The Path of Vengeance

A/N: First off I would like to apologize for the lateness of this post. This chapter was very hard for me to write for reasons that really shouldn't be explained in an author's note. Thank you for being so patient.

There are a few things I need to say about this chapter before you read it so please bear with me. As much as I poked around online I could not find a confirmed name for Thief King Bakura in Ancient Egypt. I have opted just to call him "Bakura". Also a lot of the circumstances in Atemu and Bakura's past are NOT cannon. I am not writing this to submit as a show idea (gods, can you imagine the laughs I'd get?) so I tweaked the past a bit.


Chapter 27


Yugi jumped about a foot to see Yami standing in the doorway of his room. He hadn’t heard his dark knocking over the passionate screaming of Trent Reznor through his headphones. The CD had fallen from the small bag of personal articles that Malik had left in his room upon his hasty departure when Yugi had been cleaning up after Ryou left for the airport.

He slid the headphones off and addressed the pharaoh. “What?”

“May I come in?”

The small duelist shrugged. “I guess.” He closed CD booklet and set it on the nightstand.

Yami made his way over to the bed and sat at his light’s feet. “Can I ask you a question?”

Yugi eyed him skeptically. “Sure.”

“Do you hate me now?”

“What kind of question is that?” Yugi asked, looking away.

“One I want an answer to,” the spirit pressed.

Yugi was quiet for a long moment, carefully thinking over the question before forming a response. “I don’t hate you,” he said eventually. “But I’ve never been angrier at you than I am now.”

Yami nodded. “That’s fair,” he replied. “And now you.”

The teen looked up. “Me what?”

“What do you want to know?”

Another pause. “Really?” Yami nodded solemnly. “What did you do to Bakura to make him do this?”

The spirit closed his eyes, trying to gather both his thoughts and his courage. “Yugi what I am about to tell you will likely change your opinion of me more than anything ever could. But I beg of you, please try to remember that I was a completely different person back then. It was a very different time and things that are now considered to be cruel or inhumane were commonplace.”

Yugi couldn’t comment. He couldn’t tell Yami that he would think no less of him. He’d been on the receiving end of Bakura’s revenge and as such knew just how deep the thief’s outrage ran. “Just tell me, Yami. Please.”

The former pharaoh took a deep breath, preparing himself for the agony of losing everything he’d managed to gain back. Finally he spoke. “Bakura and I were not always enemies. There was a time when he called me ‘friend’.”

Yugi blinked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Yami affirmed. “It was a long time ago…”


~Flashback~

“I started running and barely made it to my horse before Mahomet claimed my head as a trophy.”

The young prince Atemu walked in time with the thief Bakura, his eyes wide as he listened with rapt fascination. “Then what happened?”

“I rode as hard as I dared. There was no way that old guard could keep up.”

Atemu laughed. “That makes seven times that you have made him look a fool. Mahomet must be furious.”

“I have to eat,” Bakura said simply.

The prince sighed. “I really wish you would accept some gold from me,” he said for what had to have been the seven hundredth time in the past two years.

“Atemu, if I accept your help I’ll get lazy. If I get lazy I get caught.”

Atemu shook his head sadly. “You should not have to make your living this way.”

“Maybe not,” Bakura replied. “But it is who I am.”

“I know it is,” Atemu acknowledged. Truth be known, he was in awe of his white haired companion. Bakura lived a life of spontaneity much different from his own life of strict rules and codes. Perhaps that was the reason he’d fallen madly in love with him.

He wasn’t sure when the feeling had taken root, only that they had sprouted and grown so much that they had overtaken his every waking moment. In the interest of preserving their friendship however he’d opted to keep his feelings to himself. For as long as possible anyway. He had a year under his belt so far. In fact, the only other person who knew was Bakura’s younger brother, Ammon. And even that had been an accident.

The thief regarded his friend critically. “You okay?”

Atemu looked up questionably. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just keep staring at me.”

The prince shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he lied.

