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Control	By : KuroSakura Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Crossovers Views: 1219 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or Lord of the Rings, and I do not make any money from these writings.

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Title: Control

By: KuroSakura-chan

Summary: Ryou and the others thought it
was bad when the Shadows dropped them into Middle Earth. But when
Bakura's kleptomania acts up, and he steals the One Ring, things get
decidedly worse.

Category: Lord of the Rings/Yu-Gi-Oh!

Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance

Couples: Seto/Bakura, Seto/Yami,
Marik/Ryou, Malik/Otogi, ?/Bakura,

Warning: Swearing, Yaoi,

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor
do I own Lord of the Rings, though I own several copies of each book,
have read them all, have seen all the movies, have several Legolas
posters, and generally am an all-around nerd when it comes to it.

A/N: So you all are aware, Control is a
fic that I have to write out completely before it gets posted. Thus,
it might take awhile, as I am notorious for not being able to spend
more than an hour working on one thing, and thus, I switch. Please
understand.

…

-Aragorn-

Strider.

That's what they call me in Bree. I
can't complain as I'm the one who gave them the name of Strider to
use for me.

Though something tells me that telling
this...wraith-like man that my name is Strider will not go over well.
I'm not even sure as to why the man seems so important, but he does.

So when whatever he's wearing around
his neck shines at the exact moment “Mr. Underhill”
vanishes, I clap, as though it was just a great show, even though the
man's companions look greatly surprised. The man himself doesn't,
but I haven't seen his expression change from sullen throughout the
night. Definitely not the type to let anyone know what he's thinking
by his expression.

So focused on saving this wraith-like
one from scrutiny, I almost jump when something backs into my legs.
Schooling my expression to one of boredom, I reach down and drag
“Underhill” up to sit beside me. I can't seem to make
myself look away from the wraith, though, so I begin speaking to the
hobbit without looking at him. “Well? Why did you do that?
Worse than anything your friends could have said! You have put your
foot in it! Or should I say your finger?”

I hear him open his mouth to respond,
but the wraith is moving. He has picked up his ale and slipped from
his seat, making his way to me. His crimson eyes are trained on me,
and he sits without asking if his presence was desired. Not that I
think I could tell him no without a reason he would accept. And I
honestly doubt I could find a reason he would accept.

“So, care to explain what just
happened? Or will I get a better answer as to why you've been
staring at me?” He demands, taking a drink of his ale without
removing his eyes from me. It is almost like he can see past all of
my lies and other precautions. His tone is bitter, and I find there
is one part of the ways he expresses himself that he cannot control.
I simply need to listen.

“Underhill” bristles
beside me, opening his mouth to respond, again. Unwilling to let him
drive the wraith away, I beat him to speaking. “It is
customary to introduce oneself and ask before simply joining
another's table.”

The wraith snorts. “Where I
come from, it's customary to buy a drink for someone before staring
at them so lustfully.” I cannot help but color at the
insinuation in his statement. “You can call me Bakura.”
He adds before I can respond, and I take a moment to think over the
given name. To be honest, it feels as though he is giving his true
name.

“Strider,” I tell him.
“and this is-”

“Underhill.” The hobbit
cuts in. He's apparently annoyed with being ignored.

Bakura's eyes shift from me to the
hobbit. I feel both relieved and upset about no longer being the
object of his attention. That gaze sees far more than it should.
“Underhill” quivers under it before the red eyes are
focused on me again. “I suppose that getting your real name
would be too easy. Really, though, I feel insulted.”

I honestly have no idea as how to
respond to that. There is a darkness in his tone that makes me think
the playful nature of the comment is untrue. Like he truly is
insulted. And if he is, I have no idea as to how to fix it.

“Why don't you explain that
light thing you did?” “Underhill,” who is only
further proving that he is Frodo Baggins by his attitude, demands.

Bakura turns to look at him again and
smirks as he quails under the intense red gaze. “It was simply
making sure I didn't miss your little stunt with that ring of yours.”

I can feel the blood freeze in my
veins. Bakura was not sent by Gandalf. He couldn't have been.
Gandalf would have warned me. But...how does he know about the One
Ring? Something about this whole situation is off...Like I'm missing
several large pieces. Especially because Bakura doesn't feel tainted
like servants of Mordor usually do.

Getting annoyed with our lack of
responses, he rolls his eyes. He tips the last of his ale into his
mouth and glances behind him, where a brunette, who I saw enter with
Bakura, is approaching. Cursing, Bakura is out of his seat and the
room without anything further. The brunette growls and follows after
Bakura. Interesting...

Frodo stares after Bakura and the
brunette, as does Bakura's companions. “What...was that?”
He asks.

“That, Frodo Baggins, was a
possible friend. Now go, wait in your room with your friends. We do
not want anyone to take note of our association.” The first
part of my comment was only a guess. There is no way for me to truly
know Bakura's intentions yet. Until I know him, I cannot know what
he will do.

Frodo pales as I mention his name, and
swallows. I think he wishes to ask me more, but I stand, making my
way to Bakura's companions. I wish to know more about this wraith of
a man, and though it shames me to admit, I wish to know more about
the man who caused Bakura's sudden departure. And though I am unsure
as to whether I will get the information I desire, at least my
movement will make my words clear to Frodo. He will do as I have
instructed.

Bakura's companions say nothing as I
sit with them. I find myself unnerved as a pair of emerald eyes and
a pair of lavender eyes focus on me. Why does Bakura look so
different from even his companions? They all look...different, but
he the most. And why can I not place their nationalities, despite
having been all over Middle-Earth?

