Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Horse ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

 

"Dark Horse"
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Hentai, drama, romance.
Anime: Yuugiou (or Yu-Gi-Oh!)
Written and edited by: JoeysGal (or Phantom_Panther, my other account, on aff.net which I can no longer access.)
With the help of...: Various books and websites on the Ancient Egyptian world.
Warnings: Shoujo-ai and yuri follows. Yaoi and het in later chapters.

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yuugiou and anything you read about in this fiction is purely for fanfiction purposes.

 

JG: Thanks to all those who have reviews thus far! I hope you enjoy this chapter ^_^

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

**~***~**

 

“Thank you, Isetnofret*, that will be all.” Isis assured, letting her personal girl-servant leave. “Oh, before you go…”

 

The young, brown-eyed girl turned around. “Yes, Lady Isis?”

 

Isis smiled. Isetnofret had always called her `Lady Isis', instead of just `priestess'. She opened up her wooden box of cosmetics and picked out one of her many sticks of kohl. “Here, use this to make yourself look beautiful tonight, Isetnofret. You deserve it; you have made me look so beautiful, after all. It's the least I can do.”

 

Isetnofret beamed at the praise, and took the kohl eagerly. “Thank you, Lady Isis! How generous of you!”

 

Isetnofret was around Mana's age, if not a year or two younger. She served many purposes around the palace, such as cooking, sewing, working in fields to collect grain and fruit, dancing to entertain guests and palace residents at festivals and banquets, and, ultimately, helping Isis with her make-up, hair and clothing. That was the job she loved the most. Even though she did not get to interact with Isis much, she had always looked up to her, thought of her as a mother. She had no mother; she was an orphan before Priest Karim - holder of the Sennen Scales - had found her while fishing one blazing hot afternoon with his father. She was wrapped in linen inside a reed basket, floating amongst papyrus and lotuses. No other people were around, and though he was still a young boy, Karim knew that the young girl-child would die without a mother, so he and his father took her in.

 

Isetnofret always secretly hoped that Karim would win over Isis' heart. In her gifted brown eyes, they seemed a perfect couple. Isis was only a couple of years younger than Karim, but they seemed to get along well, and Karim had a heart of gold. The young girl ached to see them together, in love, but knew deep down that it wouldn't happen. She kept her chin up, though, and knew that Karim loved her, just as Isis did, and that was enough to make her happy. It sure beat living a life on the streets, that was for sure. The young girl smiled gratefully at the older woman, and skipped through the leopard skin drapes out of sight.

 

**~***~**

 

Isis looked into the pool of still water outside, the sun setting in the west being her only source of light. She never got an accurate picture in her mind of what she really looked like, other than the comments people had given her. She knew her eyes were a rare blue - the same as Seth's - and that her hair was black, her skin dark, teeth straight and white, nose straight and small, lips full. Men and women alike envied her beauty, desired it, but she was genuine about it, rather than egotistical - like Seth. Everybody knew he was the most longed-after priest of all Egypt - he was almost as renowned as the Pharaoh himself - and he knew it.

 

Tonight's banquet was significant to Isis and the other priests in particular. It was three years ago now that Isis had had her ceremony celebrating the end of her stressful training to be a priestess. She had begun her training at age seventeen, around the same time as the other priests. The royal society never thought a woman could be so capable of enduring the special training system, as female priests were rare. But alas, Isis conquered all, and showed them up. She was crowned and rewarded the Sennen Tauk with a reference of utmost excellence under her name. She was no longer just Isis Ishtar - she was Priestess Isis Ishtar of Upper and Lower Egypt under the reign of Pharaoh Atemu.

 

As Isis neared the entrance hall where the other priests were standing, she could hear the sounds of excited murmurs becoming louder as more guests arrived. Some of the people she recognised from past banquets. There was the vizier* of Al-Iksandriyah* and his wife; the vizier of Aswan, his wife and their twin daughters, and a very old, wise shaman from Thebes who was regarded very highly of Atemu's father in the past. Isis noted the odd looks from some of the noblewomen that were directed at her, and she knew exactly what it was.

 

Isis did not wear a wig. Although it was highly disrespectful for any priest to not pluck, tweeze, wax or shave their bodily hair, Isis absolutely refused to let go her lustrous black locks. Before she became a priestess, her hair was one of her most prized possessions. It made her feel beautiful, and she could not bear the thought of parting with it. Seth also refused to shave his head. He had the authority to do as he pleased, though, just as Atemu did, and so nobody dared utter a word about it. The other priests, however, chose to do so, believing that it was purer and more respectful toward the Gods.

