Author's Note:

Alright I have discovered several surprising things since my last chapter.

First surprise. I have discovered that I have been mis-spelling Lapis Lazuli since the very beginning. (Not surprised really) However, I shall continue to mis-spell it for consistency. Take that, English language. I defy thee.

Surprise the second. Due to plot and continuation of the story, I am having to write a second citrus chapter. (Fairly surprised.) The main reason is because I refuse for Atem to remain a virgin where Bakura has bedded and slaughtered eight (that we know of. Bakura may be a man-whore and bedded more but my official tally is eight so far.) dancing/brothel girls.

And, finally, episode 3: The return of the Surprise. I was researching Atem's name and discovered this little snippet... 'Even the gods had sex in ancient Egypt. Ra (in the form of Atem) masturbated his children Shu and Tefnut into existence! (Jaw hit the floor in surprise. Ewwww, Atem!)

Atem is he who masturbated in Iunu (On, Heliopolis). He took his phallus in his grasp that he might create orgasm by means of it, and so were born the twins Shu and Tefnut.'

-- Pyramid Text 1248-49

Weirdness. O-o

Everyone seems to want a wedding... Well, let us see what happens. I'm in a compromising mood...

Disclaimer:

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I wish I did... but I do not...

Lapis Luzali.

Chapter. 8: An Apprentice's Offering.

It was in the darkness before the dawn that the Priestess Isis bathed in the cool waters of the pool in the Palace gardens. Often she rose before the Gods themselves to bathe, enjoying the stillness that would remain for a few hours yet. Removing her robe, Isis gracefully lowered herself into the bitter waters without uttering so much as a squeak against the bite.

Her eyes slid shut and she smiled softly. 'It is so peaceful,' Cupping the chill pellets in her hands, she dribbled the liquid down her upper arms and breasts. 'So beautiful. How this land of Egypt should be... before the Disc of Ra ascends and spills his golden seed upon her. Exposing the wounds that our petty lives have inflicted her with.'

The Priestess struck out. Her strokes graceful and silent, not even her own ears caught the sound of the waters whispers against her skin. Reaching the far bank, Isis rolled, then paused. The light was strong enough now for her to make out every detail of the young woman, whom she loved as a sister, standing on the opposing shore. Arms folded over her chest, and her eyes of burning green downcast in a sign of respect for the bathing Priestess.

"Good morning, Mana. May Hathor love you for all of your days."

"And may Hathor love you also, my Lady." The words were strained.

Isis chuckled softly. "You need not be so formal Mana," She slid through the waters with the ease of a fish. As she neared the bank, Isis frowned. There was something the matter, it was obvious on the young woman's face. "What is it?"

The apprentice shook her head, attempting to dismiss her concerns. "It is nothing. I... I am not even sure why I have come here. I can not sleep. And when I do, He dominates my dreams. I can see him... Hear him... Taste him, and it frightens me."

Isis lifted herself from the pool and gathered her robe from the ground. Slipping it over her head to cover her still wet form, she tied the thick golden cord around her tapered waist, drawing the shapeless material to fit her curves. Eying the younger woman carefully as she continued.

"He made a vow to me. A vow and a threat..."

Isis cocked her brow. "A threat..?" She remembered Mana telling her of the vow Pharaoh had pledged to her after unintentionally breaking her maidenhead. But a threat...? Pharaoh would not threaten her... "He threatened you?"

"He said he would return to me. He has been searching for a vessel in which to plant his seed..."

Isis shook her head. She was confused. Mana's words were so vague to the story she already knew. Placing her hands on the girls shoulders, Isis maneuvered her so she stood directly in front of her. "He said he would return to you? To plant his seed..? He has sworn to correct his error, Mana. Not to complicate it further. Pharaoh wou-"

Mana's eyes widened in horror. "No! Not Tem... Not Pharaoh." she caught herself before calling Atem by the pet name that only she addressed him by. "Someone else." she murmured.

Isis sighed. They were running in circles. Chasing the tail of the conversation. "Who?"

Mana just stared at the older woman. Tears formed in her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. "You would not believe me, even if I were to tell you his name." She mumbled miserably. "So it does not matter." Idly, the young apprentice fingered the golden Hathor pendent around her throat. Conflict between her fears and her wants clouded her eyes, dulling the usually shining green. "The only one who would believe me, I can not tell."

