Running Through My Head

Don't make me beg you people shamelessly for reviews. As always all are welcome, though any and all flames will be subjected to the ridcule of me and my anime/gamer/writing buddies. So yeah, FLAME AT YOUR OWN RISK. And Thanks go out to the two people who were brave enough to review. It helps alot. So thanks to J.S. and Yamimi *Hugs to all ou guys*


Chapter 5

A month passed, and Amber was as willful and sharp-tongued as ever. She could have dealt with the fact that she was stuck in this royal hellhole, cut off from everything she knew, and enslaved to boot. But dammit, dealing with monthly issues without the modernity of the twenty-first century purely sucked. She was too stubborn to complain about cramps, but the blood was another issue. There was that fact, and also the situation with the bathing arrangements. More than once she had ranted that she could take care of cleaning herself, but no one seemed to want to let her, which was supremely annoying.
“For God sake, I’m not a baby!” she snapped at the servants, who by all logic had more power than she did. “I can take care of myself!”
“But Lady,” They insisted on calling her Lady, probably because the Pharaoh had kept her so close, for so long. “You are still injured from-.”
“I’m not so helpless that I can’t take a bath on my own thanks.” Amber ground out, trying not to tense up the muscles in her left arm, since the stitches were still there.
“But Lady, please,” Began another of the servant women. “The Pharaoh has ordered us to help you, and-.”
“Look,” Amber tried though gritted teeth. “I’ll talk to him about this, but ‘til then, just let be alright?” Several of the women exchanged surprised and befuddled expressions, while a few others merely looked insulted. Slowly, reluctantly, they filed out of the bathing chamber, perhaps fearing reprimand.
“You’ll call if you need anything right?” Asked one of the more skittish servants. Amber couldn’t help but give a weak smile.
“I’ll be fine, but if I need anything I’ll let you know. Thanks.” She added as the woman closed the wooden door and Amber was at last alone. She heaved a heavy sigh, exasperated and tired from the past few weeks. It wasn’t enough that her luck had been weird enough to throw her out here, but just in time to deal with the same problem nearly all women had to deal with every month. Sinking into the bath wearing absolutely nothing felt truly wonderful, especially since nobody else was hanging around to annoy her to death by insisting on scrubbing her back. She settled herself to a seat on the smooth, slightly warm, stone bench carved into the tub, or pool, or whatever it was. The water was a calming temperature, not hot, but definitely not cold either. But she still had to rest her left arm up on the edge of the sunk-in bath. The doctor had given strict instructions against wetting the wound at all, if it could be avoided. Amber didn’t like this, but understood the necessity for it, so she didn’t complain. Besides, she figured it was for her continued good health, so she really had no right or reason to complain.
Another sigh passed out of her lungs as her eyes settled on the darker marking against her otherwise unmarred skin. The fact that it was now an imperfection didn’t bother her. There had been scars on her before, and she’d survived all of them, one more wouldn’t kill her.
But it could have. The morbid thought seemed to surface out of nowhere, like a floating body in a cheap horror movie. For what may well have been the millionth time since the incident, Amber went over the fragmented memories of the attempted murder again. She still couldn’t remember when she was on her feet, or even deciding to get up and do something. In fact it seemed that prior to the searing pain and rush of hot fluids in her arm, nothing else existed in reference to these events. But just shortly after, she could remember looking up past her bloodied arm and locking onto a pair of eyes as cold as black ice, very long white hair, a youthful-looking face. But any further details were lost to the confusion that had then ensued. The aftermath seemed fuzzy as well, except for the image of the Pharaoh and the little prince. Those two stood out as clean-cut in her mind as the wound did on her arm. Amber let out a breath she was not aware she’d been holding, and rested her head against the edge of the bath, her long hair drifting in the water around her. It would have been nice to have a friend here. Oh she counted Yugi as a friend of sorts, but this directly involved him. It had been an attempt on his life, and Amber couldn’t bring herself to make him relive the whole damn thing when it wasn’t necessary. And of course talking with Yami was way the hell out of the question, since it was his brother, and she didn’t entirely trust him anyway.
If she was being honest with herself, Amber knew what she really wanted, and it wasn’t just a friend. Homesickness had settled on her like the thick heaviness of a cloudy, humid night. And she decided she would go home, soon. It would take some planning, but it could be managed, if she kept her eyes open and was careful in her actions; she could not afford to make a single mistake in this operation…

