Luneshale Pass arrival

the contraption made by @Eset held well all the way to the pass. no thing had ever been made of it’s like, and the truth of it was perhaps it never would be again. it would surely serve its intended purpose!
prior to their arrival, she called @Eset into the space with her as the carriers rested once again at her own demand. there was guilt in her heart at the work that they then did, and she daydreams already of rewarding them for this service. but Eset brings her mind to the then and the now; with sweet sap, and other creatures of the lowlands called in, feathers that matched her gaze framed her head like a crown. charcoal was swept to exaggerate her gaze, and perhaps it was luck as much as it was skill that her beauty truly was enhanced this day. in the shapes that had been discussed, her hindquarters were also decorated. crude though it was, those that knew them would understand—which was what mattered most.
again they moved through the lowlands. the Queen was well hidden by draped curtains of ivy and such—and as she arrived to the point that had been known to the Mazoi, a song announced her arrival. the Mazoi had been commanded not to part from their stations until she emerged—and the fellahin came to her to ensure she was ready to be seen by her people and her suitors alike. 
none would see her yet as the Mazoi settled and the fellahin fussed, not until they arrived; in the interim, she willed @Inji and @Tuna to prepare her path. all the while she thought of the spoken letters, her heartsong a beating thing and bursting within her chest.

Toula has arrived! All of Akashingo welcome!

Along Toula's side was the ever dutiful Inji, heeding every command; a flair of her own to her makeup to ensure she appears as divine as she ought to, water and meat and wine as she wished to keep her fed along their journey; and, of course, a path through the unknown well tended.
The saliva unconsciously dribbles from her chin as they course the lowlands, the last of summer's sting still felt greatly. But it was honest work, and if anything, it provided distraction. In truth, this event frightened her — it ate at her for weeks, months, the things that could unfold from this.
Pharaoh. Whoever would claim such title awaited them.
But this was her job; her calling, and so she does as asked. The fellahin do not have a place in politics.

The soft song of the Queen would have warmed any member of the palace's heart, stolen any from idle daydream; but Zaahira, in particular, found immense relief in it.
When the freedom to move from her post is granted, she is the first to rush to greet her and she is sure of it. Tail in a high, gentle sway, eyes alight with a soft flicker; Toula! Oh, how missed she was!
And the first thing the mazoi does upon watching the litter roll in from the horizon is arch downward in a bow. Malakti.
Oh, how much I have to tell you when I can get you alone.

Finished, were his travels. For now. 
When finally the Queen arrived to the lowlands, Thutmose set aside the camp he'd made to rest for these past days, and joined the procession to greet her. 
Standing before her, his figurement lowered in a bow. As all others did give.
Queen Toula, He hums softly in greeting. Days have passed and changed, but you have not. A vision of great beauty and pure of heart. I have long awaited the opportunity to have you in my sights once more. Even while knowing she was well in the sights of other vying men. But in this moment, he saw himself as the only.
Many letters had been sent, telling of what he'd seen. Yet still, he longed time to tell her again in greater detail. Just as he'd promised.

the young queen was safely delivered to their encampment. khusobek watched as thutmose made himself first to be greeted.

as mazoi, he stayed near the queen, imitating zaahira's bow. his ice-eyes watched for danger, but he was interested to know if the halls of white stone and spacious rooms that nahkt had found would be appealing to the royal one.

if she enjoyed the find, thutmose would have her regard, and likewise the attending mazoi. khusobek glanced now for rashepses or senmut.

One elbow and wrist curled under her body, and down in a similar arch, she'd put herself on an unsaid, instant command the moment the Queen's presence touched her sight. Her eyes were at a close, not daring to look royalty in the eyes, beside Khusobek. She'd found a semblance of a friend in Toula, but a Queen no less.

The tingling interests going over her skin were a riveting sense!

This would be interesting! Fun! Her Queen came! So many others Queen came. Men, ready to draw blood for her hand. For power.

She was a bystander in their game. Only audience.

