Title: Midna: A Typical Faerie Tale

Genre: romance, drama, hurt/comfort

Rating: T+ for language, slight drug usage, and violence (rating might go up)

Pairings: YamiXYugi (puzzleshipping); BakuraXRyou (tendershipping); KaibaXJonouchi (puppyshipping); MarikXMalik (bronzeshipping)

Summary: 16-year-old Yugi Mouto lives with an alcoholic rock star mom, whose lifestyle lends itself to travel and minimal attachment. The only consistent thing in Yugi's childhood is the visitation by his faerie friends, and his ability to make strange things happen, inhuman things like making a decrepit merry-go-round horse come to life. He is a sarcastic, sometimes bitter, edgy young man with a hidden innocent side struggling to find his place in a world that offers little in return. Then one night, following a disastrous, rainy night with friends, he rescues a Faerie Knight named Yami on his way home. In this brief but pivotal moment, he tricks him into revealing his name, fully aware of the power this gives him, and then finds himself in the throes of a crush on someone he knows is not of this world. But Yugi's trouble truly begins when he discovers that he himself is not human, having been "glamoured" to hide his true, shimmering green, pixie self. He then becomes a pawn in a rival war between two distinct faeries...

Me: Hello, all! Next chapter is rocking and a-wheeling!

Lucy: We are so proud and pleased of all readers who have enjoyed this story so far, and we pray that you all stick with this one until the end. We're happy with it, and we hope everyone is happy with the way it turns out!

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Tithe or Ironside. They belong to their respective creators.

Me: We hope everyone enjoys this chapter, because someone very special makes his first appearance in this chapter, and I just know everyone is going to love it! Please enjoy this chapter, all, and we shall update soon!

Chapter Two

The wind whipped tiny pebbles of rain against Yugi's face. The droplets froze his hands, making him shiver as they slid down his wet hair and under the collar of his coat. He walked, head down, kicking at the scattered trash that had eddied up on the grassy shores along the highway. A flattened soda can skittered into a sodden chrysanthemum-covered foam heart, staked there to mark the site of a car crash. There were no houses on this side of the road—just a long stretch of wet woods leading up to the gas station. He was well over halfway home by now.

Cars hissed over the wet asphalt. The sound was comforting, like a long sigh.

I saw you. I saw what you did.

Awfulness twisted in his gut, awfulness and anger. He wanted to smash something, hit someone.

How could he have done anything? When he tried to make a magazine page turn on its own or a penny land on heads, it never worked. So how could have made Otogi see a broken-legged carousel horse stand up and move?

Never mind that he might as well assume that Bakura and Ryou and Ryuzaki had been nothing more than imaginary. He'd been home for over two weeks, and there was no sign of them, no matter how many times he had called to them, no matter how many bowls of milk-and-honey he left out, no matter how many times he went down to the old creek where he first met them.

He took a deep breath, snorting rain up his nose. It reminded him of crying.

The trees seemed like lead panels missing the stained glass to fit between their branches. He knew what his grandpa was going to say when he got back, stinking of smoke with a torn shirt.

The same things Shizuka would say tomorrow. There was no way to explain what had happened without admitting to something. Otogi's hand on his leg was what Shizuka might really care about—that, and the fact that Yugi had let it rest there, even if only for a moment of stunned horror. And he could imagine what Otogi was saying—angry and flushed and drunk—but even a badly anaged lie would be better than the truth.

I saw it stand up.

But even if he didn't go that far, who would believe that he was trying to grab Yugi between the legs n purpose, but ripped his shirt by accident? No, Otogi must have told a totally different story. So what was Yugi supposed to say to Shizuka when she asked him what happened? She probably already thought he was making things up, so the chances of her believing him were slim to none.

He could still feel the heat of Otogi's hand, a stroke of hated fire along his thigh in contrast to his otherwise rain-soaked skin.

