The Morning and the Evening Star

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of The Mummy, so don't sue me, alright?

 

Summary: This is a little interlude w/Evy and 'past-life Rick.' Takes place before Ank and Imhotep murder Seti. Read, and then review.

 

Nefertiti gazed down on the palace courtyard from her spot on the balcony, her eyes distant. She felt like a caged bird in the Pharaoh's palace, and though she loved her father dearly, she wanted to leave and see the world. Her brown eyes were also sad, more like devastated. Her mother was dead. She felt as though nothing mattered anymore.

 

She had yet to defeat Anuck-Sun-Amun in battle, but she was glad her father had given her the honor of guarding the Bracelet of Anubis. She had seen the exchanged between Anuck-Sun-Amun and High Priest, Imhotep, showing the lust that the two obviously felt for one another, especially the one today. That tramp had yet to betray her father, Nefertiti knew. She suddenly felt his presence behind her. She turned.

 

"Kirocol, should you really be here?" she smiled. His blue eyes, rare to the Egyptian lands, wore that same devious smile in their depths that they wore whenever they were alone together. He was a sacred Mad-jai, so this would be forbidden, but Nefertiti would beckon him to meet with her secretly like this. She loved him.

 

"No," said he devilishly, walking closer. He looked into her eyes, as she reached out a hand to him. He took it, and turned to look over the city with her.

 

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Nefertiti said, reffering to the city.

 

"Yes, like you, my love." Kirocol said. Nefertiti smiled. She turned to face him, and their lips met in a passion. Nefertiti felt herself losing her composure in his arms, and pulled away.

 

"We cannot do this, Kirocol," she said. Her brown eyes showed her desire, but she knew that this was not the proper behaviour of a princess. It was enough that she met with him, but she could not loose herself. But, she could not bring her heart to bear not seeing him, so their meetings together went on like they always did.

 

"I know, my princess. Forgive my actions, please," he said. Nefertiti smiled at him, and caressed his face.

 

"You know I always would," she said. "I love you, Kirocol."

 

"We cannot go on like this," Kirocol said. "I am your protector. I am not supposed to be your lover, as well."

 

"You are right," Nefertiti said. "Gods! If only I could be free. Just for one night," Nefertiti said.

 

Kirocol said nothing. He wished the same. 'If only,' he thought angrilly. If only there were no rules. If only it were possible, but no, it could not be. He wanted to caress her, to kiss her, but it was not 'proper.' Curse the gods for fating him so horribly.

 

It was not that he did not want to serve the Pharaoh. He was honored by his position, but he could not touch her. Ever. He saw the desire every time in her eyes, and he knew it reflected in his, but they could never be together. He wasn't paying complete attention as Nefertiti caressed his wrist, tracing the lines of his sacred mark, but the slight sensations tingled.

 

"I love you, Kirocol," Nefertiti said, leaning agains his bare, muscular arm.

 

"I love you, too," he said. "But my princess, I must go. Shall I see you tomorrow?"

 

Nefertiti was about to confirm, but realized that she couldn't. She had to go to a feast in her honor for gaurding the Bracelet. Stupid feast. But Kirocol might be there, since Pharaoh, and she, too, would need the guards. Kirocol might be one of them. She smiled. That would be nice. "No," she said. "At least, not here." Kirocol smiled. He knew what she meant. He caressed her arm again, kissed her hand, and then was gone. Nefertiti sighed, and leaned against the rail of her balcony.

 

She looked up, and suddenly noticed something that disturbed her. Imhotep and Anuck-Sun-Amun were speaking in the room across the courtyard. Something in their presence disturbed her. Then came something she had known was going to happen, but still surprised her. They kissed. Then, she heard her fathers voice, and Anuck-Sun-Amun and Imhotep were speaking urgently together. Imhotep ran away, leaving Anuck-Sun-Amun to deal with Pharaoh. What was going on?

 

 

It was then that she saw them murdering her father. "Mad-jai! My father needs you!" she cried desperately. She did not see Kirocol down there. Nefertiti teared as she saw her father dying right before her eyes. She was so startled and angry that she fell over the side of her balcony. She felt her self falling, until she felt his hands around her waist. Once she had been pulled up, she turned to see Kirocol. He nodded at her. It was too late to save her father, though he had saved her. Nefertiti burried her face in his chest, and wept.

