AN: I don't own Yu Gi Oh! Thanks for reading/reviewing/faving/everything else! You guys are awesome and amazing and I 3 each and every one of you! Here's a happy one! (Warning: you may actually rot your teeth or gag on this one) Enjoy!

20. Jealous

A troupe of beautiful enchantresses were twisting and turning their way before Pharaoh's throne; they had taken control over the grand center of the throne room, capturing the attention of all while they moved with the hypnotically entrancing power of a rising snake. The foreigners moved in time with the musicians that had come with them in their journey. Brightly colored scarves and skirts melded into one as the dancers' quick movements sent them flying about like crazed spirits.

Pharaoh watched from his throne with a relaxed smile upon his regal face. His foot tapped subtly in time with the music while his hands clapped lightly together in rhythm. The entertainment was not only a wonderfully pleasant distraction, but a novel one at that; all of it, the dress, the sound, the dance, the exotic appearance of the beauties, were all quite new to the Great King, and his eyes were devouring the scene with relish.

Suddenly the dancers scattered to the sides only to quickly return, each with two short sticks of carved and sanded wood in hand. With deft precision the troupe quickly fell back into their performance as though they had never paused at all. Each dancer whirled about with the sticks in hand, tapping them twice against those of any dancer they met in their flurry of motion. Pharaoh watched with great curiosity as one by one dancers began to fall out of the group, moving to a respectful distance on either side of Pharaoh's throne, bowing against the ground before it.

For the briefest of moments Pharaoh's face screwed in confusion before he let out an abandoned laugh of pure mirth. He clapped his hands together hard once in his joy. So it had become a game!

If nothing else these foreigners certainly knew how to please the pharaoh of Upper and Lower Kehmet. He made a distant and distracted mental note to listen carefully to the wants of this caravan of foreigners; he was most definitely interested in their return to his palace.

So enraptured was Pharaoh in the captivating creatures before him as they fell one by one from the game that he almost missed the figure in the edge of his peripheral vision.

In stark contrast from the brilliant and bright display of whirls and twirls before him this creature only exhibited the barest of movements as he disappeared from the very edge of Pharaoh's court. Though he wished to follow Pharaoh waited patiently as dancers continued to fall from the game, choosing to enjoy the show he was held captive to, until the very last had come to fall prostrate directly in front of his throne. He clapped heartily in appreciation of the masterful performance and his court followed suit. The apparent winner of the game was finally helped to her feet by one of her tribesmen, and brought a bit closer, yet still several feet away, before Pharaoh's throne.

She was undoubtedly beautiful; large, bright eyes stared respectfully to the ground by his feet, a demure and pleasant smile rested on her full lips, her dark hair fell in a thick braid down her back, and her sandy-brown skin stood out wonderfully against the bright hues of blue, red, and gold she was adorned with. Through a rather broken and halted form of his native language the tribesman beside the gorgeous artist, middle-aged and portly with a long, greying beard and mustache, offered the young woman to the Great Pharaoh, if he would so choose to have her.

The Great Pharaoh in question bit his cheek in his effort not to laugh; he had a feeling that his acceptance of the gift would not be so well appreciated by the one who mattered most.

With a kind smile he raised a hand in refusal and spoke so as to not offend.

"Your people may go from this place with my blessing without further tribute. Your dance has been gift enough, if I were to take more I believe I would be in your debt." He paused to turn from surprised tribesman to the dancer.

"While I, Pharaoh, have found much enjoyment in your performance and that of your partners, fair beauty, I believe you would be better suited to your home than to this one. I only ask that your people make sure to visit my home at least once a season, so that I may enjoy your dances throughout the year. Pharaoh has spoken." He watched with some amusement as both dancer and tribesman blushed at his compliments and the tribesman's quick and eager agreement to visit Pharaoh's house as often as the ruler would like and travel would allow.

With a wave of his hand the group was dismissed, and Pharaoh anxiously waited for the musicians, foreign or his own, to once again start up their instruments. Impatience was beginning to fill him and he was forced to restrain himself from demanding that his court carry on with the entertainment in a more timely fashion; although he could unquestionably he would rather not attract more attention to himself than necessary. His goal was to sneak from the throne room, not to surprise his guards and priests into following him about; that would not do at all.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the young ruler, the musicians had once again begun to perform and the attention of his court had once again returned to the excitement at hand as dancers of his own moved in time with the beat of the instruments. Quietly, and with the slyness of a thief, Pharaoh stood from his throne and managed, amazingly enough, to remove himself from the throne room without attracting the eye of one patron or priest.

