Marik and Malik get some alone time together. What could possible go wrong?

Marik approached a large door at the end of the hall he had been instructed to follow. It obviously marked a new wing to the palace, and its appearance obviously marked that particular wing as belonging to the former Ishtari. He hesitated before the door, realizing that he had never been alone with Malik aside from when the two had shared a body (something he wasn't entirely clear on how it was possible or why it had happened in the first place). What if in the lack of Kat's direct presence, Malik actually was the sadistic entity that Marik remembered? He shook that thought from his head. No. Kat trusted Malik, and it was obvious that Malik had strong affections towards her and would never do anything that might upset her.

Marik raised his hand and lightly rapped his knuckles against the door. To his surprise, the door opened slightly. He peeked his head inside, hoping that the elemental the wing belonged to wasn't hiding and luring him in for an ambush of sorts. He didn't really know Malik enough to have any idea of what to expect. After glancing around cautiously, he determined that the elemental wasn't in this particular room. He slowly entered, taking in what Marik could only assume was a small living area. It was obvious this room was a bit more dated than the other parts of the palace that Marik had seen. The furniture and décor appeared to be from the mid to late seventies. There was a very dated recliner facing towards the wall that the door was attached to, with a very dated television set facing the recliner. Behind that chair was a small table with various items scattered about it.

Marik walked over to investigate further. He was surprised to see that the items scattered about were various medals, postcards, and handwritten letters. He picked up a few and glanced over them, noting they were from soldiers and families of soldiers from wars that had occurred in the past few hundred years. Marik set them back down, then turned his attention towards a few photos he had spotted amidst the haphazardly strewn mess. A few of the photos appeared to standard military that showed off the platoons Malik had been a part of. There were a few candid photos that showed him having a good time in bars and pubs with whatever militant company he had been with at the time.

One photo in particular stood out to Marik. It didn't show Malik with a random group of soldiers. Based on the jungle setting and the tank tops in the photo, Marik assumed that this particular photo had been taken sometime during the Vietnam war. The three figures in the photo stood in front of a helicopter, its pilot obviously being the dark-skinned man with short silver-white hair and a stitched scar down his right cheek. Bakura was wearing a pair of aviators while leaning with his arms crossed across his chest, his usual smirk painted on his face. Beside him was a petite woman leaning against an M40 sniper rifle that stood over half her height. Kat's wavy locks were pulled back tightly in the same bun-style ponytail that she had sported when Marik first met her. Then there was Malik, who was stationed inside the helicopter as the machine gun operator. Each wore a green colored beret, indicating their status as special forces members.

"I like that one," Malik commented, causing Marik to nearly jump through the roof (figuratively).

"How the hell does someone as big as you sneak up like that!?" Marik questioned rather loudly to himself.

"Sorry, old habit. I was trained to shadow the Pharaoh while not being seen or heard," the Ishtari replied. "I take it you are here to get changed for the gathering?" he then questioned.

Marik composed himself before turning towards the other Ishtar, suddenly noting the elemental's change in attire. Malik stood not far from him, wearing what Marik recognized from old scrolls as the official attire of an Ishtari. His apparel consisted of a fairly long schenti that was colored a deep cranberry red, paired with a gold and silver belt and matching adornments. Even his wesekh matched, with his usual citrine and emerald one hidden beneath.

"Oh no…" Marik grumbled, realizing why he had been sent first to Kat then to Malik. "There is no way I'm dressing like that. I don't care if this is a gathering for the Pharaoh, I am not wearing a schenti."

Malik looked down at the shorter Ishtar, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Ka-ib has asked that everyone in attendance dress in the old way, that includes you."

Marik recalled the message he was supposed to pass along, knowing now it most likely had something to do with the apparel he was going to have to reluctantly don. "And what she meant when she told me to tell you 'silver and madder root'?"

Malik's narrowed eyes turned to slight shock. "It means she has marked you not only as a protector, but as someone of great importance."

