The Moon Over Egypt | By : Firewing Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > General Views: 936 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The Moon Over Egypt
A/N: This is set during the time period When Pegasus would have been doing research in Egypt for the duel monsters game. To those of you who are familiar with I Know You’re Out There Somewhere, I wrote this as sort of an AU to that story, but I’ve tried to make it so that it stands alone as a separate fic. The challenge I gave myself was to write Pegasus as a madman…in a not so fluffy sense. This is as evil as I will ever make him. Oh yeah, the story is from Croquet’s POV. Christopher is not Croquet’s official first name (who knows if he even has one?). I chose it because I liked how it sounded with his last name. Pegasus Island has yet to be renamed Duelist Kingdom in this timeline.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any legal rights to Yugioh.
*****
Love was a whimsy better suited to those like Maximillion Pegasus who dreamed their fragile dreams and lived in medieval castles, Croquet thought as he trudged across the sands to a canvas tent and started his morning chores.
It had been six years since his boss had lost his wife to a mysterious illness, six years since the Millennium Eye had taken the place of Pegasus’ real one, and six years since Croquet had willingly returned to his master‘s service.
Of course, Pegasus was a man obsessed. His current obsession involved Egyptian archeology, artifacts, and lore. His new gaming company, the cards it manufactured, even the few paintings he had done for them, and all of his philanthropic research came back to one single inspiration. Her image graced virtually every chamber of Castle Pegasus as if anyone who had ever met Cecelia would likely forget her quickly or at all. Croquet himself had been smitten by the earth angel who was taken from them all too soon.
No one would ever mistake Pegasus for an angel. A glorious and tempestuous demon capable of unleashing a plague upon the world was by far a more fitting description. Perhaps only Croquet, who had known him for over twenty years and loved him from the first moment he laid eyes on the androgynous beauty, had the compassion to overlook the man’s corrupted heart. Pegasus’ only desire was to resurrect his one true love and he would let nothing stand in his way.
Max was a rare breed, a nearly mythological one, in a world of constantly changing dance partners. He lived in a fantasy believing that love was eternal and did not succumb to the grave. No one else would ever live up to the ideal of his tragically lost queen.
Equally tragic was Christopher Croquet’s love for the man. He had followed Max that morning unobserved to an outcropping of rock where his master chose to watch the sunrise. The sun adored the mere mortal reflecting its light off of him the way it would have had Maximillion been the moon. In that single moment, Chris could not bear the love he felt. It was too much, too heavy a burden for even the strongest man to bear and he had to leave his master to his morning ritual.
He had no illusions that Max would ever love him back. All he could do was stand, wait, watch, and listen. Condemned by his own heart to live his life vicariously through the life of his own true love.
He was tired of wind and sand, fiery sunlight, and the wrath of his vengeful master. They were camped in the middle of nowhere in Egypt on the edge of an archeological dig. There had been a new discovery made of stone tablets depicting elaborately carved monsters unlike any ever seen in this modern day and age. And Pegasus, having funded the search, had to be on location. He was close to completing the first series of duel monsters cards. A few tents had been set up in a random pattern and among the trucks and land rovers were two or three campers and a motor home. Even under the most primitive conditions one could hardly expect Max to rough it with everyone else.
The long days drained Croquet’s energy and perfectionist dedication to detail. Today was especially difficult. Had he been on the island, he could have run off his restless energy. But here it was often an effort just to breathe, let alone consider breathing and running at the same time. He went through the motions of another mind bogglingly boring day with all the enthusiasm of a robot.
When the sun finally went down it was a relief. As Pegasus poured over a variety of documents late into the night, Croquet went to see if there was anything else Max required before he turned in.
“No, Croquet. I think not.” Pegasus answered him dismissively and with great irritation.
Before Chris’ carefully thought out decision to resign after Max and Cecelia had married, Pegasus had always addressed him as Christopher or Chris. However, after her death and Pegasus’ request that he consider returning to Pegasus Island and his former position, Max simply called him Croquet. He made it quite clear that Chris was a mere servant and that he felt betrayed by his extended leave of absence. There was so much that had never been said between them, so much that could not be said. One thing was certain though; they would never again be friends.
Croquet turned to go just as Pegasus raised his hand to halt him. “Actually, Croquet, there is something I require. An explanation.”
“Sir?” Behind the silver curtain there was a flash of gold. Croquet hated the Millennium Eye and all the loss it represented.
“You have not been performing your duties with your normal efficiency. Your work is adequate, but not up to par with what I have come to expect.” His tone was that of a well-bred gentleman, but that was insufficient to cover the chilling ire beneath it.
Unbidden, the image of Pegasus as a pagan god at sunrise came to Croquet with all of the complex emotions that the moment had engendered. Pegasus had always been gifted with extrasensory abilities and Croquet instinctively knew that the Millennium Eye was more than a gold orb. The expression of disgusted loathing on Max’s face told him plainly that his master perceived both the image and the related feelings. Chris was at a loss for a response and simply waited for Max’s reaction.
He responded to Croquet’s dilemma with laughter, a harsh vindictive laugh that bordered on a madness emanating from an innocence that had self-destructed into evil. “You’re in love with me. How preposterous!”
“You’ll have my resignation in the morning, Sir.” Croquet promised, falling back on his stoicism.