 

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End. Like it? Hate it? Constructive criticism welcomed. Flames, however, will be doused as soon as possible.

 

 

 

The Morning and the Evening Star

 

Chapter Two

 

A/N: Ardeth now joins the story. Sorry, but I just can't get enough of him! Anyway, read and review.

 

Kirocol rocked Nefertiti's shaking form as she wept. He didn't try to shush her. Her parents, both parents, were gone, and she had all the right to cry. He had never known his parents, he dismally thought, and so had never really felt anything about them. He had been raised by his brother, who although only a few years older than himself, was wise beyond his age. All Kirocol had ever known was his sacred duty, and his brother's passive attitude, and how he had had to fend for himself a lot.

 

Nefertiti's body went slack in his arms, and he picked her up like a child in his arms, carrying her to her bed, and tucking her into the covers. He kissed her forehead, and she stirred a little. She had fallen asleep in his arms just on the short distance from the balcony to the bed. Kirocol walked to the door, took one final look on the lovely face of the sleeping princess, now the queen, then silently slipped out, leaving her to rest.

 

Kirocol went to his chambers that he shared with his older brother, Ardeth. He sat on his bed, putting his head in his hands. He sighed. It was deffinitely different now. What would happen next? Where had that cursed High Priest gone? Oh, it was all too overwhelming. Kirocol looked up suddenly, as Ardeth walked in. He looked just as tired.

 

"Brother," Ardeth said sternly. "Where were you when you were supposed to be fulfilling your duty as a Mad-jai to the Pharaoh?" His dark eyes were almost angry. Kirocol knew his brother had the mind for his duty etched into him, like heiroglyphics on a wall, but he was too tired to make up and excuse.

 

"Fine, brother, you win. I was with her again. Sorry. Now can I please sleep?" Kirocol said. He was expecting an incensed outburst from his brother, but he only heard him sigh.

 

"Well, I suppose you'll never learn, Kirocol," Ardeth said. "But that's your problem. When you're executed, don't come crying to me. If you remember, I was always the voice of reason here."

 

"Yes, mother." Kirocol teased. Ardeth did not seem amused. He simply looked at him venemously. Usually he was quite pleasant, but the death of the king had everyone confused. Kirocol, who did not particularly care about what his brother said at the moment, lay down on his bed, and closed his eyes. His heart, brain, and eyes were all sore. It was most deffinitely time for a good rest, although it was already late. He soon drifted to sleep, dreaming of Nefertiti as he did.

 

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Nefertiti awoke late morning, with red eyes, and a sore throat. She did not feel well, but she climbed out of bed, but just as her bare feet reached the already warmed stones, she remembered what had happened, and wanted to go back to bed, but she knew that the people would be devestated at their king's death, and things would deffinitely be going on today. She wasn't exactly sure what kinds of things, but something would go down.

 

She bathed, and dressed, and then went down to the palace gardens. She walked among the flowers and fruit trees. She saw the children of father's wives and concubines chasing eachother around the paths and fountains, and couldn't help but smile at her half-brothers and half-sisters, although tears were rolling silently down her cheeks. She sat under a tree, in the shade, and simply watched them a while. She felt like crying and not stopping, but her tears were worn out. She simply was wracked with sobs.

 

She could almost hear her father's voice as he praised her after battle the day before. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. Damn them. Damn that High Priest and that uppity concubine. May the gods punish them severly in the afterlife. Nefertiti felt a hand on her shoulder. "Kirocol," she murmured. "Now is not the time or the place. There are people about."

 

"I wasn't thinking about that, love." Kirocol said. "I simply wanted to tell you what has happened. I'm sure you know that Anuck-Sun-Amun killed herself before we could. Now, they are putting her in a tomb. I assure you, the gods will pinish her in the afterlife. You needn't worry about that."

 

"It is not that I am worried about, Kirocol. What of Imhotep? Where has he gone. He must die. It was he who struck the first blow to father, and I want him punished justly." Nefertiti said, with more than just an edge of anger in her voice. It cut Kirocol's heart. When had his happy princess done anything to deserve this? It wasn't fair.

 

"I love you," he said, caressing her cheek. "But I have things to do, and will see you later."

