Chapter Text
Part I: Time
Chapter I: The Eclipse
Atem could not move for a long time. The scales had risen along his back. He lowered his head and stared, unsure as he tried to force himself to move even the smallest inch. His top mouth was unusually dry and his bottom had begun to salivate heavily, drool threatening to slip from between his teeth. He shivered and sank his claws into the dirt harder, as if to somehow ground him.
The egg was still there in the back of the den, upright, with the smallest inklings of cracks upon its surface. It looked smooth otherwise, and he was almost amazed. But the sound of eggshell breaking had ceased. The intensity of the moment was gone.
Yet, he remained there.
He could not loosen his muscles.
The tension made his belly ache.
He lashed his tail as if to ward off an opponent, but Yugi was the only other there.
"W…was it a false hatch?"
Atem didn't know whether he should answer. False hatches were extremely rare. Usually a dragonet born after a false hatch was more likely to suffocate. False hatching normally occurred when the egg had either overheated and caused the dragonet to rot, or there was some kind of pressure making it prematurely crack. The hatchling then only had two days at most to break free, or else it would suffocate.
He did not know whether to say so. The guilt would crush Yugi; there was no way the Gandora would not blame himself. Atem didn't want to hurt him, especially if he was not sure it was the reason for its sudden stillness. For all he knew, it could have been he himself to cause it. Perhaps in saying he did not believe it was alive, he'd inadvertently killed it.
If he was truly a God Dragon, what was to say it wasn't possible?
And wouldn't it have been just his luck to learn too late the meaning of his own doubts?
The egg had clearly moved, but the hatchling had not gotten through.
Atem tilted his head, staring at it and then Yugi. The Gandora seemed so perplexed. Atem felt guilt chew at his insides. He didn't know how to comfort him, especially if he had somehow caused this. He cast a glance over his shoulder.
The world was so dark behind him.
That was not normal for any eclipse.
And shouldn't that be the pronouncement for a God Dragon's egg self-destructing? It should never have been laid, nor survived; the world turning dark seemed so akin to an impossible egg rotting into nonexistence.
Wouldn't it make sense for the world to darken for such a terrible omen?
"Atem?"
He blinked, turning back.
A loud squeak echoed through the den.
Yugi jerked, eyes huge. Atem stiffened, bristling.
"Where…?" The Gandora stepped closer, then shot him an anxious look. Atem didn't realize he'd snarled until he saw his expression. The God Dragon silenced himself, feeling somehow chastised for his instinctive reaction, and looked at the egg again. "Atem, what if it's stuck?"
Then let it die, Atem thought breathlessly. If it had hatched beneath an eclipse, it would bring death and destruction to everything around it. It was dangerous. It was an omen. It was going to be destruction incarnate and—
"Atem," Yugi snarled, "I know you're scared, but please."
Please? Please what? Atem couldn't look away from him and the more he saw his anxiety, the harder it became to focus. He looked at the egg. The squeak came again. He forced himself forward a step. He bristled. He could hear them shifting, threatening to dislodge if he so much as moved the wrong way.
I can kill it…
Before Yugi ever sees it…
And then he lowered his eyes. Little pieces of shell were scattered about. The hatchling was nowhere in the mess of black and sky blue remnants. Atem bristled fearfully, baring his teeth and snarling under his breath. Where had it gone?
"Atem! Atem, Atem, Atem!"
His head snapped around. Yugi trembled, eyes wide and focused on something beside his paw. Atem lowered his eyes and bristled even more furiously, entire body statuesque.
The hatchling peered up at him, eyes huge gems of brilliant gold like the sun.
Atem blinked and stared.
Then he blinked again.
The hatchling squeaked and sprang forward on wobbly legs. It touched his paw and squeaked again. The noise was insistent and loud, almost a screech. Atem stared down at it, frozen. Then he blinked and risked a glance at Yugi.
The Gandora was trembling harder than ever.
