Running Through My Head

Thanks to the one person who has been bold enough to review so far. I appreciate the input *HUGS* Okay then, here's chapter 3, hope my fans like


Chapter 3: Dinner and Debate

Some hours later, the Pharaoh walked down the halls to his chambers. There was a steady throbbing ache behind his left temple, and he felt inclined to lie down for a bit in hopes of calming it before the side of his face exploded, it would be nice to relax for a bit. Also he recalled the woman he had received as a gift in the early afternoon, and was curious about her. The looks she had given him where, he thought, the oddest reactions he could have received from a slave. It was not really common knowledge that he was generally good to them, more often people preferred to make him out as a cruel tyrant that removed heads as easily as nodding. He certainly had the ability to be, if he were so inclined. But really, what was the point? That would most likely mean having to cope with hysteria on top of everything else, and anyway, slaves that liked you were more likely to be obedient and loyal. After the guards had opened the doors for him, he waved on hand in a gesture of dismissal. They bowed as the closed the doors, and the Pharaoh relaxed a bit when he heard the sound of their heavy feet fading down the hallway. His own amethyst gaze fell to the bed, and the empty jeweled collar beside it. Anger rose, and so did the pounding in his head. An agitated growl passed his lips and he strode swiftly to the bed and practically ripped the hangings aside. The bed was empty, but he could see something through the hangings on the other side. The outline of a person was backlit by the setting sun and fudged a bit by the lack of focus the hangings offered. Quietly this time, he walked around the bed and stared out the far side of the room and to the balcony. There, with the sunlight on her face and in her hair, was the new slave-woman. She was just standing there by the railing, her elbows leaning on it, and her chin in her slender hands, just staring out at nothing. The ruler of Egypt snapped himself out of his trance and stepped closer to her. She only glanced at him when he was about five or six feet away, then let her eyes focus on the landscape in the distance again. This utter lack or respect annoyed the Pharaoh, and to show this he came close to her and gripped her firmly by the wrist. She winced a little, then her face hardened, and she gave a sharp jerk, trying to free herself from his grasp. It made no difference, he still held onto her as tightly as ever, and two sets of eyes were locked in a death glare. She blinked first, sighed and looked away. The Pharaoh smirked a bit and came closer, but as he did so she backed up, not a reaction he had expected. There seemed no limit to the surprises this woman had. So he tried a different tactic, and pulled her suddenly close. He was amused to note that she went as rigid as a stone statue. But there was no reaction other than that.
“Say something.” He quietly ordered, and she leaned a little back from him. The look she gave said, quite plainly You told me to watch my mouth. “You may speak freely.” He sighed in mild exasperation.
“That’s a matter of opinion.” She remarked and made another attempt at easing out of his arms. The Pharaoh held her tighter still, clamping her between his arms and his body. It was easy to tell that this was making her uncomfortable. “Will you let up already?” she added with fresh irritation.
“Does it bother you, being close to your master?” The Pharaoh asked, his voice soft and velvety, his breath warm against her right ear. The very slightest of shivers ran through her body, and being as physically close as they were, he felt it all too well.
“Gee, what was your first clue?” she said sarcastically, another indication of her fury, at least at this point. The painful pulsing behind his left temple began again and the Pharaoh eased away from her. She stared at him as he sank down on the edge of the bed, pressing two fingers to his forehead. “Headache?” she asked, a tad gentler now.
“Migraine.” He muttered and winced. For her own part, Amber wasn’t sure what she should do. On the one hand, this man couldn’t possibly think of her as really anything other than property, and therefore any discomfort he was in was only fair. On the other hand, she knew just how terrible a migraine could be, having had a few in her lifetime too. With a heavy sigh, and thinking that she would probably regret this, she climbed onto the bed next to and slightly behind him. He looked back at her, and there was some level of suspicion in his face. With her hands of either side of his face, the slave-woman turned him to face forward again and he felt her thumbs begin to rub carefully at the base of his skull. Relief (warm, sweeping, glorious relief) washed over his brain, chasing the pain away, throb for throb. His deep eyes slid shut and he leaned back into her warm, soft, graceful hands. Where in the name of Ra did she learn this? He wondered as the pain continued to seep away. The Pharaoh could feel himself going slack now that he was not so on edge, and he swore he could feel her breathing right behind him.
