the telling dreams,

Toula · (This post was last modified: August 21, 2023, 09:12 PM by Toula.)

this post is a dream, and co-wrote/collaborated by @Ramesses and I!

ramesses stirred from his pleasure-barge upon the endless river. he raised his head, his marble-white ears, and smiled, for he knew the voice which called upon him now.
carefully the eternal father listened; his daughter toula, crowned queen, now implored him now to know what she must do with the divine and ancient blood that was her holiest and heaviest burden.
”daughter of mine, young and royal falcon.” she who wore gold draped upon all of her, and her limbs were weighed with it, and her head was bowed even now with the small uraeus of queenship.
”you have many princes and their followers gathered now, and you risk war if you deny them the chance to compete for what you have offered.” he sent his voice skyward, where the gods turned it into dreamstone words settling upon toula’s sleeping ear.
nostrils, flaring, flaring for the bloodmusk of the incense he had loved in life; and touched the face of the veil between their worlds with a wistful paw.
”you see what becomes of pharaoh, my toula, my princess of lotus-flowers. but you have also known the fate of two queens. will you be a third? no, my child; you must harden your heart as did i, as did makono. you must think as pharaoh and bear a new son. if you sit upon that throne, you still must have a consort, and to deny him the seat of Horus would mean immediate coldness in such a companionship.”
here ramesses might be heard to sigh; for he had begun with pleasures and yet would end in torment. half the day spent to bliss; the second in agony, payment for his sins; his soul devoured each night by Ammit.
”you must be the one to do such killing. you must be the one who refuses to be put away. you are the daughter of a lineage which marked the beginning of the black land. you are Wife to the Gods. all power is yours. become pharaoh and field a dozen princes at once. they will fight you and ally with each other, then tear the kingdom apart when you have been put to death. become queen and bear a son in my name. protect him with all your strength and influence. raise him to sit after his father, no matter who bears another. it is your blood which makes akashingo, and none foreign may prevail against it.”
fading; a whisper of smoke; ”i am with you, toula, and all my love is yours.”

in the fog of dreams, she heard water. warmth set upon her skin that was, if not the gaze of her father, the watchful eye of Ra. and then he speaks—a voice in which she has not heard for too long, she feels. it is so familiar that she would know it anywhere—and she listened, for he had heard her! she was a small girl, a cub, at the start of this dream. but minute by minute, she grew.
he spoke of many truths. and Toula considered them from on high with a frown, contemplative. time felt too short—she felt the sands of them running through the grooves of her paws.
his words were a comfort. they gave to her what she needed, and yet something churned within her. she hailed to Tutu, to Bes—she, Their wife, Their love—to prolong this, to give Her power.
Toula was upon the barge. she saw Him, loved Him—she was Goddess as he was God. alright, father. I do not want coldness in my companionship—I want only love. one like or Iset, and Osiris—only, no Set! she laughs to him then. my heart will not harden. I open it; I invite in only who shall be worthy of the seat beside me. I am not one for killing, not what need not be killed. she was different than her father, than Makono.
and she was the one still alive. two Pharaohs, two Queens—and she would be the one to change the history of the role, no longer Shabti. still, she trusted the words of her father. she looked around them. the world glimmered; she could keep nothing in focus except for him, and she looked back to her father. is this the Land of Reeds, father? are you… happy here?

from here ramesses could sense her life-spark had not changed, had not darkened. not after his death nor the departure of makono, nor her loneliness, nor her cry to him now had removed her hope nor her love, nor shadowed her in hatred.
”perhaps you are the first one who will not turn to stone, Queen of the Red Land,” and here the shade of ramesses felt a glissade of deep angst, to know he would never again walk with her beside the serpent in affection and in teaching.
”guard yourself, all the same. love — love is a weakness that only the servants have the luxury of not wielding. you marry who is right, but not only for love; marry for strength and let love bloom second.” but he felt even as he said this, that she was far beyond it; ramesses smiled and said, ”i have all here that i wish. this is indeed the Land of Reeds. here there is bliss. here there is atonement. the happiness of your world is no longer known to me, but i am content.”
and he would go again, willingly, to ammit. the transparency of his figure strengthened, and with all his might did the once-pharaoh attempt to bring himself into focus.
”there is one among you who holds a secret. he does not know it. and when you know it, he must never hear its truth. listen and heed me, toula, for the sake of your kingdom and all that comes after.”

she heard him and considered. then, she agreed—yes, they must be strong and carry such a strength to safeguard Akashingo! he was right, and she nodded. one who had strength surely also carried strength enough to love her, in time. and she, them.
he became clearer before her eyes. she felt at peace to know the things that he said. there had been a weight she unwittingly carried with her, but to know this for certain… she lifted her head higher. for a moment, she appeared a little girl again—tiny, small, a cub, she approached him and leaned against him with closed eyes. but when she opened them, she was now comfortably and companionably in the crook of his arm—only a daughter being held by their father. she might have cried, but she only knew happiness then. blessed.
Toula did not know when they two again would be able to speak like this. the Gods had listened to extend the time she had with him now, but when she woke it might be years before she saw his golden visage again. Toula stared at him, unsure how she might have ever forgotten the brilliance of his gaze or the mere way in which he carried himself—
his words carried a warning. always, she said in answer, but what should I do, if he comes to know it? how might I and Akashingo prevail? what matter of secret was this? if he could tell her, he surely would have—and so she sought to know the way in which a wrong might be righted, if it were at all possible! he knew as well as she that secrets rarely remained hidden. whether she liked it or not, Toula knew it might come to her. and if her ears heard it, who was to say that the others would not? what then?

oh, what hallowed thing! what blessings from the godheads themselves, and ramesses was moved almost near to weeping. he too did not cry, however; he held this shaded form of the daughter he had left behind and allowed himself an inward cry of jubilation to Amun.
”do as i have said.”
death for khusobek, and may that insidious tome die with him.
could she raise her had for a necessary killing? could he return to this land of reeds with new anguish for her, new keening that he could not come back?
but she could not, would not, and ramesses would not compel her. ”i can say no more, treasured one. i must go now, i must —” to ammit, to atone, to be consumed, rebirthed in pain for a new day.
it would not be enough for the thousand slights he had paid the favored lilac of makono.
his arms, they tightened; he did not wish to let toula go, and yet here he was, the time of shades fading, and he with it; he grasped for her and this time, there was a crystalline teardrop upon his cheek.

there was only one way to ensure one would not hear truths. would he not say it, or could he not, in knowing this was one thing that she might never do?
Toula saw him begin to fade, and did not understand. in part, she was waking—one more minute, she near begged of the Gods. perhaps in knowing of the things They soon would see done, and have her do, They let her lean against him and he against her for the sands of time that meant just that.
and she learned the value of this precious minute, as she leaned against him—leaned into his downy furs, pressing close and smiling, swallowing the salt of tears—

slowly,
she stirred…

and she awoke, her cheek pressed into the downy mink furs he had gifted to her mother, Treva, that she had come to use as a little girl and could not ever be rid of. she tasted salt, and looked at the impression upon her shoulder that looked, to her, like… like…
she rose, looking around her. and her tears began anew to see him no more, the warmth of the dream giving way to the cold loneliness of this night. but there was gratitude in her heart, too—she thanked the Gods, all of Them, for the gift They had provided.
even as she struggled to recall the whole of it!