Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Turn Away ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

SUMMARY: Part of my Ryou/Bakura series… takes place mostly in the past, so I guess it's a prequel to "Silent Fortress". Then again, it COULD be a sequel to "Where Evil Grows". *evil grin* Take it however you want it. ;)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. I do, however, own a Dark Magician toy. And a Malik toy. That's about it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Inspired by the Billy Joel song, "An Innocent Man". Many, many thanks to both my beta readers, and Silver/Pachelbel (my grammar coach) and Masaki Uke (who helped with many of the Egyptian aspects of this story, including the name "Set-khuh".) Thank you both so much! Apparently, both Kaiba and Bakura had their own names back in Egypt, but I've chosen to give them Egyptian names. So yeah, this fic would be AU.

/blah/ is Yami Bakura talking to Ryou. //blah// is Ryou talking to Yami Bakura. "Nakhti" means "strong" in Egyptian and "Set-khuh" means "blessed by Seth".

DEDICATION: Kris, as always.

***********

Turn Away

//Bakura?//

/What?/

//Can I ask you a question?//

/You just did./

//Well, another one, then.//

/What?/

Short pause before, //Why do you hate Seto and Yami so much?//

Long pause before there came the soft feeling of a mental sigh. /Do you really want to know, yadonushi?/

//Yes. Tell me. Please.//

/What's the modern expression? "You asked for it..."/

****

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"No, I'm not," came the sour response as the boy pulled a lock of hair out of his partner's fingers. "I'm not beautiful."

"Even though you're a man, you're still beautiful. I love looking at you."

There came the sound of a cough that just barely disguised the word "woman" in it.

Indignant surprise. "That was rude. I am most assuredly NOT a woman. Although **you** would know best, considering last night."

The white-haired boy smiled, climbing out of the bed the two were currently sharing. "And then again this morning?" he teased gently. "But it's true. Only a woman would call someone else beautiful."

"Is that any way to speak to your Pharaoh, little Nakhti?"

"No, it's the way I speak to my lover." Nakhti glanced up at the Pharaoh -Yami- as he pulled on his linen kilt. "And said lover will be very late for his meeting with the council if he does not get up immediately."

Yami rolled over to look out the window, noting Ra's position in the sky and realized that his lover was right. Cursing fluently in three languages, he scrambled out of bed and into his ornate robes. Nakhti watched in silent amusement as Yami threw open the door and almost ran out into the hallway, which was thankfully empty of servants at this hour of the morning. Only his personal guard awaited him, dutifully ignoring the Pharaoh and his lover re-enact the routine which happened nearly every morning.

"Nakhti?" he called, turning to watch his white-haired love approach at a much more demure pace. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Nakhti half-whispered as he watched his lover disappear around the corner with his guards in tow. Sighing, Nakhti turned and walked the opposite direction.

Back to the slave quarters.

****

"He loves me," Nakhti reminded himself later as he worked beside the other palace slaves in the throne room, now empty of all save the small group assigned to clean the room daily. "The Pharaoh! He loves me."

"What are you muttering about?" came the question from another slave. An older slave stood before him, one who wasn't overly fond of Nakhti to begin with. "You know talking will get us beaten!"

"Sorry," he hissed back. "Thinking out loud."

"Well, don't think then. Whatever you're thinking about isn't worth getting everyone else into trouble over. You've heard about Pharaoh's temper!"

"I have," Nakhti acknowledged, fighting down a smirk. Oh, yes, he knew Pharaoh's temper. "I apologize and I promise to think quieter."

"Please do. Just last week, one of the kitchen slaves was beaten for daring to speak in Pharaoh's presence! I won't have all of us punished just because of one idiot." With that, the other slave turned his back on Nakhti and took up the scrap of wet linen he'd been washing the floor with. Nakhti sighed and stole a glance at Pharaoh's golden throne-the only thing in the room the slaves weren't allowed to touch. Smiling secretly to himself, he picked up his own cloth.

Despite what the other slave said, some things were worth thinking about.

****

"You're late." Yami's voice was only half-teasing. "I summoned you long ago."

"Some of us have to work," Nakhti replied, a bit bitterly. "Not all of us can be Pharaoh and sit on a golden chair all day and have *slaves* bring us everything we need!"

The other blinked in surprise. "Do you really think that's all it takes to be a Pharaoh? To sit on a chair all day?" He snorted. "You have no idea what it's like to live my life."

