Malediction

Summary: An apprentice witch and a cursed prince, both intertwined by a destiny most grim. As the Wheel of Fate turns, they must learn that even the strongest of spells cannot prevent the inevitable. /AU Blindshipping/

Rating: M

Genre: Fantasy/Tragedy

Shippings/Pairings: Blindshipping (AtemxYuugi) implied Polarshipping (JounouchixMai)

Warnings: crossdressing, swearing, torture/blood/gore, character death(s)

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the intellectual property of Takahashi Kazuki.

A/N: Special thanks to my friends Uniaika and An_Inkling for their tremendous help! I wouldn't have been able to do make it without you guys!

Chapter I: Hansel and Gretel

"There lives a witch in the woods."

– that was the rumour, anyway. What people spoke of, what they believed in; even if they tried to deny it. Old men, drunk off their minds, or otherwise crazy, swore up and down for it to be true if you happened to ask them about it. They would spin you stories of how the forest was alive, how the plants and the trees seemed to move when you weren't looking, and how eerily dark the whole place was, even in the daytime – the Turtle Forest wasn't known for its unusually thick foliage for nothing.

The old men's words would disappear with the cigar smoke, gone as soon as you left the inn, but a part or two of the story would still always linger in the very back of your mind, resurfacing in the dark hours of the night. Like the smell of tobacco, the rumour stuck.

Gossiping women grasped their silver jewellery like the sheath of a dagger when they spoke of it, and parents told their children not to play in the woods. This was exactly what Jounouchi's mother had told him and his sister when they had been little –

– but Jounouchi wasn't so little anymore. Besides, people gossiped about the prince being cursed, too – and Atem was as far from being cursed as one could get: the guy was practically the epitome of good health!

Nevertheless, the point still stood; either there was a witch, or there wasn't – and quite frankly, Jounouchi didn't care to know whether or not the story was really true.

He was desperate, and would take any chance he could.

Shizuka was getting worse by the day; she couldn't even paint anymore. The landscape she had been working on for weeks had had to be left unfinished; for how could she paint a view she couldn't see anymore? When she had put down her fine detail brush (the handle was ivory, and it was the single most expensive gift her brother had got for her for her birthday) saying that she wouldn't paint anymore, Jounouchi, like the fool he was, had had to promise her the impossible: his little sister would finish the painting, no matter what.

"Ya can't leave things hanging like that, ya know? It ain't good!"

"Pot and kettle, brother…"

"H-hey!"

Shizuka would paint again; he'd see to it –

– even if it meant asking help from a witch.

He had stumbled over roots and the thick flora – his hands were scraped and covered with a thin layer of moss, moisture running from between his fingers. He was leaning on a tree, feeling the rough bark prickle his palm like unspun wool.

The forest had been a dark and cold place, but where Jounouchi stood now, there was light. He had found a clearing.

He had found the witch's house.

It was a small cottage; a cosy cabin with a thatch roof and round windows. There were pots on every windowsill, sprouting flowers and vine plants of every shape and size. A lone horseshoe hang over the front door, no doubt hung up there to bring good luck.

Really, the place didn't look threatening at all – aside from the few plants Jounouchi could have sworn were moving – but the at the moment, the cottage was the least of his worries.

There was someone standing in the yard.

The small figure, veiled in robes, seemed to be sweeping the doorstep. The broom they were holding was big and sturdy: the handle had been crafted of gnarly wood, and the end made of bunched up branches.

It was undoubtedly a witch's broom.

Jounouchi froze, having suddenly lost all the courage he had managed to gather so far. There was a witch, there was –!

Turn around, you stupid boy, or else you'll be a frog for the rest of your life –!

– and at that moment, he was off, running back into the darkness, away from the clearing and its warmth. He stumbled over his own feet, feeling his ankles getting ensnared by the plant stems and long blades of grass. One false step – the world tilted.

He swallowed dirt.

It tasted like shame.

Jounouchi didn't know how long he had been lying there: but suddenly, the ground didn't feel so cold – or that hard – anymore. It took him a while to realize that he was being lifted upright.

"H-hey, are you alright?"

A hooded face appeared into his line of sight. It was frowning, looking worried.

"Can you hear me?"

It was also wearing robes.

Jounouchi jumped, shrieking. He was on his feet in seconds, already taking running steps to gain distance from the witch, feverishly scanning his surroundings for cover. But it was too late; the witch had caught his wrist.