 

"Tonight." Nefertiti said shortly. "Visit me tonight. There is much to talk about." She looked up into his eyes. His blue eyes were sad as they looked into hers. "I love you, too," she said softly, and kissed his hand. After that, Kirocol was gone, leaving Nefertiti to her thoughts and watching the happy children run around.

 

Nefertiti envied them. They had never even known their father. Most of them hadn't, anyway. Her mother had been the head wife, and had been in charge of all the other concubines and wives. Nefertiti was the heir to the throne. A thought hit her. "I am... I am queen," Nefertiti thought to herself. She hadn't really thought that that would happen. She always thought that she would have been princess forever. Whoever heard of a woman Pharaoh?

 

Why had she forgotten that her father would eventually die? Maybe she just thought that it wouldn't happen so soon. She was angry. Why had her father taken Anuck-Sun-Amun as a concubine, in the first place? Nefertiti had never trusted her, anyway. She spat on that name like a curse. She sighed. It was no use to be angry, she knew. Poise was everything, so she could be angry later. She didn't realize how long it had been, but she was beginning to feel hungry.

 

She went to the palace dining rooms, and had some midday dinner. She wasn't actually thinking that she would have been so hungry, but she was. She finished eating, and went back to her room, where she stood on her balcony, missing her dear father terribly.

 

 

 

 

~The Morning and the Evening Star~

 

Chapter Three

 

Nefertiti stood on her balcony, gazing over her beautiful city. She thought she almost heard muffled wails of lament after the king had died. She suddenly heard a knock on her door, and went to open it. She pulled open the door to see her father's advisor, Merenre.

 

"My queen," he said, a little uncomfortable, as he was not accoustomed to calling the princess 'queen' although that was what she was now. Wasn't it? "You have a coronation ceremony tonight. I was planning to tell you earlier, but the guard said you had left to go somewhere early this morning. Forgive me for the late notice and..." he paused, his eyes taking on a softened, thoughtful gaze, "I am sorry about your father."

 

"Aren't we all?" Nefertiti said dryly, and a little mournfully. "Thank you for informing me of this, Merenre. You are dismissed." She didn't know if that was the right thing to say. Her father had never told her. Well, he might have, but she probably wasn't paying attention. It seemed to be enough though, for Merenre bowed quickly, and scuttled away down the hall. He was a funny man, short and squat, with big, brown eyes, and he always looked nervous, and spoke as if he was. Nefertiti shook her head and smiled. Yes, Merenre was a kind, but odd man.

 

Nefertiti sat on a sofa in the corner of her room, and stretched out, closing her eyes. It was warm, and the smell of flowers and fruits was wafting up from the gardens, as was the fresh, clean scent of the desert wind. She felt a warm breeze on her skin, and was growing sleepy. She did not know when exactly she dosed off, but she did only shortly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was some time later when Nefertiti awoke, and the sky was dark. She hastily dressed for the ceremony, in rich, sandy-colored dress and lavish gold jewelry with jade and semiprecious stones in it. She framed her eyes with black khol and dyed her lips with cherry. She could hear the festivities of the pre-ceremony party in the courtyard, and below the floor of her bedroom in the Great Hall, but they were only half-hearted sounds of music, and very little laughter. She walked down the corridor outside her bedroom, and descended the staircase into the Great Hall, where everyone stopped their frolicking and looked at her in awe. Whispers went around the room, and the one she could distinctly hear was "she looks just like her mother."

 

She joined the crowd, after a descending of the stairs that seemed to take a million years, and walked up to her advisor. "Merenre," she asked quietly. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

 

"You're late." said he in response, rather irritably, "But that is alright. You will be presented in a few moments as the Queen of Lower Egypt. May she rein a thousand years, may the gods smile upon her... and all that." A gong sounded, and her father's scribe and most high advisor, Anpu, for Merenre wasn't the highest, although he was the kindest, went up and surveyed the crowd. "Scratch that, my queen," Merenre said very quietly. "You will be presented now."

 

"You have all heard, I am most sure," Anpu said in his great, booming voice, "Of our beloved Pharaoh's death. You all know, though, that his daughter, Nefertiti will replace him, and take her throne as queen. And, now, Queen Nefertiti of Lower Egypt!" He raised a hand to Nefertiti, and so she joined him in front of the crowd. "Follow my lead," he said through clenched teeth so only she could hear. He asked her a bunch of stupid questions that were part of the ceremony, did some chant, and whoopee-doo it was done.

