Lion Head Mesa whisper of the night [wp]

for reference, this is after the sacrifice, and Akh is honestly nowhere near his rooms

Curses-!

He couldn’t seem to quite remember where his room was. And if he ran into another couple trying to hide among the stone walls, he believed he would leap from the Mesa, grow wings, and fly away. The Saluki himself stumbled and fumbled as he walked, cursing in Farsi every time his legs slammed against each other.

Damn him! How uncoordinated did he need to get before the gods gave him rest?!

Another breathless moan in the corridor ahead made him rear his head as far back as he could, wildly taking several steps back. Was that the same couple?! He stormed back the way he came, now convinced he had been walking in circles for gods knew how long.

He wanted to either sleep, or perhaps find another partner for revelry. Unbidden, his mind turned to Belen, their time together. Roughly, he pushed away the thoughts once again. He was doing that a lot these days. She was fine, wherever she was.

He just needed some sleep. And to stop hearing more damned moaning-!

senmut left nazli; he found ahktar, disgruntled and searching.

"hem." his voice was anticipatory, tense. "princess makono means to be crown prince." the words rushed. "she meant to change fate tonight. to change Ma'at."

he swallowed. the air felt thick. "pharaoh has already named prince siptah. can such a thing be undone?"

Akhtar’s brain felt as thought it had become mush. Senmut’s words swept over him like water over the wings of a duck, and sloughed off again.

He inhaled sharply.

Ah.

She may yet change her father’s mind. A new crown prince can be declared at any time, should the pharaoh decide they are unfit. For a moment, he mourned the idea of a Scholar-King. If the girl took the throne, he did not want to know how deep the blood would seep.

She would be breaking upon the shore of a thousand years of tradition, however. She would have a long, hard fight to prove herself. And that is not to say she could keep it either. Women-kings are often challenged for such.

Godspeed, girl. You would need it.

senmut was taken aback.

"so this can be changed? it — it has happened before?" he was so surprised he hardly noted akhtar's reaction.

"what — what would she have to do, to keep the throne?"

Akhtar breathed.

Oh, you poor, foolish boy.

It has happened. It has never ended well. He tried to think through the thick veil of drunkenness.

Fight. If Siptah does not allow it, she will become a contender. And to take her crown, she will either have to kill him, or make him surrender it. This is not to mention Pharaoh himself. He is not an old man, Senmut. There will be more royal children, more competition. One sacrifice does not bring her the throne.

He looked at his apprentice with knowing eyes.

The pathway to a throne is lined with bone, and paved with blood. Too many lose their souls to it. This is not to bring up the gods displeasure, should she move against what they wish. Then we all suffer.

the world ahktar painted was bleak indeed. his ears fell backward as the high priest went on and on, describing a time of blood and of strife.

could she really kill her brother? her littermate? could she do it again?

his breath came hard. his heart galloped. "what can be done, holy one?" for now he feared greatly; for now he knew her eternal ka was in jeopardy.

His smile was crooked. Cruel, almost, with the sharpness of alcohol turning his tumultuous thoughts into a sharpened arrow of anger.

Nothing. He said, tail giving a short flick.

If she has damned herself to this, there is little we can do. Besides, perhaps, pray she sees light. Or, maybe, that Siptah stands down. Or to the gods themselves, to hope they have not found offense. He shook his head.

Other then that, child, I have little to nothing.

senmut was sick and dizzy. he bowed before the hem. "thank you for your wisdom."

his voice was heavy.

"ah — holy one. the princess' servant, nazli, she is asleep." a pause. "in your bed, i expect." senmut fumbled.

In a flash, the sharpness of Akhtar was gone, replaced again with the tottering drunkenness of the man. He blinked sleepily, biting back a yawn.

Its alright. So long as my room is in one piece still, I will be alright losing my bed for a night.

"i am certain she will leave quickly."

he hoped nazli would not fear akhtar.

"good night, holy one."' he bowed low, and when dismissed, swept off into the night.