Finally after what seemed like hours, though it was probably only minutes, of silence that passed between them, Mana glanced up at the Priestess and gave a tiny, tired smile. "No one ever warned me that this would be so hard." The smile was fleeting and was quickly replaced by the somber expression of one who had learned; just how cruel the world could be, far too swiftly in their short life. Her fingers continued to fondle the golden cow head as her eyes fell and slid from Isis's gaze, as though she were puzzling something out for herself.

Somewhere in the distant corner of the Palace gardens, a rooster crowed.

"Is there a way...?"

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Atem roused himself slowly. He contemplated simply turning over and attempting to fall sleep again... His lids pressed themselves together once more and his mind drifted...

"Always were the sentimental fool, weren't you Atem?" He cast a cautious glance from left to right at the guards on ether side. Their hands on hilts. His lip curled. "Always looking for the good in the actions of those you love."

He spun on his heel as he reached into his robe. Spinning a complete circle, his arms spread wide. Atem stared blankly, almost hypnotized by the grace and feline elegance the thief possessed. Barely aware when he stopped turning. He blinked hard, once. Breaking free from his trance and noticing the short sword in Bakura's hand for the first time, he must have pulled it during the spin, the fire-hardened tip pointing downwards, crimson smeared the blade.

Jerking his head sharply, he stared in horror at the two guards. They clawed at their throats, pink tinted blood bubbles gurgled through the torn flesh before their eyes rolled back into their skulls and they crumpled to the ground, twitching.

"Tell me Pharaoh. Could you find something worth defending in that action?"

Before the shock had lifted from either his or his two priests minds, Bakura's face was inches from his own. He was so fast, he hadn't even seen him move. Then Atem was aware of the searing pain racing through his arms and across his shoulders. Glancing down, he saw why they hurt and why Bakura's snarling face was so close to his. The thief was standing on his wrists, pinning them painfully to the armrests.

With a bellow of pain and outrage, Atem struggled violently. Until the sharp, blood-stained sword tip slid under his chin. Lifting Pharaoh's head and skewering his glare with his own, Bakura felt a surge of triumph shudder through him. Atem flinched beneath that predatory gaze.

"You really are a murderer, aren't you?" he breathed in a rhetorical question. "You've sold your soul to Mafdet."

Bakura shook his head and tutted in self-mockery, his face almost playful. Then it hardened again. "So has all of Egypt!" He whipped his wrist up and the blade bit into the flesh on Atem's chin, slicing it open.

"Oh dear... I've cut you." his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What a pity."

Pharaoh clawed at his blankets and fought to break free of the dreams hold. He didn't want to re-live this. He wanted Bakura to still be dead in his mind...

Blood dribbled from the split, down his throat and stained his bleached white tunic. "You murdered the innocent. You face the death penalty."

He grinned. "Do I now?"

"Justice must be done!"

"Justice!?" Bakura snarled bitterly. "You would have me murdered for executing those who murdered innocents of my village? Be it wittingly or unwittingly."

"I would have you executed for murdering the innocents." Atem corrected.

Bakura growled in frustration and jammed his elbow into his collar. "Execution is murder. Murder is execution. It is a double-edged blade. No matter the side you are on, there is another on the other. Tell me Pharaoh, are my actions so very different from yours? You execute those who do harm to your people, as I do so for mine. So surely we both seek justice."

In his own perverse way. The thief was right. His actions were very much the same as those of his and every Pharaoh before him. Atem fought harder to awaken, but the dream had such a hold of him for a reason. Something he had to see... Had to know... And until then, it would not relinquish its grasp.

He pushed his face closer to Atem's, and the Pharaoh could see something dimming Bakura's eyes. He took in every twitch and tremble of the thief's body, and he misinterpreted it as somewhere, beneath the rage and hurt, his old playmate existed still. "You are not thinking straight, my friend-" he paused abruptly. Bakura shook his head vigorously, as though there was water lodged deep in his ear canal.

"Oh, but I am. And I see right through your pathetic attempt of appeal to my better side."

Atem's face hardened again. "You have killed and killed again." he breathed, his voice dangerously low.

" How many have been killed for you to sit where you do? How many more will die for you to remain there?" Bakura snatched the pendent around Atem's neck and pushed it under his nose. "How many souls have been denied their rightful passage to the afterlife to make this gold? Answer me this Pharaoh!"

He fell quiet. Refusing to even look at the thief.

"I can still hear them. Still hear the death screams of every man, woman and child of Kul Elna. It haunts my dreams." He narrowed his eyes to slits and raised his sword over his head. "One more voice added to the choir won't make much of a difference."

That was it.

His eyes burst open and Atem bolted upright. The shaking of Bakura's head, he had continued the actions throughout the whole attack. Closing his eyes he pinched the sleep from the corners. There had to be a reason for it...