Titles and honorifics prevail over the swelling fanfare and still Eset refuses to lift the palms that veil their ruler. Make them wait.

Nothing had been left to happenstance. This was an orchestrated performance carried out in grand fashion, choreographed down to every minute detail. She turns to the decorated sovereign, spellbound again by Toula’s attractiveness when their kohl-darkened eyes meet briefly amid the leaves of papyrus. But these are not efforts made to flaunt Toula’s beauty- they are to demonstrate her power.

Let none forget it.

She pulls back the canopies and bows while the Queen endows her new land.

at last toula had come. tavina abided the ceremony, the waiting; she looked at the fronds and the entourage, and understood with a feeling both sinking and relieved, that the young woman had come into her own.

and correct she was.

a smoky vision greeted the waiting subjects, her pale coat shimmered in gold-dust and markings around her hips, a headdress upon the proud crown, and her eyes, somehow darker.

toula proclaimed herself as queen and the ageing, proud nursemaid was happy to bow low before those royal feet, pride sparkling in winsome tears along purpled gaze.

O Lord he comin!

Finally the time had come. The Lord had awaited when the moment was right for their Queen to leave the red keep with a closeted impatience. 

They were on the move now, the Queen shaded from the harsh rays of the sun by her Fellahin. Palms guarding her from the view of others all the same, until the moment was right. The Neb followed in step, out to the side, an eagerness quivering in his limbs. His sunburst eyes darted about, looking for any signs of danger as the Fellahin worked hard to keep their Queen shielded and safe. 

They arrived to the pass where the majority of her people had gathered and awaited. Naberius regarded them all, sweeping a look over the masses and landing to Thutmose, who made his presence known swift and sure. 

Then the veil was pulled. The Queen stood before them in both power and beauty. Naberius smiles at the view of her as she comes out into the light of day. It is not a look of wanting from Naberius, but one more of a familial sort. She has been decorated with a readiness for all to view- clay and charcoal smeared into patterns about her flanks and face. Feathers tangled into her into her pale fur. 

Naberius looked back then to the crowd, to see the reactions deep in their features. Now her Mazoi bowed- her Sesh- her Hem and Hemet, now, her Neb, as one front limb folds to his chest and the other slides outward and his gaze fluttering to the ivory sandstone and scale which he stood. 

Akhtar had been thinking a dozen things lately. The place the princes had chosen was nice, but quaint. His mouth tasted like iron every time he looked at them, knowing exactly what they were here for.

Would they treasure the girl he had seen grow? Or would they stick her in a corner and leer at her like ruffians? All of this pomp and circumstance for some twigs and berries. Egos resting in running around like rutting bulls, playing a game of measurements, even if they didn’t call it that. Akhtar could not say he was impressed with any of them, and if he called upon Ra to give them sunburns upon their delicate places, well. He wasn’t going to speak such aloud.

Not that he didn’t, but who would ever know?

When her song rose over the land, Akhtar came as though tugged along by the nose, his high prance flowing him up from the caverns he rested in during the hotter parts of the day. His tail was a proud, fluttering banner as he came to stand beside Tavina, a smile tugging at his face. A vision, the girl he had watched grow up had become a woman before his very eyes. He swelled with pride, and though he did not particularly like the man beyond his musculature being something to drool over once, he wished Ramesses could be here to see this.

And, all at once, he looked at the princes and knew that none of them would ever live up to his standards. Even as his forehead met the ground, dipped low to his queen.

there were many things senmut did not expect to experience.

firstly, was that he was moved to see her chosen arriving, the mazoi moving to and fro — the glister of rich finery and the stirring movement of green palm-boughs, and he was transported to an earlier time. an easier time.

a young boy, feet stained with the rich dark earth of his father's tiny patch in upper aswan, watches as a priestess steps down from a palanquin. her feet scarcely touch the ground. for a moment, he sees the gold dangling from her lobes, the drape of silver spilling along her chest.