Another gust of wind stung his cheeks, this one bringing a shout from within the direction of the woods. The noise was brief, but eloquent with pain. Yugi stopped abruptly. There was no sound except the rain, hissing like radio static.

Then, just as a truck sped past, kicking up a cloud of drizzle, he heard another sound. Softer, this one, maybe a moan bitten off at the end. It was just inside the copse of trees.

Go home. Ignore it. Go home. His body wouldn't listen. Yugi moved down the slight slope, off the short grass and into the woods. He ducked under the dripping branches of an elm, stepping on tufts of short ferns and looping briars. Weeds brushed across his calves, leaving strokes of rain on his jeans. The storm lit the woods and sky with silver. An earthy, sweet odor of rot bloomed where he disturbed the carpet of leaves.

There was no one there.

He half turned toward the highway. He could still see the road from where he was standing. What am I doing? The sound must have carried from the houses beyond the thin river that ran beyond the back of the woods. No one else would be dumb enough to go trooping through the wet, dripping woods in the middle of the night.

Yugi walked back up to the road, picking his way through the spots that seemed somewhat drier than all the others. Burrs had collected along his sneakers and jeans, and he bent down to pick them off one by one.

"Stay where you are, imp." He jumped at the voice. It was a rich baritone, each word pronounced precisely.

A man was sprawled in the mud only a few steps from him, clutching a curved sword in one hand. It shone like a sliver of moonlight in the hazy dark. Star-shaped dark hair—So much like mine, Yugi thought in stunned surprise—plastered wetly to his neck, framed a face that was long and full of sharp, inhumanly beautiful angles. Rivulets of rain ran over the jointed black armor he wore, which burned as bright as hot coals when he shifted. His other hand was at his heart, clutching a branch that jutted from his chest. The rain there was tinted scarlet with blood, thick and reeking of something sweet and very, very not human.

"Was it you, imp child?" He was breathing raggedly.

Yugi wasn't sure what he meant, but he shook his head. He didn't look much older than he was—certainly not old enough to refer to him as "child".

"So you haven't come to finish me off?"

He shook his head again. The man was long-limbed—he would be tall if he were standing. Taller than most people, taller than any faerie he'd ever seen—still, Yugi had no doubt what he was, if for no other reason than the pointed tops of his ears knifing through his wet hair—and that he was beautiful in a way that made Yugi's breath catch.

The faerie licked his lips. There was blood on them. "Pity," he said quietly.

Yugi took a step toward him, and he twisted into a defensive crouch. Wounded as he was, he could move swiftly. Silver-blond bangs fell aforward across his face, but his eyes, shining like mercury, studied Yugi intently.

"You're a faerie, aren't you?" Yugi said soothingly, holding his hands where the man could see them. He had heard stories of the court fey—the Gentry—from Ryou, but he had never seen one in person. It seemed very likely that that's what this man was.

He stayed still, and Yugi took another half step toward him, holding out one hand to coax him as if he were some dangerous animal. "Let me help you."

The man's body was trembling with concentration. His eyes never flickered from Yugi's face. He held the hilt of the sword in a white-knuckled grip. "You're not an imp, are you, child?" His voice was soft, full of distrust. "You're human."

Yugi did not dare take another step. "You're going to bleed to death."

They stayed like that a few more minutes before the faerie slumped down to one knee in the mud. He bent forward, fingers clutching the leaves, and spat red. The wet lashes over his half-closed eyes were as black as a raven's feathers.

Yugi took two steps and knelt down to him, bracing himself on shaking hands. This close, he could see that the armor was stiff leather sculpted to look like feathers.

"I cannot draw the arrow myself," the faerie said softly. "There are waiting for me to bleed a little more before they come."

"Who is waiting?" It was hard to understand that someone had shot him with a tree branch, but that seemed to be what he was saying.

"The imps here. Which I believe you were. Your beauty is stunning, for a human. Misleading." His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head slowly. "If you wish to help me, draw the arrow out. If not, then push it in as deep as you can and hope that it kills me."