“Feel better?”” she asked softly. The Pharaoh didn’t reply in words, but reached back and pulled her arms around his shoulders, so that she was more or less hugging him. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” She said dryly. It was getting annoying to have him practically all over her every other minute. “Do you mind?” she said, trying to pull back.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He replied and held on even tighter. He felt her exasperated rush of breath on the side of his face and neck, and smiled with satisfaction. Fixing both of her hands securely in his left, the Pharaoh reached back with his right hand and gently stroked her cheek. He could feel her jaw clenched beneath the skin and he sighed, she really needed to lighten up. Reaching a little farther, he embedded his fingers in her long, silky soft hair and forced her a little closer, so her chin rested on his shoulder now. “Tell me your name.” He nearly whispered. And almost instantly, she went stiff again.
“Why should I bother?” she muttered, sounding more depressed than angry. At this, the hand in her hair became a fist, gripping the long locks none too gently.
“Because you will find the dangers of not doing so are far greater.” He told her warningly. There was a long moment of silence and finally, his fist loosened back into a hand and stoked softly at her hair again.
“Amber.” She mumbled, and he looked at her, so that they were nearly eye-to-eye. “So, what’s your name?” she asked, idly, feeling like she might as well know.
“Why should I tell you that?” he said, smirking at her. He could play this game just as well as she could.
“Because I gave you mine and I really didn’t want to.” She snapped back.
“It’s not as though you’ll be calling me by it.” He remarked with maddening superiority.
“Well what am I supposed to call you? Master, or something like it?” her voice was laced with sarcasm again and he rolled his eyes.
“What else did you expect?” his tone was sarcastic now, and somehow that had not surprised Amber much. “Did you think life as a slave would be fill with days of lounging about?”
“Hey!” her voice was suddenly as sharp as the snap of a whip. “In case you forgot, I wasn’t given any choice in the matter!” He had obviously touched a nerved, it was clear in her loss of composure. “What kind of idiot would actually want to be a slave?” she added as an after-thought. A heavy silence settled on them again, and who could be surprised.
“Yami.” Amber wasn’t quite sure she heard right, his voice was so quiet.
“Yami?” she repeated inquisitively. His response was to glance over his shoulder and give a single nod. For a long time, it seemed, they just sat there almost staring at each other. It felt strange, like they had reached some small understanding. Feeling awkward, Amber tried to ease away from the Pharaoh, and again, his hand on her wrists tightened and drew her close. “Will you kindly knock it off?” She asked in her dry, ruffled tone of voice. Yami’s deep chuckle only served to annoy her further.
“You know, I don’t really feel inclined to.” He said in that same deliberately superior tone. Moving slowly, he turned to face her, being careful to keep a good hold on her arms so she didn’t try anything perfectly mad. He sat there completely facing her now, her hands still in one of his, and his free hand still messing about with her hair.
“Stop that.” She muttered irritably, tossing her head so that her hair flicked itself out of his fingers. The Pharaoh inadvertently applied more pressure to her wrists, and looked surprised when she hissed in pain. “Watch the wrists.” She bit out, and his hold on her loosened, though not by much. The number of staring contests seemed to have no end to them in sight, as was the case now too. Penetrating amethyst met sharp green. Neither could look away. It was silly, childish, and they were stuck.
Finally, and with a gruff voice, Yami asked, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Amber knew he was referring to her sore wrists, and only stared at him hard for a moment longer. Then she averted her eyes looking away, he was making her uncomfortable.
“Would it have made a difference?” Yami was getting the feeling that she rarely let her defenses down, and even though she was less than happy, now was no exception. There was a moment of unstressed calm between them, then…
“You’re very stoic.” He said softly, releasing her hands altogether, and stroking her hair softly again. Yami was almost startled when she actually smiled at that.
“I’m not really.” She said, and looked a bit embarrassed. “I just bite my tongue.” When she looked at him again, she had to hold in the insane urge to laugh, because he looked a little ill. “I don’t mean that literally.” She said, still trying hard to keep her amusement in check. He sighed, and then looked at her with a smirk again.
“And just what is so funny?” He knew damn well what she was trying not to laugh at, but he just wanted to see what she would do when confronted about it. Amber’s cheeks bloomed scarlet, and she diverted her gaze to the ceiling, a smirk playing on her own lips now. Yami’s eyes were, for some reason, drawn to start at that mouth.
“Can’t tell you that.” She said loftily.
“Why not?” He said, edging closer to her, and his grin widened when she let her gaze fall to him again. She blushed even harder if that was possible.
“Um, it’s a state secret?” she sounded like she was suggesting the idea. Her smiled seemed more forced now, but the Pharaoh didn’t back off.
