Mana leaned her back heavily against the ornate doorway, a set of jewel-encrusted golden doors leading into the Pharaoh's audience hall. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides and her stomach burned like a brewing, black cauldron.

"Mana…what are we going to do? We're not just going to sit back and let this happen, are we?!"

With a sigh, Mana lifted her head toward the voice of the young, white-robed man beside her, another of Mahaado's magicians-in-training. Her eyes strayed to his bone-white knuckles. He'd been gripping his staff in anger and agitation for almost half an hour now.

"Minmose is right!" exclaimed a curly-haired young man to Mana's left. "We have to do something to help Master Mahaado!"

"This isn't fair," agreed the slender, gangly teen next to Minmose. He gesticulated widely with his staff as he continued,"Everyone makes mistakes. Master Mahaado doesn't deserve this!"

"If Mahaado gets banished, what are we going to do?" shouted a fourth voice. "Our training isn't complete and we need Master Mahaado to guide us!"

Mana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to tune out the distraught voices next to her. It was no use. Everytime she closed her eyes, she saw the same scene. Six guards roughly hauling a despondent Mahaado into the pharaoh's courtroom. His chestnut brown hair was disheveled, his eyes downcast. His arms were bound painfully behind his back with thick ropes that blocked his heka. Mana's insides unraveled remembering the look of utter despair and resignation on his face. Her face burned with shame at her own powerlessness.

"Mana," a voice pleaded, cutting through her thoughts. "Please say something…you're Master Mahaado's top student! Tell us what we should do to stop this!"

Instead of answering, Mana turned around and faced the looming doorway. She slowly pressed her forehead and her palm against the cool metal door, her body trembling in frustration. "This can't be real…"

On the other side of the doorway, Mahaado was slumped over on his knees in the middle of the room, his shoulders hunched, silky brown tresses obscuring his solemn face. The six guards from earlier, guards Mahaado had trained and mentored himself, stood fanned out around him in a circle, the spearpoint of their weapons pressing into the skin at Mahaado's shoulders, back, and chest. Droplets of blood dripped from their weapons to the pristine floor underneath them. On the other side of the room stood Mahaado's former colleagues, the other members of the Divine Company. To Atem's immediate right stood Isis, her fingers twitching spasmodically. Every so often, she would glance over at Mahaado, his public humiliation making her heart sick with fury and pain. If only I could have predicted this ahead of time. But that was impossible, she knew. Afterall, she couldn't see the future of a person with a Millennium item. Hushed whispers snapped her out of her thoughts. A group of pale, slender women stood speaking hasty words behind their hands. At each of their necks hung a pendant of blue faience, the image of a pointy-eared, pointy-tailed animal engraved in the center of each one. It was the mark of Priest Seto's self-proclaimed admirers. They, like Priest Seto himself, had always resented Mahaado. They used their access to the Pharaoh's court to spread rumors about the senior court magician in an attempt to sabotage his close relationship with the Great Pharaoh. Now, with Mahaado crumpled before them all, the Red Lord's admirers practically tingled with excitement and savage glee. Their sharp eyes spoke of nothing but their illusions of grandeur and their soon-to-be satiated bloodlust. As Isis scanned the room, her eyes landed on more unfriendly faces. Dozens of jealous courtiers and low-ranking magicians stood around, some indifferent to Mahaado's plight and others who glowered at Mahaado with open hostility.

Isis felt the whole room shift as the Pharaoh rose from his throne, the assembled audience bowing low in respect. Isis caught sight of the sad, tormented look in the Pharaoh's eyes as he passed by, softly pressing a cold hand to Isis' shoulder before continuing. He walked slowly forward, the lines of his body sharp and tense. He stopped inches away from Mahaado, who simply stared unseeingly at the patch of floor in front of him.

"Mahaado," Atem began, his usually honeyed voice low and grave, "explain to the court why we are gathered here today. Explain to the court why my senior most magician, why my most trusted advisor is standing in shame in front of me."

"I have failed you, my Pharaoh," Mahaado said simply, in a tortured voice barely above a whisper.

"Mahaado, it gives me no joy to punish one of my own." Mahaado felt gentle fingers tilt his chip up, up, up until his eyes met Atem's. He could feel Atem's breath ghost over his skin as he said, "You were my closest advisor. My most trusted friend. My dearest companion." Atem released Mahaado's chin, running his fingers over his friend's cheek, then suddenly fisting a handful of his honey-chocolate hair, yanking Mahaado closer to him. With his lips to Mahaado's ear, the assembled audience had to strain to hear the Pharaoh's next words. "But now, I can no longer trust you with the safety of this kingdom. You are no longer my High Priest." Mahaado let out a soft cry of anguish as Atem's fingers slipped from his hair. He looked up, watching Atem's retreating back with increasing despair. Atem settled back on his throne and nodded once to the tall, blue-clad priest to his left. "Begin," he said simply.

Seto gingerly slid his Millennium rod from its place at his belt, the light of the braziers glinting menacingly as he stepped toward the fallen priest. "I warned you, Mahaado. I told you the day Bakura strolled in here carrying the Great Pharaoh's late father's corpse that you won't get a second chance to clear your name." Atem stiffened. Was he really going to stand by helplessly as his best friend's body was flayed? as his bones were broken? as he was executed as a warning to others? Atem's thoughts scattered as he watched Seto wave off the guards, who bowed once and returned to their places on either side of the grand doorway. With his other hand, he motioned toward the group of slender, female courtiers, who sauntered over excitedly, their coquettish giggles filling the room. Isis peered closely and noticed that each of Seto's followers held a slim black box in hand. Seto nodded to them wordlessly and each courtier popped open her box, revealing a multicolored ribbon inside. Seven women and seven ribbons. From her place at Atem's side, Isis stifled a horrified gasp. "The seven ribbons of Hathor!" she heard Shada exclaim from beside her. "Those bindings are strong enough to immobilize a god!"