He stretched to his full length along the couch, splaying even his fingers and toes, relishing in every pop and crack his body emitted. Then he slid from beneath the blankets and padded toward the dozing slave in the corner, slight surprise marred his features, 'Since when has a servant taken terminate residence in my chambers?' Standing before her, Atem cleared his throat.

The woman squeaked and started to her feet, lifting her gaze to his before adverting her eyes in respect. "Excuse my intrusion my Pharaoh. Lord Seto sent me to fetch you, but you were sleeping and... and," she threw herself at his bare feet. "Forgive me Majesty. Lord Seto said I was not to return without you."

Atem stepped back. "You will take a message to Lord Seto," he told the woman sternly as she scrambled to her feet. "Tell him, Pharaoh will rise, when he is ready. Pharaoh will address a Priest, when he is ready. A Priest should know his place and that is at the side of Pharaoh and not ahead. If he wishes to speak with me, he should come to me when I am seated upon the throne and not when I am sleeping."

The servant nodded and stood there, waiting to be dismissed. With a wave of his hand, Atem turned away and the woman scuttled swiftly away. He growled a sigh as he snatched his kilt from the stool and hoisted it over his hips, his mind returning to his dream. What did it mean?

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Mana was distracted.

The marks on the papyrus scrolls stopped making sense to her a while back now and she was just staring at them out of habit. Mahado frowned at his student, she had been so withdrawn and quiet lately. He had noticed the shift in her personality since before Isis informed of the girls interest in the Pharaoh. Though he did not know the whole story, he felt Isis had glossed over a few details, he understood something had gone terribly wrong.

Perhaps the young woman would open up to him.

"Mana,"

She blinked and wrinkled her nose, before going back to her scrolls.

He sighed. She hadn't heard him. "Mana." He tried again, this time a little louder. The apprentice lifted her head and stared at him. "Master?"

Mahado sidled closer to her. "Is everything alright? You seem a little unfocused." He waved his hand over the scroll she had been studying. "You have been reading the same passage for some time now. Do you feel ready to attempt it?"

She blinked hard at the hieroglyphs and frowned, they looked vaguely familiar and the spell seemed simple enough. Her lips moved soundlessly over the words, testing the feel of each syllable on her tongue before shrugging. She took a breath then began to recite the spell. Finishing the chant, she cracked an eye... Nothing.

Mahado shook his head. "A mis-cast." He took the scroll from her and set it carefully aside before kneeling. "It it a simple spell Mana, one you have cast many times before." His ice blue eyes softened. "Something is bothering you and it is effecting your lessons. I may be your Master but I am still your friend." An edge of concern crept into his voice.

Mana remained silent, just staring of into the middle distance with unfocused eyes. Then a forced smile touched her lips. "I am fine, Master. Just feeling a little drained."

Mahado nodded. She wouldn't say anymore without persuasion and he had no idea how to proceed. He was not comfortable in these sorts of situations, coaxing someone to speak when they were quite obviously not interested in doing so. "It is quite understandable. You have had a trying few days. Would you like to rest? We can continue these lessons at a later stage."

Mana nodded and rose stiffly. She took one step forward, toward Mahado and opened her mouth to speak. Then she paused and turned on her heel, walking from the Magus's chambers. Mahado sighed softly and idly touched the Millennium Ring around his neck. He had a very bad feeling that with Bakura seemingly returning from the dead and the slaughtered Sand Wanderer Tribe, Egypt was on the cusp of one of the mightiest battles she had ever known.

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Atem snarled softly in frustration as he stalked through the darkened corridors. He felt physically and emotionally drained. Siamun had confirmed his suspicions that Bakura's spasms and twitches during his attack indicated something had been administered to him and because of the concentration of head shaking, Siamun believed that to be the point of administration. Together, both Pharaoh and Vizier had spent the whole day researching the scrolls of potions and draughts and discovered an elixir that matched the few key points that they had gathered.

The Elixir of Anubis...

Administered through the ear canal, the elixir brought on the appearance of death, though left to ferment too long in the body and it would kill. The erratic movement must have been the thief's attempts to slow the effects. But the very notion that Bakura was able to mix such a dangerous and precise potion astounded him. And disturbed him.

He rounded into his quarters and paused abruptly...

... Someone was in here.

He squinted through the darkness and could barely make out a woman's profile in the shadows. He had forgotten about his Priests summons, and he growled. Lord Seto, obviously angry at the Pharaoh's snub, had ignored his message and sent the servant girl back.