“You’re not being straight with me.” He breathed softly in her ear. His hands were running slowly up and down her arms, so he felt it instantly when she tensed again.
“You’re right, I’m not.” She said flatly, and turned her back to him.
There’s that wall again he couldn’t help thinking. But he wasn’t about to just leave it at that. Settling right behind her, he very carefully slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly against his body, her back to his chest. She could not have been more rigid than if she were made of stone. Yami sighed as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Does my touch bother you so much?” he breathed in her ear again, but there was no hint of a smirk this time, not even on his face or in his tone.
“Knock it off.” She said tartly, turning her head away from his face as far as she could. His hand came up and turned her face back to his. But Amber never got the chance to retaliate, because his lips were instantly on hers, warm and soft, and such an utter surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it. The Pharaoh wasn’t the least bit surprised that his new slave was still imitating a statue. Doubtless, she had not seen that coming, and it was more likely she had expected a sharp reprimand instead. Yami was no amateur at this sort of game. Although he had no wife yet, as she viziers were constantly reminding him, he had been given some slave women as gifts, and they had each been seduced easily by him. He did not love them, and had told each one so from the start, but they went willingly to bet with him anyway. If the fact that he otherwise treated them the same as the rest of the slaves and servants bothered any of them, they were wise enough, or maybe just scared enough to keep silent; or failing that, they just didn’t care and were in it for the physical fun. But right now, as his lips worked hers, gently at first, a roman saying came back to him.
Even snow will melt on a warm day, but not her. Amber was being stubborn and hardly responding, though that might still be due to shock. His other hand, still on her waist, was drawing soothing circles along her ribs, and he could feel her starting to relax a bit. Taking the next step, Yami gently parted his own lips and passed his tongue smoothly across her lips. But the second he’d done it, he knew it had been a mistake, for he felt her gasp and go stiff again, trying to lean away from him. He heaved another deep annoyed sigh, and very reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers. But his hands stayed solid where they were on her abdomen and face, not allowing her to move.
“Let go of me.” She breathed harshly and, he was surprised to note, almost desperately. A long pause in which the only sound of their deep breathing followed for a moment, at least until they had each caught their breath sufficiently. The Pharaoh’s lips just briefly touched her cheek then he backed off, and Amber took a few good, sobering, breaths away from his scent. There was a tentative knock at the door, and casting her another of his wolfish smiles, Yami got up and walked over to the massive wooden panels, that served to bar them from the outside hallway. When he answered it, one of the servant girls, who was probably Yugi’s age or even a bit younger, bowed, holding up a rather large tray of food and drink, more than enough for the rooms two occupants.
“Thank you, but I didn’t send for this.” Yami said, accepting the tray and smiling at the girl. She looked both terrified and enamored, because her eyes were so wide and her face blushing as red as a tomato.
“Master Yugi asked me to send this up to your room My Pharaoh.” She said tremulously, and bowed low again. Yami nodded to her that she could leave and the girl did so, scampering away much faster than he would have guessed her capable. He chuckled a bit as he kicked the door closed and set the tray on a long table set op next to another wall. Turning to Amber, he beckoned with a finger, but instead of getting off the bed and coming over to him, she just sat there with her feet tucked under her and her arms folded. Everything about her spoke of defiance.
“Don’t tell you have no need of food.” He said pointedly, still smirking. But he was pacified when she got off the bed and walked over to him. Yami gently pushed her into a chair, and picked out a piece of fruit with a fork, then held it out in front of her lips.
“Trying to feed me?” she said archly. “Or do you suspect someone’s trying to poison you?” It was becoming abundantly clear just how much of a talent for sarcasm she really had.
“Quite the comedian, aren’t you?” Amber heard the equally sarcastic not in his words, and wasn’t sure she completely sure she liked, nor that the minded it either. She took the fork from his finger and fed herself the fruit on it before handing it back to him and looking either amused or irate, it was hard to tell since she was smiling. Yami took a piece of food for himself, then speared another and repeated his actions of a few moments ago.
“Okay I’ve figured it out.” Amber said as though she’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery. It was all he could do not to laugh at the ridiculously theatrical tone she used.
“What?” He asked, expecting a joke, and sure enough…
“You’re trying to annoy me to death.” She concluded aloud. To their mutual surprise, they both laughed at that.
“That’s not funny.” He said once they had both calmed down. But all it took was another look at each other for them to burst out laughing again.