 

The young priestess snapped out of her reverie as Priest Mahado came up to her with Mana at his side. Mana had been dressed in traditional Egyptian clothing, and an electric shiver ran down underneath Isis' skin. The clothing she was wearing was worn when a woman was going to be announced betrothed to the man she loved. Isis remembered - before Malik was born, when she was still a very young child - her mother showing Isis her matrimonial outfit that she wore when she was married. Isis swallowed a tingle of surprise and managed a smile. They both looked lovely, and everyone knew that their friendship had developed into a steamy passion. Mana was at prime age to wed, and it seemed Mahado could not help himself.

 

“You both look dazzling,” Isis complimented, making the couple smile.

 

“As do you, Isis.” Mahado replied, saving the formalities of names.

 

Isis looked down at her fine transparent linen tunic, baring the most part of her full womanly breasts, her hard brown nipples showing through. Strapped around her feet were her favourite pair of reed sandals, and around her neck and shoulders was a large beaded wesekh*, inlaid with carnelian and lapis lazuli. She wore her traditional headdress with the sculpted gold falcon on the top of it, as well as a gold arm band in the form of a snake wrapped around her arm. She had no need for a cone of perfumed fat* to sit upon her head; those were for the women guests. Besides, she had already coated her body in perfumed oil, and Isetnofret had fetched some lotus flowers from the riverbed to place behind her ears in her hair. She smelt and looked like the divine goddess Isis herself.

 

The other priests gathered around, and Seth was last to arrive, with Kisara on his arm. Isis almost gasped at how stunning she looked, and felt a tingling, throbbing sensation deep inside. Kisara's maid had braided her hair straight back into many sections on her head, letting them dangle down to her waist. Her makeup was traditionally Egyptian, as was her clothing. Seth looked just as handsome, and though she hated to admit it, Isis thought they looked a good couple. But Kisara was hers, not Seth's. Soon they would be together. Soon they would leave this place.

 

**~***~**

 

Isis smiled, watching Isetnofret bend and flex and twirl her body to the rhythm of the music, played by professional musicians that Atemu had hired for the night. It was true that she made for a fine dancer, with a lean, toned, dark brown body and full, ripe breasts, and she was at a fine age to wed. Isis could see the noblemen and their sons around the room watching her and the other dancers with keen eyes. No doubt she would get young men trying to impress her with talk of the land they owned, or the animals they had, or the grain or fruit that they harvested. With a beautiful young girl like her, it was inevitable that she would find somebody by the end of the night, or if not, at the next banquet.

 

Atemu seemed pleased with the progress of the night. His priests and servants had polished up nicely, as they did on every special occasion, and he felt smug that he had hired some very amusing entertainers. His dancing girls were phenomenal in their practice; their moves flowing together in time with the music and all in sync. The musicians and singers had wonderful instruments and voices to suit the mood of the night, and the quiet chatter soon became louder and rowdier with the more wine and beer that was consumed.

 

The night progressed into the small hours, and Isis was feeling tired and giddy from the wine she had been drinking. The entertainers had left a while ago, and only a few guests remained. A few of the viziers that had traveled from the far parts of Egypt were staying overnight at the palace, before heading off on their journey up or down the Nile back to wherever they came from, in the morning. Seth and Atemu - even Akunadin and a couple of the other priests - were drunk silly, and were finding it hard to stand straight, let alone walk or talk properly. Isis watched Kisara help Seth to their living quarters, and decided to turn in for the night too.

 

Groping in the dark, Isis found a match, struck it against the wall, and lit her bedside oil lamp. She removed her headdress and outer clothing, leaving on only a linen loincloth and band of material that covered only her breasts, which tied up at the front. Perching herself on a low stone stool, Isis began removing her makeup with a matted wool pad dipped in sterile alcohol. A cool midnight breeze made her zebra skin drapes flap about, but she heard something that could not have been from the breeze, and knew she wasn't alone in the room. Isis gasped lowly as she felt Kisara's smooth hands cover her eyes from behind, her firm breasts pressed against the nape of her neck.

 

“Kisara…” Isis whispered, standing up and turning around.

