AN: Yes the first scene is fanservice, I will admit. Although inspired by my beta who asked if he could be naked in this chapter. So I realised he could. Just think about it for a moment: Yami, elf worrier prince Yami, in a bath, naked, hair around his shoulders, naked, one of the few men that can make scarred sexy, naked, brooding darkly, dripping wet, and, oh, did I forget to mention naked?

Firefly In Ice

Chapter 10

"I can't believe… Yuugi wouldn't…"

"And how do you know he wouldn't, Atemu?"

"Because believe it or not, Seth, I haven't been in a three month long relationship with a stranger. I know he wouldn't do any of those things."

"Didn't you listen to a word of what I just said? Yuugi is a demon. A fire demon! They aren't exactly known for their compassion!"

"And what do you know about fire demons Seth, other than what the children's stories tell us?"

"I know a damn sight more than you!"

"How? I know one intimately, you haven't met one in your life!"

"But unlike you, I read the accounts of our people, I listen to the stories told by travellers and scholars alike. And they don't land in Yuugi's favour. Whatever he has you believing is clearly an act."

"Silence!"

"It's all a lie. Everything he's told you is a lie!"

The water was comforting on his nerves. It pooled around his irritated skin and lapped at his slowly healing wounds, as a mother wolf would care for her cub, it cooled the burn that screeched pain at him whenever he tried to move his hand and warmed the stiff chill that had settled over his exhausted muscles.

Yami closed his eyes, letting go of a lungful of air with a deep sigh. These times of the day were easiest, it was not the escape from his problems that riding gave him, but it was quiet contemplation, calming and easy, without any interruptions and without any outside annoyances. The evening, where everything wound down and began to settle in. Yami turned his head on the folded towel it was resting on to look out of the cavernous arched widows of the royal bathhouse, the building was situated high up in the palace, set into the rock of the mountain the city rested in the shadow of, and the palace rested against, looming over them with its snow smoothened edges so half the city was always cast under gentle shadow. The bathhouse was one of the highest places you could get within the city, connected directly to the mountain's spring, and offered views capable of taking away the breath of even someone who had seen it everyday.

Currently the sky was inked with a spectrum of deep colours, almost black in the east, still a sapphire blue in the west. Stars were beginning to unveil themselves in the oncoming night, bright constellations Yami could spend many a lazy hour here finding and drawing out with a finger.

Sometimes, he really wanted to kill his Father. The foolish man had broken the last straw with his latest action. Appointing a new grand advisor without even informing him of the plans to do so, he was the crowned prince, the heir to this kingdoms throne, one day it would all be his and his alone, but until then his Father was supposed to treat him with more respect. He was supposed to involve his son, supposed to add to his education, encourage and engage him in court matters and royal proceedings, instead Yami often felt he was only there because he was, unfortunately, a necessary fixture of such proceedings.

Instead, Yami was forced into private classrooms, confined to his room, forced to train as one of the Elite and apprentice under the greatest magic users in the kingdom, and for what? To command the eighth regiment? That was hardly worth all the work he had poured into his training.

It was because of this that Yami had become a worrier before he had become a prince. True he was born one, he was raised as one, but he was not treated as one by his family. The rest of the kingdom bowed at his feet: his Father believed he could still be pacified with a group of toy soldiers.

And Pegasus. A stranger elf he had never met. All politeness and smiles, offhand statements no one else seemed to notice or think of as odd and with a way of moving that made Yami think of some kind of lizard. Lazy and controlled, yet too quick on the draw to be considered the wizened elder everyone assumed him to be. White or silver hair only came to an elf in their late twilight years, but Pegasus neither acted nor felt like someone in their eight hundreds. He would have to keep an eye on him, Yami had a feeling about him that rung with distrust. The elf had an eye that spoke volumes more than what he said, a shadowed look whispered behind the iris that Yami suspected came from frequent magic abuse. A dangerous elf. And yet, according to his Father, a strong willed and trustworthy person that had come to them in their hour of need to his own expense.

If Pegasus was that good, Yami thought to himself with a scowl, then why hadn't they heard of him before?

