Chapter Text
The throne room is as grand as Yugi imagined it'd be - high ceilings, winding pillars, and walls bathed in light.
It is expansive enough to accept offerings and hosts feasts and casts judgments.
From his discrete scan upon entry, most – if not all – of the court is present.
They sit on either side of him, creating a path for him.
He is led toward the daïs.
He risks nothing more than a glimpse at the king who sits upon his throne, adorned in royal purple and white linens so fine, so sheer, the threads almost shimmer in the light.
It is not his throne though, but the gold that colors his skin and drips from every limb that makes the king immediately recognizable.
Yugi is deposited on the floor by the very soldiers who ambushed him on the streets outside his tiny, mud-brick abode.
There he stays, kneeling on the hard surface. The stone is cold where he rests his forehead against it.
“The rumors are true then,” the king speaks. His voice is deep; as bottomless as the Nile. Yugi imagined it must’ve come from the god residing within. “A child of Khonsu lives amongst us.”
“Given his complexion,” Yugi hears a member from the court comment, “it is a wonder it took the soldiers as long as it did to track him down.”
“Indeed.”
There is an unnatural pause, and Yugi can feel eyes sweeping over his form, assessing him. He tries not to shift under the burdensome weight of the king’s gaze.
“Sit up.” When Yugi obliges, the king’s voice comes again. "Tell me your name.”
“Yugi, my lord,” he says quietly. His eyes focus on his hands in his lap. The shendyt he wears is threadbare at the edges, well-worn, and he feels rather exposed – small and insignificant in the presence of the Living Horus.
“Why would you not alert the Great House to your arrival?”
“I did not think it necessary.”
“You did not think it necessary to inform your king of your presence in his city?”
Yugi closed his eyes. He inhaled a silent, steady breath. “I only meant that I did not wish to make a nuisance of myself. I had no intention of seeking out special privileges or positions due to the circumstances of my birth. My only desire is to lead a quiet life here." He allows himself a moment to catch his next breath, but it’s heavy in his throat. “I must insist that you allow me to return – “
“You insist?”
The resounding silence of the court deafens Yugi.
His fingers clench tight in the thin fabric of his shendyt. Behind his lids, he can see a deep frown marring his father’s face, admonishing him yet again for allowing his heart to speak in his head’s stead.
But then he thinks of his mother – his dear, sweet mother who died so very long ago.
Thinks of how she used to call him her little tide; of how she used to hold him in her warm embrace and simply accept that he was swayed by his emotions in the same manner the oceans were swayed by the moon.
It was not his most endearing quality.
“If you were anyone else,” the king intones, the baritone of his voice resonating in the space between them, “then your head would be decorating the palace walls.”
Yugi lowers his head further, his chin dipping to his chest. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
“You've done nothing to warrant my forgiveness,” the king says, dismissing him. “Fortunately, you will not need it to perform your duties. I expect – “
“But Your Majesty, I – "
Yugi bites down on his tongue hard.
It’s not the blood in his mouth, but the contempt radiating off the king at his interruption that overwhelms his senses. His eyes are affixed to his lap, but he can hear the shift the moment the king rises from his throne.
Footsteps draw toward him, steady with intent.
Yugi resists the primal instinct to look up and analyze the impending danger - or to flee.
He waits instead, still.
He flinches a moment later, when a hand curls around his jaw.
Nails dig into the bone as the king forces his chin up.
Before him, in all his glory, in his magnificent splendor, is the King of Upper and Lower Kemet, the son of Re, the living embodiment of the God Horus. His golden hair is but an extension of the crown that sits atop his head.
His irises are the color of fire.
They sear into his soul when their eyes meet.
“One more outburst, demigod,” the rage in the king’s voice is palpable, “and I will risk Khonsu’s wrath.”
Yugi opens his mouth to apologize again.
The sharpened lines of the king’s eyes narrow further when his lips part.
So, he says nothing.
A few tense seconds later, the slender fingers at his jaw release him. It stings where the king cut through superficial layers of skin. The pain serves as a marker, reminding Yugi of exactly where the king touched him.
His gaze immediately returns to his hands. A heat rises high in his throat, and it persists even when he swallows.
“Priestess,” the king summons once he returns to the throne. Yugi catches movement in his peripheral. “He will serve as your apprentice. Take him to the healing chambers. Perhaps he’ll learn a modicum of proper decorum while under your instruction.” A heavy pause. “For his own sake.”
Long, elegant robes fall within Yugi’s field of vision. “As you wish it, per ʿaa,” the priestess acknowledges. A river of black hair shifts over the length of her back when she bows.
Even with an averted gaze, Yugi registers the moment she beckons him.
Every muscle in his body is taut with tension as he rises from the floor. The heat in his throat extends to his eyes, and they burn with fear and fury.
“Come, Moon Child,” the priestess murmurs. “Make haste.”
There is the slightest trace of urgency in her voice, a near imperceptible hint of concern. He follows her steps as she leads him out of the room and into the halls, away from the burning gaze of the king.
Out of sight, Yugi inhales a shuddering breath, and the tears hot in his eyes finally find release, rolling down his cheeks.
The priestess regards him quietly - a compassion that is edged with awe. “It will be alright,” she assures him after a minute of silence.
Yugi isn’t sure it will be, but he has to hope.
He wipes at his face, brushing his fingers and palms over his cheeks. His tears shimmer a luminescent white on his hands.
It takes until they reach the healing chambers for the glowing remnants to fade from his skin.