Author's Notes:
Better late than never :D
In a Rut
Thin sheets of fabric barely block the rays of the morning sun. The Prince, having had a late night dealing with both the Demon King and the Angel King, throws an arm over his eyes. But, one can only block out the sun for so long before its penetrating rays truly wake someone up. Unfortunately for Ryou, that time is now.
Thins legs slip off the cot as the boy sits up. A hand half-heatedly rubs at tired eyes to wipe away any sleepiness. A soft yawn escapes the Prince's mouth as he haphazardly moves to his feet, almost tumbling over in the process. The boy doesn't bother stretching, knowing that the slightest movement might damage his already injured back.
Grabbing a change of clothes, the angel exits his tent, heading for the creek that he's been using to bathe since the castle burned down.
Heading to the creek, the boy can't help but notice the onset of spring. It had been a long cool season, and the boy wishes for the warmth of the shifting seasons to come already
The creek appears in the distance, surrounded by stones smoothed out from years of erosion. Small plants try to grow through the crevices between the rocks, begging to enjoy the sun.
"Hm, the Herculis beta is our sun today." The Prince mumbles to himself as he removes his top, making sure to take his time as he moved it by his wings. His pants slide off with ease and the angel allows himself to slide into the cool creek.
Three days. In three days, he and Bakura will launch an attack to bring the half'n'halfs down. In three days, peace will finally be achieved. But at what cost? No more Bakura?
Ryou dips his head under water, taking a moment to gather himself before opening his eyes and looking around. He takes another moment to take a deep breath and the boy slowly disappears into the creek, encapsulated by the rock lined walls as he sinks further and further underwater. Here, the boy is free to think, away from the prying eyes and curious ears of the Angel Camp.
His father's alive, which means he has a few years before he'll have to take over the throne. That's more time to learn, to better grasp magic and politics; he could even find a new mate in that time. And this time, he'll do it the way he's supposed to. He'll find a nice girl, hopefully a pretty pure one, and they can get married and have children who will take over the throne.
Of course Ryou would work for diplomatic, if not friendly relationships with the other species, namely the demons. Both he and Bakura would be able to leave the past in the past and become great friends and rulers.
His best friends would be at his side as advisors, helping him to keep peace. They too would move on from their demon lovers and find wives. It would be a storybook ending: the villains would be vanquished and they would get their vanilla happily ever after.
And maybe this is what he needed, time to rein it in and start acting like the pure angel he's supposed to be. Or at least the pure angel he was supposed to be.
~.~
For once in a long time, Bakura just relaxes with his friends, lounging comfortably in his tent.
"How's the reconstruction of the castle going, by the way?" Bakura asks, glancing at his friends.
Yami doesn't say anything, opting to pull at a loose string and watch as the careful work of whatever angel sewed the cushion unravels. Marik glares at his king, waiting for him to get to the actual meaning behind the impromptu meeting.
"It's going." Marik responds. "And how was your meeting last night?"
Bakura shrugs, not offering a response. "Why?"
"Just wondering what you and the Prince were talking about." Marik responds bluntly.
Bakura doesn't answer, opting to copy Yami in playing with a loose end of thread. Hmm...maybe he should inquire about the quality of these couches.
The flap flips open, and in stomps Iona. She glares at the lounging Yami, the annoyed Marik, and then at the bored Bakura. She huffs, trying to gain the attention of the lounging men, but she is ignored.
She stomps again for emphasis, this time gaining the attention of her King.
"You didn't come to bed last night." The girl points out.
"Nope, I didn't." Bakura comments flippantly.
"You also signed a peace treaty, without asking me." The woman continues shrilly.
"Yep." Bakura answers again, pointedly giving her a once over. "And?"
"And as your mate AND future queen, don't you think I should have a say in this kingdom's politics?"
Bakura snorts derisively, gaining the attention of the other inhabitants in the room.
"My queen? You will not be my queen. You are merely a whore who should be grateful to share my bed." Bakura roars, standing from his seat. "As for a mate, you are no mate of mine. Why would I tie myself to someone as weak and pathetic as you?"