Isis turned back to the scene in front of her, her eyes widening to the size of saucers as the lithe figures pushed Mahaado down, spreading his legs. They wound the magical ribbons tightly around Mahaado's limbs, their hands gratuitously caressing Mahaado's body as they went about their task. They snaked their hands down the inside of his thigh, grazed their fingers against the dip of his hip, dragged their nails along the curve of his spine.

Seto cleared his throat and the women stood, fanning out next to the High Priest and dropping their boxes at his feet. Seto nodded once and the women swarmed Mahaado once again, their high-pitch giggles drowning out the sound of Mahaado's thundering heartbeat.

"Set-? What?" Mahaado gasped, as he felt those soft hands descend upon him again. Seto, for his part, stood watching the scene, his arms folded at his chest, his mouth upturned in an arrogant smirk. Mahaado felt the many hands glide up the sensitive flesh at his inner thighs until they reached the golden band at his waist. With a click, the band unclasped. Mahaado heard the distinct clink, clink as it bounced once, twice, before skidding across the floor. Before he had time to think, he felt his long robes being hitched up, bunching around his now-exposed hips until they were pulled up and over his head by the frenzied, grabbing hands all around him. Across the room, Atem gulped, feeling heat rising in his lower parts as inches and inches of Mahaado's toned chest came into view. He heard a soft moan escape from Mahaado's lips as one of Seto's loyal courtiers squeezed the tip of his right nipple. Distracted by the sudden pleasure that shot through him, Mahaado barely registered his soft linen undergarment sliding down his waist, over his thighs, and across his calves. The courtiers slipped his shenti over his ankles and threw it carelessly to the side. As Mahaado's impressive manhood came into full view, a sudden thud-thud-thud was heard across the room. Atem's eyes shifted around the room just in time to see a few of the lower-ranking male magicians fall to the floor, their eyes rolling back in their heads as they lost consciousness.

On the other side of the wall, Mana was a nervous wreck. The thick doorway had obscured most of the conversation happening on the other side, but her eyes flew open when she heard a successive thud-thud-thud . "What in the world?" she heard Minmose ask. "I can't take it anymore!" another apprentice shouted. "We have to help him! We can't abandon our Master!"

Gritting her teeth, Mana leaned her whole weight against the doorway. The other apprentices quickly joined her, pushing their shoulders into the doorway until it swung open. Tens of eyes stared back at them, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. Mana's eyes scanned the room until she saw it. In the center of the floor was none other than Master Mahaado, his tan limbs bare, save for the colored ribbons binding him. As a magician-in-training, Mana recognized those luminescent ribbons immediately. She felt the blood drain from her face as Minmose gasped, "The seven r-ribbons of H-Hathor?!" With her heart hammering in her chest, Mana's gaze zeroed in on the seven sets of hands clamoring around her master's body…squeezing his hips…cupping his buttocks…caressing his naked chest?! Mana turned beet-red. Minmose screamed.

Atem coughed, rising from his throne on shaky legs. All eyes turned to him as he said, "That's quite enough, Seto…I think Mahaado has learned his lesson." As Atem approached the center of the room, the playful courtiers froze, glancing uncertainly between Pharaoh Atem and Priest Seto. Atem turned his burning gaze toward the seven courtiers. "Help him stand," he commanded. The seven women scrambled, pulling Mahaado to his feet as quickly and carefully as they could. Atem stepped forward, his skin burning at his close proximity to Mahaado's nude body. "Mahaado," Atem began, his voice warm and a bit husky. "I forgive you. I can't imagine how I'd run this kingdom without you by my side." Taking a step back, Atem closed his eyes, his hands reaching behind his neck to unfasten the clasps of his flowing, purple cape. In one swift movement, he stepped back into Mahaado's space, gently wrapping the pharaonic cape around his friend's exposed lower region, his fingers lingering an extra moment on Mahaado's waist.

Mahaado blinked, overwhelmed with disbelief. "My k-king?"

"You heard me, Mahaado. You are to get dressed and return to your duties." Atem turned and looked at Mahaado's apprentices-in-training, who looked almost as shell-shocked as their master. "Escort your master to the baths." Taking hold of their master's shoulder, the apprentices gently led Mahaado away. Mana caught Atem's eyes as she turned, a look of confusion in her soft eyes. Atem shook his head, not now. With a nod, Mana slowly turned away and disappeared with Mahaado and the other magicians-in-training out the grand doorway and into the labyrinth of the palace.

At his left, Atem could hear Akhenaden reprimand Seto, trying to haul him too away from the scene. "Seto, what is the meaning of this? Since when is that how sacred guardians deliver the judgment of ma'at? I've never in all my years seen such an indecent display of –" Akhendan silenced himself as he noticed the Pharaoh approaching him and Seto. "Great Pharaoh," Akhenaden pleaded, "Seto…h-he didn't mean t-to…" Atem quieted him with a raised hand. He looked directly over at Seto, who caught his gaze immediately. Seto's breath hitched as he saw the warm arousal and lust laid bare in those wine-red eyes. "Seto…" Atem began, his voice warm and thick. "Well done." Akhenden coughed and sputtered as the Pharaoh walked out the great audience hall.

Notes:

This is partly inspired by a very horny alliumshipping artwork created by yearslateforyugiohshippings on Tumblr. The "seven ribbons of Hathor" is a reference to The Kane Chronicles triology by Rick Riordian.