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All Hail the Queen! Born to a status of princess, it has only been six years since before Hatshepsut - only child and daughter of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma - is now to be crowned Queen upon the death of her father. Queen Dowager Isetheperu has taken charge of the event and the Council are all to be in attendance. The little six year old, already displaying signs of great beauty in her future, is to be heralded, crowned and worshipped as the Queen of Queens - the monarch and leader of the most powerful kingdom in the known world...
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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All Hail the Queen! Born to a status of princess, it has only been six years since before Hatshepsut - only child and daughter of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma - is now to be crowned Queen upon the death of her father. Queen Dowager Isetheperu has taken charge of the event and the Council are all to be in attendance. The little six year old, already displaying signs of great beauty in her future, is to be heralded, crowned and worshipped as the Queen of Queens - the monarch and leader of the most powerful kingdom in the known world...
The Child-Like Empress Provincial Story - Egypt
All Hail the Queen! Born to a status of princess, it has only been six years since before Hatshepsut - only child and daughter of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma - is now to be crowned Queen upon the death of her father. Queen Dowager Isetheperu has taken charge of the event and the Council are all to be in attendance. The little six year old, already displaying signs of great beauty in her future, is to be heralded, crowned and worshipped as the Queen of Queens - the monarch and leader of the most powerful kingdom in the known world...
Her father was never coming back.
She knew that now.
For how could she become Queen when the King was still alive?
Last night, Hatshepsut had dreamed about him. He was standing before Anubis and Thoth, watching as the ibis-headed god placed his ka … which looked like a glowing ball of iridescent light ... on one of the plates of a golden scale. There was a worried look on his face as a feather was placed on the other plate, and he sighed in relief when that plate lowered, raising his ka up. Part of the wall swung open and before he entered the afterlife, he looked straight at his daughter and smiled.
It was his smile she missed the most.
Maybe the gods had sent her the dream to assure her that all was well with her father and that it was time for her to take his place. She had taken part in his burial ceremony as a royal successor was required to do. It had seemed unreal. His gleaming sarcophagus had been beautiful but it was cold to the touch. She remembered her father's arms around her, wrapping her in their warmth. And when he was sealed into his tomb, she had wondered how he would be able to get out.
Now she knew he never would.
I don't want to be Queen, she thought as she sat on a stool while her attendants braided her long dark hair. She was a shy child, and she didn't look forward to being paraded in front of all of Egypt. However, she knew her duty. It had been drummed into her head ever since she could remember. But she had thought she would be grown up when she took the throne, not only six years old. There were so many things that she couldn't do now.
Idly, Hatshepsut pulled at her golden kalisaris. It chafed against her skin and she wished she didn't have to wear it. One of her attendants gave her a disapproving look and she pulled it back in place, fidgeting upon the stool. She hated sitting still for so long. After her hair was braided, her makeup would be done. That was the only part of the day she was looking forward to … having her face painted as prettily as her mother's.
She would get to wear a wig too. It was sitting on a stand upon the table, made of many tiny braids with golden beads at the end of each one. She had tried it on yesterday and had liked the way the beads tinkled when she shook her head. Maybe being Queen wouldn't be so bad after all if she got to wear wigs and makeup.
Still she was nervous about appearing in front of of so many people. They would all be watching her as the crown was set upon her head. This time, she would not be able to hide behind her mother's skirts and peek out at them. Hatshepsut gulped, and her small body began to tremble. Where was Mommy? Where was Zosie? She needed them both now more than ever before in her life.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Her father was never coming back.
She knew that now.
For how could she become Queen when the King was still alive?
Last night, Hatshepsut had dreamed about him. He was standing before Anubis and Thoth, watching as the ibis-headed god placed his ka … which looked like a glowing ball of iridescent light ... on one of the plates of a golden scale. There was a worried look on his face as a feather was placed on the other plate, and he sighed in relief when that plate lowered, raising his ka up. Part of the wall swung open and before he entered the afterlife, he looked straight at his daughter and smiled.
It was his smile she missed the most.
Maybe the gods had sent her the dream to assure her that all was well with her father and that it was time for her to take his place. She had taken part in his burial ceremony as a royal successor was required to do. It had seemed unreal. His gleaming sarcophagus had been beautiful but it was cold to the touch. She remembered her father's arms around her, wrapping her in their warmth. And when he was sealed into his tomb, she had wondered how he would be able to get out.
Now she knew he never would.
I don't want to be Queen, she thought as she sat on a stool while her attendants braided her long dark hair. She was a shy child, and she didn't look forward to being paraded in front of all of Egypt. However, she knew her duty. It had been drummed into her head ever since she could remember. But she had thought she would be grown up when she took the throne, not only six years old. There were so many things that she couldn't do now.
Idly, Hatshepsut pulled at her golden kalisaris. It chafed against her skin and she wished she didn't have to wear it. One of her attendants gave her a disapproving look and she pulled it back in place, fidgeting upon the stool. She hated sitting still for so long. After her hair was braided, her makeup would be done. That was the only part of the day she was looking forward to … having her face painted as prettily as her mother's.
She would get to wear a wig too. It was sitting on a stand upon the table, made of many tiny braids with golden beads at the end of each one. She had tried it on yesterday and had liked the way the beads tinkled when she shook her head. Maybe being Queen wouldn't be so bad after all if she got to wear wigs and makeup.
Still she was nervous about appearing in front of of so many people. They would all be watching her as the crown was set upon her head. This time, she would not be able to hide behind her mother's skirts and peek out at them. Hatshepsut gulped, and her small body began to tremble. Where was Mommy? Where was Zosie? She needed them both now more than ever before in her life.
Her father was never coming back.
She knew that now.
For how could she become Queen when the King was still alive?
Last night, Hatshepsut had dreamed about him. He was standing before Anubis and Thoth, watching as the ibis-headed god placed his ka … which looked like a glowing ball of iridescent light ... on one of the plates of a golden scale. There was a worried look on his face as a feather was placed on the other plate, and he sighed in relief when that plate lowered, raising his ka up. Part of the wall swung open and before he entered the afterlife, he looked straight at his daughter and smiled.
It was his smile she missed the most.
Maybe the gods had sent her the dream to assure her that all was well with her father and that it was time for her to take his place. She had taken part in his burial ceremony as a royal successor was required to do. It had seemed unreal. His gleaming sarcophagus had been beautiful but it was cold to the touch. She remembered her father's arms around her, wrapping her in their warmth. And when he was sealed into his tomb, she had wondered how he would be able to get out.
Now she knew he never would.
I don't want to be Queen, she thought as she sat on a stool while her attendants braided her long dark hair. She was a shy child, and she didn't look forward to being paraded in front of all of Egypt. However, she knew her duty. It had been drummed into her head ever since she could remember. But she had thought she would be grown up when she took the throne, not only six years old. There were so many things that she couldn't do now.
Idly, Hatshepsut pulled at her golden kalisaris. It chafed against her skin and she wished she didn't have to wear it. One of her attendants gave her a disapproving look and she pulled it back in place, fidgeting upon the stool. She hated sitting still for so long. After her hair was braided, her makeup would be done. That was the only part of the day she was looking forward to … having her face painted as prettily as her mother's.
She would get to wear a wig too. It was sitting on a stand upon the table, made of many tiny braids with golden beads at the end of each one. She had tried it on yesterday and had liked the way the beads tinkled when she shook her head. Maybe being Queen wouldn't be so bad after all if she got to wear wigs and makeup.
Still she was nervous about appearing in front of of so many people. They would all be watching her as the crown was set upon her head. This time, she would not be able to hide behind her mother's skirts and peek out at them. Hatshepsut gulped, and her small body began to tremble. Where was Mommy? Where was Zosie? She needed them both now more than ever before in her life.
The death of the Pharoah had rocked the kingdom, as well as the repercussions of having a six-year old Queen to follow. It was common knowledge that, truthfully, the young Queen would grow into such a position, with the Queen Dowager and the Council to guide her, particularly in these early, formative years.
Then again, Zoser had mental flashes of hilarity at an entire kingdom bending to the will of someone not much older than a toddler. Young Hatshepsut did have a strain within her that seemed older than her years, which Zoser experienced firsthand in every little lesson he taught her, but she was still a child.
Since returning to Egypt two years prior, that had been where fortune found him, as a tutor to the young Princess in addition to his several duties among the Royal Scribes. Despite his first ten years of life being on Egyptian soil, the following eighteen years in Athenia resulted in a world-rocking culture shock upon return - and the conditions under which he was summoned.
There had been little to nothing in the way of resolution with General Osorsen of Hei Moghadam. Zoser struggled silently with the man who had cast him away to Greece all those years ago only to have him all abducted from his life at the University of Athenia to use his knowledge against the the very realm that he had come to call home. It was a far less-than-ideal homecoming and resulted in more questions than it did answers.
Here, two years hence, he had even fewer answers but enough responsibilities and tasks to keep him from rocking the boat.
With his black hair cropped close yet still attempting to curl and his eyes lined with khol appropriate to his station, Zoser rapped lightly on the door of the royal dressing chamber, taking a moment to straighten his ornamentation - far more elaborate than the comfortable chitons and tunics he wore in Greece...
As a servant bid him enter, his eyes immediately fell on the young Queen, shimmering and golden as she stood to finish her preparations. Catching her eye, he beamed brightly and knelt down to one knee in a deep bow, "Oh, Your Evening Radiance. You shine more brightly than ever, I shall likely go blind."
Lifting his head up from his bow, he feigned covering his eyes a moment before offering her a comforting smile and crossing to her. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure that the Queen Dowager was not right behind him before extending his arms to offer a warm embrace to the young girl.
Zoser adored Hatshepsut, not only as his Queen and monarch, but as the bright, sparkling soul that hid behind shy eyes, one that questioned everything in the world around her and craved love and affection in a world where distance was necessary. Despite the distinct differences in their stations, Zoser indulged her, with the beautiful excuse that - well, it was in fact a queen's order, was it not?
"It is a big day. Are you ready?" he asked, then noting the look of concern that had not quite faded from her nubile expression, "I will be right there to help you, the whole way. I promise."
A promise made to a child was more valuable than gold and jewels. Zoser had yet to break a promise to the young Queen.
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The death of the Pharoah had rocked the kingdom, as well as the repercussions of having a six-year old Queen to follow. It was common knowledge that, truthfully, the young Queen would grow into such a position, with the Queen Dowager and the Council to guide her, particularly in these early, formative years.
Then again, Zoser had mental flashes of hilarity at an entire kingdom bending to the will of someone not much older than a toddler. Young Hatshepsut did have a strain within her that seemed older than her years, which Zoser experienced firsthand in every little lesson he taught her, but she was still a child.
Since returning to Egypt two years prior, that had been where fortune found him, as a tutor to the young Princess in addition to his several duties among the Royal Scribes. Despite his first ten years of life being on Egyptian soil, the following eighteen years in Athenia resulted in a world-rocking culture shock upon return - and the conditions under which he was summoned.
There had been little to nothing in the way of resolution with General Osorsen of Hei Moghadam. Zoser struggled silently with the man who had cast him away to Greece all those years ago only to have him all abducted from his life at the University of Athenia to use his knowledge against the the very realm that he had come to call home. It was a far less-than-ideal homecoming and resulted in more questions than it did answers.
Here, two years hence, he had even fewer answers but enough responsibilities and tasks to keep him from rocking the boat.
With his black hair cropped close yet still attempting to curl and his eyes lined with khol appropriate to his station, Zoser rapped lightly on the door of the royal dressing chamber, taking a moment to straighten his ornamentation - far more elaborate than the comfortable chitons and tunics he wore in Greece...
As a servant bid him enter, his eyes immediately fell on the young Queen, shimmering and golden as she stood to finish her preparations. Catching her eye, he beamed brightly and knelt down to one knee in a deep bow, "Oh, Your Evening Radiance. You shine more brightly than ever, I shall likely go blind."
Lifting his head up from his bow, he feigned covering his eyes a moment before offering her a comforting smile and crossing to her. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure that the Queen Dowager was not right behind him before extending his arms to offer a warm embrace to the young girl.
Zoser adored Hatshepsut, not only as his Queen and monarch, but as the bright, sparkling soul that hid behind shy eyes, one that questioned everything in the world around her and craved love and affection in a world where distance was necessary. Despite the distinct differences in their stations, Zoser indulged her, with the beautiful excuse that - well, it was in fact a queen's order, was it not?
"It is a big day. Are you ready?" he asked, then noting the look of concern that had not quite faded from her nubile expression, "I will be right there to help you, the whole way. I promise."
A promise made to a child was more valuable than gold and jewels. Zoser had yet to break a promise to the young Queen.
The death of the Pharoah had rocked the kingdom, as well as the repercussions of having a six-year old Queen to follow. It was common knowledge that, truthfully, the young Queen would grow into such a position, with the Queen Dowager and the Council to guide her, particularly in these early, formative years.
Then again, Zoser had mental flashes of hilarity at an entire kingdom bending to the will of someone not much older than a toddler. Young Hatshepsut did have a strain within her that seemed older than her years, which Zoser experienced firsthand in every little lesson he taught her, but she was still a child.
Since returning to Egypt two years prior, that had been where fortune found him, as a tutor to the young Princess in addition to his several duties among the Royal Scribes. Despite his first ten years of life being on Egyptian soil, the following eighteen years in Athenia resulted in a world-rocking culture shock upon return - and the conditions under which he was summoned.
There had been little to nothing in the way of resolution with General Osorsen of Hei Moghadam. Zoser struggled silently with the man who had cast him away to Greece all those years ago only to have him all abducted from his life at the University of Athenia to use his knowledge against the the very realm that he had come to call home. It was a far less-than-ideal homecoming and resulted in more questions than it did answers.
Here, two years hence, he had even fewer answers but enough responsibilities and tasks to keep him from rocking the boat.
With his black hair cropped close yet still attempting to curl and his eyes lined with khol appropriate to his station, Zoser rapped lightly on the door of the royal dressing chamber, taking a moment to straighten his ornamentation - far more elaborate than the comfortable chitons and tunics he wore in Greece...
As a servant bid him enter, his eyes immediately fell on the young Queen, shimmering and golden as she stood to finish her preparations. Catching her eye, he beamed brightly and knelt down to one knee in a deep bow, "Oh, Your Evening Radiance. You shine more brightly than ever, I shall likely go blind."
Lifting his head up from his bow, he feigned covering his eyes a moment before offering her a comforting smile and crossing to her. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure that the Queen Dowager was not right behind him before extending his arms to offer a warm embrace to the young girl.
Zoser adored Hatshepsut, not only as his Queen and monarch, but as the bright, sparkling soul that hid behind shy eyes, one that questioned everything in the world around her and craved love and affection in a world where distance was necessary. Despite the distinct differences in their stations, Zoser indulged her, with the beautiful excuse that - well, it was in fact a queen's order, was it not?