“Yes it is!” Amber said in between gasps for air.
“So,” he began again when they calmed a bit more. “You’re challenging my word by disagreeing?” the line was delivered daringly, and he wondered how she would take it. But Amber merely chuckled again.
“No, I don’t need to.” Her tone was now more matter-of-fact and even thoughtful. “I just think that it’s funny since you and I were both laughing at it.”
“And what if I disagree?” Said the Pharaoh, leaning back in his chair a bit. “What if I say that I laughed unwillingly?” For a second or two, she just stared incredulously at him. Then folded her arms and shook her head, the long brown and gold mane waving, and smiled back at him.
“I’m not even going to touch that idea.” She said, still looking a bit smug.
“And why is that?” the Pharaoh asked. He found that he was beginning to like this kind of game she played.
“Because that particular philosophy is way-the-hell beyond me.” She said succinctly. Yami arched an eyebrow and she gave him a similar look.
“A slave who answers with wit, what is the world coming to?” the question was clearly rhetorical, but if he was annoyed, it wasn’t dancing-naked-in-front-of-you obvious. They ate a little more, and the Pharaoh continued to ask Amber question of this that and the other. Normally, he didn’t do this with slaves, but she was becoming a special case. He even went so far as to touch on the subject of her family, but that proved a fruitless effort. “Why not tell me about your family?” he asked, almost concerned that she would just clam up all of a sudden.
“A few reasons.” She answered in a cryptic, distant manner. Her eyes would not meet his, and seemed hypnotized by the smooth stone of the table.
Yami reached over and took her chin gently in his fingertips, tilting so that she looked up at him again. “Such as?” he asked, and his tone of voice meant to be obeyed. To him, her expression was somewhere between sadness and fury, and could not decide which it was supposed to be.
“My family is my business, and that is not something I will discuss with anyone.” Her tone was as cold and biting as the frigid winds in high mountains. “And certainly not with someone I hardly know.” Yami could tell that last acidic remark was meant specifically for him. Amber turned her head roughly from his fingers, stood, and strode past the bed to the balcony. She rested her elbows on the railing and let her fingers rake through her hair savagely. Although Yami wondered why she didn’t want to even graze the subject, he though he had some idea. He thought it very likely that something had happened to her family, and that wound would never heal, at least not completely. It made sense therefore that she would not open up and give him such a potential weapon, since she trusted him as much as a peacock trusts a jackal. He walked over to her, and could see her frame shaking slightly, though nothing more than a few shuddering breaths reached his ears. He reached out and ever so gently placed his hand between her shoulder blades, feeling the muscles tense. Wrapping his other arm loosely around her waist, he closed the space between them, letting his face burry itself in her long hair, the scent of some foreign flora washing over his nose, and making him feel drugged. The hand that had been on her back was now snaking around and across the front of her shoulders. She still shook with the force of keeping what where surely painful sobs from bursting forth.
“Don’t cry.” He heard himself whisper into her hair. “Please don’t.” It felt as though it had been so long since he’d needed to ask something of someone rather than command it, and the Pharaoh felt a twinge inside him that strung like a whole hive of hornets all in the same place. Amber took several deep breaths and managed to control herself, before trying to look at him. It isn’t easy to look over your own shoulder at someone when they’re holding you so tightly like that.
“Please let go.” Said the Pharaoh’s new slave, and he cocked his head slightly to one side to look at her, one eyebrow arched. “I’m fine, just…” She heaved a sigh. “Would you let go?” Yami felt irritated at her for her need to be so distant, then at himself for acting as if he needed her so desperately. His arms pulled away, leaving only his hands on her hips now.
“You still sound distressed.” Yami told her, brushing a few locks of rich brownish-gold hair away from her ear.
“Distressed?” she gave a laugh that held no humor. “I’m way past distressed.” The way she spoke made him wonder if she was going mad.
“Why is that?” He asked quietly, and his tone did not quite sound like its usual commanding self. Amber turned to look at him then, and though her eyes were just the slightest bit red around the rims, she still had that look between sorrow and anger.
“How would you feel if you’d lost your freedom and everything you’ve ever known all on one day?” The tone was not so harsh as he had expected, even so it made the necessary point. It was getting dark by now and the stars began to prick the sky with their pinpoints of light, and the bright moon hung low in the Egyptian sky, still somewhat early in the night. And for a time they just stood there, until Yami felt a chill breeze against his own warmer, slightly tanned skin. Easing back from Amber, he locked her hand with his and proceeded in the direction of his room again. But he met with resistance, her hand did not grip his back and she did not follow him back to the in-doors. Looking back at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched as they beheld her staring up at something. In the next moment, he was next to her again and following her gaze upwards.