He lifted his knee to straighten the leg and relieve the slight pressure the wound in his side was causing, feeling the water flowing around his bare skin and the smoothed grey rock he was using as a perch to relax in this small lake sized bath of fresh mountain spring water. Yami winced when the pressure lifted only after an extra painful stabbing sensation. Damned goblins and their poison tipped swords, making it impossible for elfin healing magic to keep a firm hold on the wound. It was only half healed, the poison the goblin's specialised in made it so inflictions could only be closed naturally (the idea being that you would be dead before then), and six of their best healers forcing all their power into the area had allowed it to heal the halfway. The burn had also been treated, but again the cause of it had been an unnatural flame from an unknown source, without knowing what magic had caused it meant not knowing how to heal it.

Damned goblins. Dammed mysterious flaming beasts.

Yami closed his eyes, trying to find the relaxed state he was in before. A glint of the colour amethyst glinted in his eyes as the lids closed.

Yami jolted up again, wildly searching for the cause of the colour, but his gaze landed on a small section of stained glass in the rose shaped window above him, the setting sun catching it in such a way that it glimmered brighter than the rest.

Yami groaned at his own skittish stupidity, he needed to get some sleep!

God dammed dead human and his pretty way of looking up at Yami when asking for help.

Determined to be permanently rid of the images keeping him awake Yami took a deep, angered breath, and submerged himself entirely into the water, running the fingers of his un-burnt hand through his thick hair with vigorous scrubbing. Emerging only when he was about to run out of air and he was soaked completely, his hair now dripping wet and down upon his bare shoulders and back.

Clearing his mind in the way he was taught when he was first learning to control his magic, Yami settled back into the stone perch, submerged to his shoulders in water, and leaned his head back to doze on the folded towel.

And as the barriers of his mind weakened the more relaxed he became, the more he could almost feel the soft skin of the human's hand upon his own. The brighter his bejewelled eyes became in his minds eye, the clearer his sweet vulnerability was when in the face of danger.

The more vivid his chiming bell of a voice became. And words replayed themselves in his ears as his minds eye saw the scene of a few nights ago, "Help me, please."

The words were so real, so close and surely spoken in his ear that Yami started again with a sharp gasp. Viciously tearing himself from the image and remembered sound and feel of the boy, he hit the water with a shout of rage. Accidentally using his burnt hand and hissing when the impact caused agony to claw at his nerves.

In all the Realms what was wrong with him? Why was his mind becoming so fixated on a silly little human boy, no matter how damned pretty he was? He was a freaking Prince! What did it matter to him if the boy was dead? What did his fate, and how he came to meet it, have to do with him?

Pulling himself out of the water, clear rivulets of liquid dripping from his skin and running down his body, where some of it caught painfully on the stab wound, Yami snatched up the bottle of scented powder used after a bath, and, in a desperate rage, threw it against the nearest wall. Watching the violet glass shatter and the white powder explode into the air, knowing it would do little good to make himself feel better.

"Get over it!" He hissed to himself, "A boy. He's just a human boy with no significance or meaning in life other than as fodder for the goblin's greed. He's dead and he's gone. He is not coming back!"

But, somehow, even his own words didn't feel right to him anymore.

The next morning found Yami sitting wide awake on the edge of his mattress, elbows leaning on his knees and staring blankly out underneath his bed tousled hair towards the wall opposite him.

There was now a pair of faint shadowed circles under each eye. Although his bed sheets had been disturbed, he had not slept, his mind refused to disengage from wakefulness. Beside him sat an open book, an old tome he had hoped would have been boring enough to cure this insomnia, but no such luck. The backs of his eyelids seemed to have been imprinted with the image of the human boy, the pain of his injuries making it hard for him to get comfortable, and nothing but thoughts of the war and flaming beasts dominated the forefront of his mind.

All he wanted was to sleep, mindless deep sleep, but such a simple thing he had done so many times before, seemed like the hardest request of him now.

With heavy muscles weighing him down with fatigue, Yami stood from his bed and set about finding clothes for the day, the maid should have set them out, but he hadn't let anyone into his private rooms recently. He had been experiencing some very strange dreams in the few snatches of sleep he had managed, and he did not want anyone discovering exactly what they where the focus of. They were unsettling enough in the way that he had never dreamt of anything quite so… primal before, the last thing he needed was another person spreading the words of the Prince's inability to control his desires.