"It is a big day. Are you ready?" he asked, then noting the look of concern that had not quite faded from her nubile expression, "I will be right there to help you, the whole way. I promise."
A promise made to a child was more valuable than gold and jewels. Zoser had yet to break a promise to the young Queen.
Hatshepsut tried hard not to giggle one of her servants applied her makeup. She had to keep her head completely still but it was difficult because the ivory stick used to line her eyes with kohl and paint her eyelids with malachite tickled as it lightly stroked her skin. If she moved, the stick might slip and then they would have to start all over again. Her trembling had momentarily stopped at the excitement of wearing cosmetics, though it took such a long time that she struggled to keep from fidgeting on the stool.
After her eyes were done, red ochre was brushed upon her lips and cheeks, and that tickled even more. Finally, the servant stepped away and studied her handiwork while another picked up the little Queen's wig and placed it upon her head, tucking her long ebony braid up beneath it. The first thing Hatshepsut did was shake her head so that the beads jingled merrily. It was heavy, she noticed for the first time, and she already wished that she could take it off.
“May I get up now?” she asked a servant. She might be Queen but she was still only six years old and was accustomed to asking for permission from the women who regularly dressed her. “I want to see what I look like.”
“Of course, Your Evening Radiance,” the attendant replied. Hopping to her feet, Hatshepsut walked over to her mirror and gasped at the reflection she saw there. She didn't look like herself at all, but a miniature copy of her beautiful mother. The makeup felt a bit stiff on her face when she smiled, revealing a couple of missing lower teeth. They had fallen out only a few weeks ago and now another one was loose. She tended to run her tongue over it to feel it jiggle, but she knew she couldn't do that today.
As she was admiring herself, there was a knock on the door. Expecting either her mother or Zosie, she nodded to one of her servants to open it. Her face lit up when she beheld her beloved tutor, pleased that he was here before her mother. Her mother would not approve of the affection between them, and would admonish her for not being formal with him.
He did bow to her formally, falling to one knee, but not before she saw the grin on his face. Hatshepsut didn't know if she would ever become accustomed to being called 'Your Evening Radiance.' In her own young mind, she was still Princess Hatshepsut. She laughed at his words and the way he covered his eyes. “You better not go blind, Zosie. Then I will be really mad at you because I will have to get another tutor.” After a moment of thought, her eyes narrowed mischievously. “You're just teasing me. I am not as bright as Ra.”
When he closed the distance between them and opened his arms, Hatshepsut didn't hesitate. She ran right into his embrace and hugged him tightly around his waist, which was about as high as she could reach. The little girl needed his comfort more than she ever had, and as he spoke again, her fright came rushing back and she began to tremble in his arms. “I don't want to be Queen,” she declared, her cheek pressed against him She didn't even care if she smeared her beautiful makeup. “I don't want to do this at all. I just want to run through the gardens and chase the peacocks. Why can't Mommy be Queen instead of me?”
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Hatshepsut tried hard not to giggle one of her servants applied her makeup. She had to keep her head completely still but it was difficult because the ivory stick used to line her eyes with kohl and paint her eyelids with malachite tickled as it lightly stroked her skin. If she moved, the stick might slip and then they would have to start all over again. Her trembling had momentarily stopped at the excitement of wearing cosmetics, though it took such a long time that she struggled to keep from fidgeting on the stool.
After her eyes were done, red ochre was brushed upon her lips and cheeks, and that tickled even more. Finally, the servant stepped away and studied her handiwork while another picked up the little Queen's wig and placed it upon her head, tucking her long ebony braid up beneath it. The first thing Hatshepsut did was shake her head so that the beads jingled merrily. It was heavy, she noticed for the first time, and she already wished that she could take it off.
“May I get up now?” she asked a servant. She might be Queen but she was still only six years old and was accustomed to asking for permission from the women who regularly dressed her. “I want to see what I look like.”
“Of course, Your Evening Radiance,” the attendant replied. Hopping to her feet, Hatshepsut walked over to her mirror and gasped at the reflection she saw there. She didn't look like herself at all, but a miniature copy of her beautiful mother. The makeup felt a bit stiff on her face when she smiled, revealing a couple of missing lower teeth. They had fallen out only a few weeks ago and now another one was loose. She tended to run her tongue over it to feel it jiggle, but she knew she couldn't do that today.
As she was admiring herself, there was a knock on the door. Expecting either her mother or Zosie, she nodded to one of her servants to open it. Her face lit up when she beheld her beloved tutor, pleased that he was here before her mother. Her mother would not approve of the affection between them, and would admonish her for not being formal with him.
He did bow to her formally, falling to one knee, but not before she saw the grin on his face. Hatshepsut didn't know if she would ever become accustomed to being called 'Your Evening Radiance.' In her own young mind, she was still Princess Hatshepsut. She laughed at his words and the way he covered his eyes. “You better not go blind, Zosie. Then I will be really mad at you because I will have to get another tutor.” After a moment of thought, her eyes narrowed mischievously. “You're just teasing me. I am not as bright as Ra.”
When he closed the distance between them and opened his arms, Hatshepsut didn't hesitate. She ran right into his embrace and hugged him tightly around his waist, which was about as high as she could reach. The little girl needed his comfort more than she ever had, and as he spoke again, her fright came rushing back and she began to tremble in his arms. “I don't want to be Queen,” she declared, her cheek pressed against him She didn't even care if she smeared her beautiful makeup. “I don't want to do this at all. I just want to run through the gardens and chase the peacocks. Why can't Mommy be Queen instead of me?”
Hatshepsut tried hard not to giggle one of her servants applied her makeup. She had to keep her head completely still but it was difficult because the ivory stick used to line her eyes with kohl and paint her eyelids with malachite tickled as it lightly stroked her skin. If she moved, the stick might slip and then they would have to start all over again. Her trembling had momentarily stopped at the excitement of wearing cosmetics, though it took such a long time that she struggled to keep from fidgeting on the stool.
After her eyes were done, red ochre was brushed upon her lips and cheeks, and that tickled even more. Finally, the servant stepped away and studied her handiwork while another picked up the little Queen's wig and placed it upon her head, tucking her long ebony braid up beneath it. The first thing Hatshepsut did was shake her head so that the beads jingled merrily. It was heavy, she noticed for the first time, and she already wished that she could take it off.
“May I get up now?” she asked a servant. She might be Queen but she was still only six years old and was accustomed to asking for permission from the women who regularly dressed her. “I want to see what I look like.”
“Of course, Your Evening Radiance,” the attendant replied. Hopping to her feet, Hatshepsut walked over to her mirror and gasped at the reflection she saw there. She didn't look like herself at all, but a miniature copy of her beautiful mother. The makeup felt a bit stiff on her face when she smiled, revealing a couple of missing lower teeth. They had fallen out only a few weeks ago and now another one was loose. She tended to run her tongue over it to feel it jiggle, but she knew she couldn't do that today.
As she was admiring herself, there was a knock on the door. Expecting either her mother or Zosie, she nodded to one of her servants to open it. Her face lit up when she beheld her beloved tutor, pleased that he was here before her mother. Her mother would not approve of the affection between them, and would admonish her for not being formal with him.
He did bow to her formally, falling to one knee, but not before she saw the grin on his face. Hatshepsut didn't know if she would ever become accustomed to being called 'Your Evening Radiance.' In her own young mind, she was still Princess Hatshepsut. She laughed at his words and the way he covered his eyes. “You better not go blind, Zosie. Then I will be really mad at you because I will have to get another tutor.” After a moment of thought, her eyes narrowed mischievously. “You're just teasing me. I am not as bright as Ra.”
When he closed the distance between them and opened his arms, Hatshepsut didn't hesitate. She ran right into his embrace and hugged him tightly around his waist, which was about as high as she could reach. The little girl needed his comfort more than she ever had, and as he spoke again, her fright came rushing back and she began to tremble in his arms. “I don't want to be Queen,” she declared, her cheek pressed against him She didn't even care if she smeared her beautiful makeup. “I don't want to do this at all. I just want to run through the gardens and chase the peacocks. Why can't Mommy be Queen instead of me?”
The event was part joyous and reverent, with the Queen ascending so young and her father dying so suddenly foregrounding a reserved celebration. Iaheru’s arm fell into the space between her son’s, a smirk accentuated by lining carmine drawn ambiguously across her cheeks. Had the Pharaoh’s death not been so sudden, she would have planned another visit to Greece, taking her children away on a ship far away from this unnecessary pomp.
It was a true blessing from Anubis that she was alone when she heard of the King of Kings passing. The only reason she cried was because Imopehatsuma wasn’t left to the sands to bloat and rot. Since the evening that secretly brought about the young man she clutched, quickly surpassing her own height at a ripe age of 14, she had spent nights fantasizing about vultures plucking out the Pharaoh’s eyes, his soul forever wandering without the tools or appendages needed to sail to afterlife. Before she cried though, she poured a large glass of wine, exhaling, and was overcome with relieving laughter. No longer would Imopehatsuma dangle his prize, the untouched jewel of Egypt, in front of her when they graciously hosted court at Saraaya Sheifa. There would be no more gentle bristlings against the low of her back, her diplomatic husband amazed at his commoner wife’s social graces to earn the Pharaoh’s ear when it came to aspects of trade, business, and politics. And a night unspoken when she shed humanity for duty, an object at the whims of Ra on Earth. It was a blessing yet again that Onuphrious was in the customs house that evening, because she celebrated the death of the Pharaoh with such exhilarating fervor it bordered on treason.
Iaheru’s insides coiled and wrung themselves with guilt when she gazed on the emergent Queen. She could only squeeze against her son, handsome features dawning on eyes deeper in color and intensity to his known father. He served as her escort for the evening, unknowing to the fact that he was the true Pharaoh by blood and that this young girl would have to bear an unnecessary burden beyond an overbearing mother. In this moment, clutching her son, this smirk dissipated to a blank expression as her perceived noble pursuit of protecting her son from the tyranny of his true father, by maintaining her family on the falsification of Sutekh’s parentage, she had deprived both her son of his birthright and this young girl of a childhood.
Iaheru spared no expense for herself to celebrate the Pharaoh’s passing. Her kalasaris and headwraps dangled with golden beads, the fabric itself a batik of papyrus fronds and tightly pulled against her youthful frame. Their children, as the heirs to the most prominent house in Egypt short of H’Naddar, were dressed as if they were at a station slightly below Hathesput. Perhaps they were dressed inappropriately so. Iaheru always preferred to overdress in the presence of her employer and friend, Queen Dowager Isetheperu, solely to demarcate herself from a previous life as a retainer, as a commoner, and, most recently, as a mistress to the Pharaoh. Isetheperu had become distant, if not venomous, to Iaheru since that evening. While Onuphrious remained ignorant, the Queen Dowager certainly had not, distaste palpable in the distance that would only increase in the days following Pharaoh Imopehatsuma’s death, yet another facet between Iaheru H’Sheifa and Queen Dowager Isetherperu H’Naddar’s strange relation.
Iaheru, as much as she didn't want to come, was determined to have a good time. Or, at the very least, pretend she was on what was rightfully Sutekh's ascension. Even if she had dressed in rags, the secret so sweet and destructive that prickled her tongue trumped any dispute between Isetheperu and herself.
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The event was part joyous and reverent, with the Queen ascending so young and her father dying so suddenly foregrounding a reserved celebration. Iaheru’s arm fell into the space between her son’s, a smirk accentuated by lining carmine drawn ambiguously across her cheeks. Had the Pharaoh’s death not been so sudden, she would have planned another visit to Greece, taking her children away on a ship far away from this unnecessary pomp.
It was a true blessing from Anubis that she was alone when she heard of the King of Kings passing. The only reason she cried was because Imopehatsuma wasn’t left to the sands to bloat and rot. Since the evening that secretly brought about the young man she clutched, quickly surpassing her own height at a ripe age of 14, she had spent nights fantasizing about vultures plucking out the Pharaoh’s eyes, his soul forever wandering without the tools or appendages needed to sail to afterlife. Before she cried though, she poured a large glass of wine, exhaling, and was overcome with relieving laughter. No longer would Imopehatsuma dangle his prize, the untouched jewel of Egypt, in front of her when they graciously hosted court at Saraaya Sheifa. There would be no more gentle bristlings against the low of her back, her diplomatic husband amazed at his commoner wife’s social graces to earn the Pharaoh’s ear when it came to aspects of trade, business, and politics. And a night unspoken when she shed humanity for duty, an object at the whims of Ra on Earth. It was a blessing yet again that Onuphrious was in the customs house that evening, because she celebrated the death of the Pharaoh with such exhilarating fervor it bordered on treason.
Iaheru’s insides coiled and wrung themselves with guilt when she gazed on the emergent Queen. She could only squeeze against her son, handsome features dawning on eyes deeper in color and intensity to his known father. He served as her escort for the evening, unknowing to the fact that he was the true Pharaoh by blood and that this young girl would have to bear an unnecessary burden beyond an overbearing mother. In this moment, clutching her son, this smirk dissipated to a blank expression as her perceived noble pursuit of protecting her son from the tyranny of his true father, by maintaining her family on the falsification of Sutekh’s parentage, she had deprived both her son of his birthright and this young girl of a childhood.
Iaheru spared no expense for herself to celebrate the Pharaoh’s passing. Her kalasaris and headwraps dangled with golden beads, the fabric itself a batik of papyrus fronds and tightly pulled against her youthful frame. Their children, as the heirs to the most prominent house in Egypt short of H’Naddar, were dressed as if they were at a station slightly below Hathesput. Perhaps they were dressed inappropriately so. Iaheru always preferred to overdress in the presence of her employer and friend, Queen Dowager Isetheperu, solely to demarcate herself from a previous life as a retainer, as a commoner, and, most recently, as a mistress to the Pharaoh. Isetheperu had become distant, if not venomous, to Iaheru since that evening. While Onuphrious remained ignorant, the Queen Dowager certainly had not, distaste palpable in the distance that would only increase in the days following Pharaoh Imopehatsuma’s death, yet another facet between Iaheru H’Sheifa and Queen Dowager Isetherperu H’Naddar’s strange relation.
Iaheru, as much as she didn't want to come, was determined to have a good time. Or, at the very least, pretend she was on what was rightfully Sutekh's ascension. Even if she had dressed in rags, the secret so sweet and destructive that prickled her tongue trumped any dispute between Isetheperu and herself.
The event was part joyous and reverent, with the Queen ascending so young and her father dying so suddenly foregrounding a reserved celebration. Iaheru’s arm fell into the space between her son’s, a smirk accentuated by lining carmine drawn ambiguously across her cheeks. Had the Pharaoh’s death not been so sudden, she would have planned another visit to Greece, taking her children away on a ship far away from this unnecessary pomp.