"Yugi…" His eyes flickered to Atem and the God Dragon felt oddly small and estranged. "Breathe, little one. You're not breathing."
Yugi blinked, gulped in air, and exhaled in a huff. His eyes shot to the dragonet again and his entire body went still once more.
"Breathe, Yugi."
The hatchling squeaked as if in agreement.
Atem looked down, faltering. It was staring up at him, jaws partially opened. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw a small shadow on the inside of its mouth. It was like a second ridge, as if the gums were divided into two sets with one lower than the other and—
His head snapped up.
Yugi was sprinting around the den.
The hatchling turned, squeaking, and tried to run but made it only a few feet before chirping and watching Yugi race around them again. It attempted to follow twice more, then stopped and simply stood beside the egg, squeaking and chirping so loudly its entire body shook.
Atem watched him run another lap. Yugi finally stopped a few minutes later, panting. His sides seemed to collapse with the effort and he shuddered, head lowered and mouth wide. His eyes had not left the hatchling.
The God Dragon didn't know what to think.
The hatchling chirped and ran forward, reaching out to touch beaks with Yugi.
Atem snarled, lunging. Yugi quickly dodged aside. Atem huffed and scowled, bristling for a single second as he remembered himself. Yugi wouldn't have hurt it. He knew that. And, yet, despite everything, all he'd understood was there was a Dragon of Destruction next to what would likely be his only offspring in existence. He'd acted on instinct, despite the shame that came immediately after.
It shouldn't have survived. It shouldn't have been there and—
He felt something touch his paw and spun around. It was there, rubbing against him as if to melt into his flesh. Atem blinked, staring, and tried to find some small semblance of warmth toward it. But fear made his body cold.
It was born during an eclipse.
He stared down at it.
His nightmares reared their heads. He thought of Seto pleading with him. He thought of how he said Atem had killed them all. He thought then of Jaden saying they should place an edict on Keith's offspring. He remembered fighting him, quoting the Lore just to protect a few innocent hatchlings from a murder spree. He remembered his parents telling him how late he'd hatched, how long it had taken him in comparison to his brothers, and how wrong his birth had been.
A false moon meant omen, sickness, disease and death.
They should have left him for dead.
They should have removed him from the nest so as not to taint his brothers' chances.
They…
Hadn't.
They hadn't done it.
Atem blinked as the hatchling raised its head. It didn't squeak or chirp or move. Its eyes locked on his face. Bright yellow orbs stared into his. The brilliant red scales made its face all the more innocent. Atem couldn't breathe.
"Atem?"
He didn't look. He blinked down at the hatchling. He watched it, stared at its face and wondered if it could cause destruction and death and make the world rot. And then he lowered his head. It chirped and tried to stretch to touch beaks with him. And, the longer he looked at it, the more he realized he couldn't ignore it any longer. Maybe it was born beneath an eclipse. Maybe its birth should have been an omen for destruction.
But it had saved Yugi.
And if it had saved Yugi that day in the ice, then why should he think it would destroy everything?
He blinked, gusting a breath from between his teeth. The hatchling squeaked with joy, tried to pounce and missed by a good foot, and then scrambled to meet him when Atem lowered his head further. It trembled and chirped and purred.
Yugi trembled in his peripheral when Atem risked a glance. The Gandora was staring at them with huge eyes, too exuberant to quell his tremors. He bristled, kneaded at the ground, and panted. He lowered his head, tucked his wings into his sides, and plopped down onto his belly to stare at it.
Atem felt his hearts break.
He looked down and butted the hatchling firmly in the hindquarters. It didn't glance at him, sprinting over to Yugi. It squeaked, trembling, and purred as it bumped beaks and then spun around and chirped and kneaded and stomped its tiny paws.
Yugi took off running again.
Atem watched him do another two laps. "Little one?"
Yugi turned and spun, tripping over himself and rolling before springing up again. He trembled, grinning, as he blurted, "He's red! He's red! He's red, he's red, he's red!" and took off again.