"And you have no idea what it's like to live mine," Nakhti shot back, anger rising. "You've never had to be a slave, Yami. You've never been beaten, starved, treated like something less than a camel. You've always been the favored golden child, the only son of the former Pharaoh. You've never known-"

Yami shook his head, golden bangs bouncing. "Maybe I've never been a slave, my love, but I know-"

"You know NOTHING!" Nakhti's voice echoed off the walls and Yami took a step back in surprise, never having seen his lover this upset. "Do you have any idea, Yami, what it's like to lie just to save your own skin so you wouldn't beaten within an inch of your life? Ever been on your knees, hearing the abuse hurled at you and you *take* it because you have to and you'll be sold, or worse, if you talk back to your MASTER."

Yami flinched at the word spit so hatefully at him. "Nakhti-"

"You've never been owned like a common animal, Yami, so don't pretend to know what it's like!"

"Maybe I don't know what it's like to be a slave, but I do know what it's like to have to hide the truth. And I know what it is like to be forced to do anther's bidding." Yami kept his voice gentle. "Do you think I like having to hide you? To look at you when we're outside of this room and pretend I feel nothing for you? To not be able to touch you when I want? To have to pretend to be interested in the women my council parades before me as they beg me to take a wife?"

Nakhti sighed and ran a hand through his white hair, his anger disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Yami sat down on the bed, watching his lover carefully. "I hate it as much as you do, love. I don't want a wife, Nakhti. I just want you. And I hate not being able to scream that from the top of the palace. Believe me, I hate it. And I hate that you're a slave even more. You know that were it in my power, I would free you."

Nakhti turned to look out the window of the chamber he and Yami shared, even if it was only at night. "I know."

"Your father-"

"I KNOW, Yami. I, too, remember why I am what I am."

Yami finally sighed. "Come here." Wordlessly, Nakhti obeyed and allowed himself to be wrapped in a hug. "I wish things could be different."

Settling his head on Yami's shoulder, Nakhti watched the evening shadows play on the wall as Ra began his nightly travel though the underworld. "So do I."

****

"Nakhti." Gentle kisses along his collarbone drew him out of sleep. "I need to get up."

"No."

Soft laughter. "Yes, my love. I have a meeting with the High Priest this morning and I don't think he'd understand if I tried to tell him that my lover wouldn't let me out of bed."

One brown eye opened as his arms tightened around Yami's waist. "But you don't LIKE the High Priest. So why do you care what he thinks?"

"I know, but he has many allies in the palace who may...try to hurt those I love." Yami's crimson eyes were troubled. "I don't want that."

Nakhti sighed and released his hold on Yami. "I can take care of myself."

Yami gave his white-haired lover a smile as both climbed out of the bed. "But I like taking care of you."

"And you call ME a woman." Nakhti threw Yami's clothes at him, laughing as Yami made a big show of getting dressed.

"I may require your services later." Yami reached for his heavy gold torc and set it around his neck with a little bit of help from Nakhti. "A delegation of Mitanni are coming to sue for peace and I'm not sure if they speak our tongue. It's on days like this that I thank Ra for the fact you learned it as a child!"

"You know where to find me if you need me." Nakhti gave Yami a kiss and pushed him towards the door. "Now go, before you're late and annoy His Pompousness."

Yami laughed and allowed himself to be pushed. "I love you."

"And I you. Now go!"

****

Nakhti waited all day for the summons, but none came. And when Ra completed his journey across the sky and sank into the underworld, he climbed into his hard bed, quartered with the other slaves. He missed Pharaoh's bed already and it had only been one night.

****

Morning came much earlier in the slave quarters than it did in Pharaoh's chamber. Rudely, Nakhti was awakened by one of the older slaves and given a list of chores. Stretching out sore muscles he'd forgotten he *had*, he wordlessly set about his tasks.

He was in the process of carrying a perfumed candle to the chamber of one of the minor palace priests when he ran into a hard body, knocking him onto his back. Glancing at the sandals the person wore, he flinched and quickly made his obedience. Those particular gold sandals belonged to only one person.

Set-khuh, the High Priest of Egypt.

"So you're Pharaoh's favourite slave," came the cold voice from above him. "What he sees in you, I don't know. You're just a little thing."

"My lord?"

"Come now, I'm sure you've heard the palace talk. Everyone knows why Pharaoh summons you for `special chores'. I never knew a slave's chores included warming his master's bed every night."

"Not every night," Nakhti said bitterly, then cringed. To talk back to the High Priest was an offence worthy of a good flogging.

"No, he didn't summon you last night, did he?" The smirk in Set-khuh's voice was unmistakable. "Poor little forgotten slave. But I suppose even Pharaoh gets tired of the same thing all the time."

Nakhti forced his gaze to the floor, desperately wanting to ask Set-khuh exactly what he meant by *that* remark when he felt a hand settle on his head, taking a lock of hair and twisting it through strong fingers.