It was a true blessing from Anubis that she was alone when she heard of the King of Kings passing. The only reason she cried was because Imopehatsuma wasn’t left to the sands to bloat and rot. Since the evening that secretly brought about the young man she clutched, quickly surpassing her own height at a ripe age of 14, she had spent nights fantasizing about vultures plucking out the Pharaoh’s eyes, his soul forever wandering without the tools or appendages needed to sail to afterlife. Before she cried though, she poured a large glass of wine, exhaling, and was overcome with relieving laughter. No longer would Imopehatsuma dangle his prize, the untouched jewel of Egypt, in front of her when they graciously hosted court at Saraaya Sheifa. There would be no more gentle bristlings against the low of her back, her diplomatic husband amazed at his commoner wife’s social graces to earn the Pharaoh’s ear when it came to aspects of trade, business, and politics. And a night unspoken when she shed humanity for duty, an object at the whims of Ra on Earth. It was a blessing yet again that Onuphrious was in the customs house that evening, because she celebrated the death of the Pharaoh with such exhilarating fervor it bordered on treason.
Iaheru’s insides coiled and wrung themselves with guilt when she gazed on the emergent Queen. She could only squeeze against her son, handsome features dawning on eyes deeper in color and intensity to his known father. He served as her escort for the evening, unknowing to the fact that he was the true Pharaoh by blood and that this young girl would have to bear an unnecessary burden beyond an overbearing mother. In this moment, clutching her son, this smirk dissipated to a blank expression as her perceived noble pursuit of protecting her son from the tyranny of his true father, by maintaining her family on the falsification of Sutekh’s parentage, she had deprived both her son of his birthright and this young girl of a childhood.
Iaheru spared no expense for herself to celebrate the Pharaoh’s passing. Her kalasaris and headwraps dangled with golden beads, the fabric itself a batik of papyrus fronds and tightly pulled against her youthful frame. Their children, as the heirs to the most prominent house in Egypt short of H’Naddar, were dressed as if they were at a station slightly below Hathesput. Perhaps they were dressed inappropriately so. Iaheru always preferred to overdress in the presence of her employer and friend, Queen Dowager Isetheperu, solely to demarcate herself from a previous life as a retainer, as a commoner, and, most recently, as a mistress to the Pharaoh. Isetheperu had become distant, if not venomous, to Iaheru since that evening. While Onuphrious remained ignorant, the Queen Dowager certainly had not, distaste palpable in the distance that would only increase in the days following Pharaoh Imopehatsuma’s death, yet another facet between Iaheru H’Sheifa and Queen Dowager Isetherperu H’Naddar’s strange relation.
Iaheru, as much as she didn't want to come, was determined to have a good time. Or, at the very least, pretend she was on what was rightfully Sutekh's ascension. Even if she had dressed in rags, the secret so sweet and destructive that prickled her tongue trumped any dispute between Isetheperu and herself.
Zoser could only barely stifle what would have been a deep laugh at his royal pupil's retort, the laugh turning to an uneven rumble in his chest that he hid behind the back of his hand against his lips. There was a spirit within the young girl that would carry Egypt forward throughout the age to come - though the gods had been cruel to have pressed this burden upon her at an age where it was impossible to conceptualize it. Thinking on it a moment, his heart ached for her, yet it was immediately soothed as her arms wrapped around his waist.
His hands immediately wrapped around to embrace her in return, catching the oddity of the looks from the servants before a silent tilt of his head excused them into the next room. As the quiet shuffle of their skirts marked their exit, Zoser's brows raised to deepen fresh lines of worry across his forehead as he heard her near tearful exclamations.
Pouting slightly, he unfurled his arms around her shoulders a bit and then returned to one knee once again so he could meet her nearly at her eye level. In crouching down so far, her youth became more prevalent. Despite the ornamentations and delicately designed cosmetics that were applied to her lips, cheeks, and eyelids, Zoser simply saw a young girl who had only just mastered the writing of her own name - something that, in her position, she would never need to do as she would have a Palace full of scribes at her will. Still, it was a milestone in her growth....and a marker for how long she had to go before her true regality would weigh upon her. Until then, he knew the Queen Dowager Isethperu would do all in her power to lay a strong foundation for their new queen.
"Now, now," Zoser offered, his voice comforting as he set a wide hand upon her shoulder and used the other to tilt her chin up slightly to look at him, almost whispering to keep the eavesdropping servants from overhearing, "Don't cry, little songbird..." There was no secret that the now-Queen had a love for all music, and often found herself humming or singing to herself when she should focus on her lessons. A spark of an idea at the recollection urged him forward.
"Your mother is not the daughter of the Pharaoh, but you are," he offered, his voice and expression soft and encouraging as he offered her a gentle smile, "The gods chose you to be Queen and remember - the gods are never wrong." Leaning in as if to whisper her a little secret, he whispered as if to make her laugh as he said, "They know even more than me."
He laughed, hoping she would follow as well. More times than he could count, the former Princess had accused him of knowing everything, and unable to tame his own humor or to ever invite a doubt in her mind, Zoser never disagreed.
"Besides, do you know the best part about being Queen?" His voice was more chipper and excited, trying to redirect her thoughts and emotions away from her nervousness, "As Queen...if you want to go chase peacocks in the gardens? You can. You're the Queen! They are your gardens and your peacocks now."[/b]
It was not entirely true, but if it took away just a fragment of fear before this big day and lifted her spirits, he would allow it. Though, to be cautious in case the Queen Dowager or another member of importance entered, he added quickly, "But, we must always do our work first, right? Just like in lessons. We do our tasks first, then we can play."
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Zoser could only barely stifle what would have been a deep laugh at his royal pupil's retort, the laugh turning to an uneven rumble in his chest that he hid behind the back of his hand against his lips. There was a spirit within the young girl that would carry Egypt forward throughout the age to come - though the gods had been cruel to have pressed this burden upon her at an age where it was impossible to conceptualize it. Thinking on it a moment, his heart ached for her, yet it was immediately soothed as her arms wrapped around his waist.
His hands immediately wrapped around to embrace her in return, catching the oddity of the looks from the servants before a silent tilt of his head excused them into the next room. As the quiet shuffle of their skirts marked their exit, Zoser's brows raised to deepen fresh lines of worry across his forehead as he heard her near tearful exclamations.
Pouting slightly, he unfurled his arms around her shoulders a bit and then returned to one knee once again so he could meet her nearly at her eye level. In crouching down so far, her youth became more prevalent. Despite the ornamentations and delicately designed cosmetics that were applied to her lips, cheeks, and eyelids, Zoser simply saw a young girl who had only just mastered the writing of her own name - something that, in her position, she would never need to do as she would have a Palace full of scribes at her will. Still, it was a milestone in her growth....and a marker for how long she had to go before her true regality would weigh upon her. Until then, he knew the Queen Dowager Isethperu would do all in her power to lay a strong foundation for their new queen.
"Now, now," Zoser offered, his voice comforting as he set a wide hand upon her shoulder and used the other to tilt her chin up slightly to look at him, almost whispering to keep the eavesdropping servants from overhearing, "Don't cry, little songbird..." There was no secret that the now-Queen had a love for all music, and often found herself humming or singing to herself when she should focus on her lessons. A spark of an idea at the recollection urged him forward.
"Your mother is not the daughter of the Pharaoh, but you are," he offered, his voice and expression soft and encouraging as he offered her a gentle smile, "The gods chose you to be Queen and remember - the gods are never wrong." Leaning in as if to whisper her a little secret, he whispered as if to make her laugh as he said, "They know even more than me."
He laughed, hoping she would follow as well. More times than he could count, the former Princess had accused him of knowing everything, and unable to tame his own humor or to ever invite a doubt in her mind, Zoser never disagreed.
"Besides, do you know the best part about being Queen?" His voice was more chipper and excited, trying to redirect her thoughts and emotions away from her nervousness, "As Queen...if you want to go chase peacocks in the gardens? You can. You're the Queen! They are your gardens and your peacocks now."[/b]
It was not entirely true, but if it took away just a fragment of fear before this big day and lifted her spirits, he would allow it. Though, to be cautious in case the Queen Dowager or another member of importance entered, he added quickly, "But, we must always do our work first, right? Just like in lessons. We do our tasks first, then we can play."
Zoser could only barely stifle what would have been a deep laugh at his royal pupil's retort, the laugh turning to an uneven rumble in his chest that he hid behind the back of his hand against his lips. There was a spirit within the young girl that would carry Egypt forward throughout the age to come - though the gods had been cruel to have pressed this burden upon her at an age where it was impossible to conceptualize it. Thinking on it a moment, his heart ached for her, yet it was immediately soothed as her arms wrapped around his waist.
His hands immediately wrapped around to embrace her in return, catching the oddity of the looks from the servants before a silent tilt of his head excused them into the next room. As the quiet shuffle of their skirts marked their exit, Zoser's brows raised to deepen fresh lines of worry across his forehead as he heard her near tearful exclamations.
Pouting slightly, he unfurled his arms around her shoulders a bit and then returned to one knee once again so he could meet her nearly at her eye level. In crouching down so far, her youth became more prevalent. Despite the ornamentations and delicately designed cosmetics that were applied to her lips, cheeks, and eyelids, Zoser simply saw a young girl who had only just mastered the writing of her own name - something that, in her position, she would never need to do as she would have a Palace full of scribes at her will. Still, it was a milestone in her growth....and a marker for how long she had to go before her true regality would weigh upon her. Until then, he knew the Queen Dowager Isethperu would do all in her power to lay a strong foundation for their new queen.
"Now, now," Zoser offered, his voice comforting as he set a wide hand upon her shoulder and used the other to tilt her chin up slightly to look at him, almost whispering to keep the eavesdropping servants from overhearing, "Don't cry, little songbird..." There was no secret that the now-Queen had a love for all music, and often found herself humming or singing to herself when she should focus on her lessons. A spark of an idea at the recollection urged him forward.
"Your mother is not the daughter of the Pharaoh, but you are," he offered, his voice and expression soft and encouraging as he offered her a gentle smile, "The gods chose you to be Queen and remember - the gods are never wrong." Leaning in as if to whisper her a little secret, he whispered as if to make her laugh as he said, "They know even more than me."
He laughed, hoping she would follow as well. More times than he could count, the former Princess had accused him of knowing everything, and unable to tame his own humor or to ever invite a doubt in her mind, Zoser never disagreed.
"Besides, do you know the best part about being Queen?" His voice was more chipper and excited, trying to redirect her thoughts and emotions away from her nervousness, "As Queen...if you want to go chase peacocks in the gardens? You can. You're the Queen! They are your gardens and your peacocks now."[/b]
It was not entirely true, but if it took away just a fragment of fear before this big day and lifted her spirits, he would allow it. Though, to be cautious in case the Queen Dowager or another member of importance entered, he added quickly, "But, we must always do our work first, right? Just like in lessons. We do our tasks first, then we can play."
Hatshepsut clung to her Zosie, wishing that she never had to let him go. She knew she was safe with him and that he would never do anything to hurt her ever. He loved her, in a different way than her mother loved her, but it was love all the same. Even at the tender age of six, she was a perceptive little thing. She loved him too and she had no idea what she would ever do without him. He taught her things but he listened to her too. He also didn't only tell her what she wanted to hear. Long ago, when she was five, she had told her personal slaves that the grass was blue and the sky was green. And they had said, “Yes, Princess,” as if they really believed it. Maybe they did because she said it was so. She had thought that was funny, but had never done it again because the gods would be mad at her for making people think things that weren't true.
She wasn't ready when Zosie pulled away and dropped to one knee before her again and her painted lips turned down into a cute little pout. Hatshepsut was glad that she wasn't as bright as Ra or he would go blind and then she would not only have a new tutor but she would have to lead him around everywhere, which she wouldn't mind, but not being able to see would make him sad. She would take care of him just as he took care of her. And maybe he would still be able to teach her, just not how to write and read, which she was already learning anyway.
The child Queen looked up into his eyes, trust and a bit of panic in her own. She wanted to forget what was about to happen and she wished it was over already and they were enjoying the reception that would come after the ceremony. Hopefully, Zosie would stay with her then, too, unless her mother took her away. Mommy taught her things too, just not the same things that Zosie taught her. She knew this time she wouldn't be able to hide away in a corner; her people would want to congratulate her and maybe they would admire her too.
She smiled when he called her a songbird. He knew of her love of music and encouraged her to play and sing, though sometimes she thought he got annoyed when hummed to herself when she was bored with her lessons. But he never said anything about it, and once she realized she was doing it, she stopped. Her mother reprimanded her when she hummed in her presence. A Queen had to concentrate on everything that was said to her or people would not believe she wasn't taking them seriously. And how could she respond back to them if she didn't listen to what they said?
Zosie repeated the same thing that she had heard all her life: that the gods had chosen her to be Queen and that was why she had been born the child of the Pharaoh. It was her fate, her destiny, and not to be grateful would make the gods angry. Some people said that she was a goddess come to earth, but Hatshepsut didn't feel like one. She didn't have the head of an animal like Sekhmet and she didn't have wings like Isis. Sometimes she wondered if they would give her wings if she prayed for them. It would be fun to soar through the sky and be free.
She giggled when her tutor leaned forward and whispered that the gods knew more than he did. How could that be when Zosie knew everything? “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don't think anyone knows more than you. Maybe they gave you all their knowledge so you could teach me what I need to know about being a Queen.” If he had hoped to lessen her nervousness, he was doing quite well, and she fully expected that he would tell her another secret when he asked her if she knew what the best part of being Queen was.
However, her face fell when he told her that she could do anything she wanted because everything belonged to her. “I don't think I can play anymore. Mommy says that Queens don't chase peacocks and that they don't run through the gardens without any clothes on either.” Again, she pulled at the neckline of her golden kalisaris. “She says that when I become a Queen, I will no longer be a child anymore. Is that true, Zosie? When the priest sets the crown on my head, will I get taller? And will my teeth grow back like magic? The gods might not want me to be their Queen if I don't have all my teeth.”
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Hatshepsut clung to her Zosie, wishing that she never had to let him go. She knew she was safe with him and that he would never do anything to hurt her ever. He loved her, in a different way than her mother loved her, but it was love all the same. Even at the tender age of six, she was a perceptive little thing. She loved him too and she had no idea what she would ever do without him. He taught her things but he listened to her too. He also didn't only tell her what she wanted to hear. Long ago, when she was five, she had told her personal slaves that the grass was blue and the sky was green. And they had said, “Yes, Princess,” as if they really believed it. Maybe they did because she said it was so. She had thought that was funny, but had never done it again because the gods would be mad at her for making people think things that weren't true.
She wasn't ready when Zosie pulled away and dropped to one knee before her again and her painted lips turned down into a cute little pout. Hatshepsut was glad that she wasn't as bright as Ra or he would go blind and then she would not only have a new tutor but she would have to lead him around everywhere, which she wouldn't mind, but not being able to see would make him sad. She would take care of him just as he took care of her. And maybe he would still be able to teach her, just not how to write and read, which she was already learning anyway.