Now it was Marik's turn to appear shocked. "She has? What do you mean?"

"Color was symbolic in Kemet. Madder lake root was used to create a certain shade of red that was worn only by Ishtari and a few others marked as trusted guardians to the Royal Family. Silver was a very rare and precious metal in ancient times. It was more valuable than gold. Very few even possessed silver. To adorn oneself in it meant you were either extremely wealthy or very important to someone who was. In ancient times I did not possess a single article of silver. The only reason I do so now is because of its cleansing properties that help keep my mind whole."

Marik stared blankly, not certain how to respond to this bit of information. Kat thought that highly of him? He released a defeated sigh. "Now that you put it like that, I guess I can't complain. It's only for the evening after all."

"Unless she takes a liking to seeing you dressed this way," Malik stated with a knowing grin. "Much less to remove for 'romantic encounters'," he chuckled.

Marik's face fell. "I take it you are already aware of our 'romantic encounter' from earlier?"

"I'm not blind. I saw the fresh marks on your back. I know ka-ib, and I recognize her work. I must admit, I am surprised to see so few marks though. Unless they are hidden elsewhere."

"Elsewhere? Where else would she leave marks other than my back?"

Malik laughed loudly. "Perhaps that is something you should ask the Pharaoh. He still bears the scars from before she had claws and fangs."

"Yeeaaahhh…..I highly doubt that's something he would be willing to discuss with me, not that I'm exactly inclined myself to talk about my girlfriend's sexual encounters with her husband."

"Why not? You would be surprised how much the two of you have in common in the 'sexual encounters' department."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?!" Marik questioned, feeling annoyed.

"Tiny one, I was in your head and we shared a body. I know your secrets," the other Ishtar replied.

Marik scrunched up his nose in irritation. "Don't remind me of that. There's still parts of...all of it...that I don't get. Mostly the how and why."

Malik began to walk from the small living space to another room, motioning for Marik to follow. "The how is easy," he began to explain. "You are aware of what happened to the Runt?"

"Runt?"

"Forgive me, old nickname. Bakura was a late bloomer in the growth department. At one time, even ka-ib was taller than him. I called him a runt and it kind of stuck. He hates it, which gives me all the more reason to call him it," Malik chuckled.

"I see. And yes, I know about how he got trapped in the Millennium Ring. Kat showing me is kind of what started everything that led to….well...right now."

"So, you know what happened to me? Well...not me specifically, but my body?"

"Yes and no. All I really saw was one second you were there and the next there was a pile of sand."

"That sand was me. In the final moment when I sensed the spell's blow-back, I hardened my body. Having used my element as a shield, it protected me by drawing me in. My physical body was destroyed. What you see before you...it is simply a re-creation of my original form. I have no flesh, no blood. I am simply sand, soul, and magae. Like the Runt, I was a bit unaware for a while. It was like trying to reorient myself after a nearby explosion had gone off. Honestly, there are still parts that are a bit fuzzy. I recall hearing your screams, and somehow being drawn to the ritual taking place. I think small parts of me dropped into the open wounds that had been carved into your back. I remember seeing the face of that man, and wanting to punish him for hurting one so small. Then darkness. I remember feeling anger and hate, and wanting to punish the reason for the ritual's existence." Malik stopped, wincing as he tried to remember. "Something happened. It's like I shifted, but I didn't. I felt stronger, and the longer I was in whatever state I was in, the stronger I felt. Then I remember feeling fear, and begging. For what? I don't remember. Then I awoke in the Shadow Realm. My mind screamed, or at least I think it did? I don't know how long I was in that abyss, I only recall suddenly hearing the voice of ka-ib. I followed it until I found her...or perhaps she found me? I'm not certain. It wasn't until she replaced my collar that everything started to become more coherent. Once we were out of the Shadows, I was taken before the Elder and the Tribunal. As punishment, I was ordered to fix what I had destroyed. Not an easy task, and one I am still working on."

