Chapter Text
Those who live today will die tomorrow, those who die tommorow will be born again. Those who live Ma'at will never die.
~Ancient Egyptian Proverb
From the moment Suhad of Amurru pulled the half-dead soldier from the riverbed, she knew he was strong. Survival was not a matter of willpower for most men, but this soldier was different.
At first, his long, lanky frame and soft brown gazelle eyes were disarming. He looked like any other young man her age, albeit a very handsome one, shrouded in mystery. Suhad would never forget his rasping voice, pleading from the reeds: "Please help me...I cannot be discovered."
He spoke in reference to the Egyptian soldiers who searched for their dead and dying comrades on the battlefield. Only days before, the army had clashed with invading forces from the Kingdom of Mitanni, using the nearby abandoned village as a place to launch a surprise attack; evidence of the carnage was inescapable and gruesome. The shocking sights, smells, and sounds dulled Suhad's hesitation or wariness toward the attractive stranger. Instead, she staunched his bleeding wound and hid him on the outskirts of her farming village.
It was only over the weeks of tending his wounds, sheltered in the safety of their hut, that he had shown his true nature. They created a little world of their own as Suhad watched over him, and with his body mended, his playful, stubborn personality revealed itself.
His determination to be up and walking before his weak legs would carry him seemed foolish to Suhad, but soon enough he was taking walks around the crop fields with her. That was when she knew he was a powerful man, one who took action and did not simply let fate decide his path.
Suhad's heart never stood a chance. She had never met someone as confident and poised, who spoke like a nobleman but stood up for the people of her tiny borderland village like it was his home. Someone who was so charming, and kind, and wanted to make Egypt a better place for all her people. Because of this, when he finally disclosed his true identity, that of Pharaoh Tutankhamun himself, she wa somehow unsurprised.
What she could not understand was what he saw in her. Her low-born status and the foreign, Mitanni blood that flowed in her veins made many people suspicious of her and her family. That wariness had only grown as the powerful Mitanni empire itself began to make acts of aggression on the fringes of Egyptian land. Despite all of this, Tutankhamun looked at her as if she were something holy.
She had been the one to find him, to save him from death, care for him, and provide him company. When he kissed her the first time, Suhad felt the oddest sensation of coming home. She also knew that their blossoming love was impractical at best, impossible at worst.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to break off their relationship. It was like the gods had tied them together with invisible string—Suhad knew she had to go with Tutankhamun, first to the Mitanni encampment to rescue one of his captains, Lagus, who had been taken as a prisoner after the battle, and then to the capital, Thebes. There was a new pharaoh already being coronated in the wake of his presumed death.
The circumstances behind the coronation were hazy at best for Suhad. Tutankhamun was thought to be dead and his queen, Ankhesenamun, as the last living heir, was going to remarry. He had not divulged any more than necessary, although it seemed what he did know weighed heavily on his heart. That did not matter; the throne was his birthright, and he planned to fight those who had maneuvered against him to claim it. Then, with peace restored, she would stand by his side, helping him to become the great pharaoh he aspired to be.
Young Queen Ankhesenamun smiled from her chamber doorway as she watched the general fix her silken bedsheets. Every movement was completed with the clinical precision of someone who had gone through the motion a thousand times before.
She couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in the faint blue light of early dawn. His tousled wavy brown hair fell in his face with every movement, his broad shoulders flexed beneath his green striped tunic, creating a perfect v-shape down to his trim waist. Ankhesenamun wondered if there would ever be a day where she didn't like to look at him—she doubted it.
"Pharaohs don't make their own beds, Ka."
"Soldiers do, and I am still a soldier for a few more hours," he retorted, finishing with the sheets and shooting Ankhesenamun a playful look.
She met him halfway across the sparkling stone floor of her bed chamber, resting her hands on his chest comfortably while his arms circled her small waist. He pulled her so they were flush against one another and she looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Then my maids will thank you. They have one less task for the night—assuming the pharaoh will have his queen in his chambers this evening."
Ka smiled down at her, but his sharp, hawk-like features fell into an expression more serious. Touching her face gently, he responded, "Ankhesenamun, we can hold off on moving your brother's—"
"No, Ka," she cut him off, knowing what he was going to offer. "You are pharaoh now. Just as my father had his things moved from the pharaoh's chambers when Tutankhamun was coronated, so it will be with you. The gods understand this is the way, and my brother knows from the Field of Reeds that this is how it has always been. It does not mean that we love him any less. You do him no wrong by embracing your role as pharaoh, but you would do yourself a disservice by demonstrating any hesitation."