Atem blinked, uncertain. "Yes…?"
"He's red! He looks like you!"
He raised his head, eyes widening. "Huh?"
Yugi panted, pausing, and then did another lap. "He looks like you! He looks like you!" he crowed, springing about and almost screaming with joy.
Atem watched him, tilting his head. "Yugi…"
Yugi paused only a moment, flexing and kneading his paws. Then he broke off into a sprint again. "He looks like you! He's like a tiny Slifer!" he panted. "He looks just like you when you were younger!"
Anxiety crashed through him. He looked over at the hatchling. "That's… That's a good thing…r-right?" he breathed, flexing his claws.
"Good?" Yugi scoffed, finally stopping and looking at him incredulously. "Atem, it's amazing! I always wanted little Atem's running around when I was younger! When I thought we could have a nest, I always wanted little red Sky Dragons running around! I… He's red!"
Atem looked away. It wasn't a Sky Dragon—not completely. But it certainly had a similar body shape to him. His head wasn't right for a Sky Dragon. Atem knew that shape. He knew the color. He knew the way its mouth was colored blue on the inside and gray around the gums. He knew those characteristics. He couldn't remember what dragon possessed those features, but he knew them.
It was not a Sky Dragon by any stretch.
But it was not a hybrid species, either.
The hatchling looked at Atem, squeaked, and puffed its chest out as if with pride. Atem snorted, tilting his head. Had he not known any better, he would have assumed it knew what they were saying. But dragonets didn't usually learn until well into two moons of hatching.
It squeaked as if in protest, a sharper and more irate noise. Atem narrowed his eyes, puzzled.
Yugi hadn't moved from his spot, but his voice was curious when he mumbled, "He's probably hungry."
Atem blinked, head whipping around. He? He opened his mouth to point out they didn't know the gender, because it didn't have a scent. But then he stopped short. Now that he scented the air, the pheromone balance was male. The hatchling may have been smaller than his paw, perhaps even the length of one of his claws, but it produced a gender-scent.
And it shouldn't have.
He thought to speak, then froze. The sun was slowly strengthening, dim light growing outside the den. He turned his head, skin crawling, scales itching and burning as his bones turned cold. The hatchling produced a scent. And the other God Dragons—
"Well, you've certainly made things harder for us, haven't you?" he snorted, turning to the dragonet. It blinked and chirped, a small and high-pitched noise of confusion. Yugi bristled, opening his mouth to snarl in reprimand, and Atem turned to him as he straightened and shook himself out. "The eclipse is bound to have drawn attention. I can't sense them yet, but no doubt Jaden, Yusei and the Leviathan are headed here."
Yugi froze, eyes widening. His pupils flipped with distress, eyes shooting to their offspring seated by his paw. Atem had not even noticed the proximity until Yugi had turned to look.
"What do we do?"
Atem stiffened, blinking. The other male stared at him. Anxiety crashed through him again. He couldn't sense the other God Dragons which should have meant they were far from his territory but he couldn't be sure. Most God Dragons knew how to suppress their power until necessary. It was supposed to be easily learned. Atem hadn't sensed power coming from them at the gathering. Even when they'd gone to help him when he'd lashed out at the Lightning Dragons when his brother had angered him, Atem had not felt their presence.
They knew how to suppress.
They had to.
They'd let him know they were approaching that day at the Badlands. The rest of the time they'd hidden their presence.
He couldn't determine where they were.
He looked at the dragonet and bristled.
Its scent would cling to him like a layer of shedding skin.
"The ground is soft in places. There should be mud. Cover him in it and burn the egg. Hide him in the far corner of the den and do not let him anywhere near the entrance. Do not let him out of your sight. Pin him if you must. I do not care. But make sure there is no hint of his existence. Roll in the mud." He stared at the dragonet as it tilted its head and stared up at him, eyes wide and soft with wonderment. Atem fought the urge to growl and shuffle away. It was looking at him as if he held all the answers in the world, as if he could actually protect him if it came to that. He almost laughed; it'd lose that faith in him soon enough. It was bound to happen. "I'll do the same and then swim. They won't be able to smell him—"
The hatchling squeaked, glaring.
