to get what he wanted.

But then they crashed through the vegetation only a foot or two before him and the male found that all he could do was stare. What were they? They had the same basic shape as him but they possessed neither wings nor tails, their skin was entirely black and their eyes were small and crude. They had covered their bodies in some kind of thick dirty materiel; it was covered in a dried and crusted mixture of both red and black liquid, as were the sharp blades they carried at their sides. The male sniffed and discovered these creatures were rife with the nourishment he wanted, but besides their clothes and swords were did they keep it? He looked at the one that seemed to be the leader and asked his question, but his voice came out as a horse unintelligible growl that sounded feral and vicious even in his own ears.

They did not answer him. They only looked at him in fear and horror. He hated that fear! He hated that they were scared! They shouldn't be scared, they should be brave and face him, they carried swords used for the specific purpose of causing pain and death so if a fight was what they wanted then they should come to him, not stand there in frozen hatred!

He hated that fear. He hated the fact that he liked it.

And despite himself the male felt a smile pull his lips upwards. He took a step towards the creatures and saw to his horrified satisfaction that they took several steps backwards, all except one who did not seem able to move. He took several more steps and found himself directly in front of the creature, he looked at its little black eyes and hated and loved what he saw there. A delicate sniff confirmed his superstitions. These animals carried within them that liquid that so healed and nourished him, that liquid he was going to need if he wanted to survive. With his mind in a strange haze he lifted a clawed hand high, poised to strike, took a moment to watch the creature's eyes change ever so subtly, and then, still smiling, he drove his claws down towards the creature's throat.

And beyond that was only a blur of red and black and white. Pleasure and need and noise and such a delicious smell. A smell that drove him mad until he felt himself crash through the undergrowth having finished with the original creatures, felt more creatures under his claws and teeth, more noise that drove his sanity far away from his mind until through that haze he felt harsh ropes around his body, pulling him down and finally forced upon him a darkness that was the oblivion of sleep.

"Take it to the dungeons, the solitary cell."

"Yuugi… please don't continue with this. You know we aren't supposed to…"

"You cannot tell me the only thing you feel for Bakura is lust Ryou! I am not that stupid!"

"Yet clearly there is something missing from between your ears if you do not realise the consequences of your actions!"

"Do not mock me! I know perfectly well what we are and aren't supposed to do. And I tell you let them come! They will have one hell of a fight on their hands!"

AN: I'm gonna go to sleep now and skive off college tomorrow, hopefully my parents will be at work all day and won't notice.

This chapter, admittedly, kind of ran away with me. It was originally going to be part of the prologue but I realised that it wouldn't fit very well if I did that. Anyway no updates next week 'coz I'll be in Slapdon (I think thats how you spell it) with the college Geography department having a great time studying the process of sand dune formation -sarcastic cheering-.

Thanks for reading, please review, it'll make me feel better. Like virtual medicine! Okay now I know I'm not well. Feel free to point out any typos, if they aren't supposed to be there I will do my best to fix them.

-weak grin- You people best be grateful, the computer screen is really hurting my head right now. This chapter is really more of a descriptive setting up of the story to come then anything else but really I couldn't have him jumping up after 1000-odd years of sensory deprivation and feeling perfectly in tune with the world could I?

Disclaimer: Nope!