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Hena had been so distracted whispering out some plans with his friend that he hadn’t even noticed his brother come up behind them until his hand was on their shoulders and he turned just enough to see who it was. Of course it was Sutekh, his big brother who seemed unable to enjoy a single thing for a moment of his life. Hena pitied the man, to not be able to find joy, he couldn’t imagine how miserable that must be.
He gave an innocent little grin when his brother asked if they were looking to cause trouble. Of course they were.
“Of course we aren’t.” Hena replied, his mind already plotting their escape route, as he was sure his friend was as well. He knew exactly where he was going to go, some where that his brother couldn’t follow him. There were benefits to still being small, he hadn’t grown into a man yet, and as such he was still small enough to slip through places his brother could not physically follow.
“Lighten up. Learn to have fun.” Hena said before he slipped from his brothers grip at the same time his friend did, both boys giggling as they slipped past people and headed for a small window that lead outside. The intent was to make it to the window before Sutekh could catch them and slip out it. His older brother would never be able to fit through, and by the time anyone was able to get around to the doors and try to get outside, the two would be long gone from this boring event.
He slipped easily past people, some of them muttering and staring after him as he bumped into them, and he could already hear the lectures he would get about the family name and representing it. Hena didn’t care, the few moments of freedom he would have would be well worth what ever punishment he would get at home. His brother’s overbearing presence was suffocating, and the boy just wanted to be away from him and away from the expectations that came from the name he bore.
Hena’s friend made it to the window first, and the boy jumped up to grab the edge of the window, pulling himself up in a hurry, trying to get up and out with enough time for Hena to follow before his brother made it back over to them and dragged him back to his family. Hena looked around, few people noticed the boys, and the ones who did didn’t seem to care beyond staring at them for a moment before going back to their own chats with friends and family. Hena didn’t know why Sutekh couldn’t just leave them alone and let them be kids.
He looked up, his friend had finally made it out the window, now it was his turn.
Hena took a couple steps back and prepared to make a bit of a running jump to grab the window ledge.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Hena had been so distracted whispering out some plans with his friend that he hadn’t even noticed his brother come up behind them until his hand was on their shoulders and he turned just enough to see who it was. Of course it was Sutekh, his big brother who seemed unable to enjoy a single thing for a moment of his life. Hena pitied the man, to not be able to find joy, he couldn’t imagine how miserable that must be.
He gave an innocent little grin when his brother asked if they were looking to cause trouble. Of course they were.
“Of course we aren’t.” Hena replied, his mind already plotting their escape route, as he was sure his friend was as well. He knew exactly where he was going to go, some where that his brother couldn’t follow him. There were benefits to still being small, he hadn’t grown into a man yet, and as such he was still small enough to slip through places his brother could not physically follow.
“Lighten up. Learn to have fun.” Hena said before he slipped from his brothers grip at the same time his friend did, both boys giggling as they slipped past people and headed for a small window that lead outside. The intent was to make it to the window before Sutekh could catch them and slip out it. His older brother would never be able to fit through, and by the time anyone was able to get around to the doors and try to get outside, the two would be long gone from this boring event.
He slipped easily past people, some of them muttering and staring after him as he bumped into them, and he could already hear the lectures he would get about the family name and representing it. Hena didn’t care, the few moments of freedom he would have would be well worth what ever punishment he would get at home. His brother’s overbearing presence was suffocating, and the boy just wanted to be away from him and away from the expectations that came from the name he bore.
Hena’s friend made it to the window first, and the boy jumped up to grab the edge of the window, pulling himself up in a hurry, trying to get up and out with enough time for Hena to follow before his brother made it back over to them and dragged him back to his family. Hena looked around, few people noticed the boys, and the ones who did didn’t seem to care beyond staring at them for a moment before going back to their own chats with friends and family. Hena didn’t know why Sutekh couldn’t just leave them alone and let them be kids.
He looked up, his friend had finally made it out the window, now it was his turn.
Hena took a couple steps back and prepared to make a bit of a running jump to grab the window ledge.
Hena had been so distracted whispering out some plans with his friend that he hadn’t even noticed his brother come up behind them until his hand was on their shoulders and he turned just enough to see who it was. Of course it was Sutekh, his big brother who seemed unable to enjoy a single thing for a moment of his life. Hena pitied the man, to not be able to find joy, he couldn’t imagine how miserable that must be.
He gave an innocent little grin when his brother asked if they were looking to cause trouble. Of course they were.
“Of course we aren’t.” Hena replied, his mind already plotting their escape route, as he was sure his friend was as well. He knew exactly where he was going to go, some where that his brother couldn’t follow him. There were benefits to still being small, he hadn’t grown into a man yet, and as such he was still small enough to slip through places his brother could not physically follow.
“Lighten up. Learn to have fun.” Hena said before he slipped from his brothers grip at the same time his friend did, both boys giggling as they slipped past people and headed for a small window that lead outside. The intent was to make it to the window before Sutekh could catch them and slip out it. His older brother would never be able to fit through, and by the time anyone was able to get around to the doors and try to get outside, the two would be long gone from this boring event.
He slipped easily past people, some of them muttering and staring after him as he bumped into them, and he could already hear the lectures he would get about the family name and representing it. Hena didn’t care, the few moments of freedom he would have would be well worth what ever punishment he would get at home. His brother’s overbearing presence was suffocating, and the boy just wanted to be away from him and away from the expectations that came from the name he bore.
Hena’s friend made it to the window first, and the boy jumped up to grab the edge of the window, pulling himself up in a hurry, trying to get up and out with enough time for Hena to follow before his brother made it back over to them and dragged him back to his family. Hena looked around, few people noticed the boys, and the ones who did didn’t seem to care beyond staring at them for a moment before going back to their own chats with friends and family. Hena didn’t know why Sutekh couldn’t just leave them alone and let them be kids.
He looked up, his friend had finally made it out the window, now it was his turn.
Hena took a couple steps back and prepared to make a bit of a running jump to grab the window ledge.
Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, Zosie’s reply told Hatshepsut that she would not suddenly become an adult when the crown was placed upon her head. Nor would her teeth come in faster than any other child her age. She had hoped that those things would happen and the next time she looked into her mirror, she would see a beautiful woman instead of a pretty little girl. The gods could do anything, after all. But they had not magically aged any of the Pharaohs who had taken the throne as children. Maybe growing up naturally was important to being a good queen. She was disappointed but the gods knew what was best for her and if they wanted her to stay a child, then there was a reason for it.
The tiny queen was a pious young girl and enjoyed worshiping in the temple. She even liked to pray. Usually, she didn’t ask the gods for anything; she just told them what she had done and learned so they would be proud of her and know that she took the honor they had given her at the moment of her birth seriously. Sometimes she got to go to Thebes and visit the temple of Hathor, the goddess she felt the closest to, but those trips were rare. It didn’t really mattered where she worshiped. All the gods could hear her no matter where she was. She liked to picture them listening to her and smiling, pleased with their choice of Queen.
Her beloved tutor’s assurance that the gods meant her to rule Egypt did much to ease her anxiety. Hatshepsut trusted Zosie more than anyone, even her mother, and everything he said was true. If she was afraid, she would dishonor the gods who had selected her to be their representative. She had to walk down that aisle with her head held high and look straight ahead instead of at the crowds that had gathered to watch this momentous occasion. Her kalsaris was still itchy, her wig was still heavy, and her makeup felt a bit sticky, but she was as ready as she would ever be.
“I know,” she said. “As long as you walk with me, then I ...”
The Master of Ceremonies hurried in and Hatshepsut watched his billowing robes sparkle as he knelt on the ground and bowed his head to the ground. She was not accustomed to such deference yet, and found it a bit strange. The Priest of Ra was missing? Where had he gone? She had spoken to him many times and he had told her that he was looking forward to crowning her. He would never hide from his duties, so what could have happened to him?
If that wasn’t scary enough, the man asked her what to do. She was Queen now and the decision was up to her. The little girl was grateful for Zosie’s hand on her shoulder and she stepped a bit closer to him, gently biting her lower lip in consternation. She had no idea what to say. How could she give a grownup advice when he knew so much more than she did? Maybe the gods would tell her what to do.
Zosie stepped away from her and spoke to the Master of Ceremonies. She could tell that he was angry, Was she supposed to be angry too? Hatshepsut heard his words and suddenly the solution popped into her head. When she spoke, her voice was clear and decisive “There is another Priest of Ra. I think that he is the head priest’s assistant. His name is … is …” She tilted her head to the side. “...Something that starts with an ‘M.’ He can perform the ceremony.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, Zosie’s reply told Hatshepsut that she would not suddenly become an adult when the crown was placed upon her head. Nor would her teeth come in faster than any other child her age. She had hoped that those things would happen and the next time she looked into her mirror, she would see a beautiful woman instead of a pretty little girl. The gods could do anything, after all. But they had not magically aged any of the Pharaohs who had taken the throne as children. Maybe growing up naturally was important to being a good queen. She was disappointed but the gods knew what was best for her and if they wanted her to stay a child, then there was a reason for it.
The tiny queen was a pious young girl and enjoyed worshiping in the temple. She even liked to pray. Usually, she didn’t ask the gods for anything; she just told them what she had done and learned so they would be proud of her and know that she took the honor they had given her at the moment of her birth seriously. Sometimes she got to go to Thebes and visit the temple of Hathor, the goddess she felt the closest to, but those trips were rare. It didn’t really mattered where she worshiped. All the gods could hear her no matter where she was. She liked to picture them listening to her and smiling, pleased with their choice of Queen.
Her beloved tutor’s assurance that the gods meant her to rule Egypt did much to ease her anxiety. Hatshepsut trusted Zosie more than anyone, even her mother, and everything he said was true. If she was afraid, she would dishonor the gods who had selected her to be their representative. She had to walk down that aisle with her head held high and look straight ahead instead of at the crowds that had gathered to watch this momentous occasion. Her kalsaris was still itchy, her wig was still heavy, and her makeup felt a bit sticky, but she was as ready as she would ever be.
“I know,” she said. “As long as you walk with me, then I ...”
The Master of Ceremonies hurried in and Hatshepsut watched his billowing robes sparkle as he knelt on the ground and bowed his head to the ground. She was not accustomed to such deference yet, and found it a bit strange. The Priest of Ra was missing? Where had he gone? She had spoken to him many times and he had told her that he was looking forward to crowning her. He would never hide from his duties, so what could have happened to him?
If that wasn’t scary enough, the man asked her what to do. She was Queen now and the decision was up to her. The little girl was grateful for Zosie’s hand on her shoulder and she stepped a bit closer to him, gently biting her lower lip in consternation. She had no idea what to say. How could she give a grownup advice when he knew so much more than she did? Maybe the gods would tell her what to do.
Zosie stepped away from her and spoke to the Master of Ceremonies. She could tell that he was angry, Was she supposed to be angry too? Hatshepsut heard his words and suddenly the solution popped into her head. When she spoke, her voice was clear and decisive “There is another Priest of Ra. I think that he is the head priest’s assistant. His name is … is …” She tilted her head to the side. “...Something that starts with an ‘M.’ He can perform the ceremony.”
Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, Zosie’s reply told Hatshepsut that she would not suddenly become an adult when the crown was placed upon her head. Nor would her teeth come in faster than any other child her age. She had hoped that those things would happen and the next time she looked into her mirror, she would see a beautiful woman instead of a pretty little girl. The gods could do anything, after all. But they had not magically aged any of the Pharaohs who had taken the throne as children. Maybe growing up naturally was important to being a good queen. She was disappointed but the gods knew what was best for her and if they wanted her to stay a child, then there was a reason for it.
The tiny queen was a pious young girl and enjoyed worshiping in the temple. She even liked to pray. Usually, she didn’t ask the gods for anything; she just told them what she had done and learned so they would be proud of her and know that she took the honor they had given her at the moment of her birth seriously. Sometimes she got to go to Thebes and visit the temple of Hathor, the goddess she felt the closest to, but those trips were rare. It didn’t really mattered where she worshiped. All the gods could hear her no matter where she was. She liked to picture them listening to her and smiling, pleased with their choice of Queen.
Her beloved tutor’s assurance that the gods meant her to rule Egypt did much to ease her anxiety. Hatshepsut trusted Zosie more than anyone, even her mother, and everything he said was true. If she was afraid, she would dishonor the gods who had selected her to be their representative. She had to walk down that aisle with her head held high and look straight ahead instead of at the crowds that had gathered to watch this momentous occasion. Her kalsaris was still itchy, her wig was still heavy, and her makeup felt a bit sticky, but she was as ready as she would ever be.
“I know,” she said. “As long as you walk with me, then I ...”
The Master of Ceremonies hurried in and Hatshepsut watched his billowing robes sparkle as he knelt on the ground and bowed his head to the ground. She was not accustomed to such deference yet, and found it a bit strange. The Priest of Ra was missing? Where had he gone? She had spoken to him many times and he had told her that he was looking forward to crowning her. He would never hide from his duties, so what could have happened to him?
If that wasn’t scary enough, the man asked her what to do. She was Queen now and the decision was up to her. The little girl was grateful for Zosie’s hand on her shoulder and she stepped a bit closer to him, gently biting her lower lip in consternation. She had no idea what to say. How could she give a grownup advice when he knew so much more than she did? Maybe the gods would tell her what to do.
Zosie stepped away from her and spoke to the Master of Ceremonies. She could tell that he was angry, Was she supposed to be angry too? Hatshepsut heard his words and suddenly the solution popped into her head. When she spoke, her voice was clear and decisive “There is another Priest of Ra. I think that he is the head priest’s assistant. His name is … is …” She tilted her head to the side. “...Something that starts with an ‘M.’ He can perform the ceremony.”
Iaheru was distracted, her train of thought evaporated with the heat and the solemnity of the event. She shook her head when her son asked her if she needed water. Though she was a noblewoman, unused to the heat, she had bore it in her past life.
Perhaps the most distressing aspect of the day, aside from watching a young girl assume a position that could have been avoided, was her children's behavior. Whatever she said or did, Neithotep and Akhenaten were deafened to their mother. Even when she tried to be kind and loving towards them, they shook her off like petulant sand between foot and sandal, discarding her for whatever pleasures they could chase. True Egyptians in the sense the manically chased fleeting indulgence.