The Pharaoh sat restlessly on his throne, wishing he could call it a day, and go to his chambers, to her. Then his thoughts followed the general pattern they’d been going in all day, and he wondered why he felt the need to see her. He had concluded that it was not something strictly physical, it was more than that. Though how he knew this was way beyond his own understanding. Trying not to yawn as a merchant argued with a farmer about who owed what to whom, Yami glanced over to his younger sibling. Yugi seemed about as enthusiastic with the proceedings as his brother did. His eyelids kept drooping shut, and slowly opening up again. And his hands moved absently over the purring mass of red fur which lay curled up in his lap. Pippin the cat had not left Yugi alone since the incident, and trotted beside him wherever he walked. It was difficult to say if this was really good or bad at all. On the one hand, it might have been a sign that he still needed protection, that there might be another attempt. Then again, who would dare attack someone protected by the Gods?
A fool’s blade may be sharper than his brain. The Pharaoh reminded himself. He let his fist come up to support his right temple, with the promise of a headache forming there. He remembered the last one he’d had like this. That day when Amber was given to him, and how she’d seemed to pull the pounding ache from his mind with those gentle hands… Yami heaved a sigh. Why think of that now? He wondered, without really caring. For some reason, thinking about her seemed to help him feel better. Maybe it was her calm demeanor, her stoicism, that inner strength she seemed to wrap around every aspect of her being; and, yet again, the question of where she came from and who she really was rose up in his head. Somehow, even though she was no more than a slave here, the question of her life elsewhere seemed to matter.
No amount of divination or prayer to the Gods had yielded anything helpful in this strange situation either. They hand granted him no visions that answered his questions; only vague images of themselves together in some way or other ever surfaced, leaving him puzzled and more curious than before. But if he were being honest with himself, it was more than just the fact that she was so strange, so totally alien to him, that made him think about her so much.
Warmth touched his cheeks as the memory of her lips against his flooded his consciousness. It wasn’t the fact that he’d kissed her. He’d kissed plenty of women in his time, not to mention the fact that he’d done more than that. No, it was really the simple fact that he’d kissed her on the lips. Normally, Yami made a point of avoiding this whenever possible, choosing instead to tease other sensitive areas. So why did I do that to her? His mind practically screamed at him for an answer he just didn’t have. In a place somewhere deeper than his mind, that kind of kiss was more intimate, more feeling and meaningful. He heaved another sigh and stood up to leave. Maybe he had just reacted to her that was all. But if that was the case, then why was he now finding himself walking to the one place he knew he would find her?

