Illusion

I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, the story, or the characters. Wish I did, though.


At first he felt only pressure, shock, as the Egyptian inserted it, cold and hard, where part of his own body used to be. Next, he became aware of the warm tickle, that was the blood, creeping down his cheek; of the salty iron-taste, when it reached his mouth. He knelt there, eyelids lowered, shutting his own eye, as well as the new metal one on the left side.

“Open your eyes.” The Egyptian’s voice came from further off; he must have moved back. Pegasus obeyed, looked up, searched for him, and saw her instead.

“Cyndia?” She came to him, arms outstretched, golden hair swirling around her shoulders. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Her lips were parted, and he saw understanding in her violet eyes. “Let me look at you.” Her hands were just the same, her body slim in the long gown.

He reached out to hold her, but his arms touched nothing, and he felt a surge of rage. Turning toward the Egyptian, “You said…”

“I promised nothing.” His face was impassive. “The Eye can only see.”

“I don’t want your filthy Eye on those terms.” He wouldn’t have thought he could move so fast, not after losing all that blood. “Take it out.” He had him by both shoulders, and he was shaking him. “Kill me if you have to. Give it to someone else.” He had only one eye left to cry with, but the blood on the left side was almost like tears.

“I told you, the Eye can see.” Why was the Egyptian’s voice still level, why was his face still calm? “Look closely.”

Slowly, he opened his eyes, his fingers still tight on the other man’s shoulders. “Cyndia?” He licked his lips. “I don’t understand.”

She didn’t answer, only looked down, dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks. “It’s okay.” He cupped her face in his hand. “You don’t have to say anything.” He kissed her soft lips, tasting salt, from his tears, or from hers? Or was it the blood? “I don’t mind if you can’t talk.” His other arm was around her shoulders, and he could feel her tiny, fragile bones.

“My darling,” Her golden hair brushed his face. “It’s been so long.” He could feel the softness of her breasts, pressed close to him. “All those years I spent without you.” His arm was around her waist now, hand splayed, feeling the shape of her, through her skirt. “Now I have you at last.”

She kissed him back eagerly, her little hands undoing his shirt, pushing aside the suspenders, slipping inside to touch his bare skin. He caught his breath, then pulled her closer. “My Cyndia!” Raining kisses on her upturned face, “My darling!” Her fingers were soft on the muscles of his back. “My love!” Her lips touched his throat.

He could feel himself sobbing, as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. “Cyndia…” It didn’t matter if he said it aloud or if he only thought it. “I always wished I could have died when you did.”

Now she was undoing his pants. He felt a teasing little tickle, as her fingers brushed his erection. “Cyndia?” He stared, as her blonde head bent lower, and she touched him with her mouth. She didn’t answer, didn’t even look up, only knelt over him, as he lay on the cold stone floor, and took him in her mouth, first the head, and then his entire length, running her tongue along the underside, and making the goosebumps come, all over him.

“I don’t understand…” Now he knew he didn’t say it out loud, because he couldn’t have managed to say anything, not while her mouth was doing those things to him, making him feel like this. It didn’t matter anyway, did it? Not when they were married. Only don’t let her stop, because it felt so good!

He realized his fingers were dug into her blonde hair, holding onto her head, while it bobbed, pleasuring him. The stone floor was hard, while he arched his back, his body clamoring for release. “I’m sorry, Cyndia.” Feeling the roughness under him, as he rocked his hips, “I’ll make the next time good for you, I promise.” Feeling her hair, tangled tight around his fingers, the shape of her head, under his hands, “I love you so much!” He came, and it felt like all the years of pent-up loneliness being released at once.

Reaching up, he tried to pull her down onto the floor with him, but she moved away. Pegasus looked around, surprised. “Next time,” That was the Egyptian’s voice. “If you do the work the Eye has set for you.” His body was aching, exhausted; his mind was confused. Standing, dizzily, adjusting his clothes, he made himself ready to leave.

He walked back up the stairs toward the door of the Chamber, his body slow, and stiff as an old man’s. Calmly, the Egyptian watched him leave. He’ll never know what I did with him. Not even a trace of a smile was on his face. He’ll never let himself know. He turned a little, watching, as Pegasus walked back out into the sunlight. And he’ll do the task I’ve given him.