Bakura shrugged. “Alright.” He paused, gauging the time by the shadow coming off of a bazaar canopy. “You’d better get back to the palace,” he said. “It’s getting late.”

Atemu nodded. “See you.”

The thief nodded, smiling as he took a step back and pocketed a shiny red apple from the fruit vendor. He offered his friend a wink. “See you.”


Over a week had passed since their last meeting and Atemu was growing impatient. Usually he made it a point to see Bakura at least every other day but circumstances, it seemed, were against him. His father had kept him by his side in the Royal Chamber the first two days as part of his studies. Then he’d gone to see Bakura the next day only to find that his friend had left on another treasure-run and was due back in three days time. The three days had passed with no sign of the thief.

Hours were spent pacing the vast length of his chamber as he waited to hear from his friend. Every time Bakura went on one of these runs he worried that he would be captured. Bakura had always made fun of his fears but that didn’t make them any less real.

At some point during his worry he came to a decision. He was going to tell Bakura how he felt. It was killing him to keep it inside. He couldn’t deny himself the chance to experience something beyond what the palace had to offer him. Sure he’d experienced the pleasures of the flesh, hell, he had his own harem, but never had he lain with a man. He wanted his first time to be with Bakura.

The sun had just set in the sky when Atemu looked out his window. He couldn’t wait any longer. He would return to Kuru Eruna and seek out Bakura’s brother. If anyone would know exactly where Bakura had gone it would be him. Ammon was really the only person Bakura ever bothered to care about aside from Atemu.

He dressed in clothes befitting a commoner, complete with a hood to hide his telltale hair, and removed all of his gold, tucking it safely beneath his mattress. Bakura had warned him against wearing it without the protection of the palace guards.

After first listening intently at the door for any sign of movement on the other side he slipped carefully out the window into the hedges below. Over a year of experience guided him unnoticed into the stables where he claimed his horse and snuck off the palace grounds.

He rode swiftly through the desert on a route he knew by heart, determination hastening his journey. A trip that took nearly twenty minutes normally was made in ten. He dismounted outside of Ammon’s home and knocked loudly on the door. It was answered right away.

“Prince Atemu,” Ammon said with a respectful bow. He was two years younger than Bakura and had the same unruly albino spikes.

“Hello, Ammon. Has there been any word from Bakura?”

The young man nodded. “He rode in late this afternoon. I’d imagine he’s out at the oasis.”

‘Out at the oasis’ was home to the thief. A smile of relief made its way across Atemu’s features. “Thank Ra,” he breathed. “He really had me worried this time.”

Ammon smiled. “He has a habit of doing that.”

The prince nodded. “I’m going to go see him before I go back to the palace for the night. Thank you, Ammon.” He turned and vaulted onto his horse.

Ammon watched Atemu ride away, a sadness settling over his features. He hadn’t had the heart to reveal Bakura’s news. The young prince would find out soon enough.


Atemu’s hands were shaking with both anticipation and anger. Anger at Bakura for having made him worry and anticipation over what he was about to reveal. Nearly thirty minutes later he was able to see the small fire burning in the distance. Bakura must have gotten back late to risk the artificial light.

He dismounted approximately one hundred yards from the oasis and continued on foot. His horse would remain until he returned for it. Once close enough to be within earshot he began speaking, alerting Bakura to his presence early to avoid tasting the sharpened edge of the thief’s blade.

“Bakura? Hey, Bakura!”

The figure crouched in front of the fire stood up. “Atemu? What are you doing here so late?” He began walking toward his friend.

Atemu smiled at the worry in the other’s voice. “Ammon told me you were back. What took you so long? I was worried.”

Bakura slung an arm over the future pharaoh’s shoulders and led him back to the fire. “Have I got news for you.”

Atemu smiled. Bakura always shared with him stories of his exploits. “What is it this time? No wait, let me guess. You were caught but managed to escape from the prison?”

Bakura laughed. “Caught? It’ll never happen.”

“What then?” Atemu chuckled.

