NOTE TO ALL MY READERS: First off, I am SO sorry I took so long to update this story! I know I said I would finish it when I finished Dragon Rose and I still plan to, but I NEVER expected Frost King and Dragon Rose to take this long to finish, but OF COURSE college, RL and God knows what else just LOVES to fuck up my carefully planned deadlines. Now it looks like i have to push my Dragon rose and Frost King deadline back A WHOLE MONTH, because I spent like six weeks working on papers and final projects for school...thank GOD for my long winter break.
However, with that in mind I promised myself i would NEVER let a story NOT be updated long than a year, and I am ECSTATIC that I managed to accomplish that goal by not one but TWO days! I updated the last chapter on New Years and now (since Frost King STILL hasn't been returned from my beta) Here is the last update of the year!
Again, thank you SO much to all of my loyal readers for all of your patience and encouragement. I cannot apologize enough to the unexpected hiatus but rest assured I will NEVER leave a story unfinished and this story WILL be completed, and hopefully after January when I finish Dragon Rose and Frost King I can return to this story. Especially since i got past this chapter, I already got the next one in the works and from there the rest of the plot will sail nice and smoothly.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot: This is based on Viktor Hugo's original novel, the Walt Disney Adaption and the Hunchback of Notre Dame Musical. Yugioh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takehashi. I own nothing.
WARNINGS: Mentions of slight homophobia (intellectually, and only because of how Ryou was raised), also LOTS of acrobatic tricks PLEASE DO NOT TRY ANY OF THEM AT HOME! Religious themes, slight violence etc.
As always, read, review, reply, comment, critique and feel free to yell at me for the long wait.
Chapter 7: Circus
The crowd erupted. Not a single person wasn't cheering or trapped in awe. Bakura smirked at all their faces. The fawning swoons and wistful stares on the women. The licked lips of men at the sight of someone so beautiful, and the writhing expressions of jealousy and rage for making them desire another man. The cheers of delight, the gasps of astonishment, the leering eyes and adoring looks. The dropped, drooling jaws and dry lips. The whole crowd shoving and pushing towards the stage, desperate for a closer look at the one they called "The Glorious Emerald". Bakura loved every minute of it.
The Stage. This was his element. Where all he had to do was appear, beautiful and mysterious, from the swirling smoke and bask in the glory of all the stares and attention he received. This was why they called him the King of Thieves: one glance from Bakura and he immediately stole your heart. He commanded the attention of the courtyard like a king controlled a glorious empire. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see even the old bishop was staring wide-eyed at him, and he hadn't even started dancing yet.
Double-checking to make sure all eyes were on him, he twisted his body in a 30 degree angle moving his adjacent arm and the one at his side so they were both folded behind his head: the silver blades forming an X. He remained still for a moment, grinning as all his watchers leaned closer. Waiting. Finally, the music started playing in a slow melody.
Bakura burst to life with a sharp spin. His long dark green frock coat swirled with his movements. The velvety material folding and curving, highlighting every sharp turn of his hips, the action blazed the gold and purple flames spiraling along the hem of his train and sleeves to life. The silvery blades spun like pinwheels in his hands, as he moved them from behind his head into a diagonal line. The bells trimming his hem and cuffs jingled with a sweet chime as he danced.
With a sharp spin he gave the crew a view of his dazzling form for a sharp second. His long sun-kissed hair fanned beneath an enormous, curved, purple hat with an explosion of green and gold feathers. He juggled the blades in one hand while the other ripped off the hat and fanned it over his body before holding it straight in the air, revealing the emerald encrusted circlet he wore beneath. It did little to tame the wild, silver bangs that curled up like bat-wings. With his arm straight in the air he gave the crowd a view of the glittering gold and black vest, black slacks decorated with a gold, purple and green flame pattern that spiraled up his legs to the bright gold sash, decorated with purple and green moons and stars that he wore around his waist. Overall not a bad look but what irked him to no end were the purple curled toed slippers, and the bells he wore around his wrists and ankles. He tried not to think about how much he must've looked like a jester in them. If this was Chaos' punishment for getting in trouble with the guards, he'd never do it again.
A string of cat-calls and whistles from the crowd reminded him of where he was. He met the crowd with slight green eyes illuminated by the black mask he wore, simple except for the explosion of green and purple swirls around the eyes and the curling green, gold, and purple feathers that highlighted his hair with flames. He swirled his hat in a circle hiding random parts of his body until he brought it to just beneath his eyes. The seductive leer in them sent the entire crowd screaming. Finally, he threw the hat randomly into the crowd. He juggled one of the knives into his free hand before picking a safe direction and chucked them with such force they embedded themselves into the stone of a nearby building. Then suddenly, he burst into a combination of jumps, spins and acrobatic movements: the push and pulls of his body, the left, right and circular thrusts of his hips; and the constant back and forward, up and down movements of his slender body combined with his costume gave him the allusion of Mardi Gras colored flames or a rarely colored peacock unfurling its feathers for all to see.
This was his element. The stage where he performed and the dance where he teased and taunted with his body until his viewers literally emptied their pockets to reward him for such delightful entertainment. With his dance, Bakura Esmeralda could seduce an entire city. And he loved every second of it.
Now, how to make this more interesting? He pondered as he back-flipped across the stage and listened to the crowd's cheers, which had become dominated by screaming girls. This wouldn't do, he had to keep things fresh. The crowd wouldn't pay up or even stay long if they got bored too quickly. Besides, this was Mardi Gras, people expected things to be wild and chaotic, something they secretly wanted to see but knew if they requested it any other time of the year they'd be branded as heretics, coercing with prostitutes, or something else that would make them join the scourges of society.