Atem stared, unsure. Then he looked at Yugi, bewildered.
"You said he stinks," the Gandora teased, though he seemed just as puzzled. He grinned at Atem then, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Maybe he's smarter because his father is!"
He snorted, shaking his head. "He's too young to know what I'm saying."
"Unless he's smarter, like his father!"
"You are smart, but I don't think it would allow him to understand what we're saying."
The Gandora blinked, then straightened with his chest puffed out. He wiggled slightly, as if he were trying to suppress a tremble. "Thank you, but I meant you."
I can't be too smart, Atem thought wryly, looking at the hatchling, or else I would have left and headed them off.
It squeaked again, sounding puzzled. Atem stared and shoved the bewilderment aside.
"Do as I said and I'll be back."
"What are you—?"
"I'll meet them. It will give us time to figure out what next to do. It'll distract them; they won't expect me to find them following an eclipse. And they'll want audience with me."
Atem darted from the den, listening for any noise that might mean their proximity. But he couldn't sense anything, and his muscles tightened with anxiety. Fear made his mouths taste of rotting flesh as he sprang into one of the larger puddles of melting ice. He ground into the snow and dirt until he felt his skin chafed from the force and got to his paws.
He was soaked, dripping with mud, his entire body slimy and disgusting. He shook himself out, wandering a few steps. He could have intensified the sun, but what excuse did he have? Jaden would be suspicious the moment he realized and Yusei would likely wonder even if he did not ask. The Leviathan likely wouldn't care enough to bother mentioning it.
Atem leaped into the water, submerging himself, swam a few feet upstream, and then sprang into the air. When he took flight, the droplets glimmered in his peripheral like fresh morning dew. He didn't look back, but he could tell Yugi was doing as he'd said. He could hear him, leading the hatchling out to smother in mud.
Atem had the impulse to look back, to make sure his offspring wasn't eaten alive. But he abandoned the idea immediately. Yugi had never done anything to deserve his distrust. Instinct or not, he should have been more optimistic. He hovered, flapping his wings hard and fast to shed what water remained. Then he bristled, flexing his paws to maintain his balance midair.
They were yards away, pinpricks against the sky. He flew forward more slowly, determined not to startle them with what might look like a potential aerial assault. Yusei spotted him first, put on a burst of speed, and greeted him with a surprised expression.
"Did you come to find us?" he asked, hovering a few yards back as Jaden shot past him and snarled, "What is the meaning of this, Sky Dragon?"
"Jaden, he doesn't control the sun or the moon."
The Leviathan looked bored when he hissed, "Are we really going to fight over this? Eclipses happen." He yawned and looked at Atem with a shake of his head. "Sky Dragons can't control omens, either, if I remember right. They don't control more than weather. God Dragon or not, he can't summon an eclipse."
"You know our ancestors send us omens, not a God Dragon."
"There's only ever been a Sky Dragon for a God Dragon once."
"That doesn't mean he has control beyond the usual limitations."
"He's immune to us. I have no control over him. None of us can sense him. He's been living under our beaks for this long and no one knew. Can you assure me he doesn't have power beyond our usual scope of control?"
There was silence then.
Atem tried to suppress his laughter. He'd already done the impossible. He wouldn't have been surprised if he somehow summoned an omen on top of it. The egg was a miracle in and of itself. It shouldn't have been laid. It shouldn't have hatched. The fact there was a dragonet hiding in the den with Yugi was insanity.
"If I could control the sun and the moon, I'd have much longer nights year round," he said to disrupt the tension. He flapped his wings to keep himself airborne and enjoyed their looks of surprise. "After all, my suitors needed sunlight to challenge me. The lack thereof would have been a blessing."