He sighed, accepting her words, but his red-brown eyes still bore the same concern. Ka was worried about her, but when wasn't he? He had been worried about her since they were children! But now, there was truly nothing for her to worry about; after a decade of pining, they were finally allowed to be together. After today they would rule the kingdom as husband and wife.
Stroking her jaw with the lightest of touches, he answered, "Nothing has to be rushed, I know you still mourn Tutankhamun. This should be a happy day, not one that dredges up your grief."
"You of all people should know I'm too much an adherent of propriety to already be allowing you to step on rules of royal etiquette." Ankhesenamun bit her bottom lip but couldn't help the smile that eased across her countenance. "And as I still outrank you, you will just have to live with my decision."
"Oh really!?" Ka laughed, pinching her backside and causing her to squirm. "Enjoy pulling rank while you can, love."
She giggled, unable to help the swirl of emotions within her—she had been quietly in love with this man for her entire adult life. In their youth, they already planned to marry each other, but that was before her father, Pharaoh Akhenaten, was poisoned.
It felt like all at once the large, powerful family had dwindled to two. After his successor, Smenkhkare, passed suddenly from a hunting accident, Akhenaten made a deathbed decree in a last ditch effort to save their dynasty: thirteen-year-old Ankhesenamun was to marry her nine-year-old half-brother, Tutankhamun, the only living male heir, to protect their royal bloodline.
Now, at twenty-three, even the sadness and grief of losing her little brother could temper how her feelings of adoration and freedom flowed, no longer inhibited by duty and familial obligation.
Ankhesenamun caught Ka's face in her hands and brought him down to her for a kiss, something she found herself doing quite often. Just a reminder that he was here, holding her, and this wasn't one of her dreams.
"You were right. Anubis has freed us. I will mourn my brother, as all my siblings gone before their time, but the gods want us to live our lives. Tutankhamun will always be our brother, but I won't have his memory keep us from embracing our fate. You will be a strong and wise pharaoh. I am proud to stand by your side."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." Ka smiled, kissing her again with the lopsided grin she adored.
Ankhesenamun loved how tightly he held her, like she was the most precious thing in the whole world to him. As a prince of the palace, a general in the Egyptian army, he had vast wealth, titles, and honors, but it was she who was his greatest prize. When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, his hand fell to her still-flat stomach. "I wouldn't want to do this without either of you."
Smoothing her small, bronze hand over his light golden one, she allowed them a moment of reprieve, to think about nothing other than their family. It would be her, Ka, and their baby. She was only a few weeks along, but had a confidence in this pregnancy, something she had lost in those of her previous marriage. The ones that ended in repeated heartbreak. Ka was here with her now. Everything would fall into place just as it should.
"We cannot bring back the family we have lost, Ankhe," Ka whispered, "But we will have a family together. A new dynasty. We will have so much joy it will overwhelm our grief."
She knew that as an adopted son of Akhenaten himself, he had not only lived through the deaths of his own mother and father, but the deaths of the princes and princesses he had grown up with in the palace at Amarna. Their shared sorrow only brought them closer, Tutankhamun was just the most recent in the long line of tragedies.
"We will...assuming you go to see the high priest this morning. I came here to let you know he officially has summoned you to morning prayer to begin the last purification rituals before the coronation ceremony," Ankhesenamun joked. "You must be at the Temple of Amun by sun up."
Ka sighed, pulling away from her slightly. She could see that he was reluctant to get the day started; that was probably the reason he had bathed on his own and had opted to fix her bed instead of socializing with Vizier Ay and the other political advisors who had been competing for his attention for weeks now. "So it begins."
Smoothing her hands over his tunic front, she let out a breathy laugh. Sometimes Ankhesenamun forgot how much Ka had distanced himself from the nobility in his later years, opting for extended campaigns with the army instead of lounging around the palace yard to hear the latest gossip. He was nervous, and that was okay.
He had always tried his best to shield her from every unkindness the world threw at her, even when she was made queen and he knew he was overstepping. Now Ankhesenamun would return the favor, guiding him in the den of snakes until he got his footing.
"Don't let the high priest's double speak and metaphors unsettle you. It is he who should be worried about impressing you. You witnessed Smenkhkare and Tutankhamun's coronations, this will be no different. You know how this goes."
"I do," Ka agreed, but his downcast gaze suggested that he was miles away from her.
Walking back to the brightly painted doorway, Ankhesenamun turned to look at him. "Now, would you have me accompany you to the great temple? Or would you rather bask alone in your last few minutes as mortal general?"
Without hesitation, Ka closed the space between them, taking her hand in his as they walked out into the corridor.
The coronation room in all of its colorful pillared splendor, was packed with Egyptian nobility that afternoon. Everyone of importance was invited to the grand palace at Thebes this mercifully cool day, and now they stood in reverent silence at the priest's behest.