Suddenly, he recognized a familiar costume and his green eyes locked with familiar black. He smirked when those dark eyes widened with the startled realization that they had been caught staring. Bakura gave him a flirtatious wink grinning when a faint pink dusted the boy's cheeks. A wicked idea formed in Bakura's mind as he swaggered towards the boy he knew.
Marik rose in his seat when the new dancer emerged from the smoke. His stunned eyes forced his body to lean forward, if only to confirm what he was seeing. He'd never seen this boy perform before and, at first glance, he immediately mistook the youth for his own ward, Ryou Glory. But his fears of the youth living a double life of sin were quickly quashed when the smoke cleared and he saw that Ryou Glory and this boy shared nothing in common except for the color of their hair. Even that wasn't completely accurate. Unlike Ryou Glory's pale white locks, this boy's were darker and sun-kissed. Briefly, he wondered if the shiny, rough-looking tresses had started off gray and had been bleached white from the sun, transforming it into a quicksilver color. The dancer's skin had also been kissed by the sun, not as darkly as his and his brother's was, but still rich enough that it was no longer pink but a caramel color. Upon closer inspection he could see the boy was also lean but muscled, no doubt from the dancing he'd done, where has his own ward, possessed solely upper body strength from ringing the bells. Most vivid of all, the Bishop noticed, were the striking jeweled eyes beneath the black mask: they were a vivid shade of emerald green, the exact same color as the large pendant he wore about his slender throat.
"Look at that atrocious display," Marik sneered in disgust, watching the boy dance with the grace of a woman, but the flexibility of a talented acrobat.
"Oh yes," Malik's voice dripped with desire. Marik shuddered at the loud slapping sound of his brother licking his lips. The Bishop was unsurprised to find the lecher drooling over the dancing youth like a dog over a raw steak. Malik's eyes practically stripped the boy of the intricate costume he wore, causing his brother to return his gaze to the show, if only to spare his eyes such horror. Now that he looked at it, he had to admit the dancer's costume did a spectacular job hiding the boy's true beauty while at the same time boasting a proud figure. It hugged him in all the right places and hid only what needed to be hidden. Even though most of his skin had been covered Marik swore this was worse than if the boy had been dancing on stage completely bare.
That costume only made the dancer's being more mysterious, more tempting, more ravishing. It drew the eyes to it with its outrageous design and made one recognize its true beauty. Then it forced you to wonder what other beauty lie beneath. Each layer was another method of seduction. The inner most layer hugged his luscious form perfectly, but the sash and bells drew you to the toned waist, slim wrists, and bare ankles. The coat covered the entire thing, like a giant feathery fan, making you desperate for more. It made weak-willed souls want to see what was beneath.
Fortunately, the Bishop was not a weak man. He did not have a sinner's soul. He was a righteous man. He did not give into the temptations of the flesh or allow himself to be swayed and not one day after he agreed that his ward would be his Glory and not his Defeat had he let himself be seduced in any way.
So then why did Marik find his own jaw falling when the boy bounced across the stage? Why did his heart leapt against his throat when he watched the boy do back-flips across the stage? Was this a test? He immediately cursed himself for his moment of weakness. He pulled himself back in his chair and covered his dreary face with his hand. Through the creases of his fingers, he watched the boy swaggered across the stage, dancing with a boldness not allowed anywhere else but on Mardi Gras. He felt the desires of the flesh stir in him with each curve and twist of the boy's perfect body. Every slow movement, made his stomach flip and his nerves jump to life. Each time his arms rose, boasting his form, was like a rush of fire through his blood, filling him with something thrilling and disgusting.
Lust. He realized with horror. God, no doubt, was testing him. He chuckled to himself. Ironic, how he'd marked this day as a test for his ward of the very same thing and now he, himself, was being tested. Well no matter, he decided. If God wanted him to prove his ability to be free from temptation than he would do so with pride. He would not sink into sacrilege like his brother whose eyes continued to follow the boy's thrusting hips like a dog drooling over a hanging piece of meat.
No, he was justly proud of his virtue.
*
Ryou felt his heart stop beating when Bakura began swaggering towards him still dancing in that flirtatious manner that had the entire crowd acting like drunken fools. He felt his cheeks heating up beneath his mask when Bakura turned that leering smile towards him. Suddenly, the gypsy acrobat did a front flip landing in a handstand then a split with an elegant leap that earned him a string of whistles, cat-calls and applauds. His next trick, when he got up, was a rapid spin that sent his entire coat fanning around him as he slid closer to the ground. He then rolled onto his stomach and did a few belly rolls before lying on his side until he landed right in front of Ryou and winked.
While the crowd cheered, shock stole Ryou's voice. The combination of his pale skin and the heated blush turned his face bright pink and he covered his mouth to hide his embarrassment. He wasn't naïve; the Bishop had made sure he was well-educated in taboo subjects such as sex, alcohol, homosexuality and other such sins that resulted from temptations of the flesh. Properness of etiquette between different and the same genders, specifically, as things to avoid, had been a firm part of his education. After all, his own being was a living temptation because it caused men to think of unholy things that should only be done with woman. But Ryou also knew that even if Bakura was just flirting with the entire crowd and not just him, he shouldn't be acting this way.