Yusei snorted. "Oh, yes, hide behind the moon to avoid suitors, despite being a dragon most active during daylight hours."
"I learned to stay awake when it was necessary." Atem wondered briefly if Yugi had gotten rid of the egg yet. And then he felt some small part of him bristle with anger. He should have been there to help. It should have been okay for him to be there. It didn't have to be forever, but he should have had more than just a few seconds with them both. "I may not be nocturnal, but learning to hunt at dawn and dusk saved me countless times."
He could not claim he was devoted to it as Yugi himself was. The Gandora had managed to change almost everything about himself to accommodate Atem in some way. He'd trained himself out of his own sleep cycles and nocturnal nature to become more active during daylight hours. He'd trained himself not to flee the cold immediately. He was faithful as any Sky Dragon. He was not vicious and cold like his brethren. He was not food aggressive. He was not territorial. He snuggled with him. He talked to him rather than at him. He actively tried to switch diets to make it easier for Atem to avoid frequent belly aches. He liked to just be close to him, without attempting to force him to mate. He even let Atem mount him, which should have been an impossibility for the hybrid.
While Atem still didn't know why Yugi had changed so much about himself just to court him, he also did not think he had the right to question it. Yugi was by far the best dragon he'd ever met, apart from Timaeus. But he was the best mate Atem could have taken, that was for sure.
Yugi was unwavering in loyalty, even to the point of challenging three more experienced God Dragons just for making Atem uncomfortable. Yugi was so gentle as to apologize when he felt he used the wrong tone. He didn't have the natural anger that encompassed the Gandora species as a whole, nor the violent streak that came with being part Fire Dragon. He didn't even exhibit the constant rebellious streak most Wind Dragons his age did. He didn't argue with him when it came to important decisions, but for when he felt there a true reason. There was no punishment for the sake of being able to.
Yugi's parents had either truly taught him the best of compromise, or the hybrid had strived to accomplish it in order to mate with him. Atem didn't know which he believed more, though it was easier to pretend and claim the former. The idea Yugi was truly so enamored with him as to change so much made Atem extremely uncomfortable.
It would have been so easy to abuse that trust, to take advantage.
Yugi was so easily read and made it so clear how to understand and interact with him that Atem truly did sometimes fear manipulation. It would have been easy for Yugi to trick him into thinking he was safe and then sweep the leaves from under his paws. But it would have been just as easy for Atem. He could have easily put Yugi through terrible things just to prove he loved him.
It was too easy to manipulate between them.
He didn't suspect Yugi had a malicious bone in his body when it came Atem, however. And he tried to show him the same courtesy in trusting and trying to display something of his growing fondness.
"Where is Yugi?"
"Asleep. Winter makes him groggy. You know cold weather slows Fire Dragons. He may not act it, but he's still half."
The Fire Dragon in front of him growled softly, irritable. His red-orange eyes flashed against his brilliant golden scales. He peeled his lips back to show razor sharp thorn-like teeth, staring. He looked like liquid metal, before it was compressed by a human blacksmith. He was all smooth scales and long glittering wings beneath the strengthening sunlight. All six looked like curled autumn leaves as they flapped and his long claws seemed all the more like Yugi's, made for easy evisceration and sinking into prey for gouging as they attempted to flee.
Atem didn't imagine a fight with him was easily won, even with experience.
"Then perhaps you should wake him."
"Because of an eclipse," Atem snarled, flexing his claws and baring his teeth, "I must wake my nocturnal mate? Do not overstep your welcome in my territory, Jaden."
Jaden chuckled, baring his teeth. "Is there something you wish to hide in preventing me speaking to him?"
"You have not asked my blessing. Feel free to lay a paw on my land so I might box you upside the head," he spat. Yusei and the Leviathan both froze, startled. Jaden studied him, eyes cold and sharp. "Yugi needs his rest. He's not at his best in the cold. Moving to the valley doesn't prevent him feeling the effects of the weather."