"If you can barely recall anything, then how can you claim to know my 'secrets'?" Marik questioned suspiciously.

"How to explain? It's like parts of you...or your memories rather...were imprinted onto my own. I see them as mine, but I am somehow aware that they do not belong to me. It's not all of your memories though. Just the ones that you pushed deep down and tried to keep hidden. Perhaps it was my way of protecting you? I am uncertain."

"Why did you attack Bakura in the first place? He told me and Yugi that you were trying to gather power to take on Ra." Marik recalled the small bit of information Bakura had shared the other day and thought perhaps Malik could offer more insight into it.

"I was, though I don't recall why. I barely recall anything in the days prior to what happened that day. It's like something had taken hold of my mind and was controlling me. Ironic, is it not? Controlling the mind of another while feeling as though you are in a similar state. I do know this: Had I been in the right state of mind, there is no way I would have done what I did. I would never intentionally do anything that might upset ka-ib," Malik stated earnestly. He then entered the room he had been standing outside of.

Marik followed and noted that this room was not as plain as the other, and its time period was from much farther back. This one was a bit more lavish in comparison, and looked as though it belonged to the era of a Roman gladiator. Malik's bed was made up of luxurious pillows and furs, much like how Bakura's had been in his soul room. There were various weapons placed decoratively on the walls, many of them being spears and short-swords paired with shields, along with a few khopeshes. Between the living area and Malik's bedroom, it was obvious he had a penchant for battle.

"Kat wasn't kidding when she told me you liked fighting," Marik said more to himself than to the Ishtar that was searching through a decorative box.

"It's what I'm good at. Though I don't enjoy hurting people if they are not deserving of it. The colosseums were an exception. Most gladiators were nothing more than slaves, but that did not stop the best from enjoying what they did. We all knew our battle was nothing more than a performance, and we, the performers. We knew when to hold back, and when to dig a little deeper into our opponent's flesh. We knew how to ensure that those we grew to call friend would stay in the people's favor, prolonging their life. Those who were eventually slated to die, did so with dignity. They asked that we not hold back, and to remember their names. I try to remember them all, and in doing so, ensure that they never truly die," Malik replied as he began searching through a different decorative box. "This will have to do," he said to himself as he took out a piece of linen dyed the same color as the schenti around his waist. The larger Ishtar then looked towards Marik. "Are you familiar with how to dress in the old way, or do you require my assistance?"

Marik's face fell again, along with his shoulders this time. "Unfortunately it was in one of the scrolls I was forced to memorize. Apparently knowing how to serve the Pharaoh by dressing him properly was deemed 'important'. I still can't believe I'm actually going to be wearing this," he commented while taking the linen that was presented to him. He turned his back to the Ishtari and quickly changed into the schenti, then turned back around, feeling very exposed.

Malik studied him for a moment, then nodded his approval. "It's a bit longer on you, but I think she will like it."

Marik sighed. "How can you stand wearing something so….revealing?"

"I grew up wearing it. This was actually considered being 'overdressed'," Malik said while laughing. "You should have seen what ka-ib would wear when dignitaries visited. She and the Pharaoh had devised a way to determine who would be loyal to their requests, and who would follow their own agenda."

"Oh?"

"When someone new came to visit, they would only meet the Pharaoh. He would offer for them to stay in the palace as his guest. He would state to them: 'You have journeyed long and far. Please feast and rest in my home. I only ask that you do not place your hands on any of my servants.' After, the hall would become filled with many exotic performers serving his guests, and they would be covered only in paint and the barest of linen to hide their lower extremity. Among them would be ka-ib. The Pharaoh would then momentarily excuse himself, and watch from somewhere hidden to see who would do as he had requested. When he returned, he would have the Ishtari check for smeared paint. Each performer was covered in a different color, my Queen would be the only one covered in black and gold. To have been caught with her paint on your hands….I'm certain you can imagine the consequences."