Before he could contemplate his sins, a strong hand seized Ryou's wrist and before he could raise his voice to protest, he found himself dragged roughly on the stage by the rouge gypsy. The wings of his costume tugged at his back, having been bent due to the crashing of the crowd pushing him against the stage, freeing a hiss of displeasure from his throat. It took all his will power not to scream when he saw his Master sitting in his throne-like booth. To make matters worse, it was directly level with the stage. Defensively, he pulled his hat tightly towards his head, double-checking to make sure not a single strand of his notorious white hair spilled out. Even his mask didn't seem enough to hide him now. He kept his hat close and his eyes on the ground letting Bakura spin him around like he was the feminine participant in a waltz. The cheers, whistles and applaud from the crowd were numbed by the voluminous pounding of Ryou's heart in his ears.
Finally, they stopped dancing and he crashed into Bakura. He almost fainted when his hat flew off and quickly replaced it while Bakura forced him to spin around and bowed lowly, taking Ryou with him. Then he rose them back up and threw his free arm across the air in a wave.
"Now," the gypsy acrobat cheered. "We have a special show for you folks, starring the Glorious Emerald and, for today only, the Angel of the Bells!"
Ryou almost fainted when Bakura gestured to him, making him the center of Paris' attention. He didn't have time to comprehend his position when he was pulled through the colorful tapestries of the tent, and could only release a voiceless scream.
The crowd erupted in cheers as green, purple, blue, and red smoke, suddenly exploded from the ground. Tent curtains around the stage opened revealing the poles and ropes set up earlier, traipse lowered themselves towards the ground, tightropes stretched from roofs like gymnastics bars, and beneath the smoke, the other performers were already setting up a capture net across the courtyard, in case of any accidents.
When thick smoke concealed them, Ryou spun around, all his panic and earlier fears replaced with aggravated rage.
"You!" the bell ringer snapped his voice dangerously low, both to keep the conversation private and to sound threatening. "What the devil did you think you were doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack with that little stunt of yours!" His rant halted Bakura's laughter. "And another thing!" The bell ringer waved an accusing finger at the taller man, his rage blinding him to his own boldness. "When did I ever agree to take part in any type of circus this evening?"
Bakura blinked the grinned merely amused by the younger man's outburst. "Well," Bakura countered by leaning forward and meeting the boy's nervous eyes. "Can you think of a better way to show off those acrobatics you bragged about, mon Ange?"
*
The crowd dispersed among the colorful tents that formed the circus. No doubt all wanting to see those scandalous gypsies engages in more acts of public indecency. Marik shook his head with disgust. "This entire city is becoming the earth's hell."
He made no effort to stop his brother when the man summoned his guards towards the circus. People crowed and crashed against the stage, desperate for a better seat, while others pooled around the tents anxious for the new display the gypsies had promised. Colorful smoke kept the secret hidden. Even from his pedestal he could barely see the shapes and shadows of performers moving among the tents and smoke. Instead of protesting such debauchery, he sat and remained silent. He had no intention of watching a bunch of prostitutes strip naked while the acrobats robbed everyone in sight. He cared little for the cockroaches viewing them, either. In his mind, even the upper-class had sunk into the pitfalls of society. However, as the Bishop, he had to make sure he still maintained a flawless reputation for those who inspired to be as chaste as himself. And that included his ward.
He couldn't see Ryou Glory's costume, so he assumed the boy was back stage with the gypsies preparing for the performance. Under different circumstances he would have been furious with his ward's act of betrayal, but he'd watched that gypsy whore pluck his innocent Ryou Glory out from the crowd like a rose from its shelter of thrones and dragged him into the garden of weeds hidden behind those deceiving circus curtains. He knew his ward was too kind-hearted to see the cunning of the outcasts, and thus too timid to refuse. He was quite impressed by Ryou Glory's disguise. The Bishop had almost missed him in that outrageous costume. He'd done well disguising himself, but the Bishop had recognized him the moment the lustful, silver-haired gypsy had pulled him next to him. With their difference even more profound in front of him, the Bishop hadn't failed to recognize his ward. It had only been a second before the gypsy dragged his ward off the stage and into the shelter of the smoke, but a second was all the Bishop needed. Even he never expected his little test would escalate to such a level. It was almost exactly as he planned it.
"Temptation." The Bishop found himself grinning. "The Lord does work in mysterious ways." Ironic, how they were both being tested today. His Ryou Glory would be faced with the temptations of the sins of the world, and he, himself, was being tested to break his vows of chastity. He already knew he would succeed. Now he could only hope his ward did not make the same mistake twice.
With a spew of the curtains, the smoke began to clear, and once again he saw his ward and the silver-haired gypsy that embodied his own temptation. Oh yes, the Lord's tests of character did work in mysterious ways.
"You…You can't be serious?" Ryou choked, extremely grateful the clouds of smoke hadn't dispersed yet. Of course, he loved all the running and jumping he did at the church when he rang the bells and on the roof, but that was Notre Dame! That was just for fun and no one there but the Grigori saw him doing it. The very thought of doing all that in front of the entire city…suddenly Ryou felt very dizzy.
"Hey, don't pass out on me runt, I'm not catching you if you do," Bakura snapped. "And my brother'll kill me if I screw up this show, so grow a spine, and let's go."
