So here you go, the sequel to Monkshood and Gloxinia, part two in what I am dubbed as my Southern Oaks Trilogy. Have fun, tell me what you think, all the usual stuff.

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of the Yu-Gi-Oh! and Yu-Gi-Oh! GX anime. No copyright infringement is intended.

Historical Notes: The battle of Rochester took place during King Alfred's reign of Wessex, a country that comprised of the majority of the southern part of the main British isle. Kent was a separate country located on the east edge of the isle.

The age to enlist during the American Civil War has been listed as at least eighteen, with eighteen to twenty-year-olds needing parental permission. The First Battle of Bull Run (Manassas) took place, literally, in Wilmer McLean's front yard. He would later move his family, and ironically enough in this new house it would be in the parlor that the surrender took place.

Egypt—2025 B.C.

Dying hadn't been what she expected. As she was freed from her earth-bound body and the white dragon that had been gathering power inside of her this incarnation was sealed into a tablet, her knowledge of what has been and was going to be came into perspective again. She knew that this wasn't going to be the last she saw of her beloved, though his name wouldn't be the same again and the odds of him having blonde hair the next incarnation were fairly high (as were they for her). In a way, they had been lucky this time. They had a chance to know each other, to fall in love. So many times, their paths never crossed, they never met before one of them died. Or they only saw each other once and Fate kept them apart. But those weren't the worst… No, the worst was when they were allowed to be together, for such a short time. She wondered when it was finally going to be their chance…

Watching him hold her body before the tablet, she wished she could touch his face one last time. That she could tell him that everything would work out, even if she didn't hardly believe it herself sometimes.

"Kisara, it's time."

The soft voice called her to the place of rest, as she thought of it, where she would wait for her chance to be born again. She paused only briefly, and spoke even though she knew none of them could hear her. "When the pharaoh's destiny is through…" It was the promise made to them both by the weavers of time. Once the game had been played, once their roles were fulfilled, they would have their chance… Until then, the cycle would continue. She faded away, to wait for the next life and the inevitable mourning that was to come.

Small village outside of Rochester, Kent, 885

She stood there, waiting. Brun would come back. Her heart told her so. He had gone to protect the village, leaving her at the farm. Ellette hadn't exactly liked it, but she had nodded her head and done the duty of a good wife. She saw to the animals and the crops to the best of her ability. She kept an eye out for warriors, people who didn't belong, so she could run, like she promised Brun she would. The only warriors she saw had gave her hope, raised her spirits, as they were of the king of Wessex, led by His Majesty, King Alfred himself.

Now Brun just had to come back, from where ever he had been to serve Kent. She had heard from the other women that the men had left for Rochester to help with the siege there, and had been praying ever since that her husband would show wisdom and not let his temper get a hold of him.

Her hands were deep in water and soap when she heard the first sound of hooves on the dirt road. Her head darted up, but it was an old plow horse, not a creature for war. It carried Gareth, who had tried to make himself appear of high rank, despite not having much more than any of the other villagers. He was headman, though, so the ego was slightly to be expected. She reluctantly straightened her posture, drying her hands on her apron before she reached up and tucked some of her hair behind her ears from where it had fallen in her face. The hair which was normally white, though it had been pale blonde when she was a little girl, hung in slight tangles down her back, due to her not having time to braid it this morning. It made her highly aware of whom she was talking to. Her chin, however, tilted up stubbornly. Let them stare at her, covered in dirt caked on by work. The women here were no gentle ladies, they stood on their own two feet when the menfolk were gone.

"Dear Ellette," Gareth greeted her with that sleezy smile of his. With narrowed eyes, she recalled that he hadn't changed at all since he came courting her three years ago.

"I'm not your dear, and if you have no business here, best be moving on," she replied, letting her impatience show. He wasn't who she had spent all day waiting to see.

Holt interrupted the pair of them before they started sniping at each other, "It's Brun, Ellette," he said, and watched her face go white as chalk, eyes dark and worried. She looked among them, and when she didn't see her husband, her face grew paler yet. "He was very brave," he said apologetically, as if that would comfort her.

She silently nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist. Even Gareth could see exactly how upset she was. "You'll have the dower, of course," he said softly, "It won't leave you much."

"It will be enough," she said, and her voice was surprisingly firm. The group of men looked at her, and she stood tall and proud under their gazes, her hand resting over her womb protectively.

They all politely bowed their heads to her as they understood what she meant, leaving her to finally mourn the loss of her husband privately. She wasn't sure how she stayed standing long enough for them to round the bend of the road, but she did. With a sob, she fell to her knees, hiding her face in her apron as she let her agony free. It was a weight. A weight heavier than anything she had been feeling before. Heavier than the child she carried, for a man who was now lost in a mass grave, if he was lucky. The thought of him lost among all those other poor souls made her just cry harder, and she became lost in her mourning.

Blackburn's Ford, Virginia, 1861

Peering out the window curiously, Lizzie tried to listen. There hadn't been any canon or rifle fire for a while, at least that they could hear. The servants were all trying to conduct their normal business, while the Master and Mistress took their children deep into the house to bide out the battle.

Lizzie's mama was the cook, and had thought everyone was being silly, since the battle was far enough that as long as everyone stayed inside, there would be no injuries. Then the cannonball fell into the fireplace, and all of the servants had hunkered down too until most of the artillery fight was away from the house.