“I was in the bazaar pretending to haggle over the prices of some pottery when I noticed that someone was trying to pickpocket me.”

Atemu’s eyes widened. “Dear Ra…what did you do?”

“I caught him by the wrist and dragged him behind one of the buildings. I was reaching for my dagger when he pulled the hood from his face. It was Rehan from Kuru Eruna!”

“Who?”

“He and I were close friends when we were younger. He left for parts unknown about six years ago. Trying to find glory and all.” He shook his head. “So anyway he started laughing at me, saying I’d gone soft, that I’d have noticed him the second he walked up to the vendor when he’d known me before. I shoved him, he shoved back, and before I knew what was happening he kissed me.”

“H-he what?”

Bakura nodded. “I know! I mean, we DID sleep together several times before he left...”

Atemu was floored. “What?”

The thief chuckled. “Let me tell you, Atemu, it was amazing. We spent the week in his hideout doing things that would put whores to shame. I didn’t realize just how deep my feelings for him were until he made the first move. He’s leaving his home and coming back to stay with me.”

“No,” Atemu whispered.

Bakura blinked. “What?”

“No,” the prince said more forcefully. “No!”

“Atemu, what’s the matter?” Bakura asked, concerned.

“What’s the matter?” he repeated. “I rode out here tonight to tell you that I’m in love with you, Bakura.”

The thief was visibly startled. “What?” he said again.

“I love you.”

Bakura took a moment to regain his composure. Sure he’d considered taking his friendship with the prince further but never had. More for Atemu’s sake than his own. “Atemu,” he said gently. “I love you too. But as a friend only. There could never be a future for us.”

“Why not?” Atemu shot back. He wasn’t used to not getting his way.

“Well, aside from the fact that Rehan and I have a relationship forming now you are going to be the pharaoh. You’ll be expected to take a wife and produce an heir.”

Atemu made a last ditch effort. “I’ll be pharaoh. I can do what I want.”

Bakura shook his head. “I’m sorry, Atemu. I can’t give you what you’re looking for. I’ve already committed to Rehan.”

“Leave him.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I love him, that’s why not.”

Atemu’s anger was growing rapidly. “What about me, Bakura? What about MY feelings?”

“I care a lot about you,” Bakura answered. “But that’s as far as this is going to go.”

“So you’ll just run to him then? Forget about me?”

The thief sighed. Atemu was acting like a spoiled child. “I have no plans to forget about you.”

“What if I offer you a place in the palace when I become pharaoh? Could we have a future then?”

Bakura stared openly at his guest, disgust written plainly on his face. “You can’t buy me, Atemu.”

“Yes I can.”

Now the thief was having a hard time keeping his own temper in check. “You should leave,” he said finally.

“Kiss me,” Atemu commanded.

Bakura shook his head as he got to his feet. “No.”

The prince stood up as well. “You’re turning me down?”

“I am, yes. I can’t give you what you want.”

Crimson eyes narrowed into angry slits. “You’ll be sorry,” he threatened.

Bakura kicked sand over the fire, effectively plunging them into darkness. He picked up his bedroll and bag of ill-gotten treasures. As he began to walk away he spoke again, just loud enough for the future pharaoh to hear. “I’m already sorry.”


Atemu stormed into the palace two hours later, his face red with anger and embarrassment. He had returned to Kuru Eruna and questioned Ammon, asking if the man knew of his brother’s lover. The affirmative reply had only served to further aggravate the future pharaoh’s anger. He’d ridden away in an unrelenting rage, heading for the palace as fast as his horse would carry him.

The guards outside of the Royal Chamber were visibly surprised to see the prince enter the palace, having not witnessed his exit. Atemu didn’t offer them an explanation, instead posing an order.

“Find Mahomet. Bring him here immediately.”

“Of course, Prince Atemu.” They scurried off.

Atemu, his hands clenched into fists, sat regally in his father’s throne. Even through his rage he could still feel the love he held for the white haired thief. He would stop at nothing to have Bakura as his lover. He just needed to be a little more…persuasive.