Atem tore his tunic over his head and flung it to the floor. He was in no mood for this. "Leave. Now!" He fumbled with the golden cuffs around his wrists and they swiftly joined his discarded tunic on the floor. The woman had ignored his order, but he could now tell she was watching him. Atem couldn't help it, his temper snapped. Spinning to glare through the darkness at the woman, he snarled coldly. "I have issued you with an order, or are you so simple that you cannot understand that as you seem unable to understand-"

He balked. The woman stood directly in front of him now. She had moved during his rage and was pressing her lips to his, breaking his rant in mid-sentence. He trembled in outrage. 'How dare she!? A servant-' He paused. The shy touch, he recognized it. Lifting his tongue, he coaxed her lips to part. Carefully he invaded her mouth, tasted her, and shuddered.

Breaking away, Atem carefully lifted his hand and traced his fingers over her features. "Mana..?" He heard her open her mouth to speak, deciding there and then words would destroy what they had just shared Atem lunged, capturing her lips once more. He had missed her so much. Missed this.

Mana raised her hands to his chest, running her fingers to his shoulders and pushed. He blinked in surprise, peering through the darkness at her as he obeyed and stepped back. She turned her back to him and began to walk away. "Do not go. Forgive me. Just..." He cursed himself. His voice sounded so pathetic to his own ears, but she was walking away from him again. "... Do not leave me again. Please."

"I am not going far, Temmy. I will return."

He jerked his head back. Temmy. She called him Temmy, like she used to. His stomach churned with excitement and fear. Had she forgiven him?

True to her word, Mana returned. In her hand she held an oil lamp, it's flame throwing out a soft glow over her. Padding closer she carefully lowered it onto the chest that stood alongside his couch. And returned to face him.

Atem cocked his head in confusion, watching the shadows rise and fall against her face. Her lashes were lowered and there was a definite tint to her cheeks. "Mana..?"

"I have something that I wish to give to you." She murmured and lifted her eyes to meet his and slowly raised her hands behind her neck. Bowing her head down as she lifted her golden pendent from her neck. Atem swallowed awkwardly. Mana held the delicate talisman out to him and smiled. "I want you to have this. You are meant to have it."

"But," Atem croaked and lifted the item from her hands. "But this is proof of your womanhood. Hathor watches over women and enables your fertility. She symbolizes motherhood-"

"I am aware of that. My giving this to you, means I place my womanhood in your hands. I have had time to think about what happened that day Temmy. And I now know just how foolish my actions were. I ran away. Frightened, because I thought what we had done was wrong. I know better now. I offer my womanhood to you, if you would still accept it."

Atem stared at her, his mouth falling open. He willed the words that he wanted to say from his mind but his lips and tongue refused. The silence dragged on longer still and Mana's confidence wavered. Her head fell forward to her chest. "I understand."

The apprentice raised her hand to pluck her necklace from Atem's hand but his fingers closed around it. Lifting her head, Mana stared at her Pharaoh in confusion. Then he pulled her hard into him, his mouth closing around hers once more. His hand moved from her fingers and snaked around her back, his other slid to her hip and cupped her. Breaking the kiss, Atem rested his forehead against hers. "I accept."

Mana had a sudden notion to laugh at that. Comparing the emotionless, flat answer to the passion and ferocity in his kiss was like comparing the harsh desert drought to annual flood of the Niles waters. Both were complete opposites of the other. She lifted her head and pressed her face into his throat, murmuring and moving her body softly against his.

Atem's eyes flew open. "Mana," he tried to gently push her away. "I gave you my promise that I would undo what I did to you. I cannot-"

"I release you from that promise." Her voice was soft and she lifted her face to his. "Please, Temmy." Her lips quivered as though she were on the verge of tears. Her hands slid lower to his belly, circling her fingers slowly around his belly-button. She leaned and captured his lips again, her tongue mimicking her fingers actions. He moaned softly and tried to arch away from her as he felt his loins swell and stiffen, trying to hide it from her. Mana made a soft sound, forbidding him from avoiding her and pulled aside his kilt, reaching inside to find and capture him.

He moaned again and shuddered as she allowed his kilt to fall away, and surrendered to her touch as she stroked him. His own fingers fumbled with the knot of her skirts at her hip, furious when the thing denied him what he desired. With a growl against her lips, he raked his nails into the tied cloth, snagging the material and pulling. It fell away and his hands immediately reached for her rear, enclosing one buttock in each, and he marvelled at their firm softness. Atem's lips moved to Mana's throat and he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back until her calves hit the couch. His mouth quirked as he leaned and toppled them onto the cushions, her thighs spread to accommodate him between them. As his mouth moved on her throat, Mana was aware of his hand cupping around her breast. She cried out softly as his fingers stroked and tugged at her through the tunic.