The child Queen looked up into his eyes, trust and a bit of panic in her own. She wanted to forget what was about to happen and she wished it was over already and they were enjoying the reception that would come after the ceremony. Hopefully, Zosie would stay with her then, too, unless her mother took her away. Mommy taught her things too, just not the same things that Zosie taught her. She knew this time she wouldn't be able to hide away in a corner; her people would want to congratulate her and maybe they would admire her too.
She smiled when he called her a songbird. He knew of her love of music and encouraged her to play and sing, though sometimes she thought he got annoyed when hummed to herself when she was bored with her lessons. But he never said anything about it, and once she realized she was doing it, she stopped. Her mother reprimanded her when she hummed in her presence. A Queen had to concentrate on everything that was said to her or people would not believe she wasn't taking them seriously. And how could she respond back to them if she didn't listen to what they said?
Zosie repeated the same thing that she had heard all her life: that the gods had chosen her to be Queen and that was why she had been born the child of the Pharaoh. It was her fate, her destiny, and not to be grateful would make the gods angry. Some people said that she was a goddess come to earth, but Hatshepsut didn't feel like one. She didn't have the head of an animal like Sekhmet and she didn't have wings like Isis. Sometimes she wondered if they would give her wings if she prayed for them. It would be fun to soar through the sky and be free.
She giggled when her tutor leaned forward and whispered that the gods knew more than he did. How could that be when Zosie knew everything? “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don't think anyone knows more than you. Maybe they gave you all their knowledge so you could teach me what I need to know about being a Queen.” If he had hoped to lessen her nervousness, he was doing quite well, and she fully expected that he would tell her another secret when he asked her if she knew what the best part of being Queen was.
However, her face fell when he told her that she could do anything she wanted because everything belonged to her. “I don't think I can play anymore. Mommy says that Queens don't chase peacocks and that they don't run through the gardens without any clothes on either.” Again, she pulled at the neckline of her golden kalisaris. “She says that when I become a Queen, I will no longer be a child anymore. Is that true, Zosie? When the priest sets the crown on my head, will I get taller? And will my teeth grow back like magic? The gods might not want me to be their Queen if I don't have all my teeth.”
Hatshepsut clung to her Zosie, wishing that she never had to let him go. She knew she was safe with him and that he would never do anything to hurt her ever. He loved her, in a different way than her mother loved her, but it was love all the same. Even at the tender age of six, she was a perceptive little thing. She loved him too and she had no idea what she would ever do without him. He taught her things but he listened to her too. He also didn't only tell her what she wanted to hear. Long ago, when she was five, she had told her personal slaves that the grass was blue and the sky was green. And they had said, “Yes, Princess,” as if they really believed it. Maybe they did because she said it was so. She had thought that was funny, but had never done it again because the gods would be mad at her for making people think things that weren't true.
She wasn't ready when Zosie pulled away and dropped to one knee before her again and her painted lips turned down into a cute little pout. Hatshepsut was glad that she wasn't as bright as Ra or he would go blind and then she would not only have a new tutor but she would have to lead him around everywhere, which she wouldn't mind, but not being able to see would make him sad. She would take care of him just as he took care of her. And maybe he would still be able to teach her, just not how to write and read, which she was already learning anyway.
The child Queen looked up into his eyes, trust and a bit of panic in her own. She wanted to forget what was about to happen and she wished it was over already and they were enjoying the reception that would come after the ceremony. Hopefully, Zosie would stay with her then, too, unless her mother took her away. Mommy taught her things too, just not the same things that Zosie taught her. She knew this time she wouldn't be able to hide away in a corner; her people would want to congratulate her and maybe they would admire her too.
She smiled when he called her a songbird. He knew of her love of music and encouraged her to play and sing, though sometimes she thought he got annoyed when hummed to herself when she was bored with her lessons. But he never said anything about it, and once she realized she was doing it, she stopped. Her mother reprimanded her when she hummed in her presence. A Queen had to concentrate on everything that was said to her or people would not believe she wasn't taking them seriously. And how could she respond back to them if she didn't listen to what they said?
Zosie repeated the same thing that she had heard all her life: that the gods had chosen her to be Queen and that was why she had been born the child of the Pharaoh. It was her fate, her destiny, and not to be grateful would make the gods angry. Some people said that she was a goddess come to earth, but Hatshepsut didn't feel like one. She didn't have the head of an animal like Sekhmet and she didn't have wings like Isis. Sometimes she wondered if they would give her wings if she prayed for them. It would be fun to soar through the sky and be free.
She giggled when her tutor leaned forward and whispered that the gods knew more than he did. How could that be when Zosie knew everything? “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don't think anyone knows more than you. Maybe they gave you all their knowledge so you could teach me what I need to know about being a Queen.” If he had hoped to lessen her nervousness, he was doing quite well, and she fully expected that he would tell her another secret when he asked her if she knew what the best part of being Queen was.
However, her face fell when he told her that she could do anything she wanted because everything belonged to her. “I don't think I can play anymore. Mommy says that Queens don't chase peacocks and that they don't run through the gardens without any clothes on either.” Again, she pulled at the neckline of her golden kalisaris. “She says that when I become a Queen, I will no longer be a child anymore. Is that true, Zosie? When the priest sets the crown on my head, will I get taller? And will my teeth grow back like magic? The gods might not want me to be their Queen if I don't have all my teeth.”
Neithotep stood at her mother’s back and did her best not to fidget, but it was a battle she was quickly losing. Iaheru had dressed her nearly like a Queen herself in honor of Hatshepsut’s coronation, and to say the young noblewoman was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. The gold cloth of her kalasiris was stiff against her skin; neck, ears, wrists, and ankles bedecked with diamonds and lapis lazuli that glinted with every move she made. Thick lines of kohl outlined her eyes while carmine darkened her lips, turning an already beautiful youthful face into that of a woman. The moment she’d entered the room, more than a few heads had turned her way, appreciative eyes travelling down a nubile form while she tried to pretend that she didn’t notice. Truthfully, the attention was the only thing about this event that she enjoyed, having argued at length with her parents that she shouldn’t have to attend at all.
Obviously, it was not an argument she won.
She hated Court. She hated the garish nature of the nobility, the pomp and circumstance that surrounded events like these and soured what otherwise could have been a lovely day. Though she kept such thoughts to herself, Nia thought it was ludicrous that a girl as young as Hatshepsut should be crowned queen of all Egypt, but who was she to question the will of the gods?
Looking down at her younger brother who fidgeted next to her even more clearly than she did, Nia suppressed a grin. Offering Akhenaten’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, she made a subtle gesture for him to hold still before their mother saw. They were expected to be on their best behavior on this day of all days, and Nia specifically had been charged with keeping an eye on the youngest of the Sheifa children. The reckless teenager thought it odd that such responsibility should be placed in her slippery fingers, but it was true that she was the only one Hena ever listened to, anyway.
“Straighten up and try to look happy,” Nia murmured out of the corner of her mouth with a quick wink. She knew it was quite a feat to ask of a boy of ten, but she also knew they’d never hear the end of it when they got back home if either one of them drew any negative attention to their Hei. Following her own advice, she squared her shoulders and pasted a smile on her face, nudging Akhenaten to do the same.
Now they played the waiting game. How long was this going to last? How long did she have to stand here? And could she leave as soon as the crown touched the princess’s head?
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Neithotep stood at her mother’s back and did her best not to fidget, but it was a battle she was quickly losing. Iaheru had dressed her nearly like a Queen herself in honor of Hatshepsut’s coronation, and to say the young noblewoman was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. The gold cloth of her kalasiris was stiff against her skin; neck, ears, wrists, and ankles bedecked with diamonds and lapis lazuli that glinted with every move she made. Thick lines of kohl outlined her eyes while carmine darkened her lips, turning an already beautiful youthful face into that of a woman. The moment she’d entered the room, more than a few heads had turned her way, appreciative eyes travelling down a nubile form while she tried to pretend that she didn’t notice. Truthfully, the attention was the only thing about this event that she enjoyed, having argued at length with her parents that she shouldn’t have to attend at all.
Obviously, it was not an argument she won.
She hated Court. She hated the garish nature of the nobility, the pomp and circumstance that surrounded events like these and soured what otherwise could have been a lovely day. Though she kept such thoughts to herself, Nia thought it was ludicrous that a girl as young as Hatshepsut should be crowned queen of all Egypt, but who was she to question the will of the gods?
Looking down at her younger brother who fidgeted next to her even more clearly than she did, Nia suppressed a grin. Offering Akhenaten’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, she made a subtle gesture for him to hold still before their mother saw. They were expected to be on their best behavior on this day of all days, and Nia specifically had been charged with keeping an eye on the youngest of the Sheifa children. The reckless teenager thought it odd that such responsibility should be placed in her slippery fingers, but it was true that she was the only one Hena ever listened to, anyway.
“Straighten up and try to look happy,” Nia murmured out of the corner of her mouth with a quick wink. She knew it was quite a feat to ask of a boy of ten, but she also knew they’d never hear the end of it when they got back home if either one of them drew any negative attention to their Hei. Following her own advice, she squared her shoulders and pasted a smile on her face, nudging Akhenaten to do the same.
Now they played the waiting game. How long was this going to last? How long did she have to stand here? And could she leave as soon as the crown touched the princess’s head?
Neithotep stood at her mother’s back and did her best not to fidget, but it was a battle she was quickly losing. Iaheru had dressed her nearly like a Queen herself in honor of Hatshepsut’s coronation, and to say the young noblewoman was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. The gold cloth of her kalasiris was stiff against her skin; neck, ears, wrists, and ankles bedecked with diamonds and lapis lazuli that glinted with every move she made. Thick lines of kohl outlined her eyes while carmine darkened her lips, turning an already beautiful youthful face into that of a woman. The moment she’d entered the room, more than a few heads had turned her way, appreciative eyes travelling down a nubile form while she tried to pretend that she didn’t notice. Truthfully, the attention was the only thing about this event that she enjoyed, having argued at length with her parents that she shouldn’t have to attend at all.
Obviously, it was not an argument she won.
She hated Court. She hated the garish nature of the nobility, the pomp and circumstance that surrounded events like these and soured what otherwise could have been a lovely day. Though she kept such thoughts to herself, Nia thought it was ludicrous that a girl as young as Hatshepsut should be crowned queen of all Egypt, but who was she to question the will of the gods?
Looking down at her younger brother who fidgeted next to her even more clearly than she did, Nia suppressed a grin. Offering Akhenaten’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, she made a subtle gesture for him to hold still before their mother saw. They were expected to be on their best behavior on this day of all days, and Nia specifically had been charged with keeping an eye on the youngest of the Sheifa children. The reckless teenager thought it odd that such responsibility should be placed in her slippery fingers, but it was true that she was the only one Hena ever listened to, anyway.
“Straighten up and try to look happy,” Nia murmured out of the corner of her mouth with a quick wink. She knew it was quite a feat to ask of a boy of ten, but she also knew they’d never hear the end of it when they got back home if either one of them drew any negative attention to their Hei. Following her own advice, she squared her shoulders and pasted a smile on her face, nudging Akhenaten to do the same.
Now they played the waiting game. How long was this going to last? How long did she have to stand here? And could she leave as soon as the crown touched the princess’s head?
Hena was dressed much like his sister, not to his own design, in fact Nia had suggested it. Though his sister did not enjoy dressing up, the young Akhenaten didn’t care one way or another. Mostly he just didn’t want to be there. But of course because his mom and siblings were there, he had to go as well. He had been very vocal in his protest of being dragged along. After all, he wasn’t important, he wasn’t heir and he wasn’t a beautiful woman to be married off like Nia. He just wanted to go and run around with his friends.
One of which he spotted only a few feet away, also dragged there by his mother. Hena gave him a small wave and a smile, his friend returning the gesture before the other boy pulled a funny face and Hena had to look away and cover his mouth with one hand to stifle a giggle at the other’s antics.
He hated court stuff, it was boring and drab and everyone was the same. Boring and drab. And most of them were so old...
He felt his sisters hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. Nia, his best friend in the whole world though she was a few years older than him, and his sister. He often followed her around like a lost dog, or at least that’s what he’d been told he seemed like when he trailed after her. He couldn’t help it, she was his hero and his friend and he wasn’t ashamed that he would rather spend time with her instead of his friends any day.
Just not at court.
He caught the look she gave him, and in that moment she looked so much like their mother, telling him to stop running around or stop fidgeting, or stop talking. This time it was due to his stifled giggle and restless shuffling. He did his best to let the grin fall off his face and stand as still as he could, but it wasn’t long until the restlessness came back and he was fidgeting a little again. He couldn’t help it, how could a ten year old boy be expected to stand still?
He let out a frustrated little sigh through his nose, leaning over to try and peer around his mother and brother who stood in front of them, blocking his view of what was going on anyways. He felt extra frustrated that he couldn’t really see. He wasn’t needed here to start with, and it just made it worse that he was basically just staring at his brother’s back the whole time.
His precious older brother, his mother’s favourite, the heir to the family, the boy who could do no wrong. To say that Hena held a little bit of resentment towards the only other male child in the family would be truthful. He shifted on his feet again, tugging at the intricate hairstyle that the slaves had been commanded to put his long hair in by his mother. How he longed to pull all the knots and ties apart and run around the room with his friend.
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Hena was dressed much like his sister, not to his own design, in fact Nia had suggested it. Though his sister did not enjoy dressing up, the young Akhenaten didn’t care one way or another. Mostly he just didn’t want to be there. But of course because his mom and siblings were there, he had to go as well. He had been very vocal in his protest of being dragged along. After all, he wasn’t important, he wasn’t heir and he wasn’t a beautiful woman to be married off like Nia. He just wanted to go and run around with his friends.
One of which he spotted only a few feet away, also dragged there by his mother. Hena gave him a small wave and a smile, his friend returning the gesture before the other boy pulled a funny face and Hena had to look away and cover his mouth with one hand to stifle a giggle at the other’s antics.
He hated court stuff, it was boring and drab and everyone was the same. Boring and drab. And most of them were so old...
He felt his sisters hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. Nia, his best friend in the whole world though she was a few years older than him, and his sister. He often followed her around like a lost dog, or at least that’s what he’d been told he seemed like when he trailed after her. He couldn’t help it, she was his hero and his friend and he wasn’t ashamed that he would rather spend time with her instead of his friends any day.
Just not at court.
He caught the look she gave him, and in that moment she looked so much like their mother, telling him to stop running around or stop fidgeting, or stop talking. This time it was due to his stifled giggle and restless shuffling. He did his best to let the grin fall off his face and stand as still as he could, but it wasn’t long until the restlessness came back and he was fidgeting a little again. He couldn’t help it, how could a ten year old boy be expected to stand still?