Sutekh jarred her to presence, she turned her head to see him take off after his brother. Iaheru grinded her teeth ferociously, nostrils flared she looks to her personal guard, Set, and ordered, "You make sure these girls stay here, I have something to handle."
With her shoulders arched back, the crowd parts for her. She was no more embarrassed than she was infuriated. She could hear their quarreling as her sandals pattered through the halls all too familiar to her. If they had to be disobedient, could they at least have been quiet? She only hoped that Nenet had kept her composure, hopefully the childs servant provided what comfort she could, a task sometimes impossible for her most tender child.
She saw Sutekh and Akhenaten, the young one struggling to climb from a window. Iaheru's steps became faster. "Grab him!" Iaheru hushed, her own claws about to sink into the boy's clothing. Shoving Sutekh aside, she does exactly that, pulling at the back of silk, her rage not caring if he fell or if he twisted an ankle, just that he come down.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Iaheru was distracted, her train of thought evaporated with the heat and the solemnity of the event. She shook her head when her son asked her if she needed water. Though she was a noblewoman, unused to the heat, she had bore it in her past life.
Perhaps the most distressing aspect of the day, aside from watching a young girl assume a position that could have been avoided, was her children's behavior. Whatever she said or did, Neithotep and Akhenaten were deafened to their mother. Even when she tried to be kind and loving towards them, they shook her off like petulant sand between foot and sandal, discarding her for whatever pleasures they could chase. True Egyptians in the sense the manically chased fleeting indulgence.
Sutekh jarred her to presence, she turned her head to see him take off after his brother. Iaheru grinded her teeth ferociously, nostrils flared she looks to her personal guard, Set, and ordered, "You make sure these girls stay here, I have something to handle."
With her shoulders arched back, the crowd parts for her. She was no more embarrassed than she was infuriated. She could hear their quarreling as her sandals pattered through the halls all too familiar to her. If they had to be disobedient, could they at least have been quiet? She only hoped that Nenet had kept her composure, hopefully the childs servant provided what comfort she could, a task sometimes impossible for her most tender child.
She saw Sutekh and Akhenaten, the young one struggling to climb from a window. Iaheru's steps became faster. "Grab him!" Iaheru hushed, her own claws about to sink into the boy's clothing. Shoving Sutekh aside, she does exactly that, pulling at the back of silk, her rage not caring if he fell or if he twisted an ankle, just that he come down.
Iaheru was distracted, her train of thought evaporated with the heat and the solemnity of the event. She shook her head when her son asked her if she needed water. Though she was a noblewoman, unused to the heat, she had bore it in her past life.
Perhaps the most distressing aspect of the day, aside from watching a young girl assume a position that could have been avoided, was her children's behavior. Whatever she said or did, Neithotep and Akhenaten were deafened to their mother. Even when she tried to be kind and loving towards them, they shook her off like petulant sand between foot and sandal, discarding her for whatever pleasures they could chase. True Egyptians in the sense the manically chased fleeting indulgence.
Sutekh jarred her to presence, she turned her head to see him take off after his brother. Iaheru grinded her teeth ferociously, nostrils flared she looks to her personal guard, Set, and ordered, "You make sure these girls stay here, I have something to handle."
With her shoulders arched back, the crowd parts for her. She was no more embarrassed than she was infuriated. She could hear their quarreling as her sandals pattered through the halls all too familiar to her. If they had to be disobedient, could they at least have been quiet? She only hoped that Nenet had kept her composure, hopefully the childs servant provided what comfort she could, a task sometimes impossible for her most tender child.
She saw Sutekh and Akhenaten, the young one struggling to climb from a window. Iaheru's steps became faster. "Grab him!" Iaheru hushed, her own claws about to sink into the boy's clothing. Shoving Sutekh aside, she does exactly that, pulling at the back of silk, her rage not caring if he fell or if he twisted an ankle, just that he come down.
It was an auspicious day in history, and Onuphrious H’Sheifa was proud to be part of it.
The death of the late Pharaoh meant the coronation of a Queen, a small girl even younger than the youngest of his children. Hatshepsut was a darling child, a jewel of the Egyptian royalty, and to watch someone so young take on such a prominent position was both saddening and fascinating all at once. Of course, she’d be Queen only in name—everyone in the Court knew Isetheperu would be the true ruler until her daughter came of age and married the man who would be their next Pharaoh. But honorary title or no, it was an event for the ages, and one Onuphrious would doubtlessly remember until his last days.
Now, if only his children could show the same respect and somber awe that was appropriate at such an occasion.
Nefertaari, of course, stood at his side calmly and quietly, hands folded in front of her and properly silent, as fit her station. Flashing a grin down at his eldest child, his hand gently caressed her hair in praise. At sixteen, she was practically a woman grown, and every inch the courtier. Of all his children, she was the one that showed the most promise, and he knew she would grow to make her Hei proud.
As for the others… At least Nenet stood quietly by, but the same could not be said for his remaining children. The Sheifa patriarch released a quiet sigh at the squabbling between Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten. It was nothing more than he expected from those three—they fought worse than cats and dogs on a good day, and of course, it was too much to ask for that they behave at a coronation. Sutekh was simply trying to do what he thought was right, but even the Sirdar knew he was going a little overboard. After all, Akhenaten had only fidgeted a few times; that was normal for a child of his age. His older son only made the situation worse by pointing it out, which of course had Neithotep rushing to the younger boy’s defense. In many ways, she was like the boy’s guard dog, protecting him even when it wasn’t necessary. He could see the situation escalating right before his eyes, his jaw setting in a hard line. This needed to stop before it got out of hand.
Resting a hand on his wife’s arm before she felt the need to intervene, he fixed his glare first on Sutekh, then turned to inflict it on the other two. “Enough, all three of you,” he growled, the look on his face daring them to argue. “Have you even the slightest amount of respect for where you are right now? We are at the Queen’s coronation; your antics need to stop. Now.”
He may as well have been a mute for all the good it did, Akhenaten running off as if he hadn’t spoken a word. Before Onuphrious could follow the boy himself, Sutekh was off after him, the Sheifa heir attempting valiantly to be the savior, but only causing more of a scene in the process. “Gods, I’ll have both their hides before this is through,” he threatened in another growl, glaring back at Neithotep who still remained. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he reminded her. “This is precisely what you were supposed to prevent.”
Before he could leave his place to fetch his sons back, Iaheru was off and running to do that very thing, leaving the Sirdar back to keep an eye on his daughters. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned Neithotep before fixing Nenet with the same warning stare, as well. While he doubted his shy, stuttering daughter would try to intervene, he never knew when it came to Sutekh. Better to prevent it before it happened than deal with the aftermath.
As it was, there was already going to be plenty of aftermath to deal with. Onuphrious was not a man who often lost his temper, the Sirdar a level-headed man of trade who weighed the value of his options before acting. But this… this was unforgivable. His children were in for it when they got home, there was no doubt of that. As far as he was concerned, not one of them would be leaving the walls of the saraaya for at least a month after this was done.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was an auspicious day in history, and Onuphrious H’Sheifa was proud to be part of it.
The death of the late Pharaoh meant the coronation of a Queen, a small girl even younger than the youngest of his children. Hatshepsut was a darling child, a jewel of the Egyptian royalty, and to watch someone so young take on such a prominent position was both saddening and fascinating all at once. Of course, she’d be Queen only in name—everyone in the Court knew Isetheperu would be the true ruler until her daughter came of age and married the man who would be their next Pharaoh. But honorary title or no, it was an event for the ages, and one Onuphrious would doubtlessly remember until his last days.
Now, if only his children could show the same respect and somber awe that was appropriate at such an occasion.
Nefertaari, of course, stood at his side calmly and quietly, hands folded in front of her and properly silent, as fit her station. Flashing a grin down at his eldest child, his hand gently caressed her hair in praise. At sixteen, she was practically a woman grown, and every inch the courtier. Of all his children, she was the one that showed the most promise, and he knew she would grow to make her Hei proud.
As for the others… At least Nenet stood quietly by, but the same could not be said for his remaining children. The Sheifa patriarch released a quiet sigh at the squabbling between Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten. It was nothing more than he expected from those three—they fought worse than cats and dogs on a good day, and of course, it was too much to ask for that they behave at a coronation. Sutekh was simply trying to do what he thought was right, but even the Sirdar knew he was going a little overboard. After all, Akhenaten had only fidgeted a few times; that was normal for a child of his age. His older son only made the situation worse by pointing it out, which of course had Neithotep rushing to the younger boy’s defense. In many ways, she was like the boy’s guard dog, protecting him even when it wasn’t necessary. He could see the situation escalating right before his eyes, his jaw setting in a hard line. This needed to stop before it got out of hand.
Resting a hand on his wife’s arm before she felt the need to intervene, he fixed his glare first on Sutekh, then turned to inflict it on the other two. “Enough, all three of you,” he growled, the look on his face daring them to argue. “Have you even the slightest amount of respect for where you are right now? We are at the Queen’s coronation; your antics need to stop. Now.”
He may as well have been a mute for all the good it did, Akhenaten running off as if he hadn’t spoken a word. Before Onuphrious could follow the boy himself, Sutekh was off after him, the Sheifa heir attempting valiantly to be the savior, but only causing more of a scene in the process. “Gods, I’ll have both their hides before this is through,” he threatened in another growl, glaring back at Neithotep who still remained. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he reminded her. “This is precisely what you were supposed to prevent.”
Before he could leave his place to fetch his sons back, Iaheru was off and running to do that very thing, leaving the Sirdar back to keep an eye on his daughters. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned Neithotep before fixing Nenet with the same warning stare, as well. While he doubted his shy, stuttering daughter would try to intervene, he never knew when it came to Sutekh. Better to prevent it before it happened than deal with the aftermath.
As it was, there was already going to be plenty of aftermath to deal with. Onuphrious was not a man who often lost his temper, the Sirdar a level-headed man of trade who weighed the value of his options before acting. But this… this was unforgivable. His children were in for it when they got home, there was no doubt of that. As far as he was concerned, not one of them would be leaving the walls of the saraaya for at least a month after this was done.
It was an auspicious day in history, and Onuphrious H’Sheifa was proud to be part of it.
The death of the late Pharaoh meant the coronation of a Queen, a small girl even younger than the youngest of his children. Hatshepsut was a darling child, a jewel of the Egyptian royalty, and to watch someone so young take on such a prominent position was both saddening and fascinating all at once. Of course, she’d be Queen only in name—everyone in the Court knew Isetheperu would be the true ruler until her daughter came of age and married the man who would be their next Pharaoh. But honorary title or no, it was an event for the ages, and one Onuphrious would doubtlessly remember until his last days.
Now, if only his children could show the same respect and somber awe that was appropriate at such an occasion.
Nefertaari, of course, stood at his side calmly and quietly, hands folded in front of her and properly silent, as fit her station. Flashing a grin down at his eldest child, his hand gently caressed her hair in praise. At sixteen, she was practically a woman grown, and every inch the courtier. Of all his children, she was the one that showed the most promise, and he knew she would grow to make her Hei proud.
As for the others… At least Nenet stood quietly by, but the same could not be said for his remaining children. The Sheifa patriarch released a quiet sigh at the squabbling between Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten. It was nothing more than he expected from those three—they fought worse than cats and dogs on a good day, and of course, it was too much to ask for that they behave at a coronation. Sutekh was simply trying to do what he thought was right, but even the Sirdar knew he was going a little overboard. After all, Akhenaten had only fidgeted a few times; that was normal for a child of his age. His older son only made the situation worse by pointing it out, which of course had Neithotep rushing to the younger boy’s defense. In many ways, she was like the boy’s guard dog, protecting him even when it wasn’t necessary. He could see the situation escalating right before his eyes, his jaw setting in a hard line. This needed to stop before it got out of hand.
Resting a hand on his wife’s arm before she felt the need to intervene, he fixed his glare first on Sutekh, then turned to inflict it on the other two. “Enough, all three of you,” he growled, the look on his face daring them to argue. “Have you even the slightest amount of respect for where you are right now? We are at the Queen’s coronation; your antics need to stop. Now.”
He may as well have been a mute for all the good it did, Akhenaten running off as if he hadn’t spoken a word. Before Onuphrious could follow the boy himself, Sutekh was off after him, the Sheifa heir attempting valiantly to be the savior, but only causing more of a scene in the process. “Gods, I’ll have both their hides before this is through,” he threatened in another growl, glaring back at Neithotep who still remained. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he reminded her. “This is precisely what you were supposed to prevent.”
Before he could leave his place to fetch his sons back, Iaheru was off and running to do that very thing, leaving the Sirdar back to keep an eye on his daughters. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned Neithotep before fixing Nenet with the same warning stare, as well. While he doubted his shy, stuttering daughter would try to intervene, he never knew when it came to Sutekh. Better to prevent it before it happened than deal with the aftermath.
As it was, there was already going to be plenty of aftermath to deal with. Onuphrious was not a man who often lost his temper, the Sirdar a level-headed man of trade who weighed the value of his options before acting. But this… this was unforgivable. His children were in for it when they got home, there was no doubt of that. As far as he was concerned, not one of them would be leaving the walls of the saraaya for at least a month after this was done.
The glare that Nia gave her brother Sutekh could have cut stone.
He was so arrogant, so condescending and self-righteous that Nia could have slapped him right then and there. What right did he have to be ordering them around? Sure, he was the heir, but that didn’t mean he was in charge yet. Mother and Father were in charge, and the young woman barely even listened to them. What made Sutekh think she would listen to him?
“Us? Petulant? We’re not the ones turning around and sticking our noses where they don’t belong because a boy of ten dared to fidget. What right do you have to dictate a child’s very movements? He’s not even doing anything, you overgrown sack of camel dung!” Nia’s face was going redder by the second, half-tempted to do something worse than pinching. Her fists balled at her sides but before she could say another word, Hena was off and running, causing the mischief she’d just defended him against moments ago.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Nia made to follow after the boy. After all, Sutekh was right on one thing—she had been charged with watching her brother. But before she could anything, the older boy was stepping in himself, Nia snarling at him as he left the group. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t their keeper or their disciplinarian. He was just an overgrown boy who thought he was a man.
Meaning to go after Hena anyway, Nia stepped forward until she was stopped by her father’s remonstration. Brows drawing together in a frown, she protested, “I was watching him! He wasn’t even doing anything until your precious son felt the need to open his mouth! Now he’s gone and made it all worse!”