Yusei hissed a breath. "Jaden, even you are not so battle-hungry as to forget why Sky Dragons are the worst species to challenge over a mate."
Jaden snarled low in his throat, attention shooting past him and to the forests. Atem turned his head as well, studying where he seemed to be watching so intently. When he looked back, Jaden was eyeing him critically.
"Yugi may continue resting. But you shall join us."
Atem blinked. Join them? Was it an ambush? He could not imagine there was any other reason the four of them should occupy the same space.
"We are to investigate the territories Keith set upon when he was going after you." Jaden offered a smile Atem couldn't quite read. Perhaps he saw aggression where there was none. Perhaps he didn't see enough of it. "If any of the nests have hatched this day, we will kill them."
His eyes stretched wide. "What?"
"Any hatchling born beneath an eclipse spells disaster. Why not destroy the threat before it gains its wings?"
Yusei refused to meet his eyes when he looked at him. The Leviathan stared, then turned away. Atem blinked, stunned, and looked at Jaden. His insides felt full of stone. Jaden wanted to massacre nests over something that could have just been superstition? And he had their support, regardless of what had been said during the meeting moons ago.
"What mother would admit to their clutch hatching during an eclipse?"
"Who needs admission? You can tell when an egg has hatched by the inside of the shell. If it's still wet, the hatchling was born within the same day."
Atem stiffened. Was that right? He'd never thought about it before. But he had also never desired a nest before. After all the suitors had made it apparent what they thought his role to be, he'd never given it a thought. When Yugi had outwitted him using a human net to pin him during their challenge, he had never once imagined they could produce offspring.
He wondered then, as he had before, what kind of monstrosity he might have birthed. Had it caused the eclipse? Had he brought some kind of terrible prophecy simply by allowing it to hatch?
But it had…
It had saved Yugi.
He didn't know how. He couldn't fathom such ability. But it had done it.
It had.
He knew it had.
And if it could save Yugi, how terrible could it truly be?
He stared at Jaden, wondering how hideous the fight would be if the Fire Dragon ever found out about its existence.
He'd have to kill him.
Atem would have to kill Jaden the moment he found out—if he ever did.
But he hoped otherwise.
He couldn't imagine the backlash he'd receive.
Jaden was supposed to be able to heal any wound, physical or emotional. Atem didn't have such power. And if he struck him down—for any reason—he was sure he'd be hunted like a dog. He'd be skinned and his body hung up like he was rumored to do with his dead suitors.
Yami would be eaten alive.
Despite his detachment to the hatchling, Atem was struck with horror at the thought. As odd as he was, as terrifying his birth, he was still Atem and Yugi's offspring. He was their only. Atem knew there wouldn't be another. There could never be another.
It was a miraculous yet terrifying accident.
And there would be no second chance.
If only for that, Atem owed him his best chance at survival.
He owed him protection.
"Make it fast, Jaden," he announced, flapping to maintain his position. "Yugi is sluggish from the cold and I don't like to leave him long periods of time."
The Fire Dragon scoffed, "You are aware he's a Gandora, right?"
"He's also younger and doesn't have as much experience fighting."
"You know he's a Sky Dragon, right?" the Leviathan sneered at the same time. "Did you forget why everyone is so afraid of Sky Dragons when they're newly mated?"
Yusei snickered and Jaden shot the Leviathan a dirty look. "Shut up."
Yugi looked over and shifted his wing. Yami had tucked himself into the groove of his side, between his legs, chin on his back paw and eyes wide open. The little hatchling glanced over his shoulder when he seemed to realize Yugi was staring at him. He opened and closed his mouth, making a soft clicking noise, but didn't utter a peep beyond that. In fact, he had not so much as breathed louder than necessary since Atem had left, and Yugi was almost afraid he was mute. Maybe he'd squeaked until he'd lost his voice.
And, if he had, was it permanent? Or would he regain it later?