"It sounds like they made it into more than a test," Marik commented dryly.

"It was. To them it was both a test and a game. Often there would be bets placed on who would fail. There were many tell-tale signs, and those who displayed them were the ones ka-ib would go after personally. There were many who felt affronted at having been deceived, and they usually threatened war. That's when I was usually brought out from hiding. My appearance and size was quite intimidating back then, as was my voice due to an unfortunate training accident in my youth. I was easily recognized as ' The Maahes of Amarna'. It was rumored that the leonine deity had taken to guarding the Pharaoh personally, a rumor that the Pharaoh took full advantage of. I still find it amusing that the rumor wasn't entirely incorrect," Malik laughed. He had been searching through a box of decorative jewelry as he spoke, setting aside a few pieces.

Marik easily recognized the colorful winged sun theme the Ishtari was obviously going for. It was represented in both the wesekh and belt the larger Ishtar had placed aside. "None of that has the silver she asked for," he commented.

Malik looked toward the smaller Ishtar with a knowing smirk. He lightly placed the tips of his fingers first on the wesekh, changing the yellow of the gold to a shiny silver, then proceeded to do so with the other decorative adornments. "You forget, tiny one, I am made of the earth. I can summon forth any material found within it. Changing gold into silver is child's play."

"I can see that." Marik replied, a bit more surprised at what he had witnessed than he realized he should have been. He then sighed in slight annoyance. "Any way I can get you to call me something other than 'tiny one'? It feels kind of...demeaning."

"Demeaning? I did not mean to offend. You are correct though, calling you tiny one is...incorrect. You are no longer the tiny one. You are…" Malik paused, looking away in wistful concentration. He continued to think, closing his eyes to help better his focus. The larger Ishtar took in a few calming breaths, then began muttering to himself in Kemetic. "(I am Ishtari. I am a protector. My life belongs only to Pharaoh. I have no will, no choice. My will is only what Pharaoh commands. I have no family, only Pharoah. I am allowed no attachment. I am allowed NO attachment. It is forbidden. It is not permitted unless Pharaoh commands it. But Pharaoh commanded me to protect the one closest to my heart. She is my priority. Her words are absolute. No...that is...wrong? Pharaoh's words are absolute. But Pharaoh commanded….she is priority….protect and obey….no matter what….she is priority above Pharaoh….no...Pharoah is….but he…)"

Marik watched as the larger Ishtar began grasping at the sides of his head, obviously fighting some sort of inner mental turmoil. "Hey...you okay?" he questioned the conflicted elemental in concern.

Malik did not hear him, instead he continued his muttered ramblings. "(...I failed...failed! She died….they both died! I didn't protect them...I failed! But she lives? I will follow….I will obey….it is Pharaoh's command. She says it's okay...no...it's wrong...I cannot want...it's forbidden! NO ATTACHMENT. They are forbidden...but I want….she says it's okay to want….I can be...selfish. Selfish? What is that? I don't understand? It's to want? Nono...that's not allowed...it's forbidden. I am Ishtari. I am a protector. I protect. That is what I do. I was protecting...that woman….she needed...no...I cannot...it's wrong...wrong! But it will stop the tears...it will protect….she will be harmed no longer...yes...it is okay if it is to protect. No attachment. That is okay...I know who I am. I am Ishtari. I am a protector. The tiny one...he is so small...I will protect….I will keep safe….but...Ra….Ra will know. Ra will know! How to stop him? If I take his place...yes...yes! That will work. No. I cannot. I am not strong enough. How to become stronger? How to replace Ra? The Runt. He is strong. Ra dislikes him most. Perhaps if I rid him of the Runt, he will ignore….no...no he will not. He is Ra. I must take his place. But how to take out the Runt? The one who is closest to my heart...she can do it...no….she will not. She favors the Runt. But if I explain….no...she will not understand...perhaps if I….no...nono….but she has done no different? She made a bargain. She will not understand….not until I replace Ra….then she will understand...she will forgive….no...she won't...she won't. I only have to make her see….she would do the same….but how? I need magic...strong magic...a Millennium Item? Yes...yes! They are strong. The Rod….it will do….she will forgive...she will understand in time...but her mind is strong….how to make the magic stronger? Stones….they have properties….they have power….I will become Ra! I will protect! I am Ishtari! I am….I….am….no….nonono! It's wrong! It's not permitted! No attachment….no attachment...NO ATTACHM-)"