"I can't perform in public!" Ryou protested, terrified and stuttering incoherently. "I mean, well…I…do acrobatics but at home…in private… as part of my job and-". Before he could speak another word, Bakura had grabbed his arm and spun him around so they were both dancing, then Bakura pulled Ryou back against his stomach in a waltz position. "Just shut up and dance," he whispered in the boy's ear. "It's Mardi Gras, live a little." A wicked grin played across his face. He looked past Ryou then scurried about the tents, before jumping back on the stage. "And you might want to do that soon, the show's about to start!"
"What?" Bakura was already halfway across the stage before Ryou could process what he'd said.
"Hey!" the bell ringer screamed. Blinded by fury, he leaped on to the stage after him not noticing the smoke beginning to fade, the Mages from earlier dancing on stage, donning gold and silver bells that twinkled and jingled in an orchestra of chimes as they spun and danced.
Behind them Bakura burst across the stage, laughing and looking over his shoulder to make sure Ryou was still chasing him. "You're going to have to do better than that, runt!" He mocked, leaping towards the end of the stage where the Bishop's dais was and grabbed one of the guard's spears right out of his hands. Bakura spun it around with a smirk before slamming it into the ground like a javelin, and hurling himself onto one of the lower roofs where one of the tight ropes had been set up.
Ryou skidded to a halt, mortified at how close he had come to the Bishop. Reacting on instinct, he jumped from the stage only to be caught by Bakura, who grabbed his arm and hoisted him onto a firm tightrope decorated with colorful flags. Bakura had been careful to make sure the wings of Ryou's costumes didn't snag on the rope. The rope swung unstably underneath their combined weight. While Bakura stood perfectly balanced, like it was solid ground beneath his feet, Ryou stumbled to maintain his balance. He was used to balancing on solid beams, not shaky ropes. He took a step back from Bakura, desperate to keep his feet straight and held his wobbly arms out straight to keep himself balanced.
His face went red with rage and embarrassment when Bakura's peals of laughter echoed in his ears. "I knew you were all talk," he mocked. "Just don't mess up my act." He started walking backwards on the tightrope with ease, before positioning into a back flip. His hands landed on the rope and the rest of his body followed accordingly. Below the crowd erupted in cheers. Even the Bishop was leaning forward in his seat to watch.
Ryou's gloved hands clenched at his sides. "Fine!" He started swinging his hips from left to right, making the rope jiggle. Bakura started losing his balance and forced himself to stay straight.
"What the hell are a you-" The gypsy snapped, furiously until he caught the uncharacteristic smirk on Ryou's face.
"You want to see what I can do? Fine, I'll show you." Accepting the challenge, Ryou started shaking his hips, the rope followed. When it gathered enough momentum, Ryou leaped through the air and caught the trapeze with both hands and swung himself upward so he landed in a crouch position on the thin trapeze bar. His wings gave him the impression of flying. He flashed a boastful smile Bakura's way. "Catch me if you can, Bakura!"
Ryou swung the trapeze back and forth like a standing swing, then leaped onto the next one with the same skill. This time, however, he swung his body like a pendulum then propelled himself onto a nearby rope and swung in a circle. Below, the crowd cheered at his performance. Ryou finished by letting go of the rope and grabbing onto the tightrope with one hand, then carefully hoisted himself back up, and spread his arms wide to keep stable. Carefully, he walked backwards until he reached another roof, and leaped onto it. For his finale, he turned to the crowd and gave a wide bow, carefully holding his hat to keep it from falling off. The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Not bad, runt!" Ryou shot up and found his companion standing on one of the trapeze, swinging himself back and forth as he had done earlier. "But can you do this?" Bakura flashed a triumphant smirk before taking a step backwards off the trapeze, with no sign of panic. He caught the trapeze with one hand then used the other to swing up his weight, until he was hanging from the trapeze by his knees. He swung his body striking different poses as he did so, then released his hold, and swung to a loose rope that he climbed up with ease. When he reached the top, he climbed on top of the wood beam. Down below, he double-checked to make sure the crowd's eyes were all on him. All of them gasped with eyes wide with astonishment and suspense. Even the Bishop had risen from his seat, because the shade of his dais' curtains obstructed his view. The Captain of the Guards and his men were all standing on the stage trying to get the best look of the beautiful gypsy.
With a boastful swagger, Bakura ran across the beam, when he was halfway across it, he elegantly jumped from it and grabbed a rope. Swinging in a half circle until he came to a low roof, he let go and spun into a front flip landing feet first then fell to his knees. He sprinted across the roof, making sure to give Ryou a wink as he rushed past. He front flipped onto a lower roof, bolted across that, then grabbed another rope that swung by. When he was just above the stage he let go and front flipped the entire way down landing feet-first on the stage. The crowd exploded in cheers and began littering the stage with golden coins.
Above him, Ryou gave him an impressed smile, before stepping onto the tightrope. Taking a breath and spreading his arms, Ryou jumped down grabbing the rope and started climbing across it like a monkey across tree branches. When he reached the middle, he clenched the rope with both gloved hands and swung his body forward until he could swing his body back far enough to do a hand stand on the rope. When gravity pulled his body back down, he let go swinging towards and grabbing a lower tightrope. With the rope securely between his fingers, Ryou turned around and climbed on top of it so he was facing one of the hanging ropes. He jumped from the tightrope and onto the rope, swung it in a half circle as Bakura did, only this time he swung across the stage and didn't let go until he would land on the end of the stage. He dropped like a stone, landing carefully, then raced across the stage.
The colors of the tents and flags distorted past him like flashing lights, the gasps of the crowd vanished among the wind rushing in his ears and the excitement of his heart pounding in his ears as he made a sharp turn with ease: it was like nothing he ever felt before. He jumped forward and did a series of front flips before landing next to Bakura, with his arms spread towards the heavens.