"Hey, hey, don't move – y-you might have a concussion!"

"PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Jounouchi squeezed his eyes shut, blood roaring in his ears. He quivered, tensed like a bow, muscles coiled and ready – if the witch let go, even for a second, he would be able to escape. He'd run, even if the witch chased him, he'd run like the devil itself was hot on his heels –

"Wha –? Oh no, you must have hit your head really hard…"

Jounouchi heard rustling, and something soft was pressed against his forehead.

"Hold that there, okay? I'll see if I can stop the bleeding."

He felt numb. His skin prickled, he couldn't see –

"H-hey, don't faint!"

Worried eyes invaded his blurring vision. They were an odd colour (mauve, Shizuka would say) but…

They were human eyes. Not black, nor slit like a cat's or a snake's. Just a pair of worried, perfectly ordinary human eyes.

Jounouchi's knees folded under him, and he fell into a slump.

The figure stilled, but nevertheless continued to press the fabric against his forehead.

"You okay…?"

To his horror, Jounouchi heard himself laugh. It was a high, wheezing giggle, wrenched out of a dry throat. He was shaking like a leaf; he could hear his earring jingle jarringly with each breath he forced out.

"Are ya…" he eventually coughed out, "are ya the witch?"

Please don't kill me – hah, ya were right old man, your brat is a coward alright…

"…witch?"

"Yeah," Jounouchi continued, suddenly feeling apologetic: this kid was trying to help him, a complete stranger, and here he was, freaking out.

Way to go, champ.

"I-I mean of course ya aren't, and I'm being jumpy for nothing and crazy like that, sorry buddy –" he blabbered, feeling heat rise onto his face. Crap, how embarrassing; he'd have to apologize –

"Well, I'd say an apprentice would be a better word; I´m not full-fledged yet. I still haven't passed my exams. After that, though –"

With a soft thud, Jounouchi fainted.

The fire crackled merrily in gratitude as it was fed. The witch wiped their hands on their robes, smudging the forest green fabric with bits of charcoal.

"How are you feeling?"

Jounouchi swallowed, keeping his eyes shut. Maybe he could still manage to pull off playing dead…

A hand pressed against his brow.

"Come on, look here. I want to see if your eyes work…"

"So ya could use them for soup, right?"

Jounouchi was still in a bit of a dazed state of mind, as he had hit his head a few moments prior, and thus it took him a good moment or two to realize that he had been betrayed by his mouth yet again; he had blurted his personal worst-case scenario out loud.

The witch, however, didn't seem to even acknowledge this slip-up; they were still too busy prying his eyes open.

"A-ha!" they finally cried in a triumphant tone, and Jounouchi squealed as something bright invaded his pupils.

"Oh, sorry! I guess I should've warned you...stay still, please!"

A hand gripped his jaw firmly, and tilted his face to the side.

"…yeah, all clear! You're fine!"

The hand let go, and his head fell back onto the pillow (pillow? where had that come from?) His eyes stung, but at least they were still attached to his skull.

"Haha, sorry…but geez, did you give me a scare or what! Falling over like that – you're lucky nothing's broken!"

What was this warm sensation in his cheeks again? Oh yeah – embarrassment. Jounouchi coughed, regretting the action immediately as his dry throat began its objecting.

Something was pushed into his hand.

Jounouchi opened his eyes – a small clay cup sat innocuously in his grasp, puffing out steam in lazy, white swirls. It felt warm against his numb fingers, and the surface was rough enough to get a good grip on – it was nothing like holding one of those china cups found in the royal dining hall; those little bastards were so smooth that they'd slip right out of your hands if you as much as moved a pinkie.

"Here you go – drink if you're thirsty."

He eyed the witch tiredly. He was thirsty, after all that running and screaming: not to mention that his throat felt like it was just about to dry shut. So what if he drank poison?

So Jounouchi tilted the cup in his shaking fingers, and downed the drink.

For a poison, the taste sure was sweet.

"Do you like it?"

He nodded, sighing – warm and sweet, a little like Shizuka's tea –

Shizuka!

The cup fell right past his fingers – the witch caught it just before it was about to hit the floor.

"H-hey! What's wrong –?"

"Please, if ya really are a witch, then – th-then please help my sister!" he shouted – it was now or never, he'd have to at least try, or he would never be able to forgive himself.

"She – she's going blind – a-and I promised she'd finish her painting! Please – please, help her!"

Eyes squeezed shut, Jounouchi bowed: "I-I'll do anything!"