Jounouchi was stood outside his door, on bodyguard duty as usual. And followed Yami without a word as soon as the Prince left the room. A silent shadow of a sentinel that was grating on Yami's nerves due purely to his lack of sleep. But it was no use trying to get rid of the bodyguard; Jounouchi had been given higher orders from the King that Yami was never to be left unattended in case of some kind of attack being launched upon the Prince's life. Yami was only annoyed by this, he was pretty sure he could take care of himself well enough to walk around his own home. He didn't need a babysitter.

Yami paused outside of the huge library double doors as they opened before he had time to pass. He was immediately set on edge by the emergence of Pegasus, his silver hair falling thickly over the right side of his face and hiding it from view.

Yami stood stock still, his arms folded over his chest as Pegasus saw him and let a sickeningly sweet smile cross his face.

He nodded to the Prince, "Good morning, Your Highness. Coming to search for a good read I see? I find nothing quite relaxes me as well as a good leather bound volume. There is something about its heavy solidity I find most reassuring. Good day, Sir."

And with that he was off down the corridor and gone before Yami could find any words to say in return. Again there was nothing noticeably wrong with what Pegasus had said, it appeared perfectly normal on the surface, even if he were a little eccentric. But there was always an underlying current of something that set Yami on edge, and for the life of him he couldn't pinpoint its source. Perhaps he was just being paranoid in his sleepless state.

The library was as cavernous and as well cared for as the last time he had visited it, though it did take Yami a moment to adjust to the sheer size of the room, it had been a while now since he'd bothered to come here. Even if it did take up probably the largest part of the palace.

Maybe here he would find a reason for his recent mental and emotional instability.

Yet halfway down the main corridor to the heart of the library, Yami suddenly noticed a distinct lack of Jounouchi walking behind him. Stopping dead, he turned and watched Jounouchi with a confused and annoyed scowl. The guard had stopped walking about half a very long corridor away, and was staring up at one of the many portraits that hung in alcoves and gaps in the endless expanses of books.

This one was a royal family portrait, identifiable by the gold and ruby frame.

Curious now, Yami walked back to where Jounouchi was stood and followed the line of his gaze.

And became instantly uninterested.

His recently late cousin, Seto, glowered down at them from his portrait. Yami could almost see the mocking sneer that was always just below the surface of Seto's skin. Taken down in battle not months ago by a well-aimed goblin arrow, tipped in poison, and straight to the heart.

Yami's first thought upon hearing about his cousin's demise was the thought that at least now Seto's physical self was as poisoned as the rest of him had always been. An arrogant bastard of an elf, sore over having the King's brother for a father and not the King himself, had always sought to out do Yami at every turn, as if becoming better than him would make him a next in line instead of Yami. Yami had never been able to stand him.

He glanced back at Jounouchi and felt his lip curl in disgust at the look the blond guard was giving the portrait. If Jounouchi was just going to stand here and lament the loss of his lover then Yami was not interested in being near him.

Yami turned impatiently and was about to continue his search for useful texts when something caught his eye. Within the alcove that Seto's portrait rested was a reading table, one of the many scattered around the room, and a small chair. It was the large book upon that table, left open to a page dedicated to a full colour illustration, which had him interested.

Approaching the table, Yami sat and pulled the book closer to himself, studying the hand drawn picture and running a finger lightly over the extraordinary artwork. He had never seen this before, but considering the sheer volume of books within the library, that came as no huge surprise to him.

The subject of the image was of a large slab of sandstone, intricately carved so that he could almost feel the curves of the mason's work, several hollow shapes were the centre of focus upon the stone, each one a different and curious shape. Stood upon the sandy stone floor at its base were a small number of scattered figures, not elfin, human, or even centaur, but something far older.

Yami leaned closer, scrutinising the shapes of the tiny figures, and muttered to himself, "Demons?"

How old was this book?