Iona winces, her anger wilting under Bakura's demonic gaze. Only days ago had she been called his mate. "The same reason you would tie yourself to the angel. You think you're so tough, but you've linked yourself to the most pathetic creature of all. You think you can rule this kingdom, but I'm sure as hell you'll be crushed by the pressure." And with that parting statement, she leaves not giving Bakura the chance to continue screaming at her.
The tent lapses into silence when Bakura's wings unfurl and reach their full width. His nails elongate into claws, and a dark aura surrounds his form. The room drops about twenty degrees and Yami and Marik prepare to summon the shadows to calm their friend. But just as quickly as it appeared, the aura disappears from around Bakura, his claws retract, and his wings return back to their curled state.
"You good?" Marik questions, as Bakura rarely loses control like that.
"Yes, just annoyed." The Demon King mutters tiredly.
"It's a good thing she's gone." Yami comments, plopping back into his seat, unaffected by his friend's lapse of control.
"I hope she is." Bakura mumbles, running a hand through his hair.
"So, what were you and the Prince talking about?" Marik asks again.
"Not right now." Bakura dismisses. "I'll tell you tomorrow."
~.~
Today, his father had called him in to speak with him. They were going to discuss all he had done while his father had been unconscious.
As he walks on the dew covered grass, the boy can't help but worry. He and his father had never really seen eye to eye. His father had never accepted him or what he stood for.
Now, after his near death experience and seeing his son accept his responsibility, maybe he'd be a bit more sympathetic.
"Father?" Ryou questions tentatively.
Silence falls for a moment, before he hears his father call him in.
Ryou walks into the tent, and already he feels intimidated by his father's disapproving gaze in the presence of his father.
A carpet that was probably salvaged from the castle covers the floor. Its intricate patterns swirl around the floor in a series of muted colors. Atop the blanket is a crude chair, carved lazily out of wood. Unpolished and unfinished, little splinters stick out at random trajectories, threatening to stab into his father's flesh. But even that is better than sitting on the floor.
"Sit," the man motions to a patch of the rug, where Ryou sits obediently. "We have much to talk about."
"Yes," Ryou nods in agreement.
"Let us start simply, what happened to the castle?" The King asks, motioning around the tent.
"It burnt down." Ryou responds succinctly.
"How did you escape?"
Ryou frowns, remembering the horrid night. The way his sister looked dead, the way she accepted her fate the moment the fire sprouted up around her. "There was no fire around me." The boy answers meekly.
"Mmm?" The King cocks an eyebrow.
"It didn't surround Joey or Serenity either." Ryou responds. His father continues to give his a critical stare.
"So, your friends were saved?" The King slowly asks.
"Yes." Ryou's father is about to push the topic further, but is cut off, "The Demon Castle was also attacked that night."
"Mhmm," the King acknowledges.
"We went to war. Many lives were wasted." Ryou admits.
"Went? What's happening now?" The King prompts.
"We signed a treaty. Currently, we're taking a couple days to regroup with our advisors to determine our next course of action. We believe it was the Half'n'halfs that attacked the castles." Ryou explains, subconsciously rubbing his arm.
"I see, and what proof do you have?"
"It took a lot of thought. I mean, the attacks were too synchronized to be from separate entities. So, we kinda just went through our enemies, the demons enemies. And well, the Half'n'halfs were the only ones who had problems with both of our races ." Ryou responds cautiously. He waits for his father to scream, to tell him that he was being stupid and that there was not nearly enough information for him to reach that conclusion—that he was a terrible prince and an even worse ruler
But his father says nothing, nodding and scratching his chin in thought. "Good thinking." His father commends.
Flustered, the prince stammers out a "Thank you."
An awkward silence befalls the room as Ryou tries to process everything that has and hasn't happened thus far. Nothing is making sense in a time when he needs everything to make sense. The King, for his part, watches his son closely.
"Servant." The guard waiting inside the tent jumps to attention. Ryou internally winces at the harsh word, watching as the woman stands, and waiting for her next command. "Go fetch the Prince's friends." The woman walks out of the room, running to the tent where the teen's friends reside.
~.~
Bakura hated to admit it, but he was worried. He hadn't seen Iona since their fight last night, and with the knowledge of the Half'n'halfs possibly trying to take over, he was stricken with anxiety.