Deftly he slipped into the hall corridor and let his shoulders relax with a small exhale. For now there were no guards following him, and no priests with them in tow; he could afford to be a man and not a king for the next few moments. Besides, out of view of his priests, any guard could be quickly dismissed; so long as he could avoid his priests, Seto in particular, he was free to do as he pleased in this moment. And he knew exactly what he wanted to do right now.

It was as easy as ever to find him. He almost smirked when he saw the familiar outline cast in shadow by the glow of the shining moon overhead. Despite what the boy seemed to think he was very far from sneaky, and it never took Pharaoh more than a few moments to successfully seek him out. With a definite smirk now curling at his lips Pharaoh moved silently as a spider in his delicate slippers. He paused ever so slightly before moving to wrap his arms around the waist of the young man gazing up to the heavens, and pulled the youth closer against him.

With a strangled cry of shock the boy in his arms whirled around to come bare chest to Pharaoh's clothed one, arms up and body rigid in ready defense. Pharaoh couldn't help but laugh at the way the boy's whole body seemed to sag in relief when he realized just who his 'captor' was, or the pout of a scowl that graced his features in response. It was with some effort that Pharaoh actually forced his laughter down, reminding himself that such actions were hardly going to put him back in the good graces of the young man before him, who he was most certain he was on ill-standing with at the moment.

"You left," he commented with some amusement, pressing gently against the boy's back to bring him closer.

The boy resisted against the affectionate force. "You seemed to be having a good enough time," came the rather short reply.

Pharaoh almost smiled; the lack of formality, the very ability to be at all cross with the great ruler of Upper and Lower Kehmet, it was a wonderful moment of normalcy. He almost smiled, but did not; however trivial the matter that made him so irate he would handle it gracefully.

"Now Love, how could I ever have a good time when you are slinking off to the dark corners of my palace and taking the most beautiful thing within these walls away from my sight?"

The moonlight shone on the boy's cheek a hue of red so dark it stood out even against his tanned skin. Pharaoh removed one arm from the boy's back to stroke the cheek with the back of his hand, pleased when it darkened further.

"She looked beautiful enough to capture all of your attention." The boy twisted, but not enough so as to remove himself from Pharaoh's grasp.

At that Pharaoh chuckled very softly and put his lips very close to the smaller man's ear. "My Love," he whispered, and was rewarded with a shudder and suppressed squeak of a moan in return, "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?"

Pharaoh could feel the skin against his own heat up. Once again the bundle in his arms shifted, but did not resist as he pressed him close enough so that their bodies nearly folded into one another. Finally the boy spoke, this time with a hint of despondency and self-doubt.

"Well, what should I think when I see you enjoying their company so thoroughly? What am I blessed with that could complete with those who would throw themselves at your feet? I am only a flicker of flame compared to their blazing glory."

Pharaoh gave the boy one firm squeeze within his grasp before stepping back to hold the boy at just short of arm's length, hands firmly clasped on the boy's biceps.

"My Dearest Heba," he moved to lift the boy's chin so their eyes bore into one another. "Never in all of my palace, in all of Upper and Lower Kehmet, in all of the foreign kingdoms in all the lands, could I ever find a beauty that could compare to the one I find within you."

"Atemu..." he trailed off and did nothing to stop Pharaoh's lips from descending on his own in a kiss that spoke even more profoundly than his words.

They stayed joined that way for a long moment, deepening the kiss briefly before separating and resting against one another. For the next few minutes they stood in silence, bathed in the glow of the moon, listening to the distant sound of music and merriment as it echoed from Pharaoh's throne room.

Pharaoh was, unsurprisingly, the first to disrupt the sedate sweetness.

"One of them was offered to me, you know," he teased, his chin dipped into his lover's clavicle.

Without looking Pharaoh could tell the boy was rolling his eyes at the monarch. "I would have been more surprised if they had not," he commented dryly. There was a pause before Heba could apparently no longer resist the temptation. "Which one?"

Atemu nearly laughed. "The one in blue, red, and gold, long braid of hair, almost the size of yourself."

"Atemu," he replied slowly, "That described at least a third of the dancers."

Against his lover's body Pharaoh merely shrugged. "Ah, well, I admit, I paid little attention to what they looked like; I was more interested in their dancing My Heba. They just all melt into one image after a while."

Pharaoh felt Heba's soft chuckle and the shake of his head, and smiled into the skin of his neck. "Oh, Atemu, if only they knew."

Pharaoh replied first not with words, but with a heartfelt press of his lips into Heba's soft neck, momentarily suckling the skin to get the reaction he desired, before saying, "See Dearest? You have absolutely nothing to be jealous over with those women."

This time it was Heba's turn to tease his lover, His Pharaoh. "Hm, so should I worry instead then, over your running off with High Priest Seto?"

Heba nearly guffawed at the choked convulsion his lover made against him.

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