“You wished to see me, Prince Atemu?”

Atemu looked up to see the head guard standing at the entrance to the hall. “Yes, come forward, Mahomet.”

The man did as commanded, bowing respectfully. “How may I serve you, my prince?”

“There is a young man in Kuru Eruna that I would like you to bring to me at once. His name is Ammon.”

“I know of him.”

“He has wronged the Royal Family. Bring him in as such. And make it known that he is coming here under my order.”

Mahomet raised an eyebrow curiously but nodded. “It will be done right away, Atemu.”

The future pharaoh nodded, waving his hand dismissively. The guard bowed and backed out of the room. Atemu stood up and stretched. He was already starting to feel a bit better for having taken control of the situation.

A yawn escaped his lips and he left the hall, returning to his chamber and collapsing on the bed. He would need his strength for tomorrow.


The future pharaoh awoke with a ball of excitement pitted in his stomach. The sun rode high in the desert sky and he could feel the heat through the open window. He called to his personal servant and set about performing his morning ritual of bathing, dressing, and eating a light breakfast.

Mahomet was waiting for him outside his chamber. “Prince Atemu, your instructions were carried out as planned but for one slight problem.”

Atemu raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“It turns out that Ammon has a brother, a thief that I have been trying to capture for some time.”

“Is that right?” Atemu replied, forcing his expression to remain passive.

“Yes. His name is Bakura. He insisted on being taken with Ammon.”

“He is here now?”

Mahomet nodded. “He is in the dungeon with the other one.”

“Excellent,” Atemu said. “You shall be rewarded for your efforts, I assure you.” He brushed past the guard, striding through the palace and down below to the dungeons with purpose.

Before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness below a familiar voice met his ears.

“Atemu! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Let him go!”

The prince glanced briefly at the thief shackled to the stone wall but ignored his rage-filled words, instead approaching Ammon’s cell. It was easy to see that the young man had been crying. “Ammon.”

Blood shot dark green eyes looked up at him pitifully. “…Atemu? W-why have you brought me here? What have I done?”

“This isn’t about you,” Atemu said with false sympathy.

“Atemu!! Don’t fucking ignore me!”

Ammon could hear the violent undertones in his older brother’s voice. “I…I thought we were friends,” he said to the future pharaoh, his voice shaking with every word.

Atemu looked up and for the first time met Bakura’s eyes. “We are friends,” he said to Ammon, his voice just a little too friendly. “Guard. Bring him to my chambers.”

The dungeon guard stepped forward. “As you wish, Prince Atemu.” He unlocked the cell door and pulled Ammon out, cuffing him quickly. He bowed deeply before taking the young man up the dingy stairwell.

As soon as the heavy door locked shut the prince turned to his prisoner. Bakura glared at him so fiercely that it almost made him back down. “Hello Bakura.”

“What is this all about, Atemu?” the thief asked, desperately trying to reign in his temper.

“You know what I want,” Atemu replied.

Bakura shook his head. “I know what you told me last night. I don’t know what that has to do with Ammon.”

“That’s up to you,” Atemu replied. “If you give me what I want I’ll give you what you want.”

The thief narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you, Atemu.”

The future pharaoh blinked. “I’ll take that as a no. Let’s see if Ammon is easier to persuade.” He spun around and walked up the steps, turning his back on Bakura’s enraged howl. So intent was he on getting out of Bakura’s presence that he didn’t hear the faint *clink* as the master thief managed to pick the lock on his left wrist.


Atemu entered his chamber to find Ammon huddled in the corner, his wrists and ankles shackled together with a two foot chain between them. It was obvious that the young man was frightened and trying very hard not to show it.

“Atemu,” he said. “Why have you brought me here?”

The future pharaoh knelt down next to his prey. “I need your help, Ammon,” he said.

“My help? With what?”

“I love your brother. He loves me too, I know he does. But that man, Rehan, has convinced him otherwise. I need you to persuade him to be with me.”

Ammon looked at the prince as though he had grown another head. “You love Bakura? Then how can you do this to us?”