Keeping his page, Yami lifted the left side of the book to see the front cover. It was bound in dark green scaly leather, most likely imitation dragon hide, with mock gold clasps holding tight to its corners and an old gold latch to hold the two covers together when closed. Embossed upon its surface in old style elfish was the golden title 'Ancient Tales for The Searching Mind.'

Well that explained a few things. The book wasn't ancient, though still older than himself. That explained the image of an extinct race. There were many elfin historians that were fascinated over the demons and their mysterious disappearance. It was the main, serious, unanswerable mystery still alive today. This book had to be no more than speculation, but it was unlikely it contained anything of true value to him.

Yami turned a page over from the illustration lazily, not expecting to find a long silver hair trapped within the spine there. Frowning at it Yami glanced at the text on the page, nothing of any great interest leapt out at him, but just to be sure…

Yami held his hand hovering just over the page and the hair, narrowing his eyes and invoking his tracer magic. A misty, familiar aura met his senses and his frown deepened, "Pegasus?"

It could be no one else. But what interest would a Grand Advisor have in ancient almost mythology? What use would stories and speculation be?

Yami decided that he would keep the book and look through it more thoroughly, to see if he could find out exactly that.

Yami could only have wished that his afternoon were as easy as the morning. Unfortunately, as seemed to always be the case, it was not to be.

Word came to them swiftly of another goblin assault upon the city walls.

And just as swift was the transition from calmly turning pages in his study, to mounting a fully armoured horse with a sword at his side and a regiment behind him. Yami had ignored the advise to stay out of the battle, the words that his wounds would hamper him and cause him to become so much more vulnerable, he wasn't about to sit back and let everyone else take the glory.

The iron gates were lifted, Yami kicked the horse's side to spur it into a fast trot, behind him, two hundred and fifty soldiers did the same. Riding out was a simple and dangerous business that made the heart trip in fear and excitement and the blood run thick with adrenaline. He was not the first to ride today, his father (leading the first regiment) and the third regiment had already left through the north and west gates respectively. He was to leave out the east and circle round by the edge of the forest in the hopes of rounding the goblins up into a more solid mass that was easier to kill. The rest of the army would follow after.

Riding out into the bright sun, everything blanketed in crisp white that magnified light and reflected it a hundred fold from every surface and seemed to encompass silence within itself, Yami blinked to clear his vision of rogue snowflakes kicked up by the horses' hooves. Knowing that the battlements upon the city walls were thick with archers ready to defend the city, Yami spurred his horse from a trot into a gallop and felt the smooth leather reigns familiar under his fingers. This was his element; he knew it like it was a part of him. The snow around him, the horse beneath, and a world ahead.

They had to win this battle. If not… he didn't want to think about it.

He heard the iron gates falling shut behind him, the reinforced doors being forced into place and locked behind them. The city was secure; there was no way in or out now. The sound of a thousand hooves followed him as he reached the point where he was to turn and run along the edge of the woods, the trees were thinly spread here, it was the beginning of the forest, but he angled the horse to run parallel to them.

Now he could see the advancing goblins before them, a solid mass of black and distasteful smells. Chattering and screeching to each other in battle cries. The Grey Mountain rose in the distance; this was a part of the forest where he had found that aura.

It was then that the realisation hit him, only when he was charging out to battle, his body working off adrenaline and his mind's usual sharpness blunted by fatigue, did the events finally clink together in his mind.

The strange aura he had felt in the forest, the one that had mutilated those goblins and left their corpses to rot, was the same as the one the flaming beast had left behind! He wanted to hit himself for his stupidity, he wanted a moment to sit and brood over this new revelation in his study, but now he could not. There was a battle to win.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his Father already engaging combat with the brunt of the goblin army, so drawing his curved sword, pushing magic into the ancient elfish words emblazoned upon the blade's surface so they shimmered a haunting white-blue with power, he drew the first line of soldiers up to his level. And commanded the charge.

The goblins had braced for the attack, setting pikes in the ground to impale the horses on impact, and though Yami knew many horses would not make it past, he wondered how the goblins could still underestimate the horses the elves kept. Beasts of extraordinary intelligence and a little magic of their own running through their veins. It was impossible for any mortal horse to outrun or manoeuvre them. His horse simply braced herself, and leapt clear over the tall pikes as if it were as simple as pulling hey from the feeding box.