"Such an unusual colour.... Shame Pharaoh got to you first." Then the High Priest was gone, leaving Nakhti alone in the hallway. Shrugging, he picked up the discarded candle and resumed his task.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, a seed of doubt settled.

****

The summons came late that night, long after Nakhti had already collapsed into his bed, exhausted beyond belief. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled after Pharaoh's guard until they arrived at Yami's chambers. Pushing open the door, he found Yami already waiting for him.

"Come," Yami beckoned. "Sit with me." Yawning, Nakhti obeyed, taking a seat at Yami's feet instinctively. The other boy sighed softly before taking a lock of Nakhti's hair in his fingers and playing with it, a strangely familiar gesture. "How was your day?"

"Tiring." He leaned his head back against Yami's knees. "I just might fall asleep here if you keep that up."

"Come to bed, then." Yami drew Nakhti to his feet and gently guided him over to the bed. Once the other boy was settled, Yami climbed in beside him and threw his arm over Nakhti's waist. "Sleep...I'll be here in the morning."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

But when Ra's rays woke Nakhti the next morning, he was alone.

****

No summons came for nearly a week and Nakhti began to get used to the feeling of waking up in his own cold bed. Silently, he went about his work, trying not to think about the High Priest's words. Yami wasn't tired of him...was he? Yami would have said something if he were getting tired of him.

The doubt planted by Set-khuh's words only grew with each passing day of silence.

****

"Slave." A palace guard stood before him, glaring. "Pharaoh summons you." Nakhti just barely managed to bite back a nasty remark, remembering his place just in time. To back talk Pharaoh's guard was an offence worthy of a severe beating and a stay in the dungeons. Silently, he followed the man down the hall, just has he had that night over a week ago.

This time when he walked into Pharaoh's chambers, however, something was different. Yami stood beside his bed, just as before, but there was something different about his demeanor. Something almost guilty in the way he looked at his white-haired lover. But Nakhti was really too tired to think about it much.

"I've missed you," Yami purred, drawing the other boy into his arms. "Have you missed me?"

"Bed's cold."

"So you only want me as a bed warmer? I'm glad I'm loved!"

Then Yami kissed him and Nakhti forgot his doubts. He *kissed* like nothing had changed, so maybe it was just his imagination. And when Yami gently tugged the other boy over to the bed, Nakhti forgot everything, even his own name.

He'd missed this.

****

When morning dawned, Yami was still beside him, asleep. Nakhti rolled over in order to better study his lover. In sleep, Yami's face was open and almost innocent, a trait he'd learned to hide long ago. But his innocence was one of the things Nakhti loved best about him. He was Pharaoh, but there were still many things he did not know. Slowly, the white-haired boy was teaching him some of them.

"Good morning," Yami said quietly, watching the play of emotions over the other's face.

"Oh, you're awake. Good morning."

"I don't want to get up...I'm too comfortable with you. Go tell my council I crawled under the throne." Yami buried his face in the blankets. "I've been told I'm short enough."

"I'd like to see you do that, actually."

"Do you think my Vizier would notice if I didn't show up today?"

Nakhti laughed. "Probably. You're not easily missed. And I've heard the man's title should be Viper and not Vizier."

Yami grinned. "Is that what they call him?"

"Among other things."

"I should spend more time away from the throne room...the things I miss being stuck in there all day!" Yami smiled at Nakhti before turning serious again. "You know that I meant what I said last night-I've missed you."

"And I you," Nakhti said honestly. "I thought...."

"You thought what?"

"That you were tired of me."

Yami sat straight up in bed, looking down at Nakhti in shock. "Tired of you? By Ra, no! Where in Osiris' name did you get that idea?"

Nakhti found the pattern laid into the floor very interesting. "Just a rumor."

"I'm not tired of you, beloved," Yami said, red eyes flashing with anger. "Whoever told you that is lying and I don't take well to people lying to those I love. Who told you?"

"Nobody important."

"Nakhti."

"It's just something I heard whispered through the slave quarters," the white-haired boy lied. The fury only grew in Yami's eyes and Nakhti was suddenly very frightened. He'd heard of Pharaoh's legendary temper, but he'd never seen it in full force. "Yami, please! You can't punish all of the slaves for gossiping!"

"Oh, yes, I can." Yami's eyes flashed. "Watch me."

"But I'm one of them." Nakhti sat back down on the bed beside his lover and put one hand on the tanned arm. "And if you punish them, you have to punish me. I'm a slave, too."

"I know." Yami's voice was strained and when he opened his eyes again, sadness lurked in their depths. "You won't tell me a name?"

Nakhti shook his head, rising from the bed.

"Fine...I'll let it go. I wish you would tell me."

"It's nothing, Yami. Like you said, just a rumor. No truth to it at all."