 

She stood in front of her people, who were all bowing and praising her. Merenre was right. May she rein a thousand years, may the gods smile upon her. It was all part of the ceremony. But the most frightening part was that she had to govern all these people. After, she was allowed to mingle with the crowd, and she spoke to some very important court nobles, and scribes, and people that would interact with her everyday, or at least fairly often.

 

She saw the Mad-Jai guards stationed at various points in the room, and smiled brightly when she saw Kirocol. She did not approach him, though, because his brother had just entered, and was speaking urgently to him, their heads together secretively. She wondered at their actions, and was startled when Kirocols tan features paled with alarm. Her eyes were questioning, but Kirocol just smiled at her, before following his brother out of the room. Nefertiti was frightened. What was wrong?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Nefertiti was sitting on a bench under a tree outside, and it was very late. The stone bench was warm, still, with the sun, though it was even long after the party was finished, and everyone was gone, or in bed. Lotus blooms were everywhere around her, and they were crawling up the legs of the bench. She sighed. Suddenly, there was a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Kirocol.

 

"Kirocol!" she exclaimed. He looked grave, and he sat beside her, taking her in his arms. "What has happened?" Nefertiti asked him.

 

"We have killed, or rather, 'disposed of' Imhotep," Kirocol said. Nefertiti wondered at his words.

 

"What do you mean?" she asked.

 

"I know that it was without your permission, highness, but we placed the curse of the Hom-Dai upon the wretched bastard." Kirocol said. Nefertiti gasped.

 

"Gods!" she said. "The curse of the Hom-Dai? Are you out of your mind?" she asked. It was the worst of all the curses, and it had been one of her most hated fears since she was a child.

 

"We decided that he was the worst of blasphemors of the Pharaoh. He killed him!" Kirocol said. Nefertiti couldn't help but agree, but what if someone resurrected the horrible creature? What would happen then? Kirocol seemed to sense her thoughts, and so spoke again, "He won't be resurrected. We have buried him in the city of the dead, where no one would dare the god's anger by entering.

 

"You are right. But, I am queen," Nefertiti said. "What of that?"

 

"Well, what do you think of that?" Kirocol said, turning to her. Their eyes met, and Nefertiti knew exactly what she woud say, although it made no sense, on her part, to say it.

 

"I say: I have to take a husband, don't I? To," she paused, and kissed him briefly, sensually, leaving him wanting more, then pulled away, " produce heirs?" Kirocol knew what she was doing, and his eyebrows shot up.

 

"My queen, are you, uh," he gasped as Nefertiti kissed his neck, traveling about with her tongue, "uh, do this? I mean, uh, oh gods!" he said. Nefertiti giggled, and it tickled his skin as she kissed him. He didn't want to, but he pushed the aroused young woman off of himself, and sat up. "A moment, if you please." he said. "I know what your thinking, but it would be forbidden!"

 

"So?" Nefertiti asked. "Don't you love me?" she traced his abdominal muscles with tender fingers, making him tingle. Her hands travelled a bit lower. He pushed her away again.

 

"Highness, you really should wait for this. I will marry you, but we have to get married first. Can you imagine the scandal if we didn't before we did this?"

 

"No one has to know," Nefertiti shrugged.

 

"And no one would, but think of potential, uh, consequences." Kirocol hinted. A child might come of this crazy moment. That would certainly spark a scandal.

 

"Oh. I see," Nefertiti said, pouting. Oh, gods! Kirocol couldn't resist, so he leaned in, and made her happy. They kissed passionately, lips and tongues deuling in a aroused battle between letting go, and keeping sane. Kirocol, again, didn't want to, but pulled away, but did. He smiled, though.

 

"Tomorrow we will annonce it," he said.

 

"Together," Nefertiti added, smiling at him.

 

"Yes, together." Kirocol agreed. The public might not approve of this, but who cares? Kirocol and Nefertiti did. And the next day they were married. May they rule a thousand years, may the gods smile on them. Nefertiti, the morning, and Kirocol, the evening star.