Silence reigned, heavy and pressing. He was sweating; he felt the salt beads run across his neck, felt the gaze of the witch burn his nape. Were they judging him? On being worthy – or if he'd make a decent snack?

I'm sorry, sis…

"…are they cloudy?"

Jounouchi's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"H-huh?"

The witch, their features still partly hooded by the cloak, looked at him solemnly. The eyes that had looked so very human and worried at the forest, were now very serious – serious, but still not unkind.

"Her eyes, are they cloudy? Do the pupils still focus?"

Cloudy? Like – like Miss Kisara's, the weaver's? She was the best clothmaker in town, perhaps in the whole wide world, despite having been born blind. She had really curious-looking eyes, too – but Jounouchi's mother had told him not to ask about them; apparently it would have been really rude. Of course, he hadn't understood it, back then…anyway, it wasn't as if they were an ugly pair of eyes. Different, yes, but certainly not ugly. With her eyes looking like they were always covered in eternal mist, she had reminded Jounouchi of Priestess Isis, who witnessed visions of the days to come.

Her eyes were pretty – but nowhere near similar to his sister's. Shizuka's eyes were always clear and bright, and positively glowing when she was happy.

"Nah, they ain't cloudy one bit!" he finally said, smiling to himself. His little sister had the brightest pair of eyes he had ever seen – and if he had his way, they would stay that way, too.

A heavy thud jolted him out of his happy thoughts. He swivelled his head from side to side, looking around, and he saw the witch hustle about, checking some tall oak shelves. A package had fallen down onto the floor.

"Ah – there it is! Wait a moment, okay?"

The next thing he knew, a pungent smell filled the small hut. He recoiled, gagging.

"Sorry – I know, pretty strong stuff, huh? It's really effective, though!"

Grabbing something from the box, which looked like a bunch of dried leaves, the witch picked up a mortar, and crammed the mystery ingredient into it. Working swiftly, they ground about, until small puffs of powder spilled over the rim of the cup.

They poured the powder – that to Jounouchi, looked like condensed rust – into a small glass vial; water followed suit, sluiced from a small pitcher standing on the coffee table. After a good shake, the substance dissolved; leaving behind clear, red-tinted liquid.

"Here," the witch said, pressing the vial into Jounouchi's still numb hand: "a drop per eye, twice a day. It stings, but it'll work."

Suddenly, the witch frowned, and when they spoke next, their words were soft, apologetic: "This stuff will prevent the retinae from deteriorating further, but I´m afraid it won't repair all the damage done."

There was a small upturn of lips.

"Your sister will paint soon, though – that I can promise. I mean, she'll probably need glasses, but – "

Jounouchi couldn't control himself – his arms were around the witch (they were tiny!) and before he knew it, he was hugging the kid to death.

"Th-thank you!" he sighed out, suddenly feeling out of breath, as if he had just ran another marathon.

"Y-you're welcome!" they sputtered, and Jounouchi let them go. He looked at the small vial in his hands, unable to stop a grin from spreading onto his face. Shizuka would be alright – she'd paint again, and he would buy her all the brushes she'd ever want –!

Oh.

His grin froze.

He didn't have any money with him.

This was a cure for blindness that he held in his hands – a single drop alone from this vial must have been worth a small fortune. A servant like him could never afford something like this; why hadn't he thought of it before? All this work for nothing –

"Take it."

The witch's voice was gentle as they led him out of the cottage. The yard seemed so much greener now; had the flowers truly been this colourful the first time he had seen them? And that one definitely moved –

"Here," the witch said. They held a handkerchief to him.

Jounouchi laughed, his voice sounding clogged.

"T-thanks."

He wiped his eyes – why was he tearing up like this? He was a man, damn it! – and after the witch shook their head, he pocketed the napkin. He slowly began to walk, feeling unsteady; like his legs could fail at any moment. He felt oddly light-headed.

He was about to leave, already at the very edge of the clearing, when something possessed him, and he turned around:

"H-hey! What's your name?"

The figure, still standing on the doorstep, lowered their hood: Jounouchi almost tripped over his feet all over again.

W-what the hell? The kid looks like –!

Plumes of black and red hair spilled out of their clothed confines, spreading out like the mane of a lion. Goldenrod bangs framed a childlike face; a face that was now grinning brightly.

"Yuugi!" the witch shouted; he sounded like he was holding back laughter –

"Mutou Yuugi!"