We all stay quiet, waiting for
something to break the ice. Finally, the emerald-eyed one snorts and
sets his chin in his hand. “Did you have something in
particular you wished to as us? Or should we just ramble about
Bakura for awhile?”

The lavender eyes switch from watching
me to stare at the other. “You can't be serious, 'Togi.
Bakura has enough on his plate with Seto and the Pharaoh!”

“Mm, but he can leave this one
behind, should we find a way back.”

I twitch, knowing I am part of this
discussion, but being ignored. “Excuse me...How about we start
with names?” I suggest. Two sets of strange colored eyes turn
to focus on me, waiting. “Strider.” I finally say.

The reaction is instantaneous. I
cannot help but allow my forehead to meet my hand as the two fall
from their seats, peals of laughter erupting from them. So much for
not drawing attention to this discussion.

Lavender eyes are the first to focus
on me again. As filled with mirth as they are, I can't help but feel
like there is something darker in those depths. Something dangerous,
warning me to be far more careful with this strange group. As though
I wasn't being careful enough as it was.

“Malik.” The lavender-eyed
blond finally says. “My name is Malik, and this is Otogi. It
is nice to meet you.” Malik pulls himself back into his seat
before dragging Otogi back up.

“We aren't stupid enough to
believe your name is really Strider, but at least we know why 'Kura
let himself be chased off by Kaiba, rather than simply use you.”
Otogi comments. “Besides, you probably have your reasons,
yeah?”

“Of course, I do have my
reasons-wait. Use me for what?” I ask, unsure of Otogi's
meaning.

“To make Seto jealous, of
course.” Malik answers, picking up the conversation
immediately. “Normally, he would never let that prick chase
him off, but he probably felt insulted by your lack of honesty when
he was being honest with you.” Malik picks at the strange
half-shirt he wears, which shares the color of his eyes, strangely,
frowning.

“We should bathe, ne, Malik?
I'm sure the Pharaoh and the others are finished, if Kaiba is free.”
Otogi leans forward, setting his chin on Malik's shoulder. It
is...a rather intimate gesture, one I have not seen shared between
males. Still, I find I am not disturbed by it. I can simply wonder
if I will ever be able to share such with another being.

“Yeah. Let's hope Pharaoh isn't
in too pissy of a mood, yes?” Malik and Otogi stand, their
hands linking immediately.

I blink, jumping up to stop them from
leaving. “Wait. What is between Bakura and the brunette?”
I curse myself mentally. That was not how I had planned to say that.

The two look at each other and smirk
before looking to me. “Love, hate. Who knows? Ra certainly
knows that they don't. Why not try asking them yourself?”
Malik shrugs, at least responding before he and Otogi leave.

I stay at the table for a moment
before heading down the halls myself. I have a meeting with four
hobbits still, after all. My personal curiosity will have to be
quenched at another time. I realize that something is wrong the
moment I step into the room, however. It's difficult to miss, with
four panicking hobbits greeting me.

“The Ring! It's gone! We can't
find it anywhere!” Frodo tells me, once I've managed to calm
him to the point of understandable speech. “I had it right
before that stranger sat down, and now, it's gone!”

I think back, focusing on all of
Bakura's movements. I cannot think of a time where he would have
been able to snatch the Ring, but... “I'll find him.” I
promise, leaving before he can demand to accompany me. I would
rather meet with Bakura on my own.

Strangely enough, he wasn't hard to
find. But before I can step into the corridor and announce my
presence, he is shoved against the wall by the brunette, his hands
pinned above his head. I am still unsure as to the brunette's name,
though, and I determine to watch, as Malik said there was something
between the two.

“You've been quite the bitch
today, Bakura.” The brunette growls, his ice-blue eyes glaring
down at the struggling Bakura.

“Well, I'm in good company,
wouldn't you agree, Seto Kaiba?” Bakura hisses, and I realize
that the two people Otogi and Malik kept mentioning is actually the
same man.

“I doubt it, as no one else
summoned the Shadow Realm simply because they were feeling bitchy.”
Seto Kaiba responds. He continues, ignoring Bakura's snarl. “Where
is Mokuba, Bakura? And why don't you just return us home?”

Bakura goes limp so quickly, I almost
step into the hall before I realize what I am doing. “Mokuba
is fine, Seto. I would never hurt the kid, nor would I allow him to
be hurt.” Bakura's tone is soft, submissive almost, but there
is something beneath it, something hostile.

“Then just take us back. I'll
ignore this, if-”

Bakura's angered hiss and knee to Seto
Kaiba's groin has caught even me off-guard. “How dare you try
to control me? I allow you to control me in bed, but let me teach
you something. I'm no pet, nor am I a slave. You cannot control me.
Nor can you control your relationship with the Pharaoh, which is why
it is failing. Life is not going to bow to you, simply because you
are Seto Kaiba. And even should it decide to, I never will. I will
not be controlled any longer, especially not by a mere teenager who
cannot see the truth in front of his face.”

Seto Kaiba glares up at Bakura, who
steps away from the injured male. “Maybe you'll learn to think
about the lies you're being fed before demanding I bow to you.
Goodbye, Seto.” Bakura smirks coldly at him before holding up a
small, golden ring, the Ring, and placing it on his finger,
disappearing.

A/N: Yeesh, that took nine pages
written out...I'm slightly bitter now...
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