Was it a Sky Dragon trait? Fire Dragons were usually loud and vicious, running around stomping and snapping their teeth and growling at anything and everything. Wind Dragons usually just played until they dropped. They weren't the most vocal but they certainly got their point across when they wanted.
But Yugi didn't know much about Sky Dragon hatchlings. What was known of them was kept secret for the most part, usually a guarded treasure by their parents. He didn't even know if Atem had been loud and talkative with little chirps and squeaks or if he'd been silent as the grave until his voice had developed. He had never asked, and either suited him.
The dragonet peered at him, golden eyes wide and searching. Yugi tilted his head, about to speak, but Yami tensed, then sprang to his paws and squeaked. He smacked his tiny paws into his side and wiggled his rump as if to leap at his face. He barely got an inch off the ground, much too small to propel himself so high, and landed with a startled expression.
Yugi snorted and smiled. "Shush," he whispered, watching as he tried to recalculate the force to make the leap. "We can't make noise, okay? Atem is keeping them busy, but I don't know if they're still in the area."
Yami huffed and bristled, then took a seat and wrapped his tail around his paws. He glared at him, squeaked as if he'd called him a pile of dung, and turned away. Yugi stared, snickering, and shook his head.
It did almost seem like he knew what was being said.
Yami turned his head, squeaked almost defiantly, and glared again. Yugi wondered if he was aware just how adorable he was. Or how oddly he behaved. Did he know what was being said? Did he actually understand the magnitude of the conversation they'd had in front of him?
That was a lot of wistful thinking, even for him.
Yugi smiled when Yami shot him another dirty look. He turned around, laying facing the opposite wall, rump to Yugi's face. The Gandora chortled and Yami huffed, tucking his tiny wings into his sides. Yugi put his chin on his paws, watching him.
He was so, so small.
He'd never seen a hatchling so tiny before.
He wasn't even the full length of Yugi's paw when he lay it flat. He was a couple inches shorter, with so small a body he doubted he measured against Atem's claws. But he was beautiful, with bright red scales to mirror his father's and huge glowing golden eyes like silken sunlight. He had a longer crown than Atem, somewhat mirroring Yugi's own, and there looked to be some tusks that just barely showed on both sides of his mouth. But the rest of him was almost a perfect mirror of Atem. He was small and lanky, thin like a river weed, with the tiniest streaks of black along the sides and center of his face, and his belly was the same striped pattern of midnight and starlight. He even had a blue gemstone in the center of his head, brilliant and glowing in the limited light.
Yami was staring at him. Yugi hadn't noticed he'd lost his petulant stance and turned around until then. He didn't squeak or chirp. He just stared, as if he were waiting.
Had he expected him to say something?
Yugi tilted his head, glancing around. It was much smaller than their usual nest. Atem wouldn't have fit in there had he been in his Origin Form. Yugi even imagined his own would have been uncomfortably crouched within the walls of this cave. He was not nearly as big as Atem, but he was taller and heavier, chest broader and wings much larger. Even his tail was longer in that form.
He looked around as he considered.
It would have been a tight squeeze. The entrance alone would have been hard for him to get through.
He shifted his wings and looked over. Yami had gotten up, trotting over. The hatchling didn't pause when Yugi stared at him. Instead he plopped down at his side, burrowing into his flank and curling up. He was like a tiny ruby next to him.
Yugi almost trembled.
He almost salivated with happiness.
He was so cute and perfect and tiny.
He was living and breathing.
He was his.
Yugi lowered his chin to his paws and tried to suppress tremors. Yami didn't make a noise or move besides breathing and Yugi could tell he was passed out. He wanted to lick and groom him, but he didn't want to undo his mud bath. And he didn't want Atem to worry. No doubt he'd become uncertain and bristly if he smelled Yugi so intently on Yami. He was a Sky Dragon, after all, and the gods only knew how terrible they were when their protective instincts were triggered.
Atem had struck him for approaching the egg before he'd realized what he was doing. If he smelled Yugi's saliva all over him, there was no saying what might come of Atem's temper before he remembered himself.