Then it moved. His hand was slowly making its way down her body, over her ribs and belly, and moving lower still. She whimpered as the fingers tickled over her hip and inner thigh, and then it was gone. He shifted onto his knees. Creeping closer so his face hovered over hers. Eyes half-lidded and his lips pursed slightly. She could feel him resting upon the slight mound between her thighs. His fingers brushed against her absently as he moved to grip himself at the base, preparing himself.

Leaning down her, Atem gently touched his lips to her forehead. She was trembling. "We can stop now if you are not ready." He offered, stroking the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Mana swallowed, and shook her head. His heart went out to her for her bravery. Lifting himself from resting upon her, her lowered his hips so that his tip just parted her.

A sudden whimper bubbled from her lips and he paused. Threading his free arm beneath her head, Atem murmured softly. "I promise. I won't hurt you." His lips brushed hers as she felt him move again. She managed to hold back her cries as he slid deeper until she felt something pull inside her.

He froze. Something was blocking his path. Something that should not be there. Glancing down the space between them, his eyes widened with surprise and uncertainty, Atem breathed. "Your maidenhead... I did not break it before." He shuddered, his body was urging him on. Telling him to bury himself fully and just take her. Fighting it proved to be extremely difficult. Lifting his head back to Mana's, the fear and conflict broiled in his crimson orbs. "Do... Do you still want me to?"

Tears dotted her cheeks, and glistened where her lashes trapped them. "Yes." she whimpered. "Do it. Please."

He pulled back slightly, took a deep breath to steady his nerves and...

...She arched beneath him. A hiss against the sting, and then the wonderful feeling of fullness. The pain was fleeting, giving way to other, more pleasant feelings. Lowering himself onto her, Atem nuzzled at her shoulder, murmuring his apologies. Surprised to find her tunic was still in place. He lifted his body from hers, but keeping them joined, he gently tugged the tunic from her. Her thighs automatically lifted, wrapping her legs about his hips so her heels hooked into his rear and held him close. Glancing down at her, he noticed he could see what he was doing. He gave an experimental thrust.

She whimpered.

A smile tugged at his lips. He lay one hand over the curve in her pelvis, spanning his fingers and slipping his thumb over a tiny nub of flesh, ready to aid him in pleasing her, should he need it. His other cupped her hip. Pulling himself deeper into her. From the sounds she was making and the way her fingers clawed, she was enjoying herself as much as he was. And, to his delight, she began meeting him thrust for thrust.

Before too long, Atem felt a ball of pressure building from his loins and spreading round to the small of his back, and suddenly, watching himself disappearing into her wasn't so important anymore. He wanted to be close to her. Laying back down he drove harder, his lips pressing to her throat. His breathing as erratic and laboured as hers as the pressure grew to an almost unbearable strength. His lids slammed shut and his mouth opened in a soft howl as wave after wave of languid warmth enveloped him. His whole body shuddered with the release and Mana returned his cry with one of her own as she spasmed beneath him.

With arms that felt like jelly and legs that felt like marble, Atem managed to maneuver himself so he could collapsed beside her rather than squashing her beneath him. Mana turned to face him. A soft smile and half-lidded eyes rolled to meet her. He looked exhausted but content. Lifting his arm so she could cuddle close to him, he hummed softly against her forehead.

"M'na..." he mumbled, too lazy to lift his head fully from the cushion he had fallen on and was currently muffling his words.

"Mmmh?" She was feeling too lazy for actual words.

"M'st speak... with Is's t'morrow." he sighed and pulled her closer. "M'st organ'ze a more permi'ate... arrangement for you h're."

"Mmmm."

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Arrrrrgh! Stupid chapter. Took me forever to write. AND then the bloody computer decided to freeze on me... THRICE (3 times)!! I lost (in effect) the whole chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. And I did warn of Lemon, and boy was it lemony...

And aha. Atem didn't break her maiden head in an earlier chapter, it was just a smear of blood indicating he had damaged it slightly, but he's cute when he freaks out. It was plotted from then. And no, Mana is not running from Atem to Bakura and back again. She had a chat with Isis in the start (I didn't write the whole conversation, I couldn't bare to write it three times!!) and they sorted out the issues between Atem and Mana, (though Mana is hiding Bakura's threat from Atem...)

Anyway's

Read and Review.

Stay Smexy.

xXx