"It will bleed more," Yugi said.

He laughed at that, a bitter sound. "Either way, no doubt."

Yugi could see the despair in his face. He obviously believed that Yugi was a part of some plan to kill him. Still, he slid his body back until he could lean against the trunk of an oak. He was braced, waiting to see what Yugi would do.

Yugi thought of the faeries he had known when he was a child—impish, quick little things—no mention of wars or magical arrows or enemies, certainly no lies, no deception. The man bleeding in the wet dirt beside him proved to him just how wrong his preceptions of Faery had been. His fingers flinched away from the wound on the faerie's chest. His lungs turned to ice as he looked at the bloody wound, and his head swam. "I can't do this..."

The faerie's voice stayed soft. "What do they call you, child?"

"Yugi," he answered. There was a silence for a moment as he noticed the cold cloud his breath made.

"I'm called Yami." Faeries didn't give their names easily, even part of their names, although Yugi had no idea why. He was trying to show Yugi that he trusted him, maybe trying to make up for the crude assumptions he had made about him being an imp before. "Give me your hand, Yugi."

He let Yam take his hand in his and guide it to the branch. His hand closed over Yugi's, both of them chilled and wet, his fingers inhumanly long and scratched. "Just close your hand and let me pull," Yami said softly. "You don't even have to look. As long as I'm not touching it, I may be able to draw it out."

That shamed him. Yugi had told him that he wanted to help him—he was in a whole lot of pain, and now was no time to be squeamish. "I'll do it," he whispered.

Yami let go of his hand, and Yugi gave a sharp tug. Although his face contorted in pain, it only moved a little bit.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

Were there really other faerie folk in the trees, waiting for him to be weak enough to defeat? Yugi thought that if so, now was a great time for them to come down and have a go at it. He wouldn't be able to fight back, and Yugi was certainly no sort of fighter.

"It's all right," Yami said through grit-teeth. "Again, Yugi."

He took note of the angle of the armor this time, changing his position so the branch couldn't catch on one of the plates. He raised himself on one knee, braced, and then stood, pulling upward as hard as he was able.

Yami gave a harsh cry as the branch slid free of his chest, its iron tip black with blood. His fingers touched the wound and he raised them, slick with blood, as if suddenly disbelieving that he had been shot.

"Very brave," he said, touching his wet fingers to Yugi's leg.

Yugi threw the stick away from him. He was shuddered, and he could taste something metallic in his mouth. "We have to stop the bleeding." He felt Yami's strange fingers on his leg still, and he tried to quell the prickly feeling of joy creeping through him. "How does your armor come off?"

He seemed not to understand Yugi at first. Yami just looked at him with a kind of incredulity. Then he leaned forward with a groan. "Straps," he managed.

A sudden wind shook the branches above, raining an extra shower of heavy droplets down on them, and Yugi wondered again about faeries in the trees, watching them. His fingers fumbled in his haste. If those faeries were still afraid of Yami, they didn't have to worry much longer—Yugi was betting that they only had a few more minutes before he passed out entirely.

To get off his breastplate, Yugi not only had to detach it from the backplate at his shoulders and sides—there were also straps that connected it to the shoulderplates and the legplates. Finally, Yugi managed to peel it off Yami's chest. Underneath, the bare skin was mottled with crimson blood.

Yami tipped back his head and closed his eyes. "Let the rain clean it."

Yugi pulled off his coat and hung it on one of the branches of the tree. His shirt was ripped already, he reminded himself as he took it off. He tore it into long strips and began winding them around Yami's chest and arms. He opened his eyes when Yugi touched him. His eyes narrowed, the widened. They were mesmerizing—as bright and beautiful as cut rubies, filled with other flecks of multi-colored lights and glassy shapes.

He straightened up, horrified. "I didn't even hear you rip the cloth."

"You have to try and stay awake." Yugi's cheeks felt so warm that the cold rain actually felt good against them. "Is there somewhere you can go?"