He let out a frustrated little sigh through his nose, leaning over to try and peer around his mother and brother who stood in front of them, blocking his view of what was going on anyways. He felt extra frustrated that he couldn’t really see. He wasn’t needed here to start with, and it just made it worse that he was basically just staring at his brother’s back the whole time.
His precious older brother, his mother’s favourite, the heir to the family, the boy who could do no wrong. To say that Hena held a little bit of resentment towards the only other male child in the family would be truthful. He shifted on his feet again, tugging at the intricate hairstyle that the slaves had been commanded to put his long hair in by his mother. How he longed to pull all the knots and ties apart and run around the room with his friend.
Hena was dressed much like his sister, not to his own design, in fact Nia had suggested it. Though his sister did not enjoy dressing up, the young Akhenaten didn’t care one way or another. Mostly he just didn’t want to be there. But of course because his mom and siblings were there, he had to go as well. He had been very vocal in his protest of being dragged along. After all, he wasn’t important, he wasn’t heir and he wasn’t a beautiful woman to be married off like Nia. He just wanted to go and run around with his friends.
One of which he spotted only a few feet away, also dragged there by his mother. Hena gave him a small wave and a smile, his friend returning the gesture before the other boy pulled a funny face and Hena had to look away and cover his mouth with one hand to stifle a giggle at the other’s antics.
He hated court stuff, it was boring and drab and everyone was the same. Boring and drab. And most of them were so old...
He felt his sisters hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. Nia, his best friend in the whole world though she was a few years older than him, and his sister. He often followed her around like a lost dog, or at least that’s what he’d been told he seemed like when he trailed after her. He couldn’t help it, she was his hero and his friend and he wasn’t ashamed that he would rather spend time with her instead of his friends any day.
Just not at court.
He caught the look she gave him, and in that moment she looked so much like their mother, telling him to stop running around or stop fidgeting, or stop talking. This time it was due to his stifled giggle and restless shuffling. He did his best to let the grin fall off his face and stand as still as he could, but it wasn’t long until the restlessness came back and he was fidgeting a little again. He couldn’t help it, how could a ten year old boy be expected to stand still?
He let out a frustrated little sigh through his nose, leaning over to try and peer around his mother and brother who stood in front of them, blocking his view of what was going on anyways. He felt extra frustrated that he couldn’t really see. He wasn’t needed here to start with, and it just made it worse that he was basically just staring at his brother’s back the whole time.
His precious older brother, his mother’s favourite, the heir to the family, the boy who could do no wrong. To say that Hena held a little bit of resentment towards the only other male child in the family would be truthful. He shifted on his feet again, tugging at the intricate hairstyle that the slaves had been commanded to put his long hair in by his mother. How he longed to pull all the knots and ties apart and run around the room with his friend.
Curveball The Child-Like Empress
The Master of Ceremonies hurries forwards, his robes a billowing shimmer of white and gold with an ornate headdress that depicts him in his role as organiser for such a significant event. His face looks harried, as if he is ten years older than his age would dictate. Despite his deep tan, his cheeks are ruddy with panicked colour. Noticing the scholar of the young Queen in attendance with her, the Master of Ceremonies comes to an inelegant stop and comes to his knees, his head lowering near to the ground.
"Your Evening Radiance... I beg a thousand apologies from you on so prestigious a day. But I fear that the High Priest of Ra cannot be found. I have looked everywhere but His Grace is missing. The ceremony is to begin momentarily - what will you have me do?"
For whilst all were aware that Queen Hatshepsut was but a child in age, she was still Queen and therefore blessed, surely, with the greatest of all wisdoms by the Gods themselves...
JD
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The Master of Ceremonies hurries forwards, his robes a billowing shimmer of white and gold with an ornate headdress that depicts him in his role as organiser for such a significant event. His face looks harried, as if he is ten years older than his age would dictate. Despite his deep tan, his cheeks are ruddy with panicked colour. Noticing the scholar of the young Queen in attendance with her, the Master of Ceremonies comes to an inelegant stop and comes to his knees, his head lowering near to the ground.
"Your Evening Radiance... I beg a thousand apologies from you on so prestigious a day. But I fear that the High Priest of Ra cannot be found. I have looked everywhere but His Grace is missing. The ceremony is to begin momentarily - what will you have me do?"
For whilst all were aware that Queen Hatshepsut was but a child in age, she was still Queen and therefore blessed, surely, with the greatest of all wisdoms by the Gods themselves...
Curveball The Child-Like Empress
The Master of Ceremonies hurries forwards, his robes a billowing shimmer of white and gold with an ornate headdress that depicts him in his role as organiser for such a significant event. His face looks harried, as if he is ten years older than his age would dictate. Despite his deep tan, his cheeks are ruddy with panicked colour. Noticing the scholar of the young Queen in attendance with her, the Master of Ceremonies comes to an inelegant stop and comes to his knees, his head lowering near to the ground.
"Your Evening Radiance... I beg a thousand apologies from you on so prestigious a day. But I fear that the High Priest of Ra cannot be found. I have looked everywhere but His Grace is missing. The ceremony is to begin momentarily - what will you have me do?"
For whilst all were aware that Queen Hatshepsut was but a child in age, she was still Queen and therefore blessed, surely, with the greatest of all wisdoms by the Gods themselves...
Every time Zoser looked at the young girl, his heart felt like it could burst. Daily, he marveled that the gods chose to place him in such an important position, despite his origins and his still-recent arrival from Greece. For many months after he was taken from his life in Athenia, he questioned and railed against the gods for putting him through this - for upending the path he planned for himself and ripping him far from everything he had worked his entire life towards with University.
He was to be a leading scholar, then if the fates were kind, a professor. Someday, perhaps he could have risen high to the ranks of the administration of the University, earning it all through merit. By force, he told his father and his officers all he knew of Greece, betraying everything he had loved for nearly two decades. Hate filled him for a long time...
Until Hatshepsut's bright mind and spirit managed to pluck it away.
"I would be wonderful to think so, no?" he replied with a chuckle, humbled by the way the child seemed to idolize him, almost as much as she seemed to feel about her. If his fate was to help her rise like the sun across the sky, he would be there, whether the gods had actually blessed him with the knowledge to do so or not.
Sensing the downturn in her tone as she spoke of not being able to play anymore, Zoser made an almost childish pout in response and shook his head, "Now, now. Do not fret over those things. If the gods did not want you to be Queen, they would not have brought us to this day, right?"
No sooner had he spoken, trying to use his words as encouragement, did the Master of Ceremonies flutter into the room in a cloud of robes and gold. Zosers brows furrowed as he stood, a hand still resting on the young royal's shoulder as the man took to his knees, delivering his news.
Zoser gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and stepped forward placing that same hand on the man's shoulder and shifting him slightly away from the young queen, giving her a reassuring glance before turning away and speaking quickly in hushed tones.
"No where to be found? How is it that this was only just discovered?" Zoser noted, urgency in his voice. He was not of any particular rank to be asking these questions, but he was the one who could speak to the young Queen to offer her comfort if needed. "Are there no other priests of Ra present? Or...of the other gods?"
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Every time Zoser looked at the young girl, his heart felt like it could burst. Daily, he marveled that the gods chose to place him in such an important position, despite his origins and his still-recent arrival from Greece. For many months after he was taken from his life in Athenia, he questioned and railed against the gods for putting him through this - for upending the path he planned for himself and ripping him far from everything he had worked his entire life towards with University.
He was to be a leading scholar, then if the fates were kind, a professor. Someday, perhaps he could have risen high to the ranks of the administration of the University, earning it all through merit. By force, he told his father and his officers all he knew of Greece, betraying everything he had loved for nearly two decades. Hate filled him for a long time...
Until Hatshepsut's bright mind and spirit managed to pluck it away.
"I would be wonderful to think so, no?" he replied with a chuckle, humbled by the way the child seemed to idolize him, almost as much as she seemed to feel about her. If his fate was to help her rise like the sun across the sky, he would be there, whether the gods had actually blessed him with the knowledge to do so or not.
Sensing the downturn in her tone as she spoke of not being able to play anymore, Zoser made an almost childish pout in response and shook his head, "Now, now. Do not fret over those things. If the gods did not want you to be Queen, they would not have brought us to this day, right?"
No sooner had he spoken, trying to use his words as encouragement, did the Master of Ceremonies flutter into the room in a cloud of robes and gold. Zosers brows furrowed as he stood, a hand still resting on the young royal's shoulder as the man took to his knees, delivering his news.
Zoser gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and stepped forward placing that same hand on the man's shoulder and shifting him slightly away from the young queen, giving her a reassuring glance before turning away and speaking quickly in hushed tones.
"No where to be found? How is it that this was only just discovered?" Zoser noted, urgency in his voice. He was not of any particular rank to be asking these questions, but he was the one who could speak to the young Queen to offer her comfort if needed. "Are there no other priests of Ra present? Or...of the other gods?"
Every time Zoser looked at the young girl, his heart felt like it could burst. Daily, he marveled that the gods chose to place him in such an important position, despite his origins and his still-recent arrival from Greece. For many months after he was taken from his life in Athenia, he questioned and railed against the gods for putting him through this - for upending the path he planned for himself and ripping him far from everything he had worked his entire life towards with University.
He was to be a leading scholar, then if the fates were kind, a professor. Someday, perhaps he could have risen high to the ranks of the administration of the University, earning it all through merit. By force, he told his father and his officers all he knew of Greece, betraying everything he had loved for nearly two decades. Hate filled him for a long time...
Until Hatshepsut's bright mind and spirit managed to pluck it away.
"I would be wonderful to think so, no?" he replied with a chuckle, humbled by the way the child seemed to idolize him, almost as much as she seemed to feel about her. If his fate was to help her rise like the sun across the sky, he would be there, whether the gods had actually blessed him with the knowledge to do so or not.
Sensing the downturn in her tone as she spoke of not being able to play anymore, Zoser made an almost childish pout in response and shook his head, "Now, now. Do not fret over those things. If the gods did not want you to be Queen, they would not have brought us to this day, right?"
No sooner had he spoken, trying to use his words as encouragement, did the Master of Ceremonies flutter into the room in a cloud of robes and gold. Zosers brows furrowed as he stood, a hand still resting on the young royal's shoulder as the man took to his knees, delivering his news.
Zoser gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and stepped forward placing that same hand on the man's shoulder and shifting him slightly away from the young queen, giving her a reassuring glance before turning away and speaking quickly in hushed tones.
"No where to be found? How is it that this was only just discovered?" Zoser noted, urgency in his voice. He was not of any particular rank to be asking these questions, but he was the one who could speak to the young Queen to offer her comfort if needed. "Are there no other priests of Ra present? Or...of the other gods?"
Even though this was the first coronation that Sutekh had attended, he was certain that it would not be the last. Today was the day that the whole of Egypt celebrated the ascension of their new Queen of Queens, Her Evening Radiance, the young Hatshepsut. The girl may have been barely old enough to start losing her baby teeth, but she had been chosen by the gods to be their monarch -- or at least she would be until the day she was wed and her husband would become the Supreme King of Kings; the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Little did Sutekh know that this was a title that rightfully belonged to him; the only living son of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma and older half-brother to the Queen.
As Sutekh felt his mother’s grip tighten on his arm, he subconsciously shuffled closer to her. A worried glance crossed his face as he looked at the blank expression gracing Iaheru’s nubile features. He wasn’t sure what could be causing his mother to act so strangely. Shouldn’t she be happy to witness the crowning of Her Evening Radiance? It was almost as if she was afraid of something -- judging by how tightly the woman was gripping his arm. Looking down, the boy could have sworn that her latch was so tight that he could see the indents her nails were cutting into his skin. In fact, it was starting to become a bit painful as his fingers began to tingle. If he hadn’t been so worried about what was the cause of this change in his mother, Sutekh might have pried her off from the sheer discomfort alone.
Naive to the source of her troubles, the fourteen-year-old could only think of one reason as to why his mother could seem so dazed at an event like this. “ Mother? Do you need water?” He whispered to her urgently. It was a rational explanation given the circumstances. They were all gathered underneath the hot sun and Iaheru was well-known for her decision to cover her hair; leaving it as a treasure only his father could gaze upon. He knew that his mother’s fair constitution could leave her more susceptible to Ra’s scorching rays of light. With Onuphrious, not present, it was Sutekh’s responsibility to make sure that Iaheru didn’t overheat and faint at what was easily the most important event of the year -- especially as he knew it would not reflect well on their house.
Nothing could be amiss when it came to how the Sheifas were presented. Not when they were in the presence of Her Evening Radiance, Queen Hatshepsut. Even though she was barely six-years-old, this was to be a day that the Queen of Queens would never forget. Sutekh could not let anything happen that would warrant her looking back upon this day and scowling at the memory of how the Great Hei appeared. It was his responsibility as the heir to ensure that everything went perfectly. Even though he was little more than a boy himself, Sutekh was already bearing the weight of his family’s reputation and had been doing so for years now. The sheer fact that appearances were everything had been drilled into his head by Iaheru and Onuphrious since their precious golden boy could sit up straight. Sutekh was not one to disappoint.
That was why he was just as trussed up as the rest of his siblings. The white linen cloaking his body had been fashioned into a tunic. However, the bland color was unlikely to be seen beneath the glittering gold Sutekh was practically dripping in. The heir had not protested when Iaheru had piled on necklaces, bracelets, and rings upon her oldest son. Just like his mother beside him and the siblings behind him, his adornments showed off the wealth of their house. Even he knew that this was to remind all present of the power that the Hei held and would continue to hold into the reign of the new Queen. It was important that they made an excellent impression to all there and no expense could be spared as a result.
However, there was one thing that Sutekh wished that he could have done without and it wasn’t any of the jewels decorating his body. No, instead it was something that he had worn for as long as he could remember and found it to be so uncomfortable that he would have preferred to have worn fur to this accessory. Of course, the boy was speaking of his wig. Unlike his siblings, Sutekh didn’t have the option of hiding his natural locks underneath the fake hairpiece. From the time he was a babe, his head always been shaved and it was done with such regularity that he honestly did not know what it would look like if it was left alone. Sutekh assumed that it would be like Hena’s -- darker than the night sky and straighter than his arrows -- but he didn’t know. Instead, he had grown up with the false braids that weighted with the golden beads decorating it and further catching the light as Sutekh moved his head back and forth.
He didn’t know that the young Queen was wearing a similar wig to him, further highlighting the subtle similarities in their features… features Iaheru was hoping to hide by shaving his head in the first place…
Either way, Sutekh hated his wig. He hated how the lace that held it together itched his bare scalp so badly that the skin underneath would be white from the markings that the coarse fabric left behind. Nothing he or his mother did helped. They must have tried a hundred creams to hydrate his skin and a dozen caps to provide a barrier, but it was all useless to prevent Sutekh from reaching up to scratch the rough material throughout the day.