“I am doing this BECAUSE I love him.”

“But…he loves Rehan. He told me so himself.”

Atemu shook his head. “I don’t care what he told you, Ammon. You will convince him to give up stealing and take a position here in the palace so that he and I can be together in the eyes of the villages as well as our own.”

“Are you mad?” he asked. “Bakura would never give up his trade. And he isn’t going to leave Rehan just because you want him to. He loves you, Atemu, but as a little brother only.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that you will not help me?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Atemu nodded. He took a deep breath. Then he took a violent swing with his right fist and caught Ammon just below his left eye, knocking the youth against the wall he’d been cowering next to. “How about now?”

Ammon blinked rapidly, trying to regain his focus. “Atemu,” he whimpered. “Why?”

“All I am asking is that you help me,” the prince replied, his voice showing no emotion.

“I can’t, he-” He was cut off by a stinging slap to the rapidly forming bruise on his cheekbone.

“Don’t fight me, Ammon,” Atemu threatened. “I have all the power of the Pharaoh behind me.”

Figuring that he was in for a beating regardless, Ammon spat out the first thing that came to mind. “Even with all of that power you can’t make my brother love you.”

Bad idea. Atemu’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing angrily. “You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?” He stood up and moved to the south wall and pulled an engraved knife from a high shelf.

Fear gripped Ammon’s heart as the severity of his situation began to sink in. Atemu obviously meant business. “W-what are you going to do with that?” he asked.

Atemu pulled the blade from its sheath. “That depends on you,” he answered. “Are you going to help me?”

It was a quick and easy decision in the grand scheme of things. “No,” he whispered quietly.

The future pharaoh was outraged. “You dare to defy me?” he very nearly growled.

“You can’t force him to love you,” Ammon said, forcing a sympathetic tone to enter his voice. The laughter that came to his ears at the expense of his comment chilled his very bones. He shuffled further into the corner in a desperate gesture of self-preservation.

“I can do whatever I want. I am heir to the throne of Egypt. And you would do well to obey me.”

Ammon shook his head. “What you’re asking…it just isn’t within my power to make happen.”

Atemu smiled, a maniacal grin. “Oh but it is.”

The young man began to shake harder. “H-how?”

“You will kill Rehan the instant he arrives in Kuru Eruna.”

Ammon’s eyes widened. “I can’t kill anyone, Atemu.”

The prince pointed the knife at his prisoner. “It is either him or you. Would you give your life to protect this wretch?”

“Do you really think Bakura will run into your arms after you held him prisoner? Even if Rehan were to die my brother will never come near you again after this.”

Atemu sighed as though he were extremely bored. He mirrored Ammon’s kneeling position, speaking slowly but sternly. “Answer me, Ammon. Are you ready to die for Rehan?”

The young man shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “But I won’t kill him.” The words had barely passed his lips when Atemu’s knife was buried six inches into his abdomen. He didn’t feel the pain right away. Shock was the first thing that his brain was able to relay. His eyes traveled downward just in time to see Atemu yank the blade from his body. “Y-you…stabbed me…”

The future pharaoh shrugged. “I gave you several chances, Ammon. You brought this upon yourself.” Crimson eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You know,” he said. “If your hair was just a little longer you would look a lot like your brother.”

Ammon didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply. Pain like fire had begun to spread from his stomach to cover every inch of his body. He winced when Atemu’s hand began stroking his hair and tried to pull away when the prince leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

“So much like Bakura,” Atemu was muttering. “I never noticed it before…” He ran his fingers down the front of Ammon’s shirt.

“Atemu…please…” The words fell upon deaf ears as the future pharaoh stared at him with renewed interest. Sweat broke out over his body. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. He gathered the last of his energy to swat away the hands probing his hair and chest.

“Don’t fight me,” the prince whispered. A wicked smile played over his lips. “Don’t you want to serve your pharaoh?”