Falling silent at Onuphrious’s words of warning as Iaheru rushed to intercept her sons, Nia crossed her arms and stepped back, her pout as petulant as Sutekh had just accused her of being. This wasn’t fair. Why were she and Hena getting in trouble when this was clearly all Sutekh’s fault? If he hadn’t decided he needed to act all high and mighty, none of this would be happening. Hena would still be standing next to her with a little fidget now and then, and they’d be bored and waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Speaking of… when was this ceremony to begin? Where was the priest of Ra who would set the crown on Hatshepsut’s head? Their parents were so upset about their indiscretions, yet the very man meant to go forward with these supposedly super important proceedings wasn’t even here. What a shitshow this was all turning out to be.
“And you wonder why I didn’t even want to come,” she muttered to her father who wasn’t listening and her mother who was no longer present. “What was even the point?”
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The glare that Nia gave her brother Sutekh could have cut stone.
He was so arrogant, so condescending and self-righteous that Nia could have slapped him right then and there. What right did he have to be ordering them around? Sure, he was the heir, but that didn’t mean he was in charge yet. Mother and Father were in charge, and the young woman barely even listened to them. What made Sutekh think she would listen to him?
“Us? Petulant? We’re not the ones turning around and sticking our noses where they don’t belong because a boy of ten dared to fidget. What right do you have to dictate a child’s very movements? He’s not even doing anything, you overgrown sack of camel dung!” Nia’s face was going redder by the second, half-tempted to do something worse than pinching. Her fists balled at her sides but before she could say another word, Hena was off and running, causing the mischief she’d just defended him against moments ago.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Nia made to follow after the boy. After all, Sutekh was right on one thing—she had been charged with watching her brother. But before she could anything, the older boy was stepping in himself, Nia snarling at him as he left the group. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t their keeper or their disciplinarian. He was just an overgrown boy who thought he was a man.
Meaning to go after Hena anyway, Nia stepped forward until she was stopped by her father’s remonstration. Brows drawing together in a frown, she protested, “I was watching him! He wasn’t even doing anything until your precious son felt the need to open his mouth! Now he’s gone and made it all worse!”
Falling silent at Onuphrious’s words of warning as Iaheru rushed to intercept her sons, Nia crossed her arms and stepped back, her pout as petulant as Sutekh had just accused her of being. This wasn’t fair. Why were she and Hena getting in trouble when this was clearly all Sutekh’s fault? If he hadn’t decided he needed to act all high and mighty, none of this would be happening. Hena would still be standing next to her with a little fidget now and then, and they’d be bored and waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Speaking of… when was this ceremony to begin? Where was the priest of Ra who would set the crown on Hatshepsut’s head? Their parents were so upset about their indiscretions, yet the very man meant to go forward with these supposedly super important proceedings wasn’t even here. What a shitshow this was all turning out to be.
“And you wonder why I didn’t even want to come,” she muttered to her father who wasn’t listening and her mother who was no longer present. “What was even the point?”
The glare that Nia gave her brother Sutekh could have cut stone.
He was so arrogant, so condescending and self-righteous that Nia could have slapped him right then and there. What right did he have to be ordering them around? Sure, he was the heir, but that didn’t mean he was in charge yet. Mother and Father were in charge, and the young woman barely even listened to them. What made Sutekh think she would listen to him?
“Us? Petulant? We’re not the ones turning around and sticking our noses where they don’t belong because a boy of ten dared to fidget. What right do you have to dictate a child’s very movements? He’s not even doing anything, you overgrown sack of camel dung!” Nia’s face was going redder by the second, half-tempted to do something worse than pinching. Her fists balled at her sides but before she could say another word, Hena was off and running, causing the mischief she’d just defended him against moments ago.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Nia made to follow after the boy. After all, Sutekh was right on one thing—she had been charged with watching her brother. But before she could anything, the older boy was stepping in himself, Nia snarling at him as he left the group. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t their keeper or their disciplinarian. He was just an overgrown boy who thought he was a man.
Meaning to go after Hena anyway, Nia stepped forward until she was stopped by her father’s remonstration. Brows drawing together in a frown, she protested, “I was watching him! He wasn’t even doing anything until your precious son felt the need to open his mouth! Now he’s gone and made it all worse!”
Falling silent at Onuphrious’s words of warning as Iaheru rushed to intercept her sons, Nia crossed her arms and stepped back, her pout as petulant as Sutekh had just accused her of being. This wasn’t fair. Why were she and Hena getting in trouble when this was clearly all Sutekh’s fault? If he hadn’t decided he needed to act all high and mighty, none of this would be happening. Hena would still be standing next to her with a little fidget now and then, and they’d be bored and waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Speaking of… when was this ceremony to begin? Where was the priest of Ra who would set the crown on Hatshepsut’s head? Their parents were so upset about their indiscretions, yet the very man meant to go forward with these supposedly super important proceedings wasn’t even here. What a shitshow this was all turning out to be.
“And you wonder why I didn’t even want to come,” she muttered to her father who wasn’t listening and her mother who was no longer present. “What was even the point?”
Hena had thought he’d reached sweet freedom when his hands grabbed the edge of the window, but instead he was yanked back, and he intended to swing at his brother until he realized it was not him who had pulled him back. It was his mother. He gave her a sheepish little grin, attempting to seem innocent though he knew that she wouldn’t fall for such things. As far as Hena was concerned, their mother didn’t care for him. She only cared for her eldest children, he was sure of it.
“Sutekh started it.” He said, his only defence for his actions. He knew that he was going to be punished, and it wasn’t an uncommon thing for Hena. He felt like no matter what he did, he was punished for it. He had given up trying to be good and get his parents’ attention. He had started to just do what ever he wanted, consequences be damned. The start of a lot of years of problems for his parents, no matter how hard they tried to stop it from happening. Hena felt cast aside by his parents in favour of Sutekh, even if his older brother was a butthead.
“Let me go. I’ll be good.” The boy said, attempting to struggle from his mother’s grip once his feet were back on the floor. He wasn’t sure how true that statement would end up being, but in the moment he meant it. His escape had not worked, and now he was caught and his mom and likely his dad would be pissed at him. So he would do his best to attempt to stand still, unless Sutekh got mad at him for nothing again, then he was likely to just take off again or something.
He huffed and attempted to straighten his clothes out, they had become ruffled from him running away and being grabbed by his mother. He then started back over towards the rest of the family with his mother and brother in tow, looking at no one but Nia with a bit of guilt in his eyes. He realized that she would likely get in trouble too, for his actions. For some reason she always seemed to get in trouble for what he did, and he hated that.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered to his sister once he was back at her side, reaching out to take her hand and hold it. He was feeling a bit bad now that the thrill of running away was gone and he was just left with the consequences to his actions. Though he had been brave before, and determined that he didn’t care about the consequences, he wasn’t quite at the point where he didn’t care yet.
He turned his attention to the child that would be the new Queen instead, and did his best to stand still and be good, trying to earn a little forgiveness before this was all over and his punishment was decided by his father. Though he couldn’t help but fidget just a little, despite his best attempts.
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Hena had thought he’d reached sweet freedom when his hands grabbed the edge of the window, but instead he was yanked back, and he intended to swing at his brother until he realized it was not him who had pulled him back. It was his mother. He gave her a sheepish little grin, attempting to seem innocent though he knew that she wouldn’t fall for such things. As far as Hena was concerned, their mother didn’t care for him. She only cared for her eldest children, he was sure of it.
“Sutekh started it.” He said, his only defence for his actions. He knew that he was going to be punished, and it wasn’t an uncommon thing for Hena. He felt like no matter what he did, he was punished for it. He had given up trying to be good and get his parents’ attention. He had started to just do what ever he wanted, consequences be damned. The start of a lot of years of problems for his parents, no matter how hard they tried to stop it from happening. Hena felt cast aside by his parents in favour of Sutekh, even if his older brother was a butthead.
“Let me go. I’ll be good.” The boy said, attempting to struggle from his mother’s grip once his feet were back on the floor. He wasn’t sure how true that statement would end up being, but in the moment he meant it. His escape had not worked, and now he was caught and his mom and likely his dad would be pissed at him. So he would do his best to attempt to stand still, unless Sutekh got mad at him for nothing again, then he was likely to just take off again or something.
He huffed and attempted to straighten his clothes out, they had become ruffled from him running away and being grabbed by his mother. He then started back over towards the rest of the family with his mother and brother in tow, looking at no one but Nia with a bit of guilt in his eyes. He realized that she would likely get in trouble too, for his actions. For some reason she always seemed to get in trouble for what he did, and he hated that.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered to his sister once he was back at her side, reaching out to take her hand and hold it. He was feeling a bit bad now that the thrill of running away was gone and he was just left with the consequences to his actions. Though he had been brave before, and determined that he didn’t care about the consequences, he wasn’t quite at the point where he didn’t care yet.
He turned his attention to the child that would be the new Queen instead, and did his best to stand still and be good, trying to earn a little forgiveness before this was all over and his punishment was decided by his father. Though he couldn’t help but fidget just a little, despite his best attempts.
Hena had thought he’d reached sweet freedom when his hands grabbed the edge of the window, but instead he was yanked back, and he intended to swing at his brother until he realized it was not him who had pulled him back. It was his mother. He gave her a sheepish little grin, attempting to seem innocent though he knew that she wouldn’t fall for such things. As far as Hena was concerned, their mother didn’t care for him. She only cared for her eldest children, he was sure of it.
“Sutekh started it.” He said, his only defence for his actions. He knew that he was going to be punished, and it wasn’t an uncommon thing for Hena. He felt like no matter what he did, he was punished for it. He had given up trying to be good and get his parents’ attention. He had started to just do what ever he wanted, consequences be damned. The start of a lot of years of problems for his parents, no matter how hard they tried to stop it from happening. Hena felt cast aside by his parents in favour of Sutekh, even if his older brother was a butthead.
“Let me go. I’ll be good.” The boy said, attempting to struggle from his mother’s grip once his feet were back on the floor. He wasn’t sure how true that statement would end up being, but in the moment he meant it. His escape had not worked, and now he was caught and his mom and likely his dad would be pissed at him. So he would do his best to attempt to stand still, unless Sutekh got mad at him for nothing again, then he was likely to just take off again or something.
He huffed and attempted to straighten his clothes out, they had become ruffled from him running away and being grabbed by his mother. He then started back over towards the rest of the family with his mother and brother in tow, looking at no one but Nia with a bit of guilt in his eyes. He realized that she would likely get in trouble too, for his actions. For some reason she always seemed to get in trouble for what he did, and he hated that.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered to his sister once he was back at her side, reaching out to take her hand and hold it. He was feeling a bit bad now that the thrill of running away was gone and he was just left with the consequences to his actions. Though he had been brave before, and determined that he didn’t care about the consequences, he wasn’t quite at the point where he didn’t care yet.
He turned his attention to the child that would be the new Queen instead, and did his best to stand still and be good, trying to earn a little forgiveness before this was all over and his punishment was decided by his father. Though he couldn’t help but fidget just a little, despite his best attempts.
This could not be happening.
Zoser turned his face to the ceiling for a moment and closed his eyes, as if he closed them hard enough and counted to ten, he would not have heard anything that the Master of Ceremonies had just said. Instead, he would have just come in and said it was time to begin the ceremony. Everyone would smile and applaud and a new era would dawn for Egypt with the purest, golden-heart he had ever come across to wear the crown - even if she was only six.
Instead, this was a nightmare. What could have happened to the Priest of Ra? Why was he not already there like so many other attendants? Zoser himself had been quite busy arranging all of his own regailia for the event. Everyone turned out in their best and many had started hours ago. The Priest should have been waiting right by the damn door!
Zoser was not one to display a temper but he could feel one burning in his chest for a moment and he aimed a misdirected glare at the Master of Ceremonies, an organized yet obnoxiously quivering man in front of him. A commonborn servant of the crown, just like him. Yet, Zoser took this personally in a way. He had only just finished telling the young Hatshepsut that it would all be well, that the gods had blessed this day and chosen her. Was this divine irony for him even speaking? He would not be surprised.
As his mind race again, one hand rubbing across his freshly shaved jaw, agitated as if to somehow form the words to a solution. Then, clear as a bell, Hatshepsut spoke, causing both his own head and that of the Master of Ceremonies' to whip around to her. The Master of Ceremonies blinked a few times in confusion, while Zoser's face split into a new smile, beaming with pride at the clever girl.
"Mentuenheqau," Zoser said, amused at how quickly she knew the exact person but not surprised at her failing to remember his entire name. Zoser was familiar with the Sem-Priest, but his expression faltered slightly as he looked to the Master of Ceremonies, knowing what he was going to say next might be a bit controversial and might cause more than a little commotion among the people of Egypt, "He is a Priest of Ptah, though...not Ra. But, I do know he is here today...and we are short on time."
It was unprecedented for a Royal to be crowned by the clergy of a god other than Ra. Yet, he did wonder if this was a challenge from the gods...or an act of their own doing? They had their own wills and acted it upon their followers, though perhaps not as intently as the gods of Greece. Yet, if they were to be watching any mortal this day, it would be the Queen Hatshepsut.
"If you will it, it will be done, My Queen," the Master of Ceremonies replied, still taken aback by the order, but bowed and swept away from the room to find the Sem-Priest among the crowd.
Zoser crossed back to her and kneeled, his hand placing back on her shoulder and his smile beaming at her, "See? You have already begun to fulfill the will of the gods as Queen. Nothing to fear."
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This could not be happening.
Zoser turned his face to the ceiling for a moment and closed his eyes, as if he closed them hard enough and counted to ten, he would not have heard anything that the Master of Ceremonies had just said. Instead, he would have just come in and said it was time to begin the ceremony. Everyone would smile and applaud and a new era would dawn for Egypt with the purest, golden-heart he had ever come across to wear the crown - even if she was only six.
Instead, this was a nightmare. What could have happened to the Priest of Ra? Why was he not already there like so many other attendants? Zoser himself had been quite busy arranging all of his own regailia for the event. Everyone turned out in their best and many had started hours ago. The Priest should have been waiting right by the damn door!
Zoser was not one to display a temper but he could feel one burning in his chest for a moment and he aimed a misdirected glare at the Master of Ceremonies, an organized yet obnoxiously quivering man in front of him. A commonborn servant of the crown, just like him. Yet, Zoser took this personally in a way. He had only just finished telling the young Hatshepsut that it would all be well, that the gods had blessed this day and chosen her. Was this divine irony for him even speaking? He would not be surprised.
As his mind race again, one hand rubbing across his freshly shaved jaw, agitated as if to somehow form the words to a solution. Then, clear as a bell, Hatshepsut spoke, causing both his own head and that of the Master of Ceremonies' to whip around to her. The Master of Ceremonies blinked a few times in confusion, while Zoser's face split into a new smile, beaming with pride at the clever girl.
"Mentuenheqau," Zoser said, amused at how quickly she knew the exact person but not surprised at her failing to remember his entire name. Zoser was familiar with the Sem-Priest, but his expression faltered slightly as he looked to the Master of Ceremonies, knowing what he was going to say next might be a bit controversial and might cause more than a little commotion among the people of Egypt, "He is a Priest of Ptah, though...not Ra. But, I do know he is here today...and we are short on time."
It was unprecedented for a Royal to be crowned by the clergy of a god other than Ra. Yet, he did wonder if this was a challenge from the gods...or an act of their own doing? They had their own wills and acted it upon their followers, though perhaps not as intently as the gods of Greece. Yet, if they were to be watching any mortal this day, it would be the Queen Hatshepsut.
"If you will it, it will be done, My Queen," the Master of Ceremonies replied, still taken aback by the order, but bowed and swept away from the room to find the Sem-Priest among the crowd.
Zoser crossed back to her and kneeled, his hand placing back on her shoulder and his smile beaming at her, "See? You have already begun to fulfill the will of the gods as Queen. Nothing to fear."
This could not be happening.
Zoser turned his face to the ceiling for a moment and closed his eyes, as if he closed them hard enough and counted to ten, he would not have heard anything that the Master of Ceremonies had just said. Instead, he would have just come in and said it was time to begin the ceremony. Everyone would smile and applaud and a new era would dawn for Egypt with the purest, golden-heart he had ever come across to wear the crown - even if she was only six.
Instead, this was a nightmare. What could have happened to the Priest of Ra? Why was he not already there like so many other attendants? Zoser himself had been quite busy arranging all of his own regailia for the event. Everyone turned out in their best and many had started hours ago. The Priest should have been waiting right by the damn door!
Zoser was not one to display a temper but he could feel one burning in his chest for a moment and he aimed a misdirected glare at the Master of Ceremonies, an organized yet obnoxiously quivering man in front of him. A commonborn servant of the crown, just like him. Yet, Zoser took this personally in a way. He had only just finished telling the young Hatshepsut that it would all be well, that the gods had blessed this day and chosen her. Was this divine irony for him even speaking? He would not be surprised.
As his mind race again, one hand rubbing across his freshly shaved jaw, agitated as if to somehow form the words to a solution. Then, clear as a bell, Hatshepsut spoke, causing both his own head and that of the Master of Ceremonies' to whip around to her. The Master of Ceremonies blinked a few times in confusion, while Zoser's face split into a new smile, beaming with pride at the clever girl.
"Mentuenheqau," Zoser said, amused at how quickly she knew the exact person but not surprised at her failing to remember his entire name. Zoser was familiar with the Sem-Priest, but his expression faltered slightly as he looked to the Master of Ceremonies, knowing what he was going to say next might be a bit controversial and might cause more than a little commotion among the people of Egypt, "He is a Priest of Ptah, though...not Ra. But, I do know he is here today...and we are short on time."
It was unprecedented for a Royal to be crowned by the clergy of a god other than Ra. Yet, he did wonder if this was a challenge from the gods...or an act of their own doing? They had their own wills and acted it upon their followers, though perhaps not as intently as the gods of Greece. Yet, if they were to be watching any mortal this day, it would be the Queen Hatshepsut.
"If you will it, it will be done, My Queen," the Master of Ceremonies replied, still taken aback by the order, but bowed and swept away from the room to find the Sem-Priest among the crowd.
Zoser crossed back to her and kneeled, his hand placing back on her shoulder and his smile beaming at her, "See? You have already begun to fulfill the will of the gods as Queen. Nothing to fear."
For all the good that Sutekh was attempting to do by going after Hena, he was blind to the harsh truth that was only making things much worse. When the Sheifa heir separated himself from the grip of his mother, he had genuinely believed that he was sparing her trouble of needing to go after the wild child herself. His actions were done under the belief that it would cause less of a scene if the elder brother corralled the younger one. After all, the other courtiers would likely chalk up the actions of the Sheifa boys as insignificant in the grand scheme of things –especially in comparison to either of their parents or, gods forbid, the guards being sent after Hena instead. Truly, the fourteen-year-old thought that he was doing the right thing. Perhaps if he had been a part of any other family or been under any other circumstances, this might have been the case.
But, of course, Hena had to go and mess everything up.
When Sutekh had his little brother firmly in his grip, the teen had thought that this whole fiasco was over. Hena had been caught and whatever plans he had cooked up with his friend were now foiled… or so it seemed. Without realizing it, Sutekh had made a critical error when it came to the younger boys. He was firmly under the impression that all they needed was a reminder that they were at the most important event of the decade in order to bring them to heel; especially when it came with the promise of their parents not needing to know what the pair had been up to if they came back without a fuss. After all, if it was Sutekh in their shoes, this would be more than enough to encourage him to return to his family’s side.
However, that would imply that Hena thought like Sutekh. Both of the brothers were already more than aware that the younger boy did no such thing. Truthfully, the Sheifa heir was more than a little foolish to forget this in favor of assuming that the two boys would act in the same way… especially given that Sutkeh would never do this sort of thing in the first place. Not when he knew how important this event was through both his parents’ endless reminders and some sort of nagging feeling deep within him that was already pulling at some sort of deeply rooted guilt for not paying attention to the little Queenling at that moment.
So Sutekh really should not have been all that surprised that Hena would not care about the threat of this transgression being brought to Iaheru and Onuphrious’s attentions. Not when the tantalizing freedom of a window was already in sight. Just as Sutekh loosened his grip for a moment as he was now convinced that the boys would return with him, they bolted. Before the Sheifa heir could comprehend what was happening Hena was dashing headfirst towards the window with the clear intentions of diving through the opening. Clearly, the ten-year-old didn’t care about the sheer amount of disgrace such an action would bring to their family.
“Akhenaten!” Sutekh angrily hissed as he moved to make chase, “Get back here!”
The use of the boy’s full name rather than his nickname was a deliberate action on the older boy’s part, even if the heir was not fully aware of it. After all, that was the sort of thing that their mother or father would do whenever one of the children had crossed the line, letting their anger be conveyed through sharp tones and strict formalities rather than harsh words. It was just another sign of how deeply rooted the desire to both please and emulate his parents were in Sutekh. He had been raised under the simple assumption that one day he would be the next Sirdar. As the eldest son, it was his duty to take up the mantle of their legacies and not only would he have to be like them, he would have to be better than them. Everything they have done, every achievement they have earned, every accomplishment to their names would have to be the bare minimum for Sutekh. This was so deeply ingrained in the boy that all of his actions stemmed from what was this obvious reality for the heir. This was the basis for why he also thought that he had the authority to go get Hena in the first place. After all, he had to be like his parents. Why couldn’t he do the same things that they did?
The sad truth of it all was that despite how greatly he believed in himself and his own capabilities, the best he could do at such an unexperienced age was mimic his parents. Sutekh just wasn’t skilled enough to even dream of being able to hold a candle to the real thing.
That much became more than clear when a blur of familiar fabric rushed past him. In the course of a few seconds, the figure latched onto Hena’s clothes and brought the trouble maker toppling to the ground. At first, Sutekh thought that it must have been some sort of guard coming to stop whatever commotion was unfolding at the window. However, he was stunned to see that instead, it was his mother coming to stop the chaos that the boys had created. (Little did Sutekh know that he was included in that group and not just Hena’s little buddy who had successfully made it out the window.) With her presence now a factor in things, Hena seemingly lost all desire to lee and instead tried to pin the whole mess onto Sutekh, something that earned the younger boy a rather strong stink eye from the elder one. Under different circumstances, his brother’s attempt to blame Sutekh for everything might have been enough to trigger a knee-jerk reaction in the heir, they went ignored as Sutekh’s focus entirely rested on Iaheru.
This was kind of understandable given that just a few minutes ago, Sutekh had been fretting over whether or not the woman was suffering from the effects of heatstroke, but now she was running around as if she was some sort of lioness on the prowl. Clearly, this would be a slight cause of concern for Sutekh. “Mother! You didn’t have to--” Sutekh started to say as he moved towards Iaheru’s side, but the words were caught dead in his throat when he caught sight of the sheer anger etched on her face and how it was directed towards him just as much as Hena. The sheer surprise of this forced Sutekh to physically take a step back as he realized for the first time that even though his actions had good intentions, they were going to be met with harsh consequences.
“I’m sorry, I thought that I could get him.” He quickly sputtered out, realizing faster than Hena that he was going to have to apologize for the mess that was made if he wanted to escape with his skin intact. Honestly, Sutekh had thought that he had been doing the right thing and that he was sparing his parents this exact trouble. Now it all had spun so comically out of control. However, judging how mad Iaheru seemed to be, this excuse would do nothing to save him as their mother marched both of the boys back to where the rest of their family was waiting.
Sutekh’s head hung low in shame as he found his place again in the crowd beside his mother. He couldn’t even bear to meet his father’s gaze as the group approached. (After all, Sutekh knew that however upset Iaheru was, Onuphrious was bound to be a thousand times worse.) The boy quietly murmured another apology to the woman next to him as he tried to focus on the ceremony in order to save his family any further embarrassment. However, the sheer humiliation of it all made it very difficult for Sutekh to focus on the mystery of why things had not started yet rather than his obnoxious siblings, who more than deserved the lion’s share of the blame, behind him.
Onuphrious was right. The whole lot of them were more akin to angry tomcats than siblings. Especially with how quickly they rose to each other’s baits and nearly came to blows over and over again in regards to the most ridiculous topics. It was almost completely out of control at this point with the main trouble makers being fifteen, fourteen, and ten respectively --meaning there probably wasn’t much that the elder Sheifas could do to stamp it out of them other than hope that the threat of further punishment would be enough to keep the children in line. However, given that they were already in trouble, would the possibility of a longer punishment really stop them if one sibling wished to prod their other’s to their breaking points?
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For all the good that Sutekh was attempting to do by going after Hena, he was blind to the harsh truth that was only making things much worse. When the Sheifa heir separated himself from the grip of his mother, he had genuinely believed that he was sparing her trouble of needing to go after the wild child herself. His actions were done under the belief that it would cause less of a scene if the elder brother corralled the younger one. After all, the other courtiers would likely chalk up the actions of the Sheifa boys as insignificant in the grand scheme of things –especially in comparison to either of their parents or, gods forbid, the guards being sent after Hena instead. Truly, the fourteen-year-old thought that he was doing the right thing. Perhaps if he had been a part of any other family or been under any other circumstances, this might have been the case.
But, of course, Hena had to go and mess everything up.
When Sutekh had his little brother firmly in his grip, the teen had thought that this whole fiasco was over. Hena had been caught and whatever plans he had cooked up with his friend were now foiled… or so it seemed. Without realizing it, Sutekh had made a critical error when it came to the younger boys. He was firmly under the impression that all they needed was a reminder that they were at the most important event of the decade in order to bring them to heel; especially when it came with the promise of their parents not needing to know what the pair had been up to if they came back without a fuss. After all, if it was Sutekh in their shoes, this would be more than enough to encourage him to return to his family’s side.
However, that would imply that Hena thought like Sutekh. Both of the brothers were already more than aware that the younger boy did no such thing. Truthfully, the Sheifa heir was more than a little foolish to forget this in favor of assuming that the two boys would act in the same way… especially given that Sutkeh would never do this sort of thing in the first place. Not when he knew how important this event was through both his parents’ endless reminders and some sort of nagging feeling deep within him that was already pulling at some sort of deeply rooted guilt for not paying attention to the little Queenling at that moment.
So Sutekh really should not have been all that surprised that Hena would not care about the threat of this transgression being brought to Iaheru and Onuphrious’s attentions. Not when the tantalizing freedom of a window was already in sight. Just as Sutekh loosened his grip for a moment as he was now convinced that the boys would return with him, they bolted. Before the Sheifa heir could comprehend what was happening Hena was dashing headfirst towards the window with the clear intentions of diving through the opening. Clearly, the ten-year-old didn’t care about the sheer amount of disgrace such an action would bring to their family.
“Akhenaten!” Sutekh angrily hissed as he moved to make chase, “Get back here!”
The use of the boy’s full name rather than his nickname was a deliberate action on the older boy’s part, even if the heir was not fully aware of it. After all, that was the sort of thing that their mother or father would do whenever one of the children had crossed the line, letting their anger be conveyed through sharp tones and strict formalities rather than harsh words. It was just another sign of how deeply rooted the desire to both please and emulate his parents were in Sutekh. He had been raised under the simple assumption that one day he would be the next Sirdar. As the eldest son, it was his duty to take up the mantle of their legacies and not only would he have to be like them, he would have to be better than them. Everything they have done, every achievement they have earned, every accomplishment to their names would have to be the bare minimum for Sutekh. This was so deeply ingrained in the boy that all of his actions stemmed from what was this obvious reality for the heir. This was the basis for why he also thought that he had the authority to go get Hena in the first place. After all, he had to be like his parents. Why couldn’t he do the same things that they did?
The sad truth of it all was that despite how greatly he believed in himself and his own capabilities, the best he could do at such an unexperienced age was mimic his parents. Sutekh just wasn’t skilled enough to even dream of being able to hold a candle to the real thing.
That much became more than clear when a blur of familiar fabric rushed past him. In the course of a few seconds, the figure latched onto Hena’s clothes and brought the trouble maker toppling to the ground. At first, Sutekh thought that it must have been some sort of guard coming to stop whatever commotion was unfolding at the window. However, he was stunned to see that instead, it was his mother coming to stop the chaos that the boys had created. (Little did Sutekh know that he was included in that group and not just Hena’s little buddy who had successfully made it out the window.) With her presence now a factor in things, Hena seemingly lost all desire to lee and instead tried to pin the whole mess onto Sutekh, something that earned the younger boy a rather strong stink eye from the elder one. Under different circumstances, his brother’s attempt to blame Sutekh for everything might have been enough to trigger a knee-jerk reaction in the heir, they went ignored as Sutekh’s focus entirely rested on Iaheru.
This was kind of understandable given that just a few minutes ago, Sutekh had been fretting over whether or not the woman was suffering from the effects of heatstroke, but now she was running around as if she was some sort of lioness on the prowl. Clearly, this would be a slight cause of concern for Sutekh. “Mother! You didn’t have to--” Sutekh started to say as he moved towards Iaheru’s side, but the words were caught dead in his throat when he caught sight of the sheer anger etched on her face and how it was directed towards him just as much as Hena. The sheer surprise of this forced Sutekh to physically take a step back as he realized for the first time that even though his actions had good intentions, they were going to be met with harsh consequences.
“I’m sorry, I thought that I could get him.” He quickly sputtered out, realizing faster than Hena that he was going to have to apologize for the mess that was made if he wanted to escape with his skin intact. Honestly, Sutekh had thought that he had been doing the right thing and that he was sparing his parents this exact trouble. Now it all had spun so comically out of control. However, judging how mad Iaheru seemed to be, this excuse would do nothing to save him as their mother marched both of the boys back to where the rest of their family was waiting.
Sutekh’s head hung low in shame as he found his place again in the crowd beside his mother. He couldn’t even bear to meet his father’s gaze as the group approached. (After all, Sutekh knew that however upset Iaheru was, Onuphrious was bound to be a thousand times worse.) The boy quietly murmured another apology to the woman next to him as he tried to focus on the ceremony in order to save his family any further embarrassment. However, the sheer humiliation of it all made it very difficult for Sutekh to focus on the mystery of why things had not started yet rather than his obnoxious siblings, who more than deserved the lion’s share of the blame, behind him.
Onuphrious was right. The whole lot of them were more akin to angry tomcats than siblings. Especially with how quickly they rose to each other’s baits and nearly came to blows over and over again in regards to the most ridiculous topics. It was almost completely out of control at this point with the main trouble makers being fifteen, fourteen, and ten respectively --meaning there probably wasn’t much that the elder Sheifas could do to stamp it out of them other than hope that the threat of further punishment would be enough to keep the children in line. However, given that they were already in trouble, would the possibility of a longer punishment really stop them if one sibling wished to prod their other’s to their breaking points?
For all the good that Sutekh was attempting to do by going after Hena, he was blind to the harsh truth that was only making things much worse. When the Sheifa heir separated himself from the grip of his mother, he had genuinely believed that he was sparing her trouble of needing to go after the wild child herself. His actions were done under the belief that it would cause less of a scene if the elder brother corralled the younger one. After all, the other courtiers would likely chalk up the actions of the Sheifa boys as insignificant in the grand scheme of things –especially in comparison to either of their parents or, gods forbid, the guards being sent after Hena instead. Truly, the fourteen-year-old thought that he was doing the right thing. Perhaps if he had been a part of any other family or been under any other circumstances, this might have been the case.
But, of course, Hena had to go and mess everything up.
When Sutekh had his little brother firmly in his grip, the teen had thought that this whole fiasco was over. Hena had been caught and whatever plans he had cooked up with his friend were now foiled… or so it seemed. Without realizing it, Sutekh had made a critical error when it came to the younger boys. He was firmly under the impression that all they needed was a reminder that they were at the most important event of the decade in order to bring them to heel; especially when it came with the promise of their parents not needing to know what the pair had been up to if they came back without a fuss. After all, if it was Sutekh in their shoes, this would be more than enough to encourage him to return to his family’s side.
However, that would imply that Hena thought like Sutekh. Both of the brothers were already more than aware that the younger boy did no such thing. Truthfully, the Sheifa heir was more than a little foolish to forget this in favor of assuming that the two boys would act in the same way… especially given that Sutkeh would never do this sort of thing in the first place. Not when he knew how important this event was through both his parents’ endless reminders and some sort of nagging feeling deep within him that was already pulling at some sort of deeply rooted guilt for not paying attention to the little Queenling at that moment.
So Sutekh really should not have been all that surprised that Hena would not care about the threat of this transgression being brought to Iaheru and Onuphrious’s attentions. Not when the tantalizing freedom of a window was already in sight. Just as Sutekh loosened his grip for a moment as he was now convinced that the boys would return with him, they bolted. Before the Sheifa heir could comprehend what was happening Hena was dashing headfirst towards the window with the clear intentions of diving through the opening. Clearly, the ten-year-old didn’t care about the sheer amount of disgrace such an action would bring to their family.
“Akhenaten!” Sutekh angrily hissed as he moved to make chase, “Get back here!”
The use of the boy’s full name rather than his nickname was a deliberate action on the older boy’s part, even if the heir was not fully aware of it. After all, that was the sort of thing that their mother or father would do whenever one of the children had crossed the line, letting their anger be conveyed through sharp tones and strict formalities rather than harsh words. It was just another sign of how deeply rooted the desire to both please and emulate his parents were in Sutekh. He had been raised under the simple assumption that one day he would be the next Sirdar. As the eldest son, it was his duty to take up the mantle of their legacies and not only would he have to be like them, he would have to be better than them. Everything they have done, every achievement they have earned, every accomplishment to their names would have to be the bare minimum for Sutekh. This was so deeply ingrained in the boy that all of his actions stemmed from what was this obvious reality for the heir. This was the basis for why he also thought that he had the authority to go get Hena in the first place. After all, he had to be like his parents. Why couldn’t he do the same things that they did?
The sad truth of it all was that despite how greatly he believed in himself and his own capabilities, the best he could do at such an unexperienced age was mimic his parents. Sutekh just wasn’t skilled enough to even dream of being able to hold a candle to the real thing.
That much became more than clear when a blur of familiar fabric rushed past him. In the course of a few seconds, the figure latched onto Hena’s clothes and brought the trouble maker toppling to the ground. At first, Sutekh thought that it must have been some sort of guard coming to stop whatever commotion was unfolding at the window. However, he was stunned to see that instead, it was his mother coming to stop the chaos that the boys had created. (Little did Sutekh know that he was included in that group and not just Hena’s little buddy who had successfully made it out the window.) With her presence now a factor in things, Hena seemingly lost all desire to lee and instead tried to pin the whole mess onto Sutekh, something that earned the younger boy a rather strong stink eye from the elder one. Under different circumstances, his brother’s attempt to blame Sutekh for everything might have been enough to trigger a knee-jerk reaction in the heir, they went ignored as Sutekh’s focus entirely rested on Iaheru.
This was kind of understandable given that just a few minutes ago, Sutekh had been fretting over whether or not the woman was suffering from the effects of heatstroke, but now she was running around as if she was some sort of lioness on the prowl. Clearly, this would be a slight cause of concern for Sutekh. “Mother! You didn’t have to--” Sutekh started to say as he moved towards Iaheru’s side, but the words were caught dead in his throat when he caught sight of the sheer anger etched on her face and how it was directed towards him just as much as Hena. The sheer surprise of this forced Sutekh to physically take a step back as he realized for the first time that even though his actions had good intentions, they were going to be met with harsh consequences.
“I’m sorry, I thought that I could get him.” He quickly sputtered out, realizing faster than Hena that he was going to have to apologize for the mess that was made if he wanted to escape with his skin intact. Honestly, Sutekh had thought that he had been doing the right thing and that he was sparing his parents this exact trouble. Now it all had spun so comically out of control. However, judging how mad Iaheru seemed to be, this excuse would do nothing to save him as their mother marched both of the boys back to where the rest of their family was waiting.
Sutekh’s head hung low in shame as he found his place again in the crowd beside his mother. He couldn’t even bear to meet his father’s gaze as the group approached. (After all, Sutekh knew that however upset Iaheru was, Onuphrious was bound to be a thousand times worse.) The boy quietly murmured another apology to the woman next to him as he tried to focus on the ceremony in order to save his family any further embarrassment. However, the sheer humiliation of it all made it very difficult for Sutekh to focus on the mystery of why things had not started yet rather than his obnoxious siblings, who more than deserved the lion’s share of the blame, behind him.
Onuphrious was right. The whole lot of them were more akin to angry tomcats than siblings. Especially with how quickly they rose to each other’s baits and nearly came to blows over and over again in regards to the most ridiculous topics. It was almost completely out of control at this point with the main trouble makers being fifteen, fourteen, and ten respectively --meaning there probably wasn’t much that the elder Sheifas could do to stamp it out of them other than hope that the threat of further punishment would be enough to keep the children in line. However, given that they were already in trouble, would the possibility of a longer punishment really stop them if one sibling wished to prod their other’s to their breaking points?
Rubiah was not the tallest of girls and she hated it. It was one thing to be thought of as cute and delicate and underestimated - usually by the old or the males of the species. But it such a useful tool for manipulation was hardly a bonus when you were trying to elbow your way through a crowd.
What made it worse was her propensity for trinkets, but Rubiah liked to play the blame at the feet of the great unwashed who thought it sensible to stand smooshed together like reeds in a boat's hull, giving no opportunities for the vertically challenged to make their way to the front where they might be able to actually see something. For, instead of just swanning through as she would have wished (and liked, for it was easier to make an entrance when swanning), Rubiah was forced to squeeze and squash and shift and twist and try to get herself through the crowds at the coronation of the Queen, with little to no success.
And when she did managed to make her way between a fat baker and his fatter wife, or send an elbow into the ear of a child and have them dodging out of her way, her triumph was short lived as, more often than not, the silver pieces in her hair or one of her necklaces caught upon something and had her yanked back like a garotte. Not exactly the smooth transition from blind commoner to privileged observer that she was looking for.
With a huff and a stop, Rubiah came to the acceptance that this just wasn't working. Looking around, leaning one way and then the other, her feet not wanting to give up ground but an angle needed if she wanted to see around her human obstacles. It took her a moment but she finally spotted what she was looking for...
The event was being held outside the Grand Temple, with the royalty on the top dais of a ton of steps and the nobility down with the rest of the crowd (unless given particular permission). The open space before the temple itself, where everyone was crowded to witness the Queen's coronation before the populace, was interrupted by four podiums, upon which the priests might stand if they had an announcement or offerings might be left by common folk in a rush.
And there was one nearby.
Moving quickly towards it, Rubiah shoved and pushed and pried her hair loose from another person's belt and then managed to leap onto the offering podium.
Unfortunately, someone else had had exactly the same idea and with the force of their leap was unable to stop themselves slamming into Rubiah's side!
"Son of a-!"
Her word was lost as she snapped her teeth shut so that she didn't bite of her tongue as she fell, her smaller size putting her at a disadvantage again to the young male brute that had taken on the same hill to climb. But the crowds that had been her obstacle until now, now became her salvation as, instead of hitting hard paving stones of the courtyard, Rubiah fell upon the noble witnesses of the event, her back hitting soft person instead of hard floor...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Rubiah was not the tallest of girls and she hated it. It was one thing to be thought of as cute and delicate and underestimated - usually by the old or the males of the species. But it such a useful tool for manipulation was hardly a bonus when you were trying to elbow your way through a crowd.
What made it worse was her propensity for trinkets, but Rubiah liked to play the blame at the feet of the great unwashed who thought it sensible to stand smooshed together like reeds in a boat's hull, giving no opportunities for the vertically challenged to make their way to the front where they might be able to actually see something. For, instead of just swanning through as she would have wished (and liked, for it was easier to make an entrance when swanning), Rubiah was forced to squeeze and squash and shift and twist and try to get herself through the crowds at the coronation of the Queen, with little to no success.
And when she did managed to make her way between a fat baker and his fatter wife, or send an elbow into the ear of a child and have them dodging out of her way, her triumph was short lived as, more often than not, the silver pieces in her hair or one of her necklaces caught upon something and had her yanked back like a garotte. Not exactly the smooth transition from blind commoner to privileged observer that she was looking for.
With a huff and a stop, Rubiah came to the acceptance that this just wasn't working. Looking around, leaning one way and then the other, her feet not wanting to give up ground but an angle needed if she wanted to see around her human obstacles. It took her a moment but she finally spotted what she was looking for...
The event was being held outside the Grand Temple, with the royalty on the top dais of a ton of steps and the nobility down with the rest of the crowd (unless given particular permission). The open space before the temple itself, where everyone was crowded to witness the Queen's coronation before the populace, was interrupted by four podiums, upon which the priests might stand if they had an announcement or offerings might be left by common folk in a rush.
And there was one nearby.
Moving quickly towards it, Rubiah shoved and pushed and pried her hair loose from another person's belt and then managed to leap onto the offering podium.
Unfortunately, someone else had had exactly the same idea and with the force of their leap was unable to stop themselves slamming into Rubiah's side!
"Son of a-!"
Her word was lost as she snapped her teeth shut so that she didn't bite of her tongue as she fell, her smaller size putting her at a disadvantage again to the young male brute that had taken on the same hill to climb. But the crowds that had been her obstacle until now, now became her salvation as, instead of hitting hard paving stones of the courtyard, Rubiah fell upon the noble witnesses of the event, her back hitting soft person instead of hard floor...
Rubiah was not the tallest of girls and she hated it. It was one thing to be thought of as cute and delicate and underestimated - usually by the old or the males of the species. But it such a useful tool for manipulation was hardly a bonus when you were trying to elbow your way through a crowd.
What made it worse was her propensity for trinkets, but Rubiah liked to play the blame at the feet of the great unwashed who thought it sensible to stand smooshed together like reeds in a boat's hull, giving no opportunities for the vertically challenged to make their way to the front where they might be able to actually see something. For, instead of just swanning through as she would have wished (and liked, for it was easier to make an entrance when swanning), Rubiah was forced to squeeze and squash and shift and twist and try to get herself through the crowds at the coronation of the Queen, with little to no success.
And when she did managed to make her way between a fat baker and his fatter wife, or send an elbow into the ear of a child and have them dodging out of her way, her triumph was short lived as, more often than not, the silver pieces in her hair or one of her necklaces caught upon something and had her yanked back like a garotte. Not exactly the smooth transition from blind commoner to privileged observer that she was looking for.
With a huff and a stop, Rubiah came to the acceptance that this just wasn't working. Looking around, leaning one way and then the other, her feet not wanting to give up ground but an angle needed if she wanted to see around her human obstacles. It took her a moment but she finally spotted what she was looking for...
The event was being held outside the Grand Temple, with the royalty on the top dais of a ton of steps and the nobility down with the rest of the crowd (unless given particular permission). The open space before the temple itself, where everyone was crowded to witness the Queen's coronation before the populace, was interrupted by four podiums, upon which the priests might stand if they had an announcement or offerings might be left by common folk in a rush.
And there was one nearby.
Moving quickly towards it, Rubiah shoved and pushed and pried her hair loose from another person's belt and then managed to leap onto the offering podium.
Unfortunately, someone else had had exactly the same idea and with the force of their leap was unable to stop themselves slamming into Rubiah's side!
"Son of a-!"
Her word was lost as she snapped her teeth shut so that she didn't bite of her tongue as she fell, her smaller size putting her at a disadvantage again to the young male brute that had taken on the same hill to climb. But the crowds that had been her obstacle until now, now became her salvation as, instead of hitting hard paving stones of the courtyard, Rubiah fell upon the noble witnesses of the event, her back hitting soft person instead of hard floor...
“Oh,” Hatshepsut said softly. She should have known that Mentuenheqau was a priest of Ptah and not Ra. Her mother had drilled her on the names of the established priests and priestesses and the gods they served, but it was just so much to remember, especially at a time like this when she was anxious and afraid. Though she wondered where her mother was, she was glad that she had not heard her blunder. She would have looked at her with that disapproving frown that made the child Queen feel as if she was two inches tall.
Did it really matter if the priest who crowned her served Ptah? He was, after all, the creator of all things and had brought forth the world with a thought. Perhaps for some reason, he wanted one of his priests to crown her. Zosie didn’t think it would be an ill omen, and Zosie knew everything.
The master of ceremonies looked startled, and Hatshepsut bit down a bit harder on her painted lip. Had her first decision been a good one? Were the gods smiling as they looked down on her? Or would they smite her as soon as she entered the temple? No, they wouldn't smite her. Only Egyptian gods smited people … or smote them … or whatever the correct form of that word was.
The master of ceremonies bowed to her again and hurried out of the room where all monarchs were traditionally prepared for their coronation ceremonies. Her father had been here too, long before she was born. Had he been nervous too?
Hatshepsut smiled tremulously as she watched Zoser walk toward her. He knelt before her, and his hand on her shoulder and his proud smile boosted her spirits. “I did the right thing?” she asked, her kohl-rimmed eyes widening. Had the gods been testing her and she had passed with flying colors?
A novice priestess stepped forward and looked her over, using the white cloth in her hand to wipe a bit of red ochre from the little girl’s teeth, which had been stained when she bit her lip. Then she dabbed a bit more upon her lips. “I’m not as afraid anymore,” the little Queen remarked, cocking her head to the side. Before the interruption, she had almost asked if Zosie could walk with her, but now she knew that she had to do this alone, as her father had before her. She didn’t want to, but she would think of the gods striding beside her and she would be okay.
A few minutes later, the master of ceremonies returned, bowing again with his head to the ground. ‘Your Evening Radiance, the High Priest of Ra has been located. He is awaiting you in the temple.’ What he didn’t mention was the reason that the priest had temporarily disappeared. He had gone to take a leak, which was definitely not something the new Queen needed to know. Or anyone else, for that matter. People liked to imagine that priests and priestesses were above taking care of base bodily functions.
Hatshepsut grinned at Zoser and hugged him tightly. “I will be crowned by the High Priest of Ra, after all! But I still made a decision that would have worked just as well. Didn’t I?” She still needed reassurance from the man she respected above all others. She was feeling more like a Queen now, though she still wished being crowned would make her all grown up.
Pulling away, she squared her small shoulders. “I am ready,” she said solemnly to the master of ceremonies. After instructing her to step into the temple as soon as she heard the music, he left again. “You will stand in the front so I can see you, won’t you, Zosie? I won’t be scared if you are close to me.”
The first strains of music wafted through the air. A brief look of panic flickered across her childish features but was quickly repressed. Squeezing Zoser’s hand, she left the room and stepped into the open square of the temple. Servants followed her with baskets of offerings for the gods.
Hatshepsut blinked to adjust her eyes to the sunlight. She was fully aware of the great crowd that had gathered to watch her coronation and she wanted to look around. But she had been instructed to walk regally and keep her gaze straight ahead. Trembling slightly, she moved slowly toward the center, where the high priest stood, the music swirling around her. I hope I don’t trip and fall, she thought.
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“Oh,” Hatshepsut said softly. She should have known that Mentuenheqau was a priest of Ptah and not Ra. Her mother had drilled her on the names of the established priests and priestesses and the gods they served, but it was just so much to remember, especially at a time like this when she was anxious and afraid. Though she wondered where her mother was, she was glad that she had not heard her blunder. She would have looked at her with that disapproving frown that made the child Queen feel as if she was two inches tall.
Did it really matter if the priest who crowned her served Ptah? He was, after all, the creator of all things and had brought forth the world with a thought. Perhaps for some reason, he wanted one of his priests to crown her. Zosie didn’t think it would be an ill omen, and Zosie knew everything.
The master of ceremonies looked startled, and Hatshepsut bit down a bit harder on her painted lip. Had her first decision been a good one? Were the gods smiling as they looked down on her? Or would they smite her as soon as she entered the temple? No, they wouldn't smite her. Only Egyptian gods smited people … or smote them … or whatever the correct form of that word was.
The master of ceremonies bowed to her again and hurried out of the room where all monarchs were traditionally prepared for their coronation ceremonies. Her father had been here too, long before she was born. Had he been nervous too?
Hatshepsut smiled tremulously as she watched Zoser walk toward her. He knelt before her, and his hand on her shoulder and his proud smile boosted her spirits. “I did the right thing?” she asked, her kohl-rimmed eyes widening. Had the gods been testing her and she had passed with flying colors?
A novice priestess stepped forward and looked her over, using the white cloth in her hand to wipe a bit of red ochre from the little girl’s teeth, which had been stained when she bit her lip. Then she dabbed a bit more upon her lips. “I’m not as afraid anymore,” the little Queen remarked, cocking her head to the side. Before the interruption, she had almost asked if Zosie could walk with her, but now she knew that she had to do this alone, as her father had before her. She didn’t want to, but she would think of the gods striding beside her and she would be okay.
A few minutes later, the master of ceremonies returned, bowing again with his head to the ground. ‘Your Evening Radiance, the High Priest of Ra has been located. He is awaiting you in the temple.’ What he didn’t mention was the reason that the priest had temporarily disappeared. He had gone to take a leak, which was definitely not something the new Queen needed to know. Or anyone else, for that matter. People liked to imagine that priests and priestesses were above taking care of base bodily functions.
Hatshepsut grinned at Zoser and hugged him tightly. “I will be crowned by the High Priest of Ra, after all! But I still made a decision that would have worked just as well. Didn’t I?” She still needed reassurance from the man she respected above all others. She was feeling more like a Queen now, though she still wished being crowned would make her all grown up.
Pulling away, she squared her small shoulders. “I am ready,” she said solemnly to the master of ceremonies. After instructing her to step into the temple as soon as she heard the music, he left again. “You will stand in the front so I can see you, won’t you, Zosie? I won’t be scared if you are close to me.”
The first strains of music wafted through the air. A brief look of panic flickered across her childish features but was quickly repressed. Squeezing Zoser’s hand, she left the room and stepped into the open square of the temple. Servants followed her with baskets of offerings for the gods.
Hatshepsut blinked to adjust her eyes to the sunlight. She was fully aware of the great crowd that had gathered to watch her coronation and she wanted to look around. But she had been instructed to walk regally and keep her gaze straight ahead. Trembling slightly, she moved slowly toward the center, where the high priest stood, the music swirling around her. I hope I don’t trip and fall, she thought.
“Oh,” Hatshepsut said softly. She should have known that Mentuenheqau was a priest of Ptah and not Ra. Her mother had drilled her on the names of the established priests and priestesses and the gods they served, but it was just so much to remember, especially at a time like this when she was anxious and afraid. Though she wondered where her mother was, she was glad that she had not heard her blunder. She would have looked at her with that disapproving frown that made the child Queen feel as if she was two inches tall.
Did it really matter if the priest who crowned her served Ptah? He was, after all, the creator of all things and had brought forth the world with a thought. Perhaps for some reason, he wanted one of his priests to crown her. Zosie didn’t think it would be an ill omen, and Zosie knew everything.
The master of ceremonies looked startled, and Hatshepsut bit down a bit harder on her painted lip. Had her first decision been a good one? Were the gods smiling as they looked down on her? Or would they smite her as soon as she entered the temple? No, they wouldn't smite her. Only Egyptian gods smited people … or smote them … or whatever the correct form of that word was.
The master of ceremonies bowed to her again and hurried out of the room where all monarchs were traditionally prepared for their coronation ceremonies. Her father had been here too, long before she was born. Had he been nervous too?
Hatshepsut smiled tremulously as she watched Zoser walk toward her. He knelt before her, and his hand on her shoulder and his proud smile boosted her spirits. “I did the right thing?” she asked, her kohl-rimmed eyes widening. Had the gods been testing her and she had passed with flying colors?
A novice priestess stepped forward and looked her over, using the white cloth in her hand to wipe a bit of red ochre from the little girl’s teeth, which had been stained when she bit her lip. Then she dabbed a bit more upon her lips. “I’m not as afraid anymore,” the little Queen remarked, cocking her head to the side. Before the interruption, she had almost asked if Zosie could walk with her, but now she knew that she had to do this alone, as her father had before her. She didn’t want to, but she would think of the gods striding beside her and she would be okay.
A few minutes later, the master of ceremonies returned, bowing again with his head to the ground. ‘Your Evening Radiance, the High Priest of Ra has been located. He is awaiting you in the temple.’ What he didn’t mention was the reason that the priest had temporarily disappeared. He had gone to take a leak, which was definitely not something the new Queen needed to know. Or anyone else, for that matter. People liked to imagine that priests and priestesses were above taking care of base bodily functions.
Hatshepsut grinned at Zoser and hugged him tightly. “I will be crowned by the High Priest of Ra, after all! But I still made a decision that would have worked just as well. Didn’t I?” She still needed reassurance from the man she respected above all others. She was feeling more like a Queen now, though she still wished being crowned would make her all grown up.
Pulling away, she squared her small shoulders. “I am ready,” she said solemnly to the master of ceremonies. After instructing her to step into the temple as soon as she heard the music, he left again. “You will stand in the front so I can see you, won’t you, Zosie? I won’t be scared if you are close to me.”
The first strains of music wafted through the air. A brief look of panic flickered across her childish features but was quickly repressed. Squeezing Zoser’s hand, she left the room and stepped into the open square of the temple. Servants followed her with baskets of offerings for the gods.
Hatshepsut blinked to adjust her eyes to the sunlight. She was fully aware of the great crowd that had gathered to watch her coronation and she wanted to look around. But she had been instructed to walk regally and keep her gaze straight ahead. Trembling slightly, she moved slowly toward the center, where the high priest stood, the music swirling around her. I hope I don’t trip and fall, she thought.
The Sirdar’s jaw was set in a hard line when his wife returned with his two sons, his glare searing in its intensity. Watching Sutekh settle back in next to Iaheru and Akhenaten next to Neithotep, his teeth were clenched as he uttered, “If any of the three of you so much as takes a step out of line for the rest of the ceremony, I will make certain that you wish you hadn’t,” he threatened his children, the creases in his face deepening in his ire. “Any punishment you’ve faced before will be child’s play in comparison.”
Settling his eyes on each of them in turn to make sure they understood, he shook his head with a frustrated sigh. What had Onuphrious ever done to deserve such disrespectful offspring? He and Iaheru had done their best to ensure their children lived rich and fulfilling lives, and as far as he was concerned, they had succeeded. So, why, oh why, must the ungrateful brats disobey them at every turn? Turning away from the troublemakers, he looked down on Nefertaari with a smile. His smile was returned with a smug one of her own, the father’s arm wrapping lovingly around his daughter. At least, he hadn’t failed with her.
Turning his attention back to the proceedings, he was unaware of the hubbub off to the side—unaware, at least, until a young woman came crashing right into him and Nefertaari. Yelling out in surprise, he lifted his arms in reflex, catching the brunt of the girl’s fall before all three went toppling to the floor. “What in all the gods’ names?” he cried out, disoriented, steadying the girl before regaining his proper footing.
Braids caught up in the usekh collar around his neck, he gently worked on extracting them while his daughter made noises of disgust and irritation at his side. “Now, now, Nef, it’s not her fault,” he gently reprimanded his oldest child, offering the stranger a smile. “Are you all right?”
Interrupting the girl’s answer, the first strains of music could be heard heralding the young princess’s arrival and the beginning of the ceremony. It was about time things got underway; what had taken so long in the first place? At this point, there wasn’t any time to find where the girl actually belonged, and so he offered in a quiet voice, “It’s all right, child, you can stand with us if you wish. So long as you don’t cause any more fuss than my own children have.”
A sidelong glare was directed at Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten before the Sirdar straightened up and stood to attention. Turning so he could watch Hatshepsut’s procession down the aisle, he was soon caught back up in the excitement of watching history being made.
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The Sirdar’s jaw was set in a hard line when his wife returned with his two sons, his glare searing in its intensity. Watching Sutekh settle back in next to Iaheru and Akhenaten next to Neithotep, his teeth were clenched as he uttered, “If any of the three of you so much as takes a step out of line for the rest of the ceremony, I will make certain that you wish you hadn’t,” he threatened his children, the creases in his face deepening in his ire. “Any punishment you’ve faced before will be child’s play in comparison.”
Settling his eyes on each of them in turn to make sure they understood, he shook his head with a frustrated sigh. What had Onuphrious ever done to deserve such disrespectful offspring? He and Iaheru had done their best to ensure their children lived rich and fulfilling lives, and as far as he was concerned, they had succeeded. So, why, oh why, must the ungrateful brats disobey them at every turn? Turning away from the troublemakers, he looked down on Nefertaari with a smile. His smile was returned with a smug one of her own, the father’s arm wrapping lovingly around his daughter. At least, he hadn’t failed with her.
Turning his attention back to the proceedings, he was unaware of the hubbub off to the side—unaware, at least, until a young woman came crashing right into him and Nefertaari. Yelling out in surprise, he lifted his arms in reflex, catching the brunt of the girl’s fall before all three went toppling to the floor. “What in all the gods’ names?” he cried out, disoriented, steadying the girl before regaining his proper footing.
Braids caught up in the usekh collar around his neck, he gently worked on extracting them while his daughter made noises of disgust and irritation at his side. “Now, now, Nef, it’s not her fault,” he gently reprimanded his oldest child, offering the stranger a smile. “Are you all right?”
Interrupting the girl’s answer, the first strains of music could be heard heralding the young princess’s arrival and the beginning of the ceremony. It was about time things got underway; what had taken so long in the first place? At this point, there wasn’t any time to find where the girl actually belonged, and so he offered in a quiet voice, “It’s all right, child, you can stand with us if you wish. So long as you don’t cause any more fuss than my own children have.”
A sidelong glare was directed at Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten before the Sirdar straightened up and stood to attention. Turning so he could watch Hatshepsut’s procession down the aisle, he was soon caught back up in the excitement of watching history being made.
The Sirdar’s jaw was set in a hard line when his wife returned with his two sons, his glare searing in its intensity. Watching Sutekh settle back in next to Iaheru and Akhenaten next to Neithotep, his teeth were clenched as he uttered, “If any of the three of you so much as takes a step out of line for the rest of the ceremony, I will make certain that you wish you hadn’t,” he threatened his children, the creases in his face deepening in his ire. “Any punishment you’ve faced before will be child’s play in comparison.”
Settling his eyes on each of them in turn to make sure they understood, he shook his head with a frustrated sigh. What had Onuphrious ever done to deserve such disrespectful offspring? He and Iaheru had done their best to ensure their children lived rich and fulfilling lives, and as far as he was concerned, they had succeeded. So, why, oh why, must the ungrateful brats disobey them at every turn? Turning away from the troublemakers, he looked down on Nefertaari with a smile. His smile was returned with a smug one of her own, the father’s arm wrapping lovingly around his daughter. At least, he hadn’t failed with her.
Turning his attention back to the proceedings, he was unaware of the hubbub off to the side—unaware, at least, until a young woman came crashing right into him and Nefertaari. Yelling out in surprise, he lifted his arms in reflex, catching the brunt of the girl’s fall before all three went toppling to the floor. “What in all the gods’ names?” he cried out, disoriented, steadying the girl before regaining his proper footing.
Braids caught up in the usekh collar around his neck, he gently worked on extracting them while his daughter made noises of disgust and irritation at his side. “Now, now, Nef, it’s not her fault,” he gently reprimanded his oldest child, offering the stranger a smile. “Are you all right?”
Interrupting the girl’s answer, the first strains of music could be heard heralding the young princess’s arrival and the beginning of the ceremony. It was about time things got underway; what had taken so long in the first place? At this point, there wasn’t any time to find where the girl actually belonged, and so he offered in a quiet voice, “It’s all right, child, you can stand with us if you wish. So long as you don’t cause any more fuss than my own children have.”
A sidelong glare was directed at Sutekh, Neithotep, and Akhenaten before the Sirdar straightened up and stood to attention. Turning so he could watch Hatshepsut’s procession down the aisle, he was soon caught back up in the excitement of watching history being made.
Her brother’s face was sheepish as he came to stand next to her, a whispered apology falling from his lips as fingers tangled with hers. While, yes, Nia was annoyed at Hena’s behavior, she never stayed angry with him for long. Gently squeezing his hand, she gave him a half-hearted smile. Gods, if only Sutekh hadn’t butted his stupid nose in…
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “Just… probably behave for the rest of the time we’re here,” she suggested with a soft laugh. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”
As if on cue, her father chimed in with just that, threatening punishment like they’d never seen if they didn’t stop causing a scene. Nia held her tongue against a nasty retort, wisely deciding this was neither the time nor the place. While she didn’t particularly fear her parents’ form of discipline, she also didn’t wish to provoke them further. Especially since exactly none of this was even her fault.
Instead, she simply nodded with a mumbled, “Yes, Father,” falling silent again with Hena at her side. As soon as Onuphrious turned back around, she directed another glare at Sutekh’s back, but quickly let it fall away. No need to chance him turning around and starting this whole process all over again.
All seemed to be going well, the family at an uneasy truce when the unknown girl came crashing in on her father and sister. Positioned behind them, Nia took several quick steps back, dragging Hena along with her. “Gods, and Father thinks we’re the troublemakers here,” she muttered to her brother with an annoyed roll of her eyes. At least they weren’t falling all over the nobility.
Luckily, the situation seemed to sort itself rather quickly, Nia rapidly losing interest in the wake of the minstrels’ opening chords. At last! It felt like they’d already been here for hours waiting for all this pomp and circumstance to begin, and now it was finally going to. Sure, a coronation was a momentous occasion, but it was still some overblown fancy ceremony where she could barely even see what was happening. The sooner it started, the sooner it was over with.
Standing on tiptoe and craning her head around the nobles surrounding her, Nia turned back toward the entrance where young Hatshepsut stood, looking exactly like a child forced into adult clothing. For a moment, Nia’s heart filled with pity—what little girl deserved to lose their childhood in such a way? From this day forward, the young Queen would never get to be just a simple child again. As much as she shunned the responsibility that came with a being a noblewoman of her status, Nia couldn’t imagine ruling a kingdom on top of it.
Oh, well. Glad it’s not me.
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Her brother’s face was sheepish as he came to stand next to her, a whispered apology falling from his lips as fingers tangled with hers. While, yes, Nia was annoyed at Hena’s behavior, she never stayed angry with him for long. Gently squeezing his hand, she gave him a half-hearted smile. Gods, if only Sutekh hadn’t butted his stupid nose in…
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “Just… probably behave for the rest of the time we’re here,” she suggested with a soft laugh. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”
As if on cue, her father chimed in with just that, threatening punishment like they’d never seen if they didn’t stop causing a scene. Nia held her tongue against a nasty retort, wisely deciding this was neither the time nor the place. While she didn’t particularly fear her parents’ form of discipline, she also didn’t wish to provoke them further. Especially since exactly none of this was even her fault.
Instead, she simply nodded with a mumbled, “Yes, Father,” falling silent again with Hena at her side. As soon as Onuphrious turned back around, she directed another glare at Sutekh’s back, but quickly let it fall away. No need to chance him turning around and starting this whole process all over again.
All seemed to be going well, the family at an uneasy truce when the unknown girl came crashing in on her father and sister. Positioned behind them, Nia took several quick steps back, dragging Hena along with her. “Gods, and Father thinks we’re the troublemakers here,” she muttered to her brother with an annoyed roll of her eyes. At least they weren’t falling all over the nobility.
Luckily, the situation seemed to sort itself rather quickly, Nia rapidly losing interest in the wake of the minstrels’ opening chords. At last! It felt like they’d already been here for hours waiting for all this pomp and circumstance to begin, and now it was finally going to. Sure, a coronation was a momentous occasion, but it was still some overblown fancy ceremony where she could barely even see what was happening. The sooner it started, the sooner it was over with.
Standing on tiptoe and craning her head around the nobles surrounding her, Nia turned back toward the entrance where young Hatshepsut stood, looking exactly like a child forced into adult clothing. For a moment, Nia’s heart filled with pity—what little girl deserved to lose their childhood in such a way? From this day forward, the young Queen would never get to be just a simple child again. As much as she shunned the responsibility that came with a being a noblewoman of her status, Nia couldn’t imagine ruling a kingdom on top of it.
Oh, well. Glad it’s not me.
Her brother’s face was sheepish as he came to stand next to her, a whispered apology falling from his lips as fingers tangled with hers. While, yes, Nia was annoyed at Hena’s behavior, she never stayed angry with him for long. Gently squeezing his hand, she gave him a half-hearted smile. Gods, if only Sutekh hadn’t butted his stupid nose in…
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “Just… probably behave for the rest of the time we’re here,” she suggested with a soft laugh. “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”
As if on cue, her father chimed in with just that, threatening punishment like they’d never seen if they didn’t stop causing a scene. Nia held her tongue against a nasty retort, wisely deciding this was neither the time nor the place. While she didn’t particularly fear her parents’ form of discipline, she also didn’t wish to provoke them further. Especially since exactly none of this was even her fault.
Instead, she simply nodded with a mumbled, “Yes, Father,” falling silent again with Hena at her side. As soon as Onuphrious turned back around, she directed another glare at Sutekh’s back, but quickly let it fall away. No need to chance him turning around and starting this whole process all over again.
All seemed to be going well, the family at an uneasy truce when the unknown girl came crashing in on her father and sister. Positioned behind them, Nia took several quick steps back, dragging Hena along with her. “Gods, and Father thinks we’re the troublemakers here,” she muttered to her brother with an annoyed roll of her eyes. At least they weren’t falling all over the nobility.
Luckily, the situation seemed to sort itself rather quickly, Nia rapidly losing interest in the wake of the minstrels’ opening chords. At last! It felt like they’d already been here for hours waiting for all this pomp and circumstance to begin, and now it was finally going to. Sure, a coronation was a momentous occasion, but it was still some overblown fancy ceremony where she could barely even see what was happening. The sooner it started, the sooner it was over with.
Standing on tiptoe and craning her head around the nobles surrounding her, Nia turned back toward the entrance where young Hatshepsut stood, looking exactly like a child forced into adult clothing. For a moment, Nia’s heart filled with pity—what little girl deserved to lose their childhood in such a way? From this day forward, the young Queen would never get to be just a simple child again. As much as she shunned the responsibility that came with a being a noblewoman of her status, Nia couldn’t imagine ruling a kingdom on top of it.
Oh, well. Glad it’s not me.
Hena was sorry for his actions, but only slightly. For the most part he did not think that he had really done anything wrong, he had been standing there nicely prior to Sutekh berating him for moving slightly. It wasn’t his fault, his older brother knew how much he bothered Hena, and he had probably done it just to get him in trouble, but it had backfired and now both of them were in trouble. It wasn’t the first time he had heard a similar threat from their father, and he doubted it would be the last time. And yet there was a small part of Hena that was sorry and did feel ashamed, so he stood there as still and quiet as he possibly could.
Until there was some random person crashing into his dad and sister, and Nia was pulling him backwards and out of the way so that he was not knocked over with them. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what had just happened, and why his father was being so nice to the woman that had just caused such a commotion. And yet he had gotten in trouble just for simply running through the crowd. He hadn’t made as big of a deal as this woman had, Hena could see people staring at them now.
Well that just wasn’t fair.
But he kept quiet, preferring to avoid any more of his father’s wrath at the moment. He stuck close to Nia, a little concerned about the random woman that their father had decided to invite to stand with them for some reason. Did he know her? She did not seem like the type of person that their father would know, or if he did it was in passing and he wouldn’t spend time with someone like her.
But maybe Hena was wrong.
He tugged on his sisters dress and looked up at her, whispering.
“I’m thirsty.” He said, whining a little. He was uncomfortable and he just wanted to go home and have this all be done with.
But before anything could be done about his thirst, suddenly music was playing and the crowds attention turned. Hena was too short to see anything, no matter how hard he strained to peer over the crowds, but he could assume what was happening, and he really wasn’t all that interested. So instead he stood there, arms crossed as he tried his best not to think about how dry his mouth was or how he hated having to stand in one spot. He really was doing his best to behave, it just wasn’t easy for him.
His parents didn’t seem to understand, perhaps because it had been so many years since they had been any where near his age. Maybe they had completely forgotten what it was like to be young and full of energy. Though Hena honestly couldn’t imagine his parents ever having any sort of fun. Perhaps they had been just as dull and boring when they were his age.
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Hena was sorry for his actions, but only slightly. For the most part he did not think that he had really done anything wrong, he had been standing there nicely prior to Sutekh berating him for moving slightly. It wasn’t his fault, his older brother knew how much he bothered Hena, and he had probably done it just to get him in trouble, but it had backfired and now both of them were in trouble. It wasn’t the first time he had heard a similar threat from their father, and he doubted it would be the last time. And yet there was a small part of Hena that was sorry and did feel ashamed, so he stood there as still and quiet as he possibly could.
Until there was some random person crashing into his dad and sister, and Nia was pulling him backwards and out of the way so that he was not knocked over with them. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what had just happened, and why his father was being so nice to the woman that had just caused such a commotion. And yet he had gotten in trouble just for simply running through the crowd. He hadn’t made as big of a deal as this woman had, Hena could see people staring at them now.
Well that just wasn’t fair.
But he kept quiet, preferring to avoid any more of his father’s wrath at the moment. He stuck close to Nia, a little concerned about the random woman that their father had decided to invite to stand with them for some reason. Did he know her? She did not seem like the type of person that their father would know, or if he did it was in passing and he wouldn’t spend time with someone like her.
But maybe Hena was wrong.
He tugged on his sisters dress and looked up at her, whispering.
“I’m thirsty.” He said, whining a little. He was uncomfortable and he just wanted to go home and have this all be done with.
But before anything could be done about his thirst, suddenly music was playing and the crowds attention turned. Hena was too short to see anything, no matter how hard he strained to peer over the crowds, but he could assume what was happening, and he really wasn’t all that interested. So instead he stood there, arms crossed as he tried his best not to think about how dry his mouth was or how he hated having to stand in one spot. He really was doing his best to behave, it just wasn’t easy for him.
His parents didn’t seem to understand, perhaps because it had been so many years since they had been any where near his age. Maybe they had completely forgotten what it was like to be young and full of energy. Though Hena honestly couldn’t imagine his parents ever having any sort of fun. Perhaps they had been just as dull and boring when they were his age.
Hena was sorry for his actions, but only slightly. For the most part he did not think that he had really done anything wrong, he had been standing there nicely prior to Sutekh berating him for moving slightly. It wasn’t his fault, his older brother knew how much he bothered Hena, and he had probably done it just to get him in trouble, but it had backfired and now both of them were in trouble. It wasn’t the first time he had heard a similar threat from their father, and he doubted it would be the last time. And yet there was a small part of Hena that was sorry and did feel ashamed, so he stood there as still and quiet as he possibly could.
Until there was some random person crashing into his dad and sister, and Nia was pulling him backwards and out of the way so that he was not knocked over with them. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what had just happened, and why his father was being so nice to the woman that had just caused such a commotion. And yet he had gotten in trouble just for simply running through the crowd. He hadn’t made as big of a deal as this woman had, Hena could see people staring at them now.
Well that just wasn’t fair.
But he kept quiet, preferring to avoid any more of his father’s wrath at the moment. He stuck close to Nia, a little concerned about the random woman that their father had decided to invite to stand with them for some reason. Did he know her? She did not seem like the type of person that their father would know, or if he did it was in passing and he wouldn’t spend time with someone like her.
But maybe Hena was wrong.
He tugged on his sisters dress and looked up at her, whispering.
“I’m thirsty.” He said, whining a little. He was uncomfortable and he just wanted to go home and have this all be done with.
But before anything could be done about his thirst, suddenly music was playing and the crowds attention turned. Hena was too short to see anything, no matter how hard he strained to peer over the crowds, but he could assume what was happening, and he really wasn’t all that interested. So instead he stood there, arms crossed as he tried his best not to think about how dry his mouth was or how he hated having to stand in one spot. He really was doing his best to behave, it just wasn’t easy for him.
His parents didn’t seem to understand, perhaps because it had been so many years since they had been any where near his age. Maybe they had completely forgotten what it was like to be young and full of energy. Though Hena honestly couldn’t imagine his parents ever having any sort of fun. Perhaps they had been just as dull and boring when they were his age.
Khufu of course was in attendance of the ceremony, though not of willing choice. He was there as duty called, as a soldier he had been chosen for guard duty as extra force was needed for the sheer number of people that were in attendance. In case something happened, they wanted to be sure that there would be an appropriate number of trained men to control it.
And so he stood there, in formal dress armour that was really more for show than practicality, eyes scanning the crowds of nobles who were lucky enough to be closer to the ceremony itself. He held his polearm in one hand, his favoured weapon, and one he was impressive with. He of course had a sword at his side, if things needed to get deadly, but the imposing staff ought to be enough to deter anyone who thought they could try him, without having to cause major injury for the most part.
So far not much had gone on, at least nothing that particularly concerned Khufu. There were some kids running around, which he kept an eye on, but a woman who seemed to be their mother took care of that quickly and once again things settled. Aside from the scramble to find the priest who was supposed to commence the ceremony. He groaned internally, this wasn’t what he wanted, for this day to drag out longer than it needed to.
As the soon to be Queen started her journey to her title, Khufu perked up, his senses going into overdrive as he watched for any issues. Someone caught his eye, a man with a hood who was trying to make his way through the crowd. Nothing completely unusual, but enough that Khufu looked passed the hood to see what he could see. The man’s skin was pale, far too pale to be from Egypt.
The last thing he wanted was to cause some sort of commotion or wreck the ceremony, but there was something off about this stranger that was making his approach to the edge of the crowd where Hatshepsut walked.
He moved from his spot, no other guard seemed to have noticed this stranger, and he weaved his way through the crowds himself, heart racing as he hoped that he would be able to make a move before this man got any where near the young woman who would soon be crowned as their royal leader.
He spotted a dagger in that man’s hand, just barely visible hidden by his side and he really hurried then, not caring who he shoved in order to get to the man. There would be no assassinations on his watch. He moved quickly forward, and the man spotted him, seeming like he was going to make a mad dash for his target through the rest of the crowd. Khufu managed to swing his polearm back, and bring it heavily down between the man’s shoulder blade. He fell to the ground, dagger clattering on the ground as he dropped it.
Khufu moved to step on the man’s back and hold him to the ground as finally the other guards noticed the goings on and made their way through the crowd to come and gather the man.
As he stood there, he realized he was right near the family of the kids who had run off, and for the most part he was being stared at. He gave them all a smile, feeling a bit awkward about being stared at.
“Hope you’re enjoying the ceremony.” He said, as if he wasn’t currently stepping on a would-be assassin right in front of the family.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Khufu of course was in attendance of the ceremony, though not of willing choice. He was there as duty called, as a soldier he had been chosen for guard duty as extra force was needed for the sheer number of people that were in attendance. In case something happened, they wanted to be sure that there would be an appropriate number of trained men to control it.
And so he stood there, in formal dress armour that was really more for show than practicality, eyes scanning the crowds of nobles who were lucky enough to be closer to the ceremony itself. He held his polearm in one hand, his favoured weapon, and one he was impressive with. He of course had a sword at his side, if things needed to get deadly, but the imposing staff ought to be enough to deter anyone who thought they could try him, without having to cause major injury for the most part.
So far not much had gone on, at least nothing that particularly concerned Khufu. There were some kids running around, which he kept an eye on, but a woman who seemed to be their mother took care of that quickly and once again things settled. Aside from the scramble to find the priest who was supposed to commence the ceremony. He groaned internally, this wasn’t what he wanted, for this day to drag out longer than it needed to.
As the soon to be Queen started her journey to her title, Khufu perked up, his senses going into overdrive as he watched for any issues. Someone caught his eye, a man with a hood who was trying to make his way through the crowd. Nothing completely unusual, but enough that Khufu looked passed the hood to see what he could see. The man’s skin was pale, far too pale to be from Egypt.
The last thing he wanted was to cause some sort of commotion or wreck the ceremony, but there was something off about this stranger that was making his approach to the edge of the crowd where Hatshepsut walked.
He moved from his spot, no other guard seemed to have noticed this stranger, and he weaved his way through the crowds himself, heart racing as he hoped that he would be able to make a move before this man got any where near the young woman who would soon be crowned as their royal leader.
He spotted a dagger in that man’s hand, just barely visible hidden by his side and he really hurried then, not caring who he shoved in order to get to the man. There would be no assassinations on his watch. He moved quickly forward, and the man spotted him, seeming like he was going to make a mad dash for his target through the rest of the crowd. Khufu managed to swing his polearm back, and bring it heavily down between the man’s shoulder blade. He fell to the ground, dagger clattering on the ground as he dropped it.
Khufu moved to step on the man’s back and hold him to the ground as finally the other guards noticed the goings on and made their way through the crowd to come and gather the man.
As he stood there, he realized he was right near the family of the kids who had run off, and for the most part he was being stared at. He gave them all a smile, feeling a bit awkward about being stared at.
“Hope you’re enjoying the ceremony.” He said, as if he wasn’t currently stepping on a would-be assassin right in front of the family.
Khufu of course was in attendance of the ceremony, though not of willing choice. He was there as duty called, as a soldier he had been chosen for guard duty as extra force was needed for the sheer number of people that were in attendance. In case something happened, they wanted to be sure that there would be an appropriate number of trained men to control it.
And so he stood there, in formal dress armour that was really more for show than practicality, eyes scanning the crowds of nobles who were lucky enough to be closer to the ceremony itself. He held his polearm in one hand, his favoured weapon, and one he was impressive with. He of course had a sword at his side, if things needed to get deadly, but the imposing staff ought to be enough to deter anyone who thought they could try him, without having to cause major injury for the most part.
So far not much had gone on, at least nothing that particularly concerned Khufu. There were some kids running around, which he kept an eye on, but a woman who seemed to be their mother took care of that quickly and once again things settled. Aside from the scramble to find the priest who was supposed to commence the ceremony. He groaned internally, this wasn’t what he wanted, for this day to drag out longer than it needed to.
As the soon to be Queen started her journey to her title, Khufu perked up, his senses going into overdrive as he watched for any issues. Someone caught his eye, a man with a hood who was trying to make his way through the crowd. Nothing completely unusual, but enough that Khufu looked passed the hood to see what he could see. The man’s skin was pale, far too pale to be from Egypt.
The last thing he wanted was to cause some sort of commotion or wreck the ceremony, but there was something off about this stranger that was making his approach to the edge of the crowd where Hatshepsut walked.
He moved from his spot, no other guard seemed to have noticed this stranger, and he weaved his way through the crowds himself, heart racing as he hoped that he would be able to make a move before this man got any where near the young woman who would soon be crowned as their royal leader.
He spotted a dagger in that man’s hand, just barely visible hidden by his side and he really hurried then, not caring who he shoved in order to get to the man. There would be no assassinations on his watch. He moved quickly forward, and the man spotted him, seeming like he was going to make a mad dash for his target through the rest of the crowd. Khufu managed to swing his polearm back, and bring it heavily down between the man’s shoulder blade. He fell to the ground, dagger clattering on the ground as he dropped it.
Khufu moved to step on the man’s back and hold him to the ground as finally the other guards noticed the goings on and made their way through the crowd to come and gather the man.
As he stood there, he realized he was right near the family of the kids who had run off, and for the most part he was being stared at. He gave them all a smile, feeling a bit awkward about being stared at.
“Hope you’re enjoying the ceremony.” He said, as if he wasn’t currently stepping on a would-be assassin right in front of the family.
As Hena shifted restlessly next to her and complained about his thirst, Nia laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. “I am, too,” she murmured, gently squeezing the shoulder she held. “Hopefully, it shouldn’t be too much longer. No doubt there will be some grand feast when this is over, and we can eat and drink then.” Playfully ruffling his curls, she smiled. At least, she hoped there would be. Surely, some elaborate celebration would be in the plans following a Queen’s coronation. If not, well, maybe she actually would have been happier simply going home. “Hush, now, before we get yelled at again.”
A lot of things seemed to happen at once after that, between the girl falling practically into her father’s lap, the opening chords announcing the beginning of the ceremony, the youthful soon-to-be Queen’s appearance, and yet another commotion following right after. It all happened so quickly that the young noblewoman couldn’t seem to follow what was going on, head whipping back and forth between all the different happenings, but the end result was a dagger clattering at her feet and blood pooling in the space around it.
Wide-eyed and on the verge of a scream, Nia took a tighter hold of her brother and pulled him back, glancing between the still man on the floor and another who stood in front of them, apparently responsible for whatever had just happened. “What in all the gods’ names is going on?” she did manage to shout, her father pushing the rest of his children back to stand defensively in front of them.
What is the meaning of this? he angrily asked the man in front of them, Nia’s eyes going even wider as they flicked between her father and the armed stranger. Spilling blood at the Queen’s coronation?!
“Father,” she whispered, her voice almost desperate as she tugged his sleeve and gingerly kicked away the dagger at her feet. “I think that man was trying to hurt her.” She nodded down to the pale man lying prostrate on the floor. She then indicated the stranger. “We ought to be thanking him, I think.”
If the girl with the braids falling into the midst of the standing nobles didn’t draw attention, this was certain to, a myriad of guards rushing to their aid—only to find the problem already solved. Arm wrapped protectively around Hena, she pulled him with her and slid further behind her parents and peeked curiously around her father’s shoulder.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As Hena shifted restlessly next to her and complained about his thirst, Nia laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. “I am, too,” she murmured, gently squeezing the shoulder she held. “Hopefully, it shouldn’t be too much longer. No doubt there will be some grand feast when this is over, and we can eat and drink then.” Playfully ruffling his curls, she smiled. At least, she hoped there would be. Surely, some elaborate celebration would be in the plans following a Queen’s coronation. If not, well, maybe she actually would have been happier simply going home. “Hush, now, before we get yelled at again.”
A lot of things seemed to happen at once after that, between the girl falling practically into her father’s lap, the opening chords announcing the beginning of the ceremony, the youthful soon-to-be Queen’s appearance, and yet another commotion following right after. It all happened so quickly that the young noblewoman couldn’t seem to follow what was going on, head whipping back and forth between all the different happenings, but the end result was a dagger clattering at her feet and blood pooling in the space around it.
Wide-eyed and on the verge of a scream, Nia took a tighter hold of her brother and pulled him back, glancing between the still man on the floor and another who stood in front of them, apparently responsible for whatever had just happened. “What in all the gods’ names is going on?” she did manage to shout, her father pushing the rest of his children back to stand defensively in front of them.
What is the meaning of this? he angrily asked the man in front of them, Nia’s eyes going even wider as they flicked between her father and the armed stranger. Spilling blood at the Queen’s coronation?!
“Father,” she whispered, her voice almost desperate as she tugged his sleeve and gingerly kicked away the dagger at her feet. “I think that man was trying to hurt her.” She nodded down to the pale man lying prostrate on the floor. She then indicated the stranger. “We ought to be thanking him, I think.”
If the girl with the braids falling into the midst of the standing nobles didn’t draw attention, this was certain to, a myriad of guards rushing to their aid—only to find the problem already solved. Arm wrapped protectively around Hena, she pulled him with her and slid further behind her parents and peeked curiously around her father’s shoulder.
As Hena shifted restlessly next to her and complained about his thirst, Nia laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. “I am, too,” she murmured, gently squeezing the shoulder she held. “Hopefully, it shouldn’t be too much longer. No doubt there will be some grand feast when this is over, and we can eat and drink then.” Playfully ruffling his curls, she smiled. At least, she hoped there would be. Surely, some elaborate celebration would be in the plans following a Queen’s coronation. If not, well, maybe she actually would have been happier simply going home. “Hush, now, before we get yelled at again.”
A lot of things seemed to happen at once after that, between the girl falling practically into her father’s lap, the opening chords announcing the beginning of the ceremony, the youthful soon-to-be Queen’s appearance, and yet another commotion following right after. It all happened so quickly that the young noblewoman couldn’t seem to follow what was going on, head whipping back and forth between all the different happenings, but the end result was a dagger clattering at her feet and blood pooling in the space around it.
Wide-eyed and on the verge of a scream, Nia took a tighter hold of her brother and pulled him back, glancing between the still man on the floor and another who stood in front of them, apparently responsible for whatever had just happened. “What in all the gods’ names is going on?” she did manage to shout, her father pushing the rest of his children back to stand defensively in front of them.
What is the meaning of this? he angrily asked the man in front of them, Nia’s eyes going even wider as they flicked between her father and the armed stranger. Spilling blood at the Queen’s coronation?!
“Father,” she whispered, her voice almost desperate as she tugged his sleeve and gingerly kicked away the dagger at her feet. “I think that man was trying to hurt her.” She nodded down to the pale man lying prostrate on the floor. She then indicated the stranger. “We ought to be thanking him, I think.”
If the girl with the braids falling into the midst of the standing nobles didn’t draw attention, this was certain to, a myriad of guards rushing to their aid—only to find the problem already solved. Arm wrapped protectively around Hena, she pulled him with her and slid further behind her parents and peeked curiously around her father’s shoulder.