It took less time than expected; the goblins were spread more thinly here than around the front and Yami's sword had barely tasted blood by the time he and his soldiers had gained the upper hand. His swipes were aimed and true, the blade a stream of light through the air that burned the goblin's blood off of itself even as it pierced a heart or sliced through a limb. The goblins were shrinking back from the forest, his regiment hounding them away, hacking down the stragglers. A few elfin horses lay injured or dead, a small number of soldiers too, but the loss was still relatively small compared to what it could have been.

Amidst the chaos, Yami caught a glimpse of a small number of goblins that had escaped the rounding up and where still very close to the forest, sniffing around the bodies left behind. Killing the injured, turning over their bodies for whatever wealth they may hold on their person. Tugging on his mare's reins sharply, he turned her around, gave the command to the others to keep going, if these goblins were left alive there could be some serious trouble later from them.

Charging towards each individual in turn he finished each and headed for another. But fate was not with him this day, it seemed. One of the goblins had prepared itself for his attack, it had positioned an arrow within the short bow, pulled back the stiff string, and loosed it before Yami had chance to reach the goblin with his blade.

The black arrow shot through the air with so much speed it sent Yami's horse into a panic when it just caught the edge of her ear. Yami grunted in pain as it erupted from his shoulder, nearly knocked clean off his horse as the arrow embedded itself just below his collarbone. The blade fell from his hand, and the goblin fled for its life.

In panic the horse reared, and Yami, exhausted as he was, did not have time to brace himself and hold on. She stood almost vertically, braying loudly and beating the air with her front hooves, until the buckles that held the heavy armoured saddle to her back snapped under the heavy, twisting pressure and sent Yami falling clean off her back, saddle and all. Still panicked, the mare righted her self and cantered deep into the forest, leaving only a trail of kicked up snow behind her.

Yami clutched his shoulder where the arrow still clung, he grasped the thick wooden shaft as his blood pooled in the wound and seeped into his clothes, but had no strength to pull it out and eliminate the source of the spreading poison that was paralysing his arm. Perhaps it hadn't been so smart to enter battle already injured.

He gasped for breath and sharp pain from the back of his skull told him he really didn't have the softest landing, little black spots appearing in front of his eyes told him he was now in serious danger of losing consciousness. Groaning, Yami tried to focus and get up, but the wound would not let him and his body was so steeped in fatigue due the past few days that he was having serious difficulty finding any kind of will power at all.

He turned his head to the side when a faint rustle reached his ears, seeing the forest just before him. Oh, that was perfect, he was going to get eaten by some animal now just to add to the humiliation.

Just when the poison and blood loss finally took its full toll on him and caused his mind to give into a dead faint, he saw a blurred figure watching him, half hidden behind the forest vegetation. He was unreasonably soothed by the sight of those haunting amethyst eyes, the feeling of being found and suddenly safe let him drift off without a fight.

"You've never even met him. You wouldn't understand. He would never lie to me."

"Prove it."

"He loves me."

"That isn't love, little cousin, that's lust. Fire demons are passionate, as their element defines, but they do not love. He feels lust for you, you mistake it for love because you are blinded by your own infatuation."

"The rumours of fire demons and their clan are just that: rumours. All you are doing is regurgitating them to try and dissuade me from finding a way too him. Yuugi will be waiting for me, I know he will."

"And what if he isn't? You haven't been allowed out of the palace for a week now, you have found no way of contacting him, he must think you've left him and become bored of waiting, he will have left."

"Yuugi wouldn't. He isn't the monster you paint him to be."

"If he does love you so much Atemu, then why doesn't he try to contact you then? He has wings doesn't he? Why doesn't he fly in under the cover of night?"

"Because he isn't stupid! He understands what would happen to me if he were caught in my bedroom."

"He's lying to you."

"I would never give myself to someone like that. The Yuugi you describe is not the Yuugi that loves me, I will prove it. He would never… do any of those things you've described to me… never."

AN: Hope that was alright and that you are holding onto your hats for the next chapter. Lots of bonding for our favourate two.

Have an awesome new year everyone!

And don't forget to review!