“…stop…”

Atemu struck again, this time delivering a three inch deep slice across the skin of Ammon’s chest that he’d just been admiring. “Don’t fight me,” he said again.

“No,” Ammon cried out, pulling vainly at the shackles on his wrists.. “Please…just stop…”

Atemu reached out and caught Ammon’s jaw in his hand. He smiled with self-satisfaction and again kissed his captive. The room was filling with the scent of freshly spilled blood. “Are you determined to defy me?” he asked, noting Ammon’s failed response.

“…you won’t…get away with this…” Ammon managed through his tears.

Atemu sighed and stood up, carefully avoiding the blood pooling beneath his captive. Without a word he turned and strode to the mounted collection of short spears on the east wall of his chamber. He set the dagger aside and selected one of the spears at random before returning to the corner. He held the weapon in both hands, a grave look upon his usually smooth features. “You will learn respect,” he swore. “Osiris will thank me for teaching you this lesson when I send you to meet him.” He lifted the spear high above his head and brought it down with brute force atop Ammon’s head.

The young man screamed again as blood started to run from the wound, his arms rising to protect himself out of instinct as his body curled forward. “Atemu!”

The future pharaoh struck again, this time delivering a merciless blow to Ammon’s lower back and relishing in the satisfying crunch. “Stand up,” he demanded.

Ammon would have obeyed, if for no other reason than a brief interlude of relief, but he’d suddenly lost all feeling in his lower body. “…I…can’t…”

“I SAID STAND UP!” Atemu screamed. When his demand was met with nothing more than a pained moan he kicked out viciously, aiming for the captive’s ribcage. He lost count and memory of most of the kicks, each one met with the same thud and the occasional crunch of a bone cracking or breaking. Rage filled the future pharaoh’s eyes as he continued the attack yelling “You will obey.”

He wasn’t quite sure when Ammon passed out but he looked down at the bloody mess on the floor and grimaced. He spit on the unconscious man in disgust. “Serves you right,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You should never have challenged me.”

The room suddenly seemed very quiet without Ammon’s pitiful sobs. The prince dropped the spear onto the ground and left the chamber, his mind already working on another plan to gain Bakura’s affection.

~End Flashback~


“He was unconscious but alive when I left my chamber,” Yami managed to say through his tear-restricted throat. “I changed my clothes and washed his blood from my hands before returning to the dungeon to find that Bakura had escaped. In retribution I told my father where he could find the village of Kuru Eruna and suggested that he raze it to the ground.”

Yugi hadn’t said a word throughout the entire telling of the ancient memory. He didn’t know WHAT to say. After a few failed attempts he managed to speak. “That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard,” he stated. “How could you be so cruel to him all these years knowing that it was YOU who made him into the man he is now?”

Yami shook his head. “I have no excuse,” he whispered.

“Get out.”

“…what?”

“Get the fuck out of my house. I can’t even stand to look at you.”

“Aibou…”

Yugi held up his hand. “No. For years you made yourself out to be the big hero, the savior, fighting the good fight against all of the evil and injustice in the world when it turns out that the evil was YOU all along.”

Every word drove the hurt deeper into the pharaoh’s heart. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“It’s too late for sorry. Get out.”

Yami bit his lower lip in a failed attempt to stop its trembling and scooted off of the bed. “Yugi…”

The small duelist met eyes with his yami. “There is nothing you can say that will take back what you did. Both to Bakura and to me. Please…just go. You owe me that much.”

After a tense moment Yami nodded. He slipped out of Yugi’s room quietly and went to his own. Through his sobs he managed to pack his minimal belongings into his pillowcase and picked it up, along with Ryou’s overnight bag, before leaving the room.

He paused in the hallway, considering trying to say goodbye to his light before deciding against it. Yugi was right. He owed him that much.
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A/N (yes, again): The flashback from this chapter was written solely from Atemu's point of view. The next chapter will answer the remaining questions as Bakura reveals his past to Ryou.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Again, please forgive the lateness of this post. I have my fingers crossed that my muses stay in line long enough to finish the next one :).