That being said, with all of the noise gone, she didn't see any reason why she couldn't go outside for a little while now. She would just have to be careful. With extra-caution, she eased off of the cushion she had crawled up on to check out the window. The window seat was technically only for Mistress, or one of the Misses, but no one had been paying attention so she had taken the chance. Her shoes hit the hardwood softly, and she made sure no one else was in the room before she walked—walked, she firmly told herself—to the front door. Again, the other servants were in the bedrooms or other rooms cleaning, so she was able to flip open the door's latch and walk outside. Even though the porch creaked under her feet, she didn't care. She just kept walking, out to the woods.

She loved being out among the trees, whether it was berrying or looking for mushrooms, or not for any chore at all. Today, it was dead silent, all of the animals retreating to safety when the first bullet was fired. The only sound was her feet and skirts swishing through the underbrush. She looked up at the different trees, unable to stop smiling. Finally, the day felt normal.

A raspy cry shattered the silence.

Lizzie paused in mid-step, her head twisting in the direction of the noise. Her heartbeat was loud and frantic in her ears. When it came again, she finally realized it was human, not a bear or any other sort of wild animal. She was still cautious as she made her way through the trees.

There was the source, as the boy on the ground gave a pitiful whimper rather than crying out again. He was between her and her big brother in age, and Adam was just old enough to enlist in the army with Mama's permission. His sandy blonde hair was like Adam's too, unlike Lizzie's own braid that was the fairest blonde anyone around these parts had ever seen. The only reason why she knew why it wasn't her big brother was because of the uniform. Adam had looked so handsome in his gray uniform, so proud to serve the Confederacy. This boy was in the blue of the Union. He was one of the Yankees.

Hesitating, she walked around the boy. His hand was pressed against his side, stained red and growing worse. Lizzie swallowed thickly, and looked at him with wide eyes, even though his were closed in agony and couldn't see. It was obvious to her. He had been left, left to die. Those Yankees were so mean!

She bit her lower lip before walking towards him. The resemblance between him and Adam was only at the surface, but she just couldn't stand leaving him like this. While she didn't have any medicine know-how like Mama, she could do what she always did, whenever one of her sibs got sick. Kneeling on the fallen leaves and other mishmash on the ground, she ignored the blood and gun powder all over him and helped his head into her lap. Briefly, his eyes opened, locking with hers. His eyes were bright blue, just like hers. The rest of the family had hazel eyes, like Mama, except Papa's and even his weren't as bright as Lizzie's. It was the first time she had ever seen such eyes, and she swallowed at the pain she saw in them.

"Supposed to be safe, in the back lines," he breathed, "Back with the canons."

She nodded her head, even though she didn't really know what he meant. But she stayed with him, till he no longer focused on her and his breathing stopped. Lizzie ignored how it hurt her, to watch him die, but for the rest of her life, it felt her heart stopped with him.

Domino City, Japan 2013

Ayaka stood in the small lobby, tugging at her gloves in a nervous gesture. The black elbow-length gloves had been with her since she first enrolled at Duel Academy, pointer and pinky fingers cut off and the palms and remaining fingers reinforced with leather to prevent paper cuts from drawing or shuffling her cards. They were a gift from her family to show their support of her choice in career, and a necessity considering how easily her skin cut, not to mention they hid the impressive bruises her dueling gear gave her on a regular basis.

The secretary behind the desk smiled at her soothingly, or she tried to anyway. Ayaka was in no position to calm down. Her anxiety was getting higher and higher the longer she was left waiting—

"Yamashiro Ayaka?" a male voice inquired, and she whipped around to look in the direction of one of the smaller offices. That didn't keep her from noticing that he was actually one of the Kaiba brothers, the younger one.

"Hai," she greeted, bowing quickly rather than appear rude. When she straightened, she saw him frowning at the clipboard she had filled out when she first arrived. "My given name is with the characters for 'colorful' and 'flower,' and my surname with 'mountain' and 'castle,'" she supplied, and saw the confusion clear. She winced. Her kanji was horrid, and she knew it. The results of taking a crash course before she came to Japan. Her grandparents may be Japanese, but Ayaka had been raised speaking and writing in English. "I hope I'm not late," she tried to say in Japanese, only to cause Kaiba Mokuba to laugh slightly.

"We can speak in English," he told her, his accent in her language nowhere near as strong as hers was in his. She sighed in relief, and reflexively played with the end of her braid of silvery white hair that hung over her shoulder rather than down her back. He noticed her nerves, and gestured for her to follow him, but not back towards his office. "My older brother is waiting for us. You can go ahead and call me Mokuba-san, but make sure you keep hold of your formalities with him. We're excited for you to step into our champion's place, so I don't want you sent away because he thought you slighted him."

She nodded eagerly, knowing exactly how rare an opportunity to represent Kaiba Corp. in the professional arena, just out of school, was. He smiled back at her and opened the large door for her, letting her walk through to the CEO's office before following right behind her.

Seated behind a heavy desk was Kaiba Seto himself.

Her eyes locked with his, and something passed between them. Ayaka could almost swear her breath stopped for a moment. His eyes were just as blue as hers, but so much colder. While it chilled her, it also gave her the sense she had seen them before, and not just in the mirror. Emotions welled up inside of her, and any words she had evaporated. It was like the key had been turned, and something inside of her sighed and seemed to say, It's about time!

It took a good shake of the head to remind herself that she didn't believe in love at first sight. "Konnichiwa, Kaiba-san," she greeted politely and bowed. As a result, she missed the pole-axed look that crossed his face as soon as he saw hers.

AN:

Cypress—mourning

Daisy—love conquers all