and it was that sensation held within his spirit when the curtains were thrown back and revealed toula, unapproachable and resplendent. feathers in brilliant hue crowned her head, a match for her eyes, lined carefully with a skill he knew belonged to eset. they intensified the natural kohling, lighting her gaze with an inner glow until they were as faience against his own —

senmut did not expect to find her beautiful, this creature who had changed from poised, kind girl to a luminous vision of divinity. both ramesses and makono shared this with toula, but her father had forged this in sin and her sister in ambition. she was set apart, gilded by her own goodness.

senmut did not expect to find emotionality lodged beneath his ribcage, a deep strike which threatened to knock all his breath away; a reaction to godhead made final flesh before him. the designs upon her body were magickal in origin, his priest's mind assumed, and he saw them as sigils of protection.

and senmut did not expect to comprehend upon her sight that he could indeed be pharaoh. that he wanted it. that her splendor and his worship could make of akashingo such a sight as would not be seen again in ten thousand years. that she had changed in these short weeks, and he as well, and reforged once more in newness of their shared quiet truths.

low, his bow, forehead touching the sand for a minute entire.

and then he raised his head, and offered a small smile. "the desert welcomes its queen. and i too welcome mine."

he did not dare to glance into those attentive eyes; he lowered himself, and when a moment had come, murmured quietly to @Eset, @Inji, and @Tuna of the rooms discovered by the mazoi, and sent to him by @Thutmose. yes, khusobek had included this detail, and so senmut, not wishing to take an advantage that was not his own, sent it along as well.

the trio of round spaces were as fine as anything that could be hewn from the side of a pass, large enough for her entourage and items, and he would set two guards there each night.

for now, senmut belonged entire to the blessed attention of their divine queen.

and yet! and still! some shuddering portion of him wished that he could marry the mazoi who stood just at hand, and disappear into the whirl of her shadowed arms from the entire crush of royalty.

but within him the blossoming uraeus raised its sibilant head and breathed, i will be pharaoh, and senmut could only heed.

Not a soul is untempted by her pull. She is decorated. Her life is a public domain. She belongs to the arms that reach for her, the kneeling heads and tears upon cheeks, the murmurs of grateful prayer on tongues, the mazoi who take up arms at her side and the fellahin who fuss over her presentation. From the stern of this procession he watched while they all were drawn into her orbit.

He is speared at the eyes. Joined with her by a line tracing the movement of an invisible weapon. His captivation is loud, it leaks out of him under the pressure of his own body, released with every slow step as he filtered through the convivial crowdings that fell away entirely.

Until it was only them, and he stood open like a nerve across the distance from her; she consummate, and he feeling the tension rise in his eyes simply by touching her own.

Thoroughbred desire does not come along every day, nor does the quality of such a Queen fit so splendidly into the tides of a prince from the river. She was enough to make any man religious.

“Goddess,” he greeted and bent his neck in bow, though not once did his eyes leave her's.

their departure from akashingo remained grand and nothing short of a fairy tale. but this is what royalty deserved, this is what birthright demanded in purity.

tuna heeds her commands, and when it came to unveil the pearl of the mesa, all fall upon their knees! there thrums a sense of pride the fellahin holds for toula's reign and how she manages to earn such respect and adoration from her people. the ivy and papyrus are held steady, and all the charcoal-winged eyes watch as their queen blesses this new land with her touch and presence.

akashingo grows, and toula steps into her new found power. through it all, tuna remains content.

Just a cameo! Tag for reference.

He caught the tail-end of the commotion from afar, standing and watching on the crest of a nearby hill. It seemed to be a celebration of sorts, with a crowned jewel at its center. His gaze searched the crowd and quickly found her—the diamond in the rough. She was a vision with the feathers in her fur and the charcoal painted on her face; he’d never seen such style and was temporarily entranced by it all. Her image burned in his mind’s eye.

When he snapped out of it and realized he’d been staring, he shook his head at himself and turned away to continue his search for @Valiria.

One day, he hoped to meet the desert’s oasis—the only one who could quench his thirst.