Lion Head Mesa dawn's child

"your brother has gone."
ramesses stood alone atop the mesa with @Makono. he did not look at her. "he said nothing. i have asked. and he took no one with him."
his jaw tensed. "so we must infer he has gone into exile. either he has gone to gather an army and move against akashingo, or he will come back to become what he was made."
ramesses said nothing more. the moon was growing now, and he watched it unblinkingly bloom a thousand miles away.

she could blame herself, perhaps she even should.

only she could do no such thing. a challenge had risen before him and he bowed away. she had loved him, she had treasured him.

now she could only think of a scorpion. a dangerous pest, scuttling along the desert.

i cannot welcome him with the same love, if he returns — if he does not agree.

she was miserable and sick to say it. it showed in the paling of her features, the downcast turn of her gaze. some part of her yearned to cry. to mourn him.

another part accepted what he had done to himself, more than what she may have done to him.

a son in self-imposed exile. a daughter to follow him on the throne. ramesses was weary of how things had changed in his world, and yet resigned not to stand in their way.
"do not receive him with love. receive him with the respect he merits as a prince of this kingdom."
there was a pause.
"the work of emissary falls wholly to you, as the young hawk-in-the-nest."
akhtar's words reverberated in his mind. "and your heirs must still be divine." he thought of sethnakht, still shy and unformed in personality. 
but a year could bring a good deal of change. "you are now responsible for the maintenance of your mother's tomb. and as crown prince, you must return to mereo in the future for a soldier's training. you will be gone often and akashingo will become unfamiliar. the alliances you make and enforce mean more opportunities for your siblings to marry well and for tribute to be established."
"if there is a battle, you will attend, which means that you must familiarize yourself with the best routes."
"in the new year you and i will go on procession to the sea, to ask Osiris for the health of your future reign. and when i die, makono, you will take the scarlet throne."

exile — and yet still he was granted the title of prince of this kingdom.

she supposed it came with the blood. but it was all he would receive from her. she could give no more, no less.

it pained her for them to split like this.

but there was work to be done. she was spoken to as she had desired for so long. crown prince her father spoke and this time it was not about siptah. not even of her younger brother.

i would not like to wait on these tasks. she told him plainly. tired, faraway. things she could not convey.

she imagined the return to mereo.

she imagined the visit to the sea.

she imagined herself upon the scarlett throne.

she sucked in a deep breath of air. pulled herself upright in full. an iron spine, eyes once more cool lapis. life would go on, as she has dreamed of it. only with certain details tweaked.

i should learn a soldier's training above all, if i am to be away from home so much. then i can begin our series of emissary work. the valley still waits.

she did not speak of the time beyond her father.

"very well. i expect that germanicus will be visiting soon as he did not attend the weddings." an edge there, one of minute irritation at the continued disrespect of the roman and his soldiers living in the mountains upon the good grace of pharaoh.
he was pleased by makono's ambition.
he was frightened by it. 
and this he would take into his own tomb, the fact that this hour he stood beside his hardly-grown princess and feared the power already in her grasp.
"he will escort you back." ramesses thought perhaps he and treva would take a true trip for their wedding, down the river to a place of green and exquisite blooms.
a time unspoiled by the righteous warring of his growing brood.
"what are your plans for your maidservant?" he inquired, accepting makono's plotting by offering it no question.

germanicus escorting her back.

such a thought. she wondered how his soldiers would fair, if she departed from the outpost with him in tow. which one of the eagle's soldiers came after him?

do you call my lilac a maidservant now? she could think of no one else for the title to go to, so she carried on. i'd like to take her with me. wherever i go, on my emissary trips as crown prince.

she had other faces she would have enjoyed toting along. the we'eb, the mazoi man.

she did not speak their names yet, but there was a thoughtful and brewing look upon her face.

"she is a maid and she is a servant," ramesses retorted dryly. but perhaps if makono looked closer toward her divine father, she might see the relief around his eyes, a relaxing of a tightened expression. he had missed their easier discourses. he had missed how she looked to him for knowledge, and he had lain sick all those weeks to think he had lost her truly.
"it is good you will give her an education and travel. she should gather her own skills to be of greater use as a courtesan. i had intended for you to give her to siptah, as a show of goodwill." he spoke idly of the girl as if she was no more than an object; lilac. that is what makono had said.
"now i think you should prepare to cultivate her as the greatest jewel in your diadem, my daughter."
she is not your sister. she is not your friend. she is your servant.
ramesses would not seek to part them, but the time would come for makono to establish herself as pharaoh. and only pharaoh could lift a fellahin from bondage.

give her to siptah.

there was a thin, fault line in her heart to hear it. her lilac had not been tended to only to be given away to one who didn't deserve her!

he had not even seen the work of an emissary, and father had thought him fitting of her treasure.

siptah would have wasted her potential. she spoke dryly now, once more. she is a treasure already. my treasure. she will be the perfect jewel by the time i see the throne. after your long reign.