High Priest Amun stopped, arms out toward the great stone statues on the altar, as he implored the gods to see and honor their new pharaoh. The only movement was of the sweet-smelling smoke incense that curled toward the vaulted ceiling as the queen and soon-to-be pharaoh looked upon the priest dutifully.
While waiting for the high priest to give her a direction in the ensuing ceremonial rituals, Ankhesenamun snuck a glance at Ka and couldn't hide a grin. Her heart soared. He would be a great pharaoh, like that of her great grandfather. Ay tried to scare her away from marrying him by claiming that High General Horemheb would run roughshod over Ka, having been his military superior for so long, and, in turn, gain too much power, but Ankhesenamun truly didn't believe that would be the case.
As he did with all the military men, the vizier underestimated the intelligence of his future pharaoh. Ka knew what needed to be done and knew better than to think any of the noblemen had his best interests at heart.
Between her knowledge of the palace's political and diplomatic maneuverings and his extensive first-hand knowledge of the country's military and foreign dealings, they would rule as a united front, pharaoh and great royal wife. Insulated from the choreographies of others who sought to pull strings, they would bring Egypt into a new golden age.
When the crowd suddenly broke into frenzied murmurs, Ankhesenamun returned from her reverie and turned from the altar to see what had caused the commotion—her younger brother, Tutankhamun, stood proudly at the doorway in peasant rags. His silky black hair was tied back from his face, making his identity clear for all to see. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He was supposed to be dead. He had been killed by the Mitanni on the field of battle a month ago!
"...Is he back from the dead?"
"...Thank the gods!"
"...Does this mean he was rejected by Ma'at? Or did Osiris save him?"
Her brain worked in overdrive while murmurs from the crowd punctuated the uproar. Of course, Ankhesenamun was happy her brother wasn't dead! She loved him! But then the pendulum swung in the other direction as she considered what that meant for her. She would be back to being Tutankhamun's wife, and her love for Ka would be again relegated to stolen moments in the shadows. Could she do that, now? What about their child?
Ka immediately removed the double crown the priest had bestowed upon him and held it out toward Tutankhamun, who continued to advance across the red stone floor. The throngs of guests parted rapidly for him, but he seemed to pay them no mind. His expression was unreadable, and Ankhesenamun's heart pounded. The way he appeared, the way he carried himself, her dear, kind brother looked like a stranger as his gaze fixed solely on Ka.
For being just as surprised and shocked as she was, Ka held his composure by not divulging any particular emotion as he stared back at the pharaoh, his arms out in a non-threatening gesture of deference. There was really nothing else that could be done until they ascertained Tutankhamun's intentions.
The entire room held its collective breath when the two men finally were toe to toe. Nothing had been said, but Tutankhamun opened his arms cordially, embracing his closest friend in a tight hug, and for one shining moment, Ankhesenamun thought everything would be smoothed over. They would talk through this bizarre turn of events, and all would be well.
"Brother, it is so good to see you," Ka remarked with a tight-lipped smile that only Ankhesenamun could see.
Surely, Tutankhamun would rather have had Ka reign in his stead than any of the other candidates. By moving quickly, Ka had protected Ankhesenamun from those that would have sought to marry or do away with her and claim the throne for themselves. He was the only prince of the palace left, and he did his duty to his adopted father.
"You are a betrayer."
Tutankhamun whispered those words into Ka's ear, tears in his eyes as his impassive expression twisted into fury. Ka pulled back slightly, a look of confusion on his face, but Tutankhamun's jaw clenched, and he made no further effort to explain himself. Without hesitation, he unsheathed the ceremonial knife at Ka's side and stabbed him with it.
Historical Glossary:
Amarna — also transliterated as "Ahketaten", Amarna was the capital city of 18th dynasty pharaoh, Akhenaten. It was abandoned after his death in 1332 BCE.
Anubis — the ancient Egyptian god of the dead. His particular concern was the care of the dead and funerary rites. His is portrayed as a man with the head of a jackal.
Field of Reeds — also referred to as "A'Aru", the Field of Reeds was the afterlife, an idealized vision of one's life on earth. Everything lost at death was returned, and one was reunited with everyone the soul had ever loved.
Mitanni — a powerful Hurrian-speaking state in northern Syria and southeast Anatolia. Often a rival of the Egyptian empire due to their power and expansionist tendencies.
Smenkhkare — a co-regent of Pharaoh Akhenaten during is final years, he is thought to be the son of Akhenaten with an unknown wife. He was married to Akhenaten's eldest daughter, Meritaten, who was the daughter of Queen Nefertiti.
Vizier — the highest official to serve the pharaoh. Always of royal blood, they acted as a sort of prime minister, running the country on the pharaoh's behalf.