The crows burst into cheers, gold and silver coins scattered across the floor like autumn leaves. The gypsies all lined upon the stage and bowed. "Thanks for coming folks!" Bakura raised his arms before three spheres appeared from nowhere between his fingers and he threw them against the ground. Clouds of smokes erupted and everyone vanished.
The cheers of the crowd were mere echoes by the time the two boys had slipped from the stage and into the colorful tents. Knowing Ryou couldn't see through the thick smoke, Bakura had grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the colorful haze. When they were safely hidden in the tent Ryou recognized as the one Bakura had been changing in when they first met, he exhaled a sharp breath and plopped down on a heavy trunk in the corner. "My goodness," he panted, carefully covering his heart. "That was more excitement than I ever want to have again."
Bakura snickered, closing the curtains behind him and sneaking over towards another open trunk that had simple clothes spilling out of it, and started removing his heavy costume as he did so. "I'll admit it, kid. That was an impressive show." He grabbed a wide-sleeved burgundy coat, a pair of simple blue pants and a white shirt and vanished behind another curtain. "That was more fun than I've had in ages." The gypsy laughed. "And did you see the money those lunatics were throwing? We're going to make a killing off this show!"
Ryou stiffened at that. His master's words coming back to him hauntingly clear. "You can't tell me all you care about is money!"
"Oh?" The silver-haired gypsy poked his head out from behind the curtain. Ryou vaguely noticed the heavy emerald hanging from his neck: the color identical to Bakura's eye color. "And why, pray tell, would you believe that?" He vanished back behind the curtain, the sounds of clothe being thrown about, and hitting skin followed.
"Because of the way you perform," Ryou replied, closing his eyes contently. "The way you dance, the way you performed those tricks, yes, there was a clear desire for attention in your actions, but it was more to it than that. You enjoyed performing those tricks, and you do so with such energy and passion…it looks like you're flying. When you dance…that's the only time you truly feel free. When you don't feel constricted by society or feel as though you have to hide. You're truly free to be yourself."
If Ryou could see Bakura, he would've seen the man had stopped moving as he listened. A small frown formed on his lips but he made no indication that he was listening, least not to Ryou.
"And how exactly would you know that?" Bakura snorted, keeping up a casual tone.
"Because that's the same way I feel when I ring the bells of Notre Dame each morning." Ryou admitted. "It's the only time I don't feel overwhelmed by the sins of the world… including my own."
"Sin?" Bakura threw the curtains aside, fully dressed. "I thought you said you weren't a priest or something."
"I'm not," Ryou corrected. "But it doesn't mean I don't accept what I am. I am a living temptation. If you saw my face behind this mask even you would be consumed by desire."
"Consumed by what?" Bakura rose a skeptical eyebrow, leaning forward to grab the front of Ryou's mask but the boy swatted his hands away, keeping his face and hair as concealed as possible. "Look kid, don't flatter yourself. I've seen the way people look at me, but I don't go around covering every inch of my body. If those lecherous bastards want some of this," he gestured to himself with his hand. "Well it's their damned souls, not mine. I just make the best of it."
"What in heaven's name do you mean by that?" Ryou gaped, flabbergasted.
"You're right, I do dance because I love it, but that's not the only reason," Bakura explained swaggering across the room like he was still on stage. "Do you know what I love the most?" He looked over his shoulder with a wicked smile and cynical eyes that reminded Ryou disturbingly of his Master. "I love seeing those lecherous bastards reduced to drooling dogs and shown for the scum they truly are. They take one look at me and they're seduced and they waste no time digging into their pockets and throwing whatever they've got at my feet to make me happy, and all I have to do is walk across the stage or shake my hips, and I love it. They can pretend to be all righteous and grand all they wish, but when they see me dance, their true faces come out and they are no different from the outcasts they have the audacity to criticize. And best if all, all of their precious money is what puts food on my family's table."
Ryou snorted and looked at the ground. "You sound like my Master. He doesn't believe people are incapable of change, either."
Bakura whirled around. "I'm only stating facts! That's what people think! I accept it. I'm not going on about how I'm an embodiment of sin."
"I never said that!" Ryou jumped to his feet standing as tall as he could to try and match Bakura's height. "And since we're on the subject, you're right, the world is full of sin. It's one of the reasons I choose not to leave the church, but that doesn't mean I assume everyone in the world is a lecher who wants to bed me!" he snapped.
Bakura's eyes lit with fury and he ceased Ryou by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him to his eye level. "Are you calling me a whore?"
"No," Ryou glared throwing his hands up to pry the older man off him. Despite Bakura's greater strength, he did so. "I think, however, that you're obnoxious, very crude and far too cynical to for own good!"
"I'm cynical?" Bakura's eyes flashed with anger and disbelief at the insult. "I'm not some hermit locking myself away in a tower because I think the world is evil! Seriously could you be more depressing? The world's not all grim and misery you know!"
"These words of comfort coming from a man who not a moment ago told me every man in the world is a lecherous fool who wastes money on debauchery!" Ryou protested fiercely.
"No," Bakura dragged out the word with a twitch of the eye. "I said that's what my customers were like." Bakura corrected waving an angry forefinger. "I happen to know a lot of people that are anything but that, most of which are people I live with."
"Then why did you not mention this when I said that I didn't believe everyone in the world was evil?" Ryou snapped back.