As he waited for his mother to either sound the alarm or reassure her son about her current state of health, Sutekh couldn’t resist the urge to pick at the itchy fabric. He turned his head slightly to accomplish this and in the process noticed something that he did not wish to see. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see little Akhenaten squirming about; pulling on his hair and shifting from foot to foot. Even though he was ten and thus still a child until his twelveth birthday, his younger brother knew this behavior was unacceptable. He was to stand still no matter how uncomfortable he may be. Nothing about the Sheifas could be amiss on this day of all days.
A deep scowl formed on his face as he turned slightly to tell the boy off, “ Stand still. Do not make me tell you again.” The Heir hissed at Hena, his voice low and mimicking the authority of their father. If it had been Onuphrious taking on the responsibility of disciplining the boy, perhaps the child would have listened. However, Sutekh was not their father. To Hena, he was just the annoying, older brother who demanded things and was an utter bore in every sense of the word. Sutekh knew from the moment that the words left his mouth it would all be in one ear and out the other with him.
That was why Sutekh turned to his older sister, the girl who had been tasked with keeping an eye on Hena as she was the only sibling the troublesome terror would listen to. “ Control him.” His words were stern and it was far more than likely that Nia would take deeper offense to his chastisement than Hena would. After all, Sutekh was her little brother. She was older than him by a year and yet lower than him in the family’s pecking order on the sole account that Sutekh was the heir. Granted, it was not a place that Sutekh had more than earned -- in his humble opinion. After all, he was seemingly the only one who took the responsibilities of their families seriously and the only one who cared about the fact that they needed to be perfect on this day.
Though he wondered how long it would last as he turned around, ignoring the protests of his miffed siblings as he refocused his attention on both his mother and the stage before them. The boy found it rather odd that the ceremony had not yet started, something he was sure to quietly voiced to his mother, “ Shouldn’t they have started by now? Do you think everything is alright?”
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Even though this was the first coronation that Sutekh had attended, he was certain that it would not be the last. Today was the day that the whole of Egypt celebrated the ascension of their new Queen of Queens, Her Evening Radiance, the young Hatshepsut. The girl may have been barely old enough to start losing her baby teeth, but she had been chosen by the gods to be their monarch -- or at least she would be until the day she was wed and her husband would become the Supreme King of Kings; the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Little did Sutekh know that this was a title that rightfully belonged to him; the only living son of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma and older half-brother to the Queen.
As Sutekh felt his mother’s grip tighten on his arm, he subconsciously shuffled closer to her. A worried glance crossed his face as he looked at the blank expression gracing Iaheru’s nubile features. He wasn’t sure what could be causing his mother to act so strangely. Shouldn’t she be happy to witness the crowning of Her Evening Radiance? It was almost as if she was afraid of something -- judging by how tightly the woman was gripping his arm. Looking down, the boy could have sworn that her latch was so tight that he could see the indents her nails were cutting into his skin. In fact, it was starting to become a bit painful as his fingers began to tingle. If he hadn’t been so worried about what was the cause of this change in his mother, Sutekh might have pried her off from the sheer discomfort alone.
Naive to the source of her troubles, the fourteen-year-old could only think of one reason as to why his mother could seem so dazed at an event like this. “ Mother? Do you need water?” He whispered to her urgently. It was a rational explanation given the circumstances. They were all gathered underneath the hot sun and Iaheru was well-known for her decision to cover her hair; leaving it as a treasure only his father could gaze upon. He knew that his mother’s fair constitution could leave her more susceptible to Ra’s scorching rays of light. With Onuphrious, not present, it was Sutekh’s responsibility to make sure that Iaheru didn’t overheat and faint at what was easily the most important event of the year -- especially as he knew it would not reflect well on their house.
Nothing could be amiss when it came to how the Sheifas were presented. Not when they were in the presence of Her Evening Radiance, Queen Hatshepsut. Even though she was barely six-years-old, this was to be a day that the Queen of Queens would never forget. Sutekh could not let anything happen that would warrant her looking back upon this day and scowling at the memory of how the Great Hei appeared. It was his responsibility as the heir to ensure that everything went perfectly. Even though he was little more than a boy himself, Sutekh was already bearing the weight of his family’s reputation and had been doing so for years now. The sheer fact that appearances were everything had been drilled into his head by Iaheru and Onuphrious since their precious golden boy could sit up straight. Sutekh was not one to disappoint.
That was why he was just as trussed up as the rest of his siblings. The white linen cloaking his body had been fashioned into a tunic. However, the bland color was unlikely to be seen beneath the glittering gold Sutekh was practically dripping in. The heir had not protested when Iaheru had piled on necklaces, bracelets, and rings upon her oldest son. Just like his mother beside him and the siblings behind him, his adornments showed off the wealth of their house. Even he knew that this was to remind all present of the power that the Hei held and would continue to hold into the reign of the new Queen. It was important that they made an excellent impression to all there and no expense could be spared as a result.
However, there was one thing that Sutekh wished that he could have done without and it wasn’t any of the jewels decorating his body. No, instead it was something that he had worn for as long as he could remember and found it to be so uncomfortable that he would have preferred to have worn fur to this accessory. Of course, the boy was speaking of his wig. Unlike his siblings, Sutekh didn’t have the option of hiding his natural locks underneath the fake hairpiece. From the time he was a babe, his head always been shaved and it was done with such regularity that he honestly did not know what it would look like if it was left alone. Sutekh assumed that it would be like Hena’s -- darker than the night sky and straighter than his arrows -- but he didn’t know. Instead, he had grown up with the false braids that weighted with the golden beads decorating it and further catching the light as Sutekh moved his head back and forth.
He didn’t know that the young Queen was wearing a similar wig to him, further highlighting the subtle similarities in their features… features Iaheru was hoping to hide by shaving his head in the first place…
Either way, Sutekh hated his wig. He hated how the lace that held it together itched his bare scalp so badly that the skin underneath would be white from the markings that the coarse fabric left behind. Nothing he or his mother did helped. They must have tried a hundred creams to hydrate his skin and a dozen caps to provide a barrier, but it was all useless to prevent Sutekh from reaching up to scratch the rough material throughout the day.
As he waited for his mother to either sound the alarm or reassure her son about her current state of health, Sutekh couldn’t resist the urge to pick at the itchy fabric. He turned his head slightly to accomplish this and in the process noticed something that he did not wish to see. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see little Akhenaten squirming about; pulling on his hair and shifting from foot to foot. Even though he was ten and thus still a child until his twelveth birthday, his younger brother knew this behavior was unacceptable. He was to stand still no matter how uncomfortable he may be. Nothing about the Sheifas could be amiss on this day of all days.
A deep scowl formed on his face as he turned slightly to tell the boy off, “ Stand still. Do not make me tell you again.” The Heir hissed at Hena, his voice low and mimicking the authority of their father. If it had been Onuphrious taking on the responsibility of disciplining the boy, perhaps the child would have listened. However, Sutekh was not their father. To Hena, he was just the annoying, older brother who demanded things and was an utter bore in every sense of the word. Sutekh knew from the moment that the words left his mouth it would all be in one ear and out the other with him.
That was why Sutekh turned to his older sister, the girl who had been tasked with keeping an eye on Hena as she was the only sibling the troublesome terror would listen to. “ Control him.” His words were stern and it was far more than likely that Nia would take deeper offense to his chastisement than Hena would. After all, Sutekh was her little brother. She was older than him by a year and yet lower than him in the family’s pecking order on the sole account that Sutekh was the heir. Granted, it was not a place that Sutekh had more than earned -- in his humble opinion. After all, he was seemingly the only one who took the responsibilities of their families seriously and the only one who cared about the fact that they needed to be perfect on this day.
Though he wondered how long it would last as he turned around, ignoring the protests of his miffed siblings as he refocused his attention on both his mother and the stage before them. The boy found it rather odd that the ceremony had not yet started, something he was sure to quietly voiced to his mother, “ Shouldn’t they have started by now? Do you think everything is alright?”
Even though this was the first coronation that Sutekh had attended, he was certain that it would not be the last. Today was the day that the whole of Egypt celebrated the ascension of their new Queen of Queens, Her Evening Radiance, the young Hatshepsut. The girl may have been barely old enough to start losing her baby teeth, but she had been chosen by the gods to be their monarch -- or at least she would be until the day she was wed and her husband would become the Supreme King of Kings; the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Little did Sutekh know that this was a title that rightfully belonged to him; the only living son of Pharaoh Imopehatsuma and older half-brother to the Queen.
As Sutekh felt his mother’s grip tighten on his arm, he subconsciously shuffled closer to her. A worried glance crossed his face as he looked at the blank expression gracing Iaheru’s nubile features. He wasn’t sure what could be causing his mother to act so strangely. Shouldn’t she be happy to witness the crowning of Her Evening Radiance? It was almost as if she was afraid of something -- judging by how tightly the woman was gripping his arm. Looking down, the boy could have sworn that her latch was so tight that he could see the indents her nails were cutting into his skin. In fact, it was starting to become a bit painful as his fingers began to tingle. If he hadn’t been so worried about what was the cause of this change in his mother, Sutekh might have pried her off from the sheer discomfort alone.
Naive to the source of her troubles, the fourteen-year-old could only think of one reason as to why his mother could seem so dazed at an event like this. “ Mother? Do you need water?” He whispered to her urgently. It was a rational explanation given the circumstances. They were all gathered underneath the hot sun and Iaheru was well-known for her decision to cover her hair; leaving it as a treasure only his father could gaze upon. He knew that his mother’s fair constitution could leave her more susceptible to Ra’s scorching rays of light. With Onuphrious, not present, it was Sutekh’s responsibility to make sure that Iaheru didn’t overheat and faint at what was easily the most important event of the year -- especially as he knew it would not reflect well on their house.
Nothing could be amiss when it came to how the Sheifas were presented. Not when they were in the presence of Her Evening Radiance, Queen Hatshepsut. Even though she was barely six-years-old, this was to be a day that the Queen of Queens would never forget. Sutekh could not let anything happen that would warrant her looking back upon this day and scowling at the memory of how the Great Hei appeared. It was his responsibility as the heir to ensure that everything went perfectly. Even though he was little more than a boy himself, Sutekh was already bearing the weight of his family’s reputation and had been doing so for years now. The sheer fact that appearances were everything had been drilled into his head by Iaheru and Onuphrious since their precious golden boy could sit up straight. Sutekh was not one to disappoint.
That was why he was just as trussed up as the rest of his siblings. The white linen cloaking his body had been fashioned into a tunic. However, the bland color was unlikely to be seen beneath the glittering gold Sutekh was practically dripping in. The heir had not protested when Iaheru had piled on necklaces, bracelets, and rings upon her oldest son. Just like his mother beside him and the siblings behind him, his adornments showed off the wealth of their house. Even he knew that this was to remind all present of the power that the Hei held and would continue to hold into the reign of the new Queen. It was important that they made an excellent impression to all there and no expense could be spared as a result.
However, there was one thing that Sutekh wished that he could have done without and it wasn’t any of the jewels decorating his body. No, instead it was something that he had worn for as long as he could remember and found it to be so uncomfortable that he would have preferred to have worn fur to this accessory. Of course, the boy was speaking of his wig. Unlike his siblings, Sutekh didn’t have the option of hiding his natural locks underneath the fake hairpiece. From the time he was a babe, his head always been shaved and it was done with such regularity that he honestly did not know what it would look like if it was left alone. Sutekh assumed that it would be like Hena’s -- darker than the night sky and straighter than his arrows -- but he didn’t know. Instead, he had grown up with the false braids that weighted with the golden beads decorating it and further catching the light as Sutekh moved his head back and forth.
He didn’t know that the young Queen was wearing a similar wig to him, further highlighting the subtle similarities in their features… features Iaheru was hoping to hide by shaving his head in the first place…
Either way, Sutekh hated his wig. He hated how the lace that held it together itched his bare scalp so badly that the skin underneath would be white from the markings that the coarse fabric left behind. Nothing he or his mother did helped. They must have tried a hundred creams to hydrate his skin and a dozen caps to provide a barrier, but it was all useless to prevent Sutekh from reaching up to scratch the rough material throughout the day.
As he waited for his mother to either sound the alarm or reassure her son about her current state of health, Sutekh couldn’t resist the urge to pick at the itchy fabric. He turned his head slightly to accomplish this and in the process noticed something that he did not wish to see. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see little Akhenaten squirming about; pulling on his hair and shifting from foot to foot. Even though he was ten and thus still a child until his twelveth birthday, his younger brother knew this behavior was unacceptable. He was to stand still no matter how uncomfortable he may be. Nothing about the Sheifas could be amiss on this day of all days.
A deep scowl formed on his face as he turned slightly to tell the boy off, “ Stand still. Do not make me tell you again.” The Heir hissed at Hena, his voice low and mimicking the authority of their father. If it had been Onuphrious taking on the responsibility of disciplining the boy, perhaps the child would have listened. However, Sutekh was not their father. To Hena, he was just the annoying, older brother who demanded things and was an utter bore in every sense of the word. Sutekh knew from the moment that the words left his mouth it would all be in one ear and out the other with him.
That was why Sutekh turned to his older sister, the girl who had been tasked with keeping an eye on Hena as she was the only sibling the troublesome terror would listen to. “ Control him.” His words were stern and it was far more than likely that Nia would take deeper offense to his chastisement than Hena would. After all, Sutekh was her little brother. She was older than him by a year and yet lower than him in the family’s pecking order on the sole account that Sutekh was the heir. Granted, it was not a place that Sutekh had more than earned -- in his humble opinion. After all, he was seemingly the only one who took the responsibilities of their families seriously and the only one who cared about the fact that they needed to be perfect on this day.
Though he wondered how long it would last as he turned around, ignoring the protests of his miffed siblings as he refocused his attention on both his mother and the stage before them. The boy found it rather odd that the ceremony had not yet started, something he was sure to quietly voiced to his mother, “ Shouldn’t they have started by now? Do you think everything is alright?”
Nia felt a measure of sympathy for her brother standing next to her, a boy who so clearly would rather be doing anything else. He was barely older than the young Queen-to-be, and children could hardly have the attention span for pomp and circumstance like this. As far as she was concerned, they should be out playing and running around without a care in the world, not packed in some stuffy chamber and expected to behave like the adults they most certainly were not. How much could really be expected of a ten-year-old boy?
She knew it would be difficult to settle Hena, no matter how many times she tried, but she didn’t think he was being that bad, all things considered. Besides, he was placed behind the other Sheifa children, mostly out of sight, so what did it really matter? As long as he wasn’t running and screaming through the aisles, she doubted anyone would notice.