Malik's ramblings halted as he looked around, appearing confused as to where he was for a moment. He was crouched in a fetal position with his hands still clutching the sides of his head tightly, his fingers beginning to dig deeply into his scalp. The larger Ishtar continued to look about in confusion, until his head turned in the direction of the smaller Ishtar. He noted the extended arm that was lightly placed on his shoulder, and the concerned expression on Marik's face.

"Are you okay now?" Marik questioned, hoping that the pause in rambling was a good sign.

Malik dropped his hands and stood slowly, his head hung low the entire time. "My mind...it broke….didn't it?" he asked the smaller Ishtar, feeling ashamed.

"It's alright. I'm just glad you're...back," Marik replied, still concerned.

Malik's head continued to hang low. "What did I say?"

"Nothing too important. Just the ramblings of someone that has seen too much battle." Marik lied. He didn't want to mention the implications the Ishtari had made, fearing that he would return to his former ramblings….and not wanting to think about the implications in general.

Malik glanced towards Marik with a sideways glance. "Tiny on-...Marik….you are a terrible liar. Now tell me what I said," he demanded.

"I think you may remember why you tried to take on Ra."

"Why I tried to...ah yes...now I rememb-…..fuck." Malik cursed at himself. He then turned his gaze towards Marik, scowling. "How much of my ramblings did you understand?"

Marik looked away uncomfortably. "….all of it."

Malik's jaw became hard-set and his scowl deepened. "I do not recognize you as anything more than that woman's offspring. You would do well to remember that. I am not the Runt, and I am most definitely not the Pharaoh. I allow myself no attachment to anyone other than ka-ib, and only because she is my priority. I failed her not once, but twice now. I will not allow myself to fail her for a third time."

Marik nodded his head, confirming that he understood. It made pushing the implications out of his head that much easier. That's all they were after all….just implications….

"Does she know?" Marik found himself asking, 'she' being Kat.

Malik looked away again, not wanting to face the other Ishtar. "Of course she knows. I didn't tell her, but ka-ib always knows. Having you be the one to hold my collar...she knew...and she was testing," he stated irritably.

"My sister...is she...?" Marik continued to ask, against his better judgment.

"Nothing more than a reincarnation. The closest blood she shares with me is as my sister's descendant. Your adopted brother is nothing more than the reincarnation of my own."

Malik suddenly perked up, turning his head towards the balcony window of his room. "Speaking of...I do not recall ka-ib inviting them?"

"Inviting who?" Marik questioned, suspicious he knew the answer.

"Ishizu and Odion, they are here. Ka-ib would never invite them to a gathering such as this. She would introduce the Pharaoh to them alone."

"They're what!?" Marik exclaimed. "Oh gods, Ishizu is gonna kill me!" he shouted, holding the sides of his head in panic.

"Yes, I don't think she'll take too kindly to the idea of you and ka-ib being together, especially once she learns who ka-ib is," Malik stated, slightly irritated.

"I'm more worried what she'll think once the Pharaoh gets done talking to her! I could care less if Ishizu learns I'm dating the one our clan calls 'Usurper'."

Malik looked at him with a raised brow. "I wasn't talking about ka-ib's status with your clan, though it is comforting to know that you were able to look past that disgraceful title. I was talking about the fact that Ishizu will be furious to learn that you are having sex with the Pharaoh's wife."