Amber lay stretched out on the bed, laying on her right side, somewhere between asleep and awake. The state of mind she was in was something she had taught herself to do while on long airplane trips. She was awake, which was to say conscious, but her eyes were closed and her breathing long and even like soft wind in tall grass.
Not that the Pharaoh knew she was awake, since she still had the appearance of sleep. He merely sat on the edge of the bed observing her. Eyes so deeply purple as to look otherworldly drank in the sight of his entrancing slave; the gentle swell and fall of her chest, the way her long still-damp hair curled and trickled down her back, the way her limbs would shift slightly every now and then, the dark stitches that so contrasted with her alabaster skin, those soft pale pink lips slightly parted. It seemed that every so often those tempting lips would move as if to form words. But no sound reached his ears, even when he dared to lean as close as possible without waking her. It had not escaped Yami that this kind of moment, with Amber above anyone else, was exceptionally rare; he would not risk spoiling this moment by waking her up and doubtless having to deal with a sharp attitude.
But those lips of hers were so soft looking. A flush of color bloomed in his face at the direction of he own thoughts, which were none too chaste at the moment. At length, he allowed himself to be tempted. Leaning over her carefully so as not to inflict any harm on her injury, he arched his neck a bit and touched his lips to hers. At first the contact was so light, so brief that he might have kissed a warm breeze for all he could feel. He wanted more, wanted to feel the firmness of her mouth against his, her softer frame melding with his own body, her arms twined tightly around him, her soft hair teasing his face.
In some rational part of his mind, Yami knew he was taking a big risk, at least as far as getting close to this woman was concerned. If she woke up now, he’d most likely find himself on the receiving end of her considerable rage. But although his kisses grew firmer, bolder, Amber still did not stir. She remained on her side, breathing calmly, as regular as the currents of the Nile. Finally yielding to his damn good sense, the Pharaoh briefly touched his lips to Amber’s cheek, then leaned back up into a sitting position. But there was something he noticed just then, and leaned in again to make sure. But it was no trick of the eye or the light; warm color had come up into her cheeks. It was as though on some level her body knew what he was doing, and expressing appreciation and gratitude. Yami smiled openly, knowing she couldn’t see his expression with her eyes closed. It was sort of funny, and maybe enticing, how she could look so beautiful in the disarray of sleep. His deep gaze drifted back down to her arm, and the tiny stitching in her soft skin. Just the image, and the surreal feel of it made him want to punch a hole in the wall. It also made him want to keep her always close to him, despite the fact that she didn’t seem to like him much, if at all.
Every time he paused to think deeply on her like this, Yami found that the answer to each of his questions only provoked more mental inquiries. She was an enigma for the ages that at least was for certain. And he heaved a sigh as he rested his hand on her shoulder, as if the gesture itself could guard her from the very jaws of death. Maybe it was just the fact that she had taken a big risk to help his brother, maybe not, but Yami could definitely feel himself becoming more attached to her by the more he thought of her. He noted this with some measure of worry, as day by day, Amber seemed to become quieter, colder, and somehow devoid of feeling. She wasn’t constantly angry, nor happy, sad or any one of a thousand other emotions. She was withdrawing into herself, like a plant that decays slowly, dying from the inside first. And in spite of the many walls and bands of steel he’d placed around his heart to guard against such a feeling, the Pharaoh couldn’t help but worry for her. Amber was something special, by more than just the standards of slaves, or the nobility for that matter. Yami leaned down again and took in a deep breath, inhaling her scent of her hair. The perfume of some foreign flora had almost completely faded, but not quite; and there was the smell of rich soap, clean water, and a hint of wood-smoke, a good healthy smell. It seemed clear that she was medically well, but he knew from his own past that that did not mean she was mentally, or emotionally well. And if things went on as they were going now, the harm would start to show physically. There was a distinct possibility that it might even kill her.
Yami nearly bit his tongue at the painful twinge in his chest, his whole body suddenly stiff and pent up. Presently Amber stirred a little, and he watched as her eyes blinked open, watched the haze of sleep fade from her eyes as the focused on him now. He’d almost smiled when one dark eyebrow rose o her face. That expression on a still sleepy face was just so damned adorable.
“Do I even wanna ask?” She said, her voice somewhat scratchy from sleep.
Yami only smiled and softly cupped her face earning her full attention; since he did this vary rarely. “You probably wouldn’t care.” He remarked, resting his chin in his other hand.
For a moment Amber just stared at him as if he’d said something odd. Then she heaved a sigh and rolled those pretty green eyes. “You’re weird.” She said in a tired sort of way, which left him wondering what on earth had become of that fiery spirit of hers.

Some hours later, when the rest of the place was asleep, save for the nighttime guards, Amber carefully eased out of bed. She had to move slowly so as not to disturb the Pharaoh and risk being caught. Stepping with as much muted sound as a cat’s paw, she padded out of the bedchamber and into the bathing area. From there she could slip out onto an opened terrace, or something of the kind, where she knew there were no guards. Such nocturnal strolls for the past few weeks had taught her where the shadows covered her, and where the guards did not patrol. She wanted out, and now she would get out. She slipped quietly and quickly as she could down some steps and out to an open yard. Amber would have liked to bring Pippin with her, but she could not risk him making noise and being caught. Besides, he was rooming with Yugi and didn’t seem to have any inclination to leave the boy’s side. After what seemed like the whole night to Amber, she was finally out in the open air of the market, and with only a moment’s hesitation in which she threw one last glance at the palace, she took off like a bat out of Hell. She didn’t know the precise location she wanted, but the general theory had firmly embedded itself in her mind. If she got here by that one location in the desert by the Nile, it was only logical that she could get back the same way wasn’t it? She hoped to God that this would work and kept running, choosing to ignore her screaming muscles.
By the time she reached the area she thought she was looking for, the sun had started to rise and dazzle off the sand and river water. Amber was out of breath and about ready to collapse from running for so long. Her lungs seemed to be on fire and her legs were wobbly from overuse. Even so, the thought of being caught and most probably dragged back to the place by her hair kept her going. At least it made her keep going until her left foot caught on something and stuck fast to the ground. When she looked down, she was already ankle-deep in the sand, and no amount of pulling or yanking would loosen the earth’s grip on her.
Quicksand?! She thought wildly, as it continued to swallow her up. Amber could do nothing, there was nothing to grab onto and no way to stop any of this, so in the end, she held her breath and screwed up her eyes as tightly closed as she could. Everything seemed to be rushing past her in hurry, wind and sand and more besides. Then with a thud, a scrape, and a cry of pain, she felt herself connect none to softly with concrete pavement.