Frustrated and confused, Bakura screeched and grabbed his hair. "What are we arguing about now?"
"We were arguing about how you are cynical and I am depressing," Ryou answered with accuracy.
"Alright, will you stop talking so formally? You sound like a maidservant." Bakura shook his head. "Is there any particular time you have to be home? You said you live in the church right?"
Ryou nodded. "I must be back before sundown. That is usually when my Master returns."
"Fine, how about a deal," Bakura proposed. "If I can show you not to be depressed, you can show me not to be cynical. Deal?"
Ryou raised an eyebrow. "You mean if I can show you something to make your view of the world less cynical, in response, you shall show me something to make my view of the world less 'depressing' as you call it?"
Bakura looked like he wanted to collapse. "Not in so many words, but yes that is the gist of it. I did promise you a tour of the festival after the show, didn't I?"
Ryou pondered the idea. It would be nice to see the rest of the festival before it ended and he had to wait another year. And it was safer to travel with an escort, and much more enjoyable with company. And it would be several more hours until he had to return. "Alright," he agreed. "When do we leave?"
Bakura smirked and opened the exit curtain. "Right now, so move it."
Immediately after the show, the crowd dispersed. The upper classes returned to their homes, the peasants and lower classes returned to their shops, and the gypsies retreated to the shelter of their circus setting. Thought it was late evening and the Mari Gras had far from ended, people retreated to their own social circles for continual celebration. Clothing and status once again separated society. Though everyone dressed in colorful and lavish fashions, the textures and jewels distinguished the wealthier, higher-class men and nobles from the cheap, ragged wear of the beggars, bland colors of the peasants and scrapped, mix-matched collections worn by the gypsies.
And yet the courtyard in front of the church bustled with life and shops; different colored flags and painted banners still streamed the air like a giant colorful web connecting the rooftops. Shops created from traveling brightly painted caravans were still open: filled with baskets of fruits and vegetables, jugs of fresh water, rich wines, sweet juices and sour spiced punch. Children helped their parents by carrying baskets and crates or decorating the stands with flowers to make them stand out more. None of these people were wealthy.
Beggars in rags and brown cloaks gathered before the church and genuflected before the church begging for sanctuary and folded their hands in prayer. Some sat in corners, wrapped in their cloaks with only a small hat held out for gathering coins. People pretended not to see them but some charitable souls dropped coins in them as they passed.
Little boys covered in dirty, raggedy shirts and pants rushed out holding trays of food for shoppers to try. Young girls wearing only puffy sleeved dresses and short skirts that exposed their shaking knees and dirty arms handed out flowers and wreaths. In the courtyard, other children and parents went to the church and dropped donations in the baskets, before running to the courtyard to dance or play music. Most of the children wore no shoes. Even some of the adults had bare feet. Those that had the luxury of shoes wore old leather boots with ripped laces, worn soles or had holes all over them. Some wore cloth-like slippers that would do little to keep out the cold. Barely any of them had coats aside from the ones worn with their costumes. Those in costume wore old clothing with faded colors with many holes. Some were speckled with patches while others had the holes sewed up leaving a seam like multiple scars. The thick materials had been worn out from many years of use and yet they somehow still provided warmth.
And yet none of them seemed unhappy. There was true joy on their faces as the children played, the shoppers sold their products, and the beggars smiled each time they received charity. They seemed much happier than half the people who came to Notre Dame for mass.
When Bakura promised Ryou he'd show him that the world is not only a place of sin and suffering, he never expected this.
"See runt," Bakura snickered at Ryou's jaw-dropped face. "These are the beggars and outcasts those damned guards and Bishop despise so much. These are the people I live with outside the gypsies." The proud silver-haired gypsy strutted about and closed the gaped boy's mouth.
Ryou's eyes were wide with amazement, and bulging larger and larger with every image that past his way. He took small steps, slowly looking from direction to the other. Bakura rolled his eyes unsure whether to snicker or pity the boy. "My God, you weren't kidding about the sheltered life of yours, were you?"
"No, I wasn't," Ryou breathed. He'd watched the festival many times before but he, like everyone else, had retreated once the highlight of the day was over, leaving the nobles and vagabonds to return to their lives while he returned to his own of tending the tower. Even then he barely gave the people he saw beneath the walls of his tower as anything other than what his first glance told him. Had he really been oblivious to such joy for life, such beauty? When he himself had wanted so much to believe the Grigoris had been telling the truth when they told him there was more good in the world than bad? Had it really been there under his nose, quite literally, this whole time?
"You see, runt," Bakura leaned on Ryou's stiff shoulder. "Mardi Gras may only be once a year, but for us, life is like this every day. In our world, among the outcasts we have no race, religion, class, or skin color. It doesn't matter where we come from or what we've done in the past, all that matters is that we want a second chance. Here, we're all outcasts, thus this is the closest you'll ever get to equality." He swaggered around Ryou. "The upper-class only hates us 'cause we are, for lack of a better word, outcasts. They see us as a blight on their supposed utopia 'cause we're proof that it's not."
"I've been guilty of that," Ryou frowned.
"Eh, we all have," Bakura shrugged. "So have I convinced you not to—hey!"
Before Bakura could finish his sentence Ryou had already run off and was examining each caravan and stand like a child in a toy shop scrutinizing each object. The people happily answered his questions and some even offered to let him try the foods they sold. He offered them money in exchange but they refused. When he was done with one, he moved on to the other before Bakura could catch him. The boy was like a rat in a maze, darting from place to place and Bakura could barely keep up.