But, of course, someone did, her younger brother Sutekh turning to Hena and berating him in a hateful tone. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes, clenching her jaw and biting her tongue with every bit of will she could muster. Sutekh. The golden child, the heir, the boy who could do no wrong. His arrogance and self-satisfaction were already apparent at fourteen, and she couldn’t imagine that was going to get any better as the years went on.
When he turned and snapped at her, as well, that was when she nearly lost it. Just who did he think he was, to order them around like he was their parent? Not even Mother was paying any attention to them, but of course, the precious chosen one had to put his opinions where they weren’t asked for. So, what else was new?
“He’s a fucking child,” she hissed back under her breath, though she kept the fake smile plastered on her face. “He’s not bothering anyone, and neither of us have to listen to you. Leave off.”
Dark eyes sparkled with ill-concealed anger as she stared Sutekh down a moment longer, waiting for his back to be turned before childishly poking out her tongue. She didn’t despise the boy as much as she did her oldest sister Nefertaari, but there were days when she would happily pitch him out a second story window. Today was definitely one of those days.
Making doubly sure that he couldn’t see what she was doing, Nia quickly reached to give the back of his arm a nasty pinch, knowing Hei Sheifa’s perfect child wouldn’t dare to cause a scene at the Queen’s coronation. She’d undoubtedly catch trouble for it as soon as they were back home, but gods, whatever punishment her parents might cook up would be worth it just to take the smug little asshole down a notch or two.
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Nia felt a measure of sympathy for her brother standing next to her, a boy who so clearly would rather be doing anything else. He was barely older than the young Queen-to-be, and children could hardly have the attention span for pomp and circumstance like this. As far as she was concerned, they should be out playing and running around without a care in the world, not packed in some stuffy chamber and expected to behave like the adults they most certainly were not. How much could really be expected of a ten-year-old boy?
She knew it would be difficult to settle Hena, no matter how many times she tried, but she didn’t think he was being that bad, all things considered. Besides, he was placed behind the other Sheifa children, mostly out of sight, so what did it really matter? As long as he wasn’t running and screaming through the aisles, she doubted anyone would notice.
But, of course, someone did, her younger brother Sutekh turning to Hena and berating him in a hateful tone. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes, clenching her jaw and biting her tongue with every bit of will she could muster. Sutekh. The golden child, the heir, the boy who could do no wrong. His arrogance and self-satisfaction were already apparent at fourteen, and she couldn’t imagine that was going to get any better as the years went on.
When he turned and snapped at her, as well, that was when she nearly lost it. Just who did he think he was, to order them around like he was their parent? Not even Mother was paying any attention to them, but of course, the precious chosen one had to put his opinions where they weren’t asked for. So, what else was new?
“He’s a fucking child,” she hissed back under her breath, though she kept the fake smile plastered on her face. “He’s not bothering anyone, and neither of us have to listen to you. Leave off.”
Dark eyes sparkled with ill-concealed anger as she stared Sutekh down a moment longer, waiting for his back to be turned before childishly poking out her tongue. She didn’t despise the boy as much as she did her oldest sister Nefertaari, but there were days when she would happily pitch him out a second story window. Today was definitely one of those days.
Making doubly sure that he couldn’t see what she was doing, Nia quickly reached to give the back of his arm a nasty pinch, knowing Hei Sheifa’s perfect child wouldn’t dare to cause a scene at the Queen’s coronation. She’d undoubtedly catch trouble for it as soon as they were back home, but gods, whatever punishment her parents might cook up would be worth it just to take the smug little asshole down a notch or two.
Nia felt a measure of sympathy for her brother standing next to her, a boy who so clearly would rather be doing anything else. He was barely older than the young Queen-to-be, and children could hardly have the attention span for pomp and circumstance like this. As far as she was concerned, they should be out playing and running around without a care in the world, not packed in some stuffy chamber and expected to behave like the adults they most certainly were not. How much could really be expected of a ten-year-old boy?
She knew it would be difficult to settle Hena, no matter how many times she tried, but she didn’t think he was being that bad, all things considered. Besides, he was placed behind the other Sheifa children, mostly out of sight, so what did it really matter? As long as he wasn’t running and screaming through the aisles, she doubted anyone would notice.
But, of course, someone did, her younger brother Sutekh turning to Hena and berating him in a hateful tone. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes, clenching her jaw and biting her tongue with every bit of will she could muster. Sutekh. The golden child, the heir, the boy who could do no wrong. His arrogance and self-satisfaction were already apparent at fourteen, and she couldn’t imagine that was going to get any better as the years went on.
When he turned and snapped at her, as well, that was when she nearly lost it. Just who did he think he was, to order them around like he was their parent? Not even Mother was paying any attention to them, but of course, the precious chosen one had to put his opinions where they weren’t asked for. So, what else was new?
“He’s a fucking child,” she hissed back under her breath, though she kept the fake smile plastered on her face. “He’s not bothering anyone, and neither of us have to listen to you. Leave off.”
Dark eyes sparkled with ill-concealed anger as she stared Sutekh down a moment longer, waiting for his back to be turned before childishly poking out her tongue. She didn’t despise the boy as much as she did her oldest sister Nefertaari, but there were days when she would happily pitch him out a second story window. Today was definitely one of those days.
Making doubly sure that he couldn’t see what she was doing, Nia quickly reached to give the back of his arm a nasty pinch, knowing Hei Sheifa’s perfect child wouldn’t dare to cause a scene at the Queen’s coronation. She’d undoubtedly catch trouble for it as soon as they were back home, but gods, whatever punishment her parents might cook up would be worth it just to take the smug little asshole down a notch or two.
Hena scowled at his brother as the man turned around to snap at him, even as a young boy, his scowl had been perfected. Years of having a brother like Sutekh meant he was scowling quite often. His brother thought himself so perfect, the golden child, his mother’s precious heir. He was nothing but a pretentious moron, or at lest that’s what Akhenaten thought.
Part of him wanted to cause a scene, just because Sutekh had snapped at him, and he truly debated it for a moment, but before he could come to a decision or do anything, his sister was sticking her tongue out and pinching their brother. Hena quickly put his hand over his mouth to stifle his giggle at watching his sister do such a thing. When his giggling stopped and his hand dropped once more he looked at his big sister with a grin, and clear adoration in his eyes. She was always there for him, even in small moments like this, when the only other male sibling of theirs thought himself so great. Akhenaten loved watching him be knocked down a peg.
Seeing his sister act as such saw the rebellious spark in Hena lit, and with that, he turned and snuck away, away from his family and through the crowd, weaving his way easily. He didn’t care what his brother or mother would have to say about it, he’d probably get yelled at for fidgeting anyways, so he figured he might as well just do what he wanted.
He snaked his way through the crowds, a few people whispering as he did, but he paid them no mind, heading for his friend, the boy who had been making funny faces at him earlier. A quick whisper and mischievous smile was shared between the two. Hena shot his sister a look before he and his friend disappeared further into the crowd, both boys intent on making this event a little more fun for themselves. He was surprised his brother hadn’t come after him. Perhaps he would attempt to do so, but the older boy would have a much harder time weaving his way between everyone than his younger brother had, so Hena had no doubts that he could escape both his brother and mother if needed. Besides, Sutekh wouldn’t risk making a scene trying to chase his brother around the place.
The boys paused for the moment as some man came running in, yelling something about someone being missing, and they stopped to try and peer through the crowd and figure out what was going on. Perhaps they wouldn’t even need to cause any chaos themselves, it seemed the Gods were going to do so on their own.
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Hena scowled at his brother as the man turned around to snap at him, even as a young boy, his scowl had been perfected. Years of having a brother like Sutekh meant he was scowling quite often. His brother thought himself so perfect, the golden child, his mother’s precious heir. He was nothing but a pretentious moron, or at lest that’s what Akhenaten thought.
Part of him wanted to cause a scene, just because Sutekh had snapped at him, and he truly debated it for a moment, but before he could come to a decision or do anything, his sister was sticking her tongue out and pinching their brother. Hena quickly put his hand over his mouth to stifle his giggle at watching his sister do such a thing. When his giggling stopped and his hand dropped once more he looked at his big sister with a grin, and clear adoration in his eyes. She was always there for him, even in small moments like this, when the only other male sibling of theirs thought himself so great. Akhenaten loved watching him be knocked down a peg.
Seeing his sister act as such saw the rebellious spark in Hena lit, and with that, he turned and snuck away, away from his family and through the crowd, weaving his way easily. He didn’t care what his brother or mother would have to say about it, he’d probably get yelled at for fidgeting anyways, so he figured he might as well just do what he wanted.
He snaked his way through the crowds, a few people whispering as he did, but he paid them no mind, heading for his friend, the boy who had been making funny faces at him earlier. A quick whisper and mischievous smile was shared between the two. Hena shot his sister a look before he and his friend disappeared further into the crowd, both boys intent on making this event a little more fun for themselves. He was surprised his brother hadn’t come after him. Perhaps he would attempt to do so, but the older boy would have a much harder time weaving his way between everyone than his younger brother had, so Hena had no doubts that he could escape both his brother and mother if needed. Besides, Sutekh wouldn’t risk making a scene trying to chase his brother around the place.
The boys paused for the moment as some man came running in, yelling something about someone being missing, and they stopped to try and peer through the crowd and figure out what was going on. Perhaps they wouldn’t even need to cause any chaos themselves, it seemed the Gods were going to do so on their own.
Hena scowled at his brother as the man turned around to snap at him, even as a young boy, his scowl had been perfected. Years of having a brother like Sutekh meant he was scowling quite often. His brother thought himself so perfect, the golden child, his mother’s precious heir. He was nothing but a pretentious moron, or at lest that’s what Akhenaten thought.
Part of him wanted to cause a scene, just because Sutekh had snapped at him, and he truly debated it for a moment, but before he could come to a decision or do anything, his sister was sticking her tongue out and pinching their brother. Hena quickly put his hand over his mouth to stifle his giggle at watching his sister do such a thing. When his giggling stopped and his hand dropped once more he looked at his big sister with a grin, and clear adoration in his eyes. She was always there for him, even in small moments like this, when the only other male sibling of theirs thought himself so great. Akhenaten loved watching him be knocked down a peg.
Seeing his sister act as such saw the rebellious spark in Hena lit, and with that, he turned and snuck away, away from his family and through the crowd, weaving his way easily. He didn’t care what his brother or mother would have to say about it, he’d probably get yelled at for fidgeting anyways, so he figured he might as well just do what he wanted.
He snaked his way through the crowds, a few people whispering as he did, but he paid them no mind, heading for his friend, the boy who had been making funny faces at him earlier. A quick whisper and mischievous smile was shared between the two. Hena shot his sister a look before he and his friend disappeared further into the crowd, both boys intent on making this event a little more fun for themselves. He was surprised his brother hadn’t come after him. Perhaps he would attempt to do so, but the older boy would have a much harder time weaving his way between everyone than his younger brother had, so Hena had no doubts that he could escape both his brother and mother if needed. Besides, Sutekh wouldn’t risk making a scene trying to chase his brother around the place.
The boys paused for the moment as some man came running in, yelling something about someone being missing, and they stopped to try and peer through the crowd and figure out what was going on. Perhaps they wouldn’t even need to cause any chaos themselves, it seemed the Gods were going to do so on their own.
Sutekh had always been in a strange position when it came to authority. As the heir to his family, he had been taught from a young age that the whole concept was a double-edged sword. If wielded properly, it could be the most powerful tool in a Sirdar’s armory. However, if utilized incorrectly, Sutekh could make himself into a spineless fool or even an unforgiving tyrant in the eyes of his peers -- entirely depending on which side of the spectrum he found himself on. At fourteen, he could understand how respect came hand in hand with it. He had seen how his father speaking in a low tone could send his children scrambling to correct their misdeeds. He could remember the late Pharaoh’s (and his unknown father) ability to shush a large crowd with a single wave of his hand. The boy had witnessed so many people stopping to show respect to soldiers as they moved through the streets of Thebes. Sutekh was certain that he knew what authority looked like.
He just didn’t have a clue about how to properly use it.
The boy was foolish enough to assume that all it would take to bring Hena and Nia to heel, while reminding them of their duty to behave, would be a few harsh words. It was his intention to shame them into doing what was expected. If he had even a single ounce of common sense regarding this topic, Sutekh would have known that this would be useless. What he failed to understand was that he could only have authority if Sutekh first had the respect of those listening to him. The two he just scolded have never respected him and likely never would. Not as the heir of their family or as their brother. They saw him as a killjoy and a right, royal pain. Sutekh could say whatever he wanted to them and threaten them to kingdom come if he wished, but they would never listen. His siblings were just a pair of stubborn donkeys when it came to anything related to Sutekh.
That much became clear the moment Sutekh finished his tirade and Nia spat back one of her own. As his elder sister’s words settled, Sutekh turned an angry shade of crimson as the fifteen-year-old excused Hena’s behavior on account of his supposedly being a child. Hena was not a child. He was two years shy of being legally a man and as far as Sutekh was concerned, the boy was well past the age of being capable of standing still for a few hours. If the boy was five or six it would have been a different story, but he was ten.
He had no excuse.
Sutekh did not mince his words as his hissed back at his sister, not bothering to return her false smile, “ He is not a small child anymore. Stop treating him like one or your coddling will turn him into the baby doll you’re so desperate for him to be.” Even though he did not make the insult to Nia directly clear, it could be seen through his choice to call Hena Nia’s ‘baby doll.’ Sutekh was insinuating that Nia was a little girl who couldn’t seem to give up her playthings. It was harsh, but his elder sister more than deserved it -- or at least she did in Sutekh’s mind.
He blamed her for how disobedient Hena was. It was her job to watch him and make sure that he stayed in line, but she excused away his bad behavior. She undermined every attempt from Sutekh and his parents to set Hena on the right path and the effects of this were beginning to show as Hena was not listening to him at what was arguably the most important event of the decade. Sutekh was so angry at Nia’s words that he refused to accept anything other than this being her fault. She was the one coddling him, so clearly she was to blame -- nevermind the fact no one would listen to a boy hissing orders like he was the Pharaoh or something.
Though, Nia’s actions didn’t do a whole lot to counter Sutekh’s budding opinion of the girl. As the boy tried to refocus on his mother, he felt a sharp, painful pinch on his bicep. Sutekh jumped a bit out of shock before his head reared around, eyes flashing in anger. If his mother wasn’t currently holding onto the arm that the suffered the spiteful injury, Sutekh might have slapped her hand. He was angry enough to do that sort of thing -- consequences be damned. Would it kill Hena and Nia to behave at just one event? Couldn’t they just pretend to be good nobles for a few hours of their life? No, they had to treat it as some big game with their pinching and fidgeting. Sutekh had half the mind to reach over and tug his father’s shoulder to cause a big stink about the two of them right then and there. Surely he would put the fear of the gods into them and get them to behave.