Marik could tell the King was uptight, just by the stricken look on his face. The King's eyes darted around the room, taking in anything and everything.
"Are you good?" The other demon asks.
Bakura ignores the man; instead, watching as the tent flap opens. The King pushes himself out of his seat, prepared to give Iona a piece of his mind. However, it is only Kaiba who walks through.
"My liege," Kaiba greets with a small bow.
"Have you spotted her?" Bakura questions.
Kaiba rolls his eyes at the King, sick of the silly relationship between the two. "No."
"This is not good," Bakura mumbles, absentmindedly pacing the room.
"And why isn't it?" Kaiba asks, watching his King. Had he finally come to the same conclusion as the rest of the group? Did he realize that it is the Half'n'halfs who are attacking?
Bakura has been Kaiba's friend for so long now; he knows all of his friend's sly tricks. He rounds on the man in anger, roaring "You know damn well why it isn't!"
Kaiba, like Bakura's other friends, was used to the King's outbursts and merely cocked an eyebrow.
"When did you find out?" Kaiba asks.
"Why didn't you advise me sooner?" Bakura retorts.
The advisor taps his chin in fake contemplation before letting out an acerbic reply, "Because you were too busy f*cking that mongrel."
Red rushed to the King's cheeks, his eyes shining crimson in anger. He opens his mouth, ready to respond with his own witty remark, only to realize he doesn't have one. He had slept with her, a halfbreed. He, the King of the Demon Realm, had slept with a being more pathetic than an angel, perhaps even more pathetic than a human. As realization after realization hits the Demon King, the flush of anger disappears from his face and all the hostility in his body dissipates, leaving just a deflated and weary Bakura.
"How did you find out?" Bakura asks, returning to his seat. He sinks into the seat, trying to get into a more comfortable position from the one he is in now.
"Rebecca," Kaiba responds, standing before his king with the air of a teacher whose pupil never listens. "She went undercover and found the heart of this war. It's a radical group of Half'n'Halfs who are trying to take over the realm."
Bakura is silent while he takes in the information "And they didn't go for their own government first? Not the greatest plan, eh."
"We suspect that Iona's job was to destroy the Demon Realm through you." Marik informs, watching his friend closely.
"So, she's probably returned to this...lair to report whatever information she has. I assume they attacked before." Bakura comments, pensively. What information would she possibly have on him?
"Indeed, they have. They were the ones who destroyed both castles and they were the ones who played both sides during The Battle at Angel Dome." There is a gentle whoosh as the tent flap flies open and closes once more. The teens turn to the door to see Rebecca, her eyes glued to an ethereal parchment she seems to be writing on. "This is a good truce, a bit ambiguous. I'll clear things up with the other advisors later. What I need to know is our next course of action."
As always, everyone stares at the young, intelligent girl. She had been almost silent when she entered the room yet she still had managed to answer the questions that no one really knew the answer to.
"You've seen the truce?" Kaiba comments, slightly disgruntled with how he wasn't the first to see the truce.
"Yep." And with the flick of her hand, an ethereal form appears before Kaiba. At first, the blob is formless, but it slowly morphs into the form of a parchment, and writing appears in a glow of light
"Thanks." Kaiba grunts, scanning the document for himself.
~.~
A soft groan escapes a body cocooned under a threadbare blanket as it shifts slightly, pulling what little covering it has further over its head. Unfortunately, the sun is relentless, shining through the shabby covers and waking the slumbering form.
Ryou frowns as he sits up in bed, rubbing the grit out of his eyes Bakura would be coming later today and they would discuss what the next step in their plain should be. Yet, Ryou had no clue of what the next step should be and he had little time to speak with his advisors. His father had not helped him at all, and he doubted that the man would be any help at this point in time, leaving the Angel Prince utterly alone.
Heaving a tired yawn and forcing himself out of bed, Ryou makes his way over to the tent flap, grabbing his clothes on the way out. He'd take a bath by the creek and then return and finish his discussions with his friends before Bakura arrives.
Throwing open the flap, Ryou is met by the brilliant rays of the sun, and the cacophonous clamor of people flying, screaming, and casting magic.
Author's Notes:
Please review. Or not. I get it…