Ryou stopped when he spotted a fiddler playing a song and rushed over only to screech when he stumbled into a flock of geese that took to air in fright. He flopped back into a man carrying a crate of apples, spilling them. Immediately, Ryou apologized and started gathering them up, but when he turned to return them the man was gone, and people started stealing them from his very arms.
Suddenly, being surrounded by so many different people and not used to such a social setting, Ryou dropped all of them and stumbled back only for two strong arms to catch him. He started hyperventilating.
"You don't do well in social circles do you?" Ryou jumped and whirled around seeing that Bakura was keeping him from falling. "Guess you weren't kidding about that isolation thing?"
"No, I wasn't," Ryou blushed with a frown.
Bakura rolled his eyes and shoved the hat over Ryou's eyes. "You're lucky you're cute, kid. You'd be so helpless without me."
Ryou snorted. "You are so arrogant."
"That's a bad thing?" Bakura teased.
"It's a sin." Ryou snapped.
Bakura groaned. "What did we just get done discussing?"
Ryou opened his mouth, but was stunned to silence by the sound of a fiddle, flute, and other instruments playing in the square. An idea popped into Ryou's mind. "I promised to make you less cynical." Ryou turned to him with a bright smile that was met with a bewildered look from Bakura. "And I know how!" He grabbed the man's hand and dragged him towards the square and started spinning and dancing to the tune of the music. "Come on!" Ryou gestured for him to join him, as he grabbed multiple people to join in the dance.
"I don't dance," Bakura crossed his arms stubbornly and leaned against a caravan, but Ryou's determination was fierce and he grabbed the man by his arms and dragged him onto the courtyard and started dancing. "You dance all the time! Have you ever done it just for fun?"
"No," Bakura said harshly.
"Then let's start now!" Ryou started spinning, taking Bakura with him, while everyone around them clapped their hands in time with the beat of the music. Soon, other men and women and children joined them. Feet flew across the cobblestone steps. Bare feet and old shoes tapped like an orchestra in tune with their clapping hands. The people changed partners and Bakura and Ryou changed partners, Bakura looked at Ryou with a growl but Ryou just smiled and turned to dance with a little girl before spinning in the center of the chaos.
Bakura managed to weave away and watch him. His eyes blinked in surprise, and slight jealousy, as he watched…Ange. The boy moved so freely and so fluidly, like someone without a single care in the world. The boy was like a child who been outside for the first time: innocent and naïve and fascinated with anything he saw, and the way he danced was without any fear or self-consciousness. At one point he saw the boy slip and fall on his bottom, but he just shook his head and laughed and got right back up and did it again. Bakura would've been humiliated if that were him.
Bakura bit back a pout. He would not be jealous of a child. Especially one he didn't technically know the name of. "Come on, Bakura, dance!' Ryou called in a cheerful voice. His eyes were closed and his smile was bright with sweetness and childish wonder. Bakura felt his cheeks flame for some odd reason, and finally he conceded. The boy's squeal of delight was his reward. Ironically, he found it kind of cute.
And he had to admit, it was fun to just dance. Spin in circles like a child playing tag. Not wondering what move would make the most money, not having all those leering eyes on him. He watched Ryou spin with his arms spread, like he was flying, his wings and coat spinning about him as he laughed. The sound was like a sweet chime in Bakura's ears. Despite himself, he found himself grinning whenever Ryou's smile flashed his way. The boy had a magnetic personality. That had to be it. It was odd for someone so sheltered, but then again maybe that was part of the charm. All he knew was that he'd give anything to just keep dancing like this watching Ryou laugh and smile and feel like the world was perfect and nothing bad could ever happen to them.
Out of the corner of his eyes he caught the Bishop bulldozing through the crowd with the guards at his side, barking orders. Bakura cursed under his breath and whistled a code. Immediately, the store owners burst in front of the guards and bishop boasting their products. The Bishop declined each offer with a look of aversion but from what Bakura could see, it didn't stop him. Soon the guards began shoving people aside as the Bishop stormed towards the crowd.
Bakura whistled again and soon everyone started dancing and exchanging partners. His years of dancing paid off as he danced his way through the crowd, weaving between each person. He grabbed two cupcakes from a stand that sold such treats. Finally, he made it to Ryou and swooped around him, placing one cupcake in his hand and grabbed the other in a waltz position.
The boy was confused but danced along anyway careful not to lose his treat. Bakura turned to the musicians and winked, before gesturing his head towards the guards who were trying and failing to break up the festivities. Carefully, he stepped out of the center, taking Ryou with him. The dancers started to scatter, all moving in different directions, cutting off the guards before slipping into the cracks and alleyways about the cities. Bakura took Ryou's hand and slipped them around the church before gesturing for Ryou to run.
"Time to go," he winked, taking Ryou's hand gently, "Follow me."
Ryou did so, vaguely noticing a tiny flash of green as they rushed away. Soon, he found himself slipping through the nooks and crannies of a nearby alley. In the past, Ryou had stayed far away from alleys, hearing rumors of them being prime places for sinners and vagabonds and thus some of the most dangerous places in the city. Yet the ones Bakura took him to had an aura of safety. They were between houses or apartment buildings. They were by no means clean, but not as filthy or dark as he imagined either.
Bakura slipped into a crevice in the wall, and placed Ryou in front of him. He moved his finger to his lips. Ryou giggled with giddiness, until he saw the guards run by. Feeling like a child escaping its nanny, he covered his mouth to keep from giggling.