He shook his head. Fumbling near him, he picked up a leaf and wiped it against the underside of the leather breastplate. It came away shining red. "Drop this in the stream. I—there is a kelpie there—it is no sure thing that I will be able to control her in this weather, but it is something."

Yugi nodded quickly, although he had no idea what a kelpie was, and made to take the leaf.

Yami didn't let go immediately. "I am forever in your debt. I mislike not knowing how I may repay you for securing my life."

"I have questions."

He let him take the leaf. "Then I shall answer three, as full and well as is in my power."

"Promise?"

Then Yami did something surprising and unexepected—he pulled Yugi forward and kissed him briefly on the lips. It was a light touch, nothing much, but it nearly stopped Yugi's heart. When he drew back, his eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions Yugi couldn't identify. "I promise. Faeries cannot lie, whereas humans may."

Yugi nodded slowly.

"When you drop the leaf in the water, say Yami of the Unseelie Court asks for you aid."

"Say it to what?"

"Just say it as loud as you can."

He nodded again and ran in the direction of the water. The steep bank of the stream was choked with vegetation and broken glass. Roots, swept bare of the mud that should have surrounded them, sat above the bank like overturned baskets or ran along the ground like the pale arms of half-buried corpses. Yugi forbade himself to think about something like that again.

He squatted down and set the leaf, blood side down, into the water. It floated there, spinning a little. He wondered if it was too close to the bank and tried to blow it out further. "Yami of the Unseelie Court asks for you aid," he said, hoping he had gotten it right. Nothing happened at first. He said it again louder, feeling foolish and frightened at the same time. "Yami of the Unseelie Court seeks your aid." When nothing happened a third time, Yugi began to feel desperate. He cried as loudly as his tiny lungs would allow him to yell, "Please! Yami of the Unseelie Court needs your help!"

A frog surfaced and began to swim in his direction. Would that have something to do with a kelpie? What kind of help were they supposed to get from a shallow, polluted stream?

But then he saw that he had been mistaken. What he had taken for the eyes of a frog were actually hollow pits that quivered as something swam through the water toward him. He wanted to run, but a sense of fascination combined with obligation rooted him to the spot. Hollow pits formed into flaring nostrils on the snout of a black horse that rose from the black water as if created from it. Moss and mud slid from its dripping flanks as the thing turned its head to regard Yugi with ominously white eyes.

He couldn't move. How many minutes passed as he started at the mottled gray flanks, smooth as sealskin, and stared at the impossible glow of its eyes? The creature inclined its neck.

Yugi took a half step backward and tried to speak. No words came out.

The horse-thing snuffled closer to him, its hooves sinking in the mud, snapping twigs. It smelled of brackish water. He took another careful step backward and stumbled.

He had to say something. "This way," he managed, pointing through the trees. "He's this way."

The horse moved in the direction he pointed, speeding up to a trot, and Yugi was left to follow it, nearly shaking in relief. When he got to the clearing, Yami was already straddling the creature's back. His breastplate had been haphazardly strapped on. Yugi let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Yami saw him emergy from under the canopy of branches and smiled. His eyes seemed darker in the moonlight. "Were I you, I would stay clear of the Folk in the future. We are a capricious people, with little regard for mortals."

He looked at Yami again. There were scratches on his armor that he didn't remember. Could he have been attacked? He could barely lift his head before—it was impossible to believe that he could have fought someone. "Did something happen?"

His smile deepened, wiping the weariness from his face. His eyes glittered muderously bright. "Don't waste your questions." The he leaned down on the horse's back and pressed his lips to Yugi's rain-wet forehead and whispered, "You'll see me again." Then the horse rode, moving like no living thing, darting between trees with unearthy speed and grace. Leaves flurried from the kicks of its hooves. Moonlight glowed on its black flanks.

Before Yugi could think, he was alone in the woods. Alone and shivering and proud of himself. He moved to retrieve his coat, and a glimmer of light caught his attention.