Marik rubbed at his temples, trying to make the sudden headache that had formed go away. "Kat and I had planned on breaking the news to them later this week. Then again, the Pharaoh wasn't supposed to be coming back this soon. Argh! This is such a mess!"

A head of white hair popped up and over into Malik's balcony, the pale body it was attached to was covered in an open bright red robe and dark blue schenti. Gold and gems glittered decoratively across the figures fingers and around its neck, along with the Millennium Ring, as it stood looking at the two Ishtar's in perplexion.

"I'll admit, I hadn't expected to see the Tomb Keeper alone with you, but meh, whatever," Bakura shrugged.

"Why are the other two here? Ka-ib will not be pleased," Malik questioned the pale elemental bitterly.

Bakura held up his hands in explanation. "Wasn't my idea. Apparently the kid and his shadowy twin brought them. My guess is the hyper one either doesn't know or didn't care to explain the...delicate nature...between us and the zealots. Personally, I'm not going to be the one to tell Kat that they're here. Mkhai told me she went dark earlier. I'm not even tempting pissing her off if that's the case."

"Dark? You mean the thing she did with the black eyes and demonic sounding voice?" Marik questioned, feeling that is exactly what the pale elemental was referring to.

Bakura looked at the Tomb Keeper with a shocked expression. "You were there when it happened?! What provoked it?" he asked curiously.

Marik rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. "The Pharaoh and I….we might have been trying to beat the shit out of each other."

Both Bakura and Malik stared blankly at him. "I'm going to regret asking what happened…" Bakura stated.

"He was hurting her! Do you think I was just going to stand by and watch?!" Marik said angrily.

Malik stood straight and tall, his eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

"The Pharaoh was digging his fingers into Kat's arms while he shook her and told her she belonged to him!"

Malik closed his eyes as he began to breath heavily in anger, clenching his fists tightly. "And you left her alone with him?!"

"I did what she asked. I think she may have gotten through to him that what he did was wrong, or at least that's how it appeared before I left."

This seemed to calm down Malik, as he unclenched his fists and re-opened his eyes, taking in and releasing a calming breath. "I see. Ka-ib would not send you away to me if she did not think the situation was under her control. Perhaps she was able to talk sense into him. If so, then maybe things will not be quite so bad with your sister."

"Sounds like wishful thinking," Marik stated unenthusiastically.

"Hey, so...one good thing about the Tomb Keeper's sister being here: It made getting Téa ready a bit easier. There was no way I was going to suggest helping her get dressed in what Kat provided. Especially since that dress was not made for someone with...larger endowments. Ishizu really pulled through with a dress of her own," Bakura commented, trying to lighten the mood.

"You didn't tell her anything, did you?" Marik questioned.

"Are you kidding! She apparently could tell I was not Ryou….and she didn't look too happy to see me. I'm guessing you mentioned my involvement in Battle City?"

"Oh, yeah. Forgot I told her about you. Ugh...this is going to be a very long evening," Marik said while sighing in exasperation.

"Very long indeed. Not only do we have to explain the Runt's situation along with your romantic endeavors with the Pharaoh's Queen, I'm curious to figure out how we are going to explain me? I'm assuming that they think I am...what? Some sort of entity that you created?" Malik pondered.

"Aargh! I just wanted to spend the evening with my girlfriend! Not dealing with her revived husband and trying to explain five-thousand years worth of inaccurate information to my sister!" Marik shouted in irritation while running his hand through his hair. "Ah fuck it all! I guess all I can do is finish getting ready and deal with this shit as it hits the fan..."

Poor Malik :(

NGL, I love Malik (aka Yami Marik/Yami Malik). I love to read Deathshipping fics. Most are just full of so much fluff! :D

Sadly, I don't write fluff. I write PAIN.

Yes, Marik is starting to sound very much like how he did when he realized the Pharaoh had outsmarted him with the Revival Jam loop.