 

“Sshh,” Kisara said. “I can not stay long… Seth will wake before long and come looking.”

 

Isis frowned in puzzlement. “Why did you come, then?”

 

“Because I got no chance to say how beautiful you looked tonight.” She replied in her throaty, unfamiliar accent.

 

Isis felt her cheeks heat. “Thank you, Kisara. You also looked…amazing.” She struggled to finish her sentence properly without appearing misrepresented, but she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Kisara's rose-pink nipples as the breeze blew her tunic open for a brief moment.

 

Without a second thought, Isis stepped forward and tilted her head upward, giving into her weakness for Kisara's touch. They wound their arms around each other's bodies, enveloping into a tight, heated embrace, and kissed with unbridled zeal. Ever since Kisara had come to the palace, Isis couldn't help but feel magnetized to her, and that was why she was so scared of looking into her Tauk. Fighting the inevitable was fruitless, but Isis knew that her occupation and even her life could be at stake if she dared go against Seth and try to take what was his… or what he thought was his.

 

Isis pulled back from the kiss, feeling a throbbing wetness between her legs and a pair of eyes as deep and dark as sapphires staring back at her, clouded with lust. She had never felt this way before about anyone, and never thought she could. Kisara had roused feelings deep inside her to the surface, and she was afraid now that she wouldn't be able to keep them under control. She wanted Kisara, needed her, indulged in her. She wanted to get out, escape with her, and at last, start the quest for finding her brother.

 

“I have to go,” Kisara said as she stroked Isis' silken black hair out of her eyes.

 

Isis nodded, wishing she didn't have to leave so soon. “I know… I will see you in the morning, Kisara.”

 

Kisara kissed Isis' plump wet lips once more. “Good night, my beautiful Isis.” Kisara said in her native language before departing the room, leaving Isis shivering with delight, lust, and confusion.

 

Perplexed, Isis combed her hair with a polished elephant ivory teasel and settled into bed. Sleep didn't come easy for her, though, no matter how late or early it was, depending on how she looked at it. When sleep finally did come, it was near dawn, and demoralizing dreams haunted her unconscious mind…

 

Isis woke with a start, the sheets pulled back and the space next to her deserted. Kisara came into the shelter looking frightened and ill, and paler than she usually was. Isis sat up, shocked, and went over to her beautiful woman. The run was rising quickly, and she knew that they had to keep going… wherever it was they were going.

 

A loud whinny of a horse was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves upon the desert sand. Now was not the time to be questioned - Isis and Kisara were prime suspects to criminals, being women, alone together, traveling to an unknown destination. Isis sent a silent thought to the gods watching over her and prayed that nobody would think of them as distrustful.

 

A large herd of Arabian horses galloped over the sand dunes from them, and disappeared, and Isis swore she saw two men on the backs of two horses following them. She stared in awe as the figures on horseback chased the herd away into the vast expanse of relentless desert. She wondered why two men would be doing such a thing. Lost in her own reverie, Isis jolted back to reality when she heard a scream, and a giant wall of water came thundering mercilessly toward them…

 

“Oh!” Isis shrieked, sitting upright in her bed, one hand over her chest. Her breathing came in hard and fast, and the deafening sound of the skies opening up was heard from outside. Dull rumbles of ominous background thunder was barely heard over the intense velocity of the rain coming down on the roof. Isis sighed and collapsed in a sweat back onto her pillows, feeling shaky and slick with a cold sweat.

 

The young priestess wrapped her covers over her quaking form tightly, desperately trying to figure out what the strange dream had tried to tell her. The only part she understood was the wall of water rushing toward them. It signified the coming of the wet season, which had, strangely enough, arrived the morning after the banquet celebrating it. It was unusual, but it was considered to bring good fortune when it did happen. Isis sighed, closed her eyes, and lay hunched up in her bed until daylight finally broke through the clouds.

 

**~***~**

 

* = Cone of perfumed fat: This was a gift given by servants to women invited to banquets. The cones of fat eventually melted and were absorbed into the skin to make the woman smell nice.

*= Wesekh: A big beaded necklace that covers the shoulders and the most part of the chest.
*= Vizier: Like a prime minister, or a mayor.
*= Al-Iksandriyah: Egyptian spelling of modern-day “Alexandria”
* = Isetnofret: An ancient Egyptian name meaning “Isis is beautiful”