Pegasus stood abruptly. The documents he’d been reading scattered and fell carelessly to the floor. His master seemed to tower over him although they were nearly equals in height. A sinister power radiated from the man and he seemed inhumanly strong as one elegant hand closed over Chris’ throat nearly crushing the older man’s windpipe. He struggled to breathe and tried unsuccessfully to break free.
“You’ll resign when I say you can, Croquet,” Pegasus ordered coldly, “Or I’ll see to it you find yourself in an early grave.”
Idle threats were not something Pegasus ever made. He made vows and he didn’t break them. Yet Croquet was more afraid of his own traitorous heart than he would ever be of Maximillion.
“I will never love you.” The moon silver haired man continued and then crushed his mouth to his bodyguard’s forcing it open and biting the other man’s tongue.
He then pulled Croquet around and while he was off-balance, Pegasus slipped a foot behind the other man’s and pushed him down. He kicked Chris with the force of his fury and the blow connected with his crotch.
Croquet was too incapacitated to be able to defend himself and merely rolled into a fetal position as his master continued to kick his unprotected back savagely. Once he regained the ability to think coherently he managed to thrust his legs out in a scissor kick and bring the madman down to his level. He moved as quickly as possible, overpowering Max and pinning him to the floor. A coppery taste filled his mouth and he spit the bloody substance from his bitten tongue out on the floor beside Max’s head. A little of it ended up on the immaculate silver mane and for a split second Croquet contemplated the sin of soiling his master’s tresses and all that might imply. Max took advantage of the distraction and with a huge effort he pushed Chris away and rolled out from under him. Caught off-guard once again, Chris hit his head on the narrow edge of the table and blacked out.
******
When he woke again it was to the single-eyed stare of a full moon and the gritty taste of sand in his mouth wearing only his shredded and bloodied boxers. Croquet struggled to get to his feet. He could barely move as a result of the pain shooting up through his spine. His swollen tongue felt far too large for his parched mouth and his back stung as if a horde of angry locusts had attacked him while he lay unconscious in the sand.
He managed to get to his tent and rummage through the footlocker for a few clothes and toiletries without disturbing the other two members of his security team and made his way to the showers. The makeshift lavatory sported a large mirror over a bench and, although Chris had little desire to do so, he had to check himself over for any visible signs of his violent encounter with Pegasus. First and foremost, he had a duty to protect the man who had done this to him. He had a few dark bruises on his lower rib cage that traveled to his back and several deeply raked scratches running from his shoulders to his waist from the perfectly manicured fingernails of his master, but nothing anyone would notice unless he took his shirt off.
Croquet took a lukewarm shower, as that was the only temperature water came in the desert, scrubbed, rinsed, and scrubbed again. When his skin was as raw as his heart, he finally stopped and leaned against the wall, weak and exhausted. The sun was rising. Others would be coming in soon to go through their morning rituals even as Pegasus went to greet the sun. Croquet could not be found in this state and he dare not show any sign of weakness or vulnerability. He would not have a moment to himself for several hours and there was always a great deal of tedious work to be done. In fact, he had to do it very well, because slacking off had gotten him in this condition in the first place. He pulled himself together and went to face his nightmare of a day.
A lesser man might have sought refuge in suicide, but Croquet merely endured the pain and humiliation he had suffered at his master’s hands. For several weeks it was business as usual. Croquet consoled himself by laying blame for Max’s actions on the damnable Millennium Eye and came to forgive the unforgivable crime as he met his master’s anger and anguish with steadfast loyalty and love.
A month later, under another full moon, it was Pegasus who sought Croquet out in Cairo at the Pharaoh’s Palace hotel and casino. The man was bored and irritated having had too much wine and too much good ’luck’ at the casino that had resulted in a tedious discussion with the hotel’s owner on the subject of gambling ethics. Or to put it another way, the owner had accused Pegasus of cheating, although not in so many words and frankly Croquet wasn’t quite sure what to consider using an ancient magical artifact to read minds so as to win a game other than cheating…
So Croquet sat quietly in his armchair while Pegasus ranted on and on, laying out one perfect strategy after another for a successful takeover of the establishment at which, oddly enough, they were still residents of. Croquet was feeling understandably defensive. His concern came from a natural self-preservation instinct. He was now better prepared to react to any aggressive moves on Pegasus’ part. Chris would not harm the man whose life he’d sworn to protect, but he would not allow his boss to misuse him again either.
Pegasus must have sensed the resolve in the other man for suddenly he became quiet and stared at Chris, as though he had appeared out of thin air.
“You really do love me.” Pegasus stated in astonishment.
“Yes.” Croquet admitted.
“How can you after the things I’ve done?”
Croquet shrugged, “I’ve forgiven you.”
Chris fully expected Max to be as darkly amused by this simple confession as he had been a month ago on the night he’d become a rapist. Instead Pegasus knelt beside him. “Christopher…” He said softly as if he were trying out a new word in a language he’d only begun to learn. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me, including you. I’ve become quite embittered by my grief. I do not deserve forgiveness. Yet as you are willing to offer it, I will humbly and gratefully accept it. You are the only person willing to look past my rather numerous faults and still remain at my side. I am so sorry for what I have done to you. I would be lost without you…”
“Max, get up and shut up. Humility does nothing for you.” Croquet said shortly.
Pegasus nodded and rose and Croquet also stood. For a moment they faced each other in silence with an unfulfilling emptiness stretching out between them. Finally, Pegasus spoke again, “I don’t want to spend my life alone.”
Croquet sighed and drew his master close with a light touch on the man’s shoulders. “You haven’t and you won’t.”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo