Pharaoh: *Tensely* My Name.
Nubia: Excuse me, my Pha-
Pharaoh: Nubia… There is only us here. Please...say it? Say my name, like you used to back then.
Nubia: ...Amen…
*The Pharaoh, Amen, relaxed a little, a fond smile crossing his face. It had been so long since he had heard his name, since he had become the ruler of his nation. He had...missed it.*
Amen: Good. When we are alone like this, use it. I don’t need to give you permission for something like that.
Nubia: Yes my… yes, Amen. I’ll try to remember that.
*A small smile graced her lips as the small boy in her arms finally decided to open his bright eyes and stared up at her.*
….
Nkosi: Nubia…’M still sleepy…
*Reclining slightly in the bed, the Pharaoh watched how his childhood friend turned companion and bodyguard interacted with his drowsy sibling. The way she held him, cradling him in her arms with a fondly soft expression on her face, like a mother with a child, never failed to blanket his heart in warmth. Nubia was often stoic in public, as her position required in order to be taken seriously. It was only at times like these that Amen could truly see her content, maternal side. The gentle side to her nature that only he and Nkosi had the privilege to see.
However, he quickly caught himself as he felt the equally gentle and fond smile crossing his own lips, mentally shaking away those thoughts. It was certainly not something he should be focusing on at this moment in time, perhaps not even at all, given their entire situation.
Wrenching his thoughts back to the moment, he watched as Nubia adjusted her hold on Nkosi as she began to coax him awake*
Nubia: Well, my prince, that won’t do! We need you to be prepared. After all, we set out this evening on your quest and this will be the last time you will see A- the Pharaoh for some time. Do you not wish to spend time with him before we leave?
*Whatever tiredness remained in the small child seemed to evaporate the moment her words registered. Wide awake now, Nkosi squiermed, almost toppled from the guard’s arms in his haste to get to his brother. It was only thanks to Nubia’s quick reflexes that she managed to place him gently to the floor without incident before he was off faster than a desert jackal towards his brother, scrambling onto the bed and launching himself into the young king’s chest.*
Nkosi: My brother, I’m sorry! I’ve already wasted precious time! My fault must be corrected! Forgive me!!!
*That Nkosi thought Amen could ever truly be angry at his younger brother for spending an extra few minutes in bed, especially when it certainly wouldn’t have made either of them late for any important functions, made Amen shake his head fondly. Really, Nkosi got so serious about such things. He couldn’t help but wonder where he got such a notion from. Certainly not Amen himself, surely? Even so, he couldn’t help but feel it was somewhat endearing.*
Amen: *Soft Chuckle* It’s fine, tru-
Nkosi: No! I wasted your time, brother! This action must be punished!
* With that, the boy bowed his head low, eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched on his knees, as if awaiting an executioner's ax, or at the least a physical strike. Good grief...his brother certainly knew how to expect the worst for such a minor slight. Then again, his brother always did have a unique way of looking at things.
Over Nkosi’s head, he gave Nubia an almost playfully exasperated look, to which Nubia herself only shook her head in response from where she had been placing fresh clothes for her young charge on a stool. She, too, it would seem, was used to the child’s penchant for the dramatic.
Even so, he couldn’t simply remain silent, as Nkosi would think he had truly managed to anger the usually placid monarch, but there was no way that Amen would actually punish his brother for such a minor slight that was barely a slight at all. Unfortunately if he didn’t give him some kind of ‘punishment’, then Nkosi might actually go out of his way to give himself a far worse and entirely unfitting retaliation. Better to nip it in the bud before his brother got ahead of himself*
Amen: *Exaggerated Sigh* Very well. Then for ‘wasting my time, I order you to help prepare our bath for the morning. We are running late and the extra hands would help to cut down on the time it would take to fill. Fitting penance, wouldn’t you agree?
Nkosi: ...OK, If it pleases you, great brother!
Amen: Indeed it does.
*From over Nkosi’s head, Amen could see Nubia raise a somewhat amused eyebrow at his solution, even as she went about lighting the lamps to provide the tent with more light, chasing away the remaining shadows of pre-dawn that lingered in the tent. With the glow of the lamps he could now clearly see that, rather than her more battle-oriented clothing, Nubia was dressed in a simple linen dress adorned with sparse beading and simple jewelry. While it certainly didn’t detract from her appearance, the simplicity didn’t do her justice, considering her status...Honestly, it should be more elaborate, on par with the clothing his so called wife candidates had been adorned in. However, for the tasks at hand, he supposed it was far more fitting. After all, she would be away from the ‘palace’ for a while, so there was no real need to draw such attention to herself, especially if she was hoping for their journey to be somewhat subtle.
Pulling his attention away from Nubia as she worked, Amen slipped from the bed, brother in arms as they made their way towards the temporary baths, pausing only to inform the servants of the ‘punishment’ that would require his brother to work with them. It seemed that they caught onto what he didn’t say (which thankfully went over Nkosi’s head) that this was barely a real punishment. As such, while Nkosi did his best with the smaller bucket, the servants still did the majority of the work, casting secret smiles at each other and obviously trying not to titter amongst themselves at Nkosi’s determined expression any time he waddled with a full child-size bucket.
Eventually, the baths were prepared for use, both for the Pharaoh himself, and for Nkosi. While Amen lost track of Nkosi while he himself was aided - as the so called ‘incarnated god’ that all Pharaoh’s were, it would certainly do no good to seem less than impeccable in appearance to his subjects - he did overhear his younger brother fussing. Something about not wanting the help of the attendants, only Nubia’s help. Of course, he soon heard Nubia’s voice scolding him, but, to his amusement, it seemed that even she wasn’t fully immune to his brother’s charm and, from the burbling yelp of water over the boy’s head, she had given in and was bathing the child.
At the very least, Nkosi didn’t complain further, though that might have been to avoid getting bath water in his mouth.
Once the initial wash was done, Nubia brought Nkosi to the Pharaoh, who helped the boy into his water for a last soak before turning to Nubia, ready to teasingly ask if she had quietened his brother by washing his mouth with soap, only to pause as he realised that the linen dress she wore was wet from whatever had happened with Nkosi and practically clung to her, near transparent.
The joke died on his lips. Or perhaps it evaporated from his own fluster as he quickly dropped his gaze to preserve her modesty, clearing his throat slightly - a movement that Nkosi certainly seemed to pay an inordinate amount of interest to. Whether Nubia noticed, however, or was simply ignoring Amen’s odd bout of silence, the Pharaoh couldn’t say. Either way, she made no note to acknowledge the behaviours of the brothers as she bowed before absconding to change into dry clothing.
Not that any of that gave Amen reprieve from Nkosi’s searching eyes. He wasn’t just looking at Amen’s face, he was practically staring, squinting in a way one might look for a specific detail on a map that would otherwise be missed. It took all his experience dealing with the snake-pit that was court not to blush under his scrutiny. Finally, the boy tilted his head, raising an almost skeptical eyebrow that might have looked comical on a child if it hadn’t been directed at him. It was obvious that he must have seen something.
Then again, this was Nkosi. He might have been too young to grasp all the subtleties of what he saw, but he was certainly as wise as any high priest when noting things that were not quite right.
Finally, it seemed he gave up trying to work out what was wrong on his own. His gaze turned from questing to near interrogatory.*
Nkosi: Big brother...you don’t like Nubia? You keep not looking at her... Did she do something wrong?
*Oh dear, he certainly had come up with the wrong conclusion*
Amen: No, that’s not it. I was merely thinking….Ah, please, don’t worry yourself, little brother. It’s not appropriate you discuss such things at your age.
*And now he could see that even Nubia looked confused from where she was standing watch. Oh dear.
Hopefully, Nubia hadn’t returned to stand guard duty during the time that Nkosi accused him of dislinking her. From the expression she likely only really heard his response, or at least part of it, otherwise her expression wouldn’t have been bemusement.
Speaking of her return, it seemed that the dry clothing she had chosen was her full armour, the kind she seemed almost at home in, even to the point that Amen hadn’t heard when she had taken up her post by the door. Perhaps, then, she had changed her mind about the method she and Nkosi would be traveling? Whichever it was, it was up to her and Nkosi, not Amen.
At the very least, it seemed his distraction at having spotted Nubia had also distracted his brother as well, who quickly decided to rejoin the woman. Wrapped up in towels, he pattered to her side and was quickly bundled into her arms, snuggling against her bosom.
No longer under scrutiny, the Pharaoh stepped out of the water and was wrapped in towels. While a servant carefully dried and detangled his hair, Amen, once his skin was no longer damp, slipped into a robe before taking the wine another servent offered and taking a long draught-*
Nkosi: *Innocently* Nubia, big brother was thinking inappropriate things about you. What does that mean?
*-Only to regret it after hearing that!
A moment later there was a yelp of panic from the servant who gave the wine when Amen half choked himself after somehow both near inhaling and spraying the mouthful across the room*
Amen: No! Nkosi, no! Don’t say it like that!
*Other than the one servant that was far more relieved that they didn't somehow killed the Pharaoh with wine, the other servants snickered, whispering amongst themselves at the private show they were lucky enough to witness. It was moments like this that illustrated that the ‘god on earth’ was also a mortal man. It was good to see every once in a while.
Of course, it was equally as amusing to see a mortal somehow being the more regal one of the two as the guard in question merely raised her eyebrow*
Nubia: *Deadpan* While I appreciate the sentiment, I believe you should think about your position, my Pharaoh. In addition, the young prince and I shall be venturing into your kingdom to locate a bride for you.
Amen: I said it’s not like that!
Nubia: Mmm hmm…
Amen: Nubia!
*Her expression remain just as dry as before. How was it that her looking at him like that made him wilt faster than a rose in the desert at high noon when he could outwait any noble, scribe or priest in court? Shifting uncomfortably, he surrendered*
Amen: *Flustered* I was...thinking you looked….um...better in more elaborate clothing...nothing more.
Nubia: *Muttered* And I am queen of Sheba *Clearing throat* Now, if we are done here, my Pharaoh, shall we head off? We are quite being schedule and you are to be entertaining the three candidates, are you not?
Nkosi: *Confused* ...Did I say something wrong?
Nubia & Amen: No! It’s just-
Nubia: *Flat Look* …
Amen: *Facepalm* Let us return...we have a busy day today.
Nubia: *Soft Chuckle* You would do well to correct your expression before we reach your room, my Pharaoh.
Amen: *Dryly* Oh, yippee...Does that work? Do I look happy yet?
Nkosi: Nope! You should look angry instead and tell the crocodiles to go back to the Nile instead!
*He drew himself up and began to walk and point in an exaggerated manner, as if talking to the candidates, though with far more pomp than Amen had ever used*
Nkosi: “You should all go to the dungeons for crimes of being mean and ugly and stupid! Until you are no longer mean, ugly and stupid you will have to...to...clean up all the camel dung with your hands! And when you’re really really sorry for being a doodoo head, you can go far far away and never make yucky kissy faces at me again”
*Oh, but if it wasn’t hard to burst out laughing at what expression that might conjure up on the faces of the candidates, if not the court itself! Trying not to fall into giggles, the two tried to be responsible adults and isuade the notion, no matter how funny the reactions might have been*
Nubia: Now now, we shouldn’t go that far, oh great one. Actions such as that would seem tyrannical. It may cause civil war, unnecessary deaths, the occasional revolt and that good rot.
Nkosi: *Almost Disappointed* Oh...Pewey.
Amen: Welcome to the joys of politics. Even so, imagining the looks on their faces if I said something like that. ‘Doo doo heads’...You’re a gem, Nkosi. Never change.
Nkosi: *Head tilt* Huh? What do you mean?
….
*For a moment, as the story ended, there was silence on either end of the phone, a strange kind of tension for a reaction just waiting to happen*
Huxian: ….
Rodessa: …..
Huxian: Pft!
Rodessa: I know, right? Too cute, on both ends. There’s a lot more the pharaoh writes about in these files, like how Nkosi was in tears, clinging to his brother when they had to leave but ‘heroically’ gave the three suitors a lecture about not tainting his brother with their sin while he was away. Or his grumpiness as Nkosi and Nubia made camp in the wilderness and how he had to dress like a ‘poor man’ for the first time, all the while Nubia teaching him the way of the people to broaden his horizons of the kingdom.
He says that the young prince would often draw the places he visited, documenting things that the Pharaoh should look into, such as any instances of poverty and overindulgence in the land that otherwise might not have reached him.
Huxian: Smart kid.
Rodessa: I know, right? Wise for his age. I guess that’s why those two were drawn to him...Hmm.
Huxian: What are you thinking about?
Rodessa: ...If we had kids, what would they be like?
Huxian: Oh? Wanting my kids? My dear, you haven’t even bought me dinner first!
Rodessa: EEP! W-wait! No! That’s not what I mean! I! Um!
Huxian: *Soft Chuckle* I’m joking.
*Taking a deep breath, he gave the question a little more serious thought. Finally, he responded quietly*
Huxian: Well...I don’t know the future...but...if you were to have a child, I can imagine that, while they’re still young, they would be innocent, bright eyed, smart and strong like their mother with an indomitable spirit. It wouldn’t truly be your child if it wasn’t at least that.
*His tone quietened a little more*
Huxian: As for me...If I were to have a child...Well...I don’t know. I’d at least want them to always cherish what’s important to them, and never let anyone or anything let it go. Of course, I’d like them to have a sense of humour and adventure, to never feel trapped, to face anything that comes their way bright eyed and bushy tailed. That’s what I think.
Rodessa: *Scoff, Chuckle* The way you talk, it’s like you’ve been thinking about my future kids for a while? Planning on having your wicked way with an innocent?
Huxian: Me? No. Besides, you’re far too tainted to be called an innocent, no? I’ve seen your list.
Rodessa: I’m still pure! Pure as the driven...uh...driven snow...that’s been stepped on a few times…
Huxian: Sure, sure, and I’m the king of France.
Rodessa: HUE!!!
Huxian: *Laugh* Hey, tell me another one...one more, before my morning meal arrives?
Rodessa: *Mutter* Jerk…Fine. One more.
[END]
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