Bakura turned to him with a smirk before holding up the cupcake from earlier. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, holding it up. Understanding what he meant, Ryou laughed and they tapped the cupcakes together like wineglasses before devouring them.
"This was the best day of my life!" Ryou cheered as he and Bakura turned the corner. Bakura had volunteered to walk him back to the church since they'd run a fair distance from the courtyard. Bakura watched the boy swoon and laugh as he talked about his day, with a smile on his face.
"I'll admit it, I haven't enjoyed a festival this much in years," Bakura agreed with a humorous laugh.
"And thank you, by the way," Ryou smiled with a bowed head.
"I beg your pardon?" Bakura asked bewildered, just as the approached the back entrance to the church.
"You were right about me. I spent so much time 'watching' the lives of others and assuming what people were like simply because that's what I was told. You see, when I was young I believed there was still good in the world, I never stopped, but at the same time, I'd seen how some souls are beyond salvation and that scared me." The boy started shaking, his voice fading into a whisper.
Bakura's eyes widened. "Well, I can't deny that. Some people in this world are pretty bad." Bakura walked around to Ryou's side and tried pathetically to soothe him. "I mean I've seen some pretty bad stuff, myself. But you know, that doesn't mean there isn't still some good in the world." He explained giving him the same speech his sister told him.
To his relief, Ryou smiled then laughed. "You know that's my guardians told me as well, I guess I just needed proof to really believe it. So thank you!" Ryou smiled and wiped his eyes. "This was the best day of my life."
"You know something, kid?" Bakura smiled. "It was mine too."
Ryou nodded. "I'm grateful." The boy turned around and undid the lock on the door and moved to enter but before he could he, he felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder.
"Ryou," Bakura said quickly, his eyes down cast and his face shaking like he was nervous.
Ryou blinked and turned around to face him. "Yes?"
"Come with me." Bakura blurted out.
Ryou couldn't breathe. "What?"
"Come with me and my family to the Court of Miracles."
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! How many of you thought something bad was going to happen to Ryou? Seriously, i got such a kick out of that! Didn't i warn you all not to take the movie adaption into consideration when I wrote this? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Bet none of you saw that coming!
Originally, all this was going to be in the last chapter but am very happy I decided to split it since I got so much accomplished with this chapter in such a small amount of space. Seriously, i was convinced this chapter would be like 20 pages and it turned out to be only 12! The parts I am most proud of are Marik contemplating his lust and the dance and acrobatic scenes Ryou and Bakura did. I watched the original dance scenes Esmeralda did in the film at least 20 times, and Bakura's tricks were actually loosely based off the ones Captain Amelia did in Treasure Planet. I tried to make them as detailed and visual as I could and personally i'm pleased with them both. It was SO much fun trying to have Ryou and Bakura out do one another.
I'm also very proud of Marik in this chapter. In the original and almost every adaption of the story, Frollo viewed his lust for Esmeralda as a test from God, so I wanted to show the same thing with Marik but let me tell you it was NOT easy. Seriously, you try and write a guy who abhors sex, sees himself as incredibly virtuous and has never in his life felt any type of lust or temptation and get into HIS head and show how its OBVIOUS he's in lust with someone but he doesn't see it...it is NOT easy. So i was personally proud of how that came out.
My biggest concern with this chapter was the conversations between Ryou and Bakura: I had to re-read this entire fic myself to make sure their characters, actions and personalities fitted the ones they'd adapted in the story. As you all know i am PASSIONATE about in-characterization and its super-hard to do tendershipping, especially because of Bakura, so even though both of them lives slightly different lives in this one, i still felt they were similar enough that they shared SOME traits with their original counterparts: Ryou's still timid and submissive but still strong and has a backbone (he stood up to Bakura) and Bakura, while not a psychopath driven by revenge, is still cynical and likes to cause trouble purely for the sake of it. So hopefully, i managed to keep that consistency but also while I didn't want this to be the start of any such romance for them, i DID want it to be the start of a friendship. They both got issues to work out of course, and this is the middle ages, and with Ryou's strict upbringing and Bakura's loose one, the issue of homosexuality is gonna be a heated debate in this story (hopefully to replace the tragedy of society Hugo creates in the original relationship with Esmeralda and Quasi where Esmeralda was 16 and though she did eventually form a friendship with Quasi she was terrified of him and love phoebus even though he betrayed her, only wanted to sleep with her and in the musical coldly turned her over towards the guards-I loved her older, more mature Disney counterpart better for that reason but I given Esmeralda's naivety and young age in the original I have little doubt she would've eventually realized Phoebus was an ass, but point is even though Quasi is the nicest guy just like in the Disney version he gets screwed because of his appearance-so sad, I always cry when i see that movie, probably the whole reason Disney made a sequel movie) but anyway I'm rambling sorry-basically Ryou and Bakura are gonna experience a LOT of culture shocks in this, starting with the end of this chapter-and yes it was inspired from Tangled (the cupcake scene was too cute to pass up) ;)
Anyway, to all of you who not only put up with my atrocious updating but my boring notes-God Bless you! and to those of you who aren't religious, Thank you! Thank you all for not giving up on my second most popular fic!
ALSO! PLEASE READ: I have a poll on my profile for a Robin HoodxYugioh crossover I got inspired to do (same as my other stuff it is based on all adaptions and variations-and you all know that's a lot for Robin Hood) but i'm having trouble choosing a setting so if you could all do that that would be AWESOME! thank you so much!