"do not forget she is a fellahin, and that many a servant has killed her mistress, even with love shared between them from the cradle." his eyes turned to her own; for a moment lapis vied against lazuli. his lips tipped in a sardonic smile. "siptah had not even seen his own. do not write him off so quickly, iry-pat. he may return. and you must be prepared."
did he sense haughtiness in makono now that her crown was assured? he did not like this; he would not allow it. 
he must work without enmity between them.
"look, makono." ramesses moved across the great red ceiling of the palace and gestured to the expanse of the meadow fairspell. "that land is our eastern gate. mereo guards the travel-routes and trade-ways of the mountains. but i think it would be best to secure the meadow as well."
pharaoh's silence invited her word.

she heard it. she lingered on it and while she understood it, she did not have to like it.

if siptah returned, she would not make it easy. to carve her way here had not been easy. she only hoped he would be prepared when his face returned. if.

iry-pat.

was she intended to bring that news where she went? when she returned to germanicus' doorsteps would he hear her title?

her thoughts were turned to the plot of land. untouched beyond their own hunters. her father spoke of security.

it sounds like you speak of another outpost, pharaoh. one closer to home. she mused in a soft hum. i could figure names, if you have none on your mind.

"since before you were born," pharaoh snorted. not quite a laugh; he was not ready for such. he still did not like what had come to his lands, and he was not sure how he might hold order while the young hawk at his side spread her golden wings and flew boldly toward the sun.
"tell me what is in your mind," ramesses said, and he set his eyes upon the land long coveted.
would he have it at last?

oops all dialogue!

we have an outpost of soldiers. she mused, low for a moment as she examined the expanse. easy land to live upon. the struggles of the mountain did not exist in the meadow. they did not need to send their hardiest to claim a place so close.

naturalist, healers, hunters. they might flourish there. neb gucci is without a wife, but children. if he is not scheduled to be re-married here, why not speak to him of the meadow? send the grief stricken mazoi with him. perhaps the fresh air and light will liven her again.

love it!

ramesses was still. it was a fine idea, and yet he was unsure gucci would take to it well. but such was the game of senet which he had taught makono to play, not only with stones but with words. 
"perhaps we will build him a home there, he and the mazoi. you might speak with him. his children appear to be in the care of the sesh often." and the sanpin.
"he may wish to spend the winter in the palace and see them grow older before his choice is made." pharaoh rolled his shoulders. "take sayf, for he is an architect. measure the length of the meadow; gain its miles. then bring such to the neb."
another task; another rolled parchment tossed upon her proverbial and overflowing table, and she would have to find where to sort it into her schedule.

another task.

this one with the supervision of sayf. she could square it away before she departed to mereo. perhaps even do so on her trip.

when i go it will be with the title of iry-pat. the eagle will hear this so he might understand the extent of training i need. she drew a long breath. tell me how long i am allowed to train in mereo before returning with him.

"you did not send me a message last time you went," he softly accused, though his eyes were not angered. "do so this time, when you have reached mereo and decided how long you will be there."
as pharaoh he could recall makono at any time. he would leave as much choice to her as necessary. "i trained with my father's captain for a year. it was easier then, however, for he lived much closer."
his eyes moved to her thoughtful face. "the eagle. are you fond of him then, the imperator?"

she had not.

perhaps it had not dawned on her until this moment, too enamored in the wonderfulness of an outside world. younger, even if only by a touch. she had only just then begun to understand all of her own desires!

now she knew how to play court, what things were truly expected and demanded of her.

he has given me no reason to dislike him. he welcomed me and my fellahin. he taught me the tongue of latin. she would be able to use it once more with more reason in the place of soldiers. a rift had kept her from practicing with her father. i met his wife, the domina. she told me tales of times before me.

but her eyes turned full on to her father pharaoh now.

tell me what you think of the eagle, as pharaoh.

ramesses was quiet. "and did he welcome you warmly and teach you latin from his heart's goodness, daughter?" but he did not mean for her to answer.
"i think he is a man willing to do cruel things for his own success." he thought of belen, traded directly into the court for tamar and left to assume her debt.
"and he is still a man. not divine. fallible."

how could she say?

what was the difference between diplomacy and kindness? germanicus could have let her drown in the heat of mereo.

but perhaps that too was not a kindness, merely the knowledge that pharaoh would have his head if she did not return in good spirits.

there have been many like him in history.

men. lacking divinity and easy to make mistakes.

i have manners to attend to, father.

she dared to address him as she once had, momentarily shedding titles of royalty in favor of repairing the heartbreak between them.

and ramesses gazed at her; self-same as him, self-assured; his eyes at last softened and he pulled her forward for the briefest of embraces. "breaking with Ma'at was not my choice. but Ma'at changed for you, daughter. so let it be written."
he accepted, and now he relented, releasing makono and indicating that she was free to leave. 
pharaoh would not watch the girl as she left; he would turn his eyes back to the sunlit field and commune a long while with Amun.

let it be written. she echoed softly in the crook of his gold fur.

she had missed it. the warmth. the echoing chasm had not been her choice, but it had been made. now it would need a plenty of time to be worked upon.

but at the very least she knew they understood each other in that conversation. a moment to cherish.

she moved away at a clip.