“What on earth are you staring at?” he asked, when he could find nothing remarkable. For a second her eyes shifted to his face then back up at the sky.
“The stars.” She said calmly, though wonder was evident in her voice.
“Why? What’s so special about them?” He wondered aloud. After all, it wasn’t as though they were exactly hard to miss on any clear night, and that was quite normal here.
But to his surprise, Amber sighed. “Where I’m from you hardly ever get to see them.” The Pharaoh stared at her in blatant astonishment. “At least not this many.” She amended her previous statements.
The Pharaoh’s wit recovered rather quickly. “By any chance, do you live in a cave?” He smirked when her responding look was irate.
“So tell me,” she said leaning casually against the stone railing. “Is royalty always so catty, or is that just you?” Yami sighed; he could see that would never be content to let any of his taunting fly.
This could be quite amusing. Smirking again, he tugged on her hand and managed to indicate that they needed to go inside. He gestured to the bed, but it was clear from a glance that she didn’t understand whet his body language meant. “Lie down.” He ordered, though gently, and had to literally bite his tongue to keep from laughing at her reaction. At the moment, Amber reminded him of a cat that has just been startled senseless and stands there rigidly with its fur on end.
“I beg your pardon?” She said sounding deeply disturbed at his request.
“Lie down.” Yami repeated, clearly and firmly in his normal tone of command. Amber replied by wrenching her hand out of his and folding her arms over her chest, her cheeks aflame and her expression highly affronted. She’s sort of cute when she’s angry. The Pharaoh thought but did not say. He merely sighed with a tired smile on his handsome features. “You really are an odd woman you know.” He commented as he took her upper arm in his and guided her to the bed anyway.
“Oh really?” She said flatly, clearly not giving a damn.
“Most of the slave I’m given cower and grovel and practically beg to go to bed with me.” He sat her down on the edge and looked at her. “What makes you so different?” He finally asked what he had wanted to know ever since she’d first opened her mouth to speak so daringly.
“Probably the fact that I was brought up to be independent.” She said in that same flat, irritated tone. She reached and unzipped her boots, pulling each one off to set then standing next to the bed. “And I’m not sleeping with you because I have some sense of propriety.” She was skating on thin ice now and she knew it by the look on his face, but went on anyway. “I’m not about to sleep with anyone I barely know. Pharaoh or not, you are no exception.”
“Are all the women of your land like this?” he asked, walking around the bed and beginning to undress.
“All the smart ones.” Amber remarked, with her back to him. She had no need to see him bare-ass naked, especially when he looked tempting enough already.
“I pity the men.” She heard him chuckle as the bed-sheets rustled a bit.
“You shouldn’t, they judge mostly by looks anyway.” She replied, still with her back to him.
“Such a bad thing?” His hot breath whispered in her ear, making her shiver.
“Yes a bad thing.” Amber replied through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool. Yami’s fingers turned her face to meet his again, and she could have fallen over from the shock of his lips on hers.
“Is it all that bad for you?” He whispered huskily against her cheek.
“Yes it is.” She stated in as icy a tone as could be managed.
“Why’s that?” He asked, his fingers tracing lower than was altogether decent. Amber stopped his hand with one of her own and turned her face from his touch.
“Because I don’t like people assuming that because I’m pretty that I’m also dumb as a box of rocks.” She said bitterly. The sudden change in body language made him pause and ease back from her a bit.
“That might not be as bad as you’d like to think.” The Pharaoh told her. His voice was edgy from not getting what he would have dearly enjoyed, not this evening at least. Just as he tucked himself under the covers she glanced at him
“How so?” she asked, much calmer now.
“If an opponent thinks you’re stupid, they won’t work so hard against you to get what they want, and you have the element of surprise on your side.” He explained, then smiled at her stunned look. “Are you coming to bed or not?” She mumbled something about complying and edged cautiously under the blankets. “Do you always sleep in all your clothes like this?” Yami asked as his strong arms wound around her waist.
“Only if I have to sleep next to a guy I don’t trust.” She replied saucily. And she shivered again when he chuckled in her ear.
“Quit complaining, or I’ll bed you for real.” It was only a joke-threat, but it still achieved the desired effect.
“Goodnight.” She said shortly and slowly fell asleep with her back to him.


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