"If you're sure."

"I am." Nakhti smiled just as a knock came on the door. Yami groaned and tried to bury himself further into the blankets, but Nakhti just pulled the linens off the bed and threw them on the floor. "Go. Your council is waiting."

Yami finally got up and dressed silently. When he was done, he looked at his lover. "Will you be alright today?"

"I'm fine."

Yami came over and kissed him gently. "I love you. Never doubt that."

"I love you, too."

Then Yami was gone and one of Pharaoh's most trusted guards poked his head in the room. Nakhti nodded, signaling his understanding that it was time to return to his place with the other slaves.

"So Pharaoh invited his pretty toy back into his bed?" the High Priest's voice hissed from a hallway near Pharaoh's chamber. Nakhti started, wishing that the guard had accompanied him beyond the first hallway this day. But the upcoming visit from a neighboring country's war delegation had the council worried and all available guards were being posted around the throne room.

"My Lord." Nakhti quickly dropped to his knees.

"You know he only does it because he feels he owes you something. Imagine that-the Pharaoh of Egypt owing a SLAVE something."

"As you say, my Lord."

"Pharaoh can have anyone, man or woman, that he wants, little slave. So why would he continue to bed *only* you when he can find someone much more worthy?"

Nakhti forced his gaze to remain on the floor, not wanting Set-khuh to see the pain that had sprung into his eyes.

"You're nothing to him-just a pretty thing he can play with when he gets bored with everything else. And now he is bored with you."

Nakhti bit back the tears he could feel welling up as he heard a note of truth in the High Priest's words. He would not allow the man the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"Get out my sight, you disgusting little vermin," Set-khuh snarled, gesturing violently. "Go back to your place with the other slaves!"

"Yes, my Lord." Nakhti bowed his head submissively as the High Priest stalked away. When Pharaoh's guard found him a few minutes later, his face was calm even as his mind replayed each one of Set-khuh's words back to him.

The doubt in Nakhti's mind grew ever larger.

****

Yami summoned Nakhti each night that week, although the white-haired boy found himself used more as a pillow than anything else. Yami just didn't seem interested in anything beyond simple cuddling and chaste kisses.

"Yami?" Nakhti ventured one morning just as his lover was about to disappear for the day.

"Yes?"

"Do you love me?"

Yami turned to face the other. "Of course I do! Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Nakhti lowered his gaze to his lap. "Just needed to hear the words, I guess."

"You'll be here tonight?"

Nakhti nodded. "If you want."

I do." Yami leaned over and gave his lover a soft kiss. "I love you." Then he was gone. Nakhti allowed the Pharaoh's words to resound through his mind, even as his heart didn't believe them. Yami's voice didn't hold the same note of truth it used to when he spoke those three simple words. He felt the tears begin to well, again, but, again, he fought them back.

He was a man, long since grown out of childhood, and men didn't cry. No matter what.

****

Nakhti waited to be dismissed from his duties that night, eager to get to Yami's rooms to see his lover. After thinking about it for most of the day, he'd decided that he was simply over-reacting, allowing Set-khuh's words to poison his mind. Yami loved him - he'd said so that very morning before leaving. And Yami wouldn't lie to him. Finally, he was allowed to leave and he made his way through the maze of corridors to the wing of the palace set aside for Pharaoh's personal use. He was stopped by the guards only once before he was allowed on his way.

Yami's door was closed when he arrived, so he knocked. Hearing a soft noise in response, Nakhti opened the door.

And felt his heart shatter.

"I'm not seeing this. I'm not seeing this...." the words repeated like a mantra in his head. "Just turn away and it won't be real. It can't be real. Turn away. Turn away. Turn away!"

Closing his eyes, he turned his back on the scene and tried to block the image out of his head. His Pharaoh, his YAMI, in bed with the High Priest of Egypt, a man he was sworn to hate. Obviously, that hatred didn't extend to the royal bedchamber.

"He wouldn't do this to me. He told me this morning that he loves me."

What do words really mean? Came a voice from the back of his mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like the High Priest himself. How easy is it to say the words, but not mean them?

"He loves me. I know he does. He told me so. I'm not seeing it anymore, so it's not real. Yami invited me to his chambers tonight. He loves me. He wouldn't do this. He...he loves me."

Keep deluding yourself, little slave... A Pharaoh says a lot of things, none of which he means. Are you so sure he loves you the way he says he does? How do you know he wasn't -lying-? How could a powerful Pharaoh like him EVER love a little weakling like you? You're just a slave - nothing of any value. You're his property, nothing else. And property is easily discarded.

Sliding down the wall in the corridor outside Yami's rooms, Nakhti finally succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to fall.

"No..."

/End part 1