However, before he could do that, Sutekh had to hiss one more insult at them -- completely oblivious to the fact that he was now stooping down to their level, “ Seems I’ve mistaken who the petulant child of this family is! Even the Queen is better behaved than you and she’s six.” Nia had no excuse and she was right, as soon as they all got home there would be hell to pay. Between this and her basically all, but admitting that she would willfully not attempt to control him; Sutekh honestly believed that he now had the grounds to keep Nia from watching Hena ever again. It would be best for Hena and the family if she didn’t, especially as she was now on par with a child in terms of her behavior.
It was only then that Sutekh noticed that the child that they were arguing over was not where he had been a moment ago. The heir did a double-take as he craned his neck trying to see if he boy just slipped out his line of sight, but no, he was gone. A deep scowl formed on his face as he searched the crowd for any sign of the boy. He just barely caught a glimpse of Hena disappearing into the edges of the crowd with another child. Clearly, the two of them were about to get up to some mischief… something that Nia could have prevented if she had been paying attention to Hena like she was supposed to!
Scowling at his sister one last time, Sutekh turned to his mother to inform her of this development, completely ignoring Nia in the process. “ Mother, Hena’s slipped away. Let me go get him.” He said gently as he carefully pried his arm out of her grip, still worried that the woman might be suffering from heat exhaustion. Once he was free to move about freely, Sutekh turned to Nia and hissed sharply, cutting off her inevitable idea before it even came to fruition. “ No. I will get him.”
With that, he quickly headed off in the direction of the boys. He was grateful for the distraction provided by the official causing a ruckus about the lack of a priest of Ra as it gave the Sheifa heir ample cover to move through a gap in the crowd behind the boys. Luckily, it seemed to have worked as the teenager was able to walk right up behind the boys and stand behind them. Before they had much of a chance to react, Sutekh latched one hand onto each of their shoulders, keeping them momentarily in place as he said with a false smile. “ Now what are you two doing away from your families at such an important event? Not causing trouble I hope?” His words were so tense that it was clear that there was no question that the boy knew that they were up to no good. Sutekh knew this to be true just based on who the friend was. He couldn’t recall the boy’s name, but he knew that things were far more chaotic when this boy came over for a visit to the saaraya. Hena clearly wanted to cause mischief, which Sutekh was not going to let happen at the coronation of all things.
“ I think we all know you boys are too old to be wandering off. So are you both go back to the others quietly, so we can forget this ever happened? Orr….” He said, trailing off at the end so the boys could fill in the blanks themselves. Sutekh didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene than what they’ve already done, but at the same time, he was not above dragging them back to their families in the interest of keeping the peace of the event.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Sutekh had always been in a strange position when it came to authority. As the heir to his family, he had been taught from a young age that the whole concept was a double-edged sword. If wielded properly, it could be the most powerful tool in a Sirdar’s armory. However, if utilized incorrectly, Sutekh could make himself into a spineless fool or even an unforgiving tyrant in the eyes of his peers -- entirely depending on which side of the spectrum he found himself on. At fourteen, he could understand how respect came hand in hand with it. He had seen how his father speaking in a low tone could send his children scrambling to correct their misdeeds. He could remember the late Pharaoh’s (and his unknown father) ability to shush a large crowd with a single wave of his hand. The boy had witnessed so many people stopping to show respect to soldiers as they moved through the streets of Thebes. Sutekh was certain that he knew what authority looked like.
He just didn’t have a clue about how to properly use it.
The boy was foolish enough to assume that all it would take to bring Hena and Nia to heel, while reminding them of their duty to behave, would be a few harsh words. It was his intention to shame them into doing what was expected. If he had even a single ounce of common sense regarding this topic, Sutekh would have known that this would be useless. What he failed to understand was that he could only have authority if Sutekh first had the respect of those listening to him. The two he just scolded have never respected him and likely never would. Not as the heir of their family or as their brother. They saw him as a killjoy and a right, royal pain. Sutekh could say whatever he wanted to them and threaten them to kingdom come if he wished, but they would never listen. His siblings were just a pair of stubborn donkeys when it came to anything related to Sutekh.
That much became clear the moment Sutekh finished his tirade and Nia spat back one of her own. As his elder sister’s words settled, Sutekh turned an angry shade of crimson as the fifteen-year-old excused Hena’s behavior on account of his supposedly being a child. Hena was not a child. He was two years shy of being legally a man and as far as Sutekh was concerned, the boy was well past the age of being capable of standing still for a few hours. If the boy was five or six it would have been a different story, but he was ten.
He had no excuse.
Sutekh did not mince his words as his hissed back at his sister, not bothering to return her false smile, “ He is not a small child anymore. Stop treating him like one or your coddling will turn him into the baby doll you’re so desperate for him to be.” Even though he did not make the insult to Nia directly clear, it could be seen through his choice to call Hena Nia’s ‘baby doll.’ Sutekh was insinuating that Nia was a little girl who couldn’t seem to give up her playthings. It was harsh, but his elder sister more than deserved it -- or at least she did in Sutekh’s mind.
He blamed her for how disobedient Hena was. It was her job to watch him and make sure that he stayed in line, but she excused away his bad behavior. She undermined every attempt from Sutekh and his parents to set Hena on the right path and the effects of this were beginning to show as Hena was not listening to him at what was arguably the most important event of the decade. Sutekh was so angry at Nia’s words that he refused to accept anything other than this being her fault. She was the one coddling him, so clearly she was to blame -- nevermind the fact no one would listen to a boy hissing orders like he was the Pharaoh or something.
Though, Nia’s actions didn’t do a whole lot to counter Sutekh’s budding opinion of the girl. As the boy tried to refocus on his mother, he felt a sharp, painful pinch on his bicep. Sutekh jumped a bit out of shock before his head reared around, eyes flashing in anger. If his mother wasn’t currently holding onto the arm that the suffered the spiteful injury, Sutekh might have slapped her hand. He was angry enough to do that sort of thing -- consequences be damned. Would it kill Hena and Nia to behave at just one event? Couldn’t they just pretend to be good nobles for a few hours of their life? No, they had to treat it as some big game with their pinching and fidgeting. Sutekh had half the mind to reach over and tug his father’s shoulder to cause a big stink about the two of them right then and there. Surely he would put the fear of the gods into them and get them to behave.
However, before he could do that, Sutekh had to hiss one more insult at them -- completely oblivious to the fact that he was now stooping down to their level, “ Seems I’ve mistaken who the petulant child of this family is! Even the Queen is better behaved than you and she’s six.” Nia had no excuse and she was right, as soon as they all got home there would be hell to pay. Between this and her basically all, but admitting that she would willfully not attempt to control him; Sutekh honestly believed that he now had the grounds to keep Nia from watching Hena ever again. It would be best for Hena and the family if she didn’t, especially as she was now on par with a child in terms of her behavior.
It was only then that Sutekh noticed that the child that they were arguing over was not where he had been a moment ago. The heir did a double-take as he craned his neck trying to see if he boy just slipped out his line of sight, but no, he was gone. A deep scowl formed on his face as he searched the crowd for any sign of the boy. He just barely caught a glimpse of Hena disappearing into the edges of the crowd with another child. Clearly, the two of them were about to get up to some mischief… something that Nia could have prevented if she had been paying attention to Hena like she was supposed to!
Scowling at his sister one last time, Sutekh turned to his mother to inform her of this development, completely ignoring Nia in the process. “ Mother, Hena’s slipped away. Let me go get him.” He said gently as he carefully pried his arm out of her grip, still worried that the woman might be suffering from heat exhaustion. Once he was free to move about freely, Sutekh turned to Nia and hissed sharply, cutting off her inevitable idea before it even came to fruition. “ No. I will get him.”
With that, he quickly headed off in the direction of the boys. He was grateful for the distraction provided by the official causing a ruckus about the lack of a priest of Ra as it gave the Sheifa heir ample cover to move through a gap in the crowd behind the boys. Luckily, it seemed to have worked as the teenager was able to walk right up behind the boys and stand behind them. Before they had much of a chance to react, Sutekh latched one hand onto each of their shoulders, keeping them momentarily in place as he said with a false smile. “ Now what are you two doing away from your families at such an important event? Not causing trouble I hope?” His words were so tense that it was clear that there was no question that the boy knew that they were up to no good. Sutekh knew this to be true just based on who the friend was. He couldn’t recall the boy’s name, but he knew that things were far more chaotic when this boy came over for a visit to the saaraya. Hena clearly wanted to cause mischief, which Sutekh was not going to let happen at the coronation of all things.
“ I think we all know you boys are too old to be wandering off. So are you both go back to the others quietly, so we can forget this ever happened? Orr….” He said, trailing off at the end so the boys could fill in the blanks themselves. Sutekh didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene than what they’ve already done, but at the same time, he was not above dragging them back to their families in the interest of keeping the peace of the event.
Sutekh had always been in a strange position when it came to authority. As the heir to his family, he had been taught from a young age that the whole concept was a double-edged sword. If wielded properly, it could be the most powerful tool in a Sirdar’s armory. However, if utilized incorrectly, Sutekh could make himself into a spineless fool or even an unforgiving tyrant in the eyes of his peers -- entirely depending on which side of the spectrum he found himself on. At fourteen, he could understand how respect came hand in hand with it. He had seen how his father speaking in a low tone could send his children scrambling to correct their misdeeds. He could remember the late Pharaoh’s (and his unknown father) ability to shush a large crowd with a single wave of his hand. The boy had witnessed so many people stopping to show respect to soldiers as they moved through the streets of Thebes. Sutekh was certain that he knew what authority looked like.
He just didn’t have a clue about how to properly use it.
The boy was foolish enough to assume that all it would take to bring Hena and Nia to heel, while reminding them of their duty to behave, would be a few harsh words. It was his intention to shame them into doing what was expected. If he had even a single ounce of common sense regarding this topic, Sutekh would have known that this would be useless. What he failed to understand was that he could only have authority if Sutekh first had the respect of those listening to him. The two he just scolded have never respected him and likely never would. Not as the heir of their family or as their brother. They saw him as a killjoy and a right, royal pain. Sutekh could say whatever he wanted to them and threaten them to kingdom come if he wished, but they would never listen. His siblings were just a pair of stubborn donkeys when it came to anything related to Sutekh.
That much became clear the moment Sutekh finished his tirade and Nia spat back one of her own. As his elder sister’s words settled, Sutekh turned an angry shade of crimson as the fifteen-year-old excused Hena’s behavior on account of his supposedly being a child. Hena was not a child. He was two years shy of being legally a man and as far as Sutekh was concerned, the boy was well past the age of being capable of standing still for a few hours. If the boy was five or six it would have been a different story, but he was ten.
He had no excuse.
Sutekh did not mince his words as his hissed back at his sister, not bothering to return her false smile, “ He is not a small child anymore. Stop treating him like one or your coddling will turn him into the baby doll you’re so desperate for him to be.” Even though he did not make the insult to Nia directly clear, it could be seen through his choice to call Hena Nia’s ‘baby doll.’ Sutekh was insinuating that Nia was a little girl who couldn’t seem to give up her playthings. It was harsh, but his elder sister more than deserved it -- or at least she did in Sutekh’s mind.
He blamed her for how disobedient Hena was. It was her job to watch him and make sure that he stayed in line, but she excused away his bad behavior. She undermined every attempt from Sutekh and his parents to set Hena on the right path and the effects of this were beginning to show as Hena was not listening to him at what was arguably the most important event of the decade. Sutekh was so angry at Nia’s words that he refused to accept anything other than this being her fault. She was the one coddling him, so clearly she was to blame -- nevermind the fact no one would listen to a boy hissing orders like he was the Pharaoh or something.
Though, Nia’s actions didn’t do a whole lot to counter Sutekh’s budding opinion of the girl. As the boy tried to refocus on his mother, he felt a sharp, painful pinch on his bicep. Sutekh jumped a bit out of shock before his head reared around, eyes flashing in anger. If his mother wasn’t currently holding onto the arm that the suffered the spiteful injury, Sutekh might have slapped her hand. He was angry enough to do that sort of thing -- consequences be damned. Would it kill Hena and Nia to behave at just one event? Couldn’t they just pretend to be good nobles for a few hours of their life? No, they had to treat it as some big game with their pinching and fidgeting. Sutekh had half the mind to reach over and tug his father’s shoulder to cause a big stink about the two of them right then and there. Surely he would put the fear of the gods into them and get them to behave.
However, before he could do that, Sutekh had to hiss one more insult at them -- completely oblivious to the fact that he was now stooping down to their level, “ Seems I’ve mistaken who the petulant child of this family is! Even the Queen is better behaved than you and she’s six.” Nia had no excuse and she was right, as soon as they all got home there would be hell to pay. Between this and her basically all, but admitting that she would willfully not attempt to control him; Sutekh honestly believed that he now had the grounds to keep Nia from watching Hena ever again. It would be best for Hena and the family if she didn’t, especially as she was now on par with a child in terms of her behavior.
It was only then that Sutekh noticed that the child that they were arguing over was not where he had been a moment ago. The heir did a double-take as he craned his neck trying to see if he boy just slipped out his line of sight, but no, he was gone. A deep scowl formed on his face as he searched the crowd for any sign of the boy. He just barely caught a glimpse of Hena disappearing into the edges of the crowd with another child. Clearly, the two of them were about to get up to some mischief… something that Nia could have prevented if she had been paying attention to Hena like she was supposed to!
Scowling at his sister one last time, Sutekh turned to his mother to inform her of this development, completely ignoring Nia in the process. “ Mother, Hena’s slipped away. Let me go get him.” He said gently as he carefully pried his arm out of her grip, still worried that the woman might be suffering from heat exhaustion. Once he was free to move about freely, Sutekh turned to Nia and hissed sharply, cutting off her inevitable idea before it even came to fruition. “ No. I will get him.”
With that, he quickly headed off in the direction of the boys. He was grateful for the distraction provided by the official causing a ruckus about the lack of a priest of Ra as it gave the Sheifa heir ample cover to move through a gap in the crowd behind the boys. Luckily, it seemed to have worked as the teenager was able to walk right up behind the boys and stand behind them. Before they had much of a chance to react, Sutekh latched one hand onto each of their shoulders, keeping them momentarily in place as he said with a false smile. “ Now what are you two doing away from your families at such an important event? Not causing trouble I hope?” His words were so tense that it was clear that there was no question that the boy knew that they were up to no good. Sutekh knew this to be true just based on who the friend was. He couldn’t recall the boy’s name, but he knew that things were far more chaotic when this boy came over for a visit to the saaraya. Hena clearly wanted to cause mischief, which Sutekh was not going to let happen at the coronation of all things.
“ I think we all know you boys are too old to be wandering off. So are you both go back to the others quietly, so we can forget this ever happened? Orr….” He said, trailing off at the end so the boys could fill in the blanks themselves. Sutekh didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene than what they’ve already done, but at the same time, he was not above dragging them back to their families in the interest of keeping the peace of the event.