The arrow.

He knelt and picked up the branch with its iron tip. His finger ran up the rough bark and touched the too-warm metal.

A shudder went through him, and he dropped it back in the mud. The woods were suddenly menacing, and he walked as quickly as he could back toward the road. If ge started running, he didnt think he'd ever be able to stop.

Yugi dug his feet into the muddy slope that marked the edge of his grandpa's lawn and heaved himself up. He slid past the overflowing trash can, the broken down Honda, the rusted hinges on the broken sign leading to the game shop entrance. The words KAME flickered in colorful lights at the roof of the shop.

All the lights in the house seemed to be on, highlighting the curtains. Blue lights flickered in the living room where the TV was.

Yugi opened the back door and walked into the kitchen. Pots and pans, crusted with food, were piled in the sink. He was supposed to have washed them. Instead, he took a bowl out of the cupboard, filled it with milk, then poured a drizzle of honey on top. It will have to do, he thought as he carefully opened the door and set it on the step—after all, the only things likely to come for it anymore were the alley and neighborhood cats.

Yugi crept into the living room.

On the other side of the staircase, Era was sitting in front of the television, eating one of the minature Snickers Grandpa had bought for the trick-or-treaters.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Sugoroku," she muttered to the drink in front of her.

"You think I don't know anything? You're the smart one, right?" Yugi's grandpa said in that too-sweet voice that scared Yugi so much. He was in front of her, his hair frizzier than usual. "If you're so smart, then how come you're all alone? How come all those men just use you and leave you? How come the only one to take care of you seems to be your old, stupid father-in-law?"

"I heard you the first million fucking times you said it."

"Well, you're going to hear it again, Era," growled Grandpa. "Where is your son tonight? It's almost one in the morning! Do you even care that he's walking around there this late, probably going to turn into a cokehead just like that son of a bitch you dated before all this, who tried to kill you—"

"Do not start on my Yugi!" Era said with surprising vehemence. "He's just fine! You leave him out of this!"

"Well forgive me for caring about my grandson!"

"Of course I care!"

Yugi bent his head down and tried to walk up the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. He caught his own reflection in the hallway mirror, strange lines of dirt streaked across his cheeks and under his eyes, running in crusted lines that appeared to be made with tears. The red lines on his lips, he realized, were made from the traces of blood on Yami's lips when he kissed him. They were smudged lines, as if he had wiped at them. He didn't remember.

Yugi took a furtive look into the living room. His mother caught his glance, nodded slowly, and motioned him up the stairs with a quick gesture.

"While Yugi's in this house, he's going to live by the same rules he did as a child. I don't care that he's spent the last six years in a rat-infested apartment with whatever hoodlum you took up with. From now on, that boy's not going to suffer anymore because your your dumb choices!"

Yugi crept the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room. He closed the door as quietly as he could.

The tiny white dresser and bed seemed to belong to someone else. His rats, Magician and Gaea, rustled in their fish tank on top of the old toy box.

Yugi stripped off his clothes and, not caring about the wet or the mud or anything, climbed into the small bed, wrapped a blanket around himself, and folded his legs so that he fit. He knew what obsession was like—he saw how his mother craved fame, pined over men who trated her like shit. He didn't want to want someone or something he could never have, could never achieve.

But just for tonight, he allowed himself to think of Yami, of the formal way he had spoken to him, so unlike anyone else. He let himself think of the flashing eyes and the smile. And he let himself think of the kiss, Yami's assurance that they would meet again.

Yugi slid down into sleep like water closing over his head.

Me: Hello all! I hope you enjoyed that. Now, I know Kaye and Roiben—the two who Yami and Yugi take place on in this fic—didn't kiss when they first met, but I wanted to give in to the fanservice just a little, so I had Yugi and Yami kiss in this chapter.

Lucy: We hope the fans aren't displeased with us for doing that, but we don't think they will be!

Me: Please review, and we shall update as soon as we are able!