Lion Head Mesa For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

After her talk with Jawahir, there was much about her life that Nazli felt compelled to take apart, examine, indulge, and then re-do, in her spare time; most of which she did, and then it carried over to her working hours, to the point that her work became a little sloppy and -- Nazli found, she did not care as much.

If one day she was to be used in such a way, she may as well make herself less appealing. It is an act to protect herself; something she did not mean to do, either. But when she was told to collect this, move that, tidy one room or another, she left things a little under-done, and did not feel so badly for it.

Her final order of the day was to visit the hem's quarters and take word from @Akhtar or @Senmut, whoever was present, so that their work was easier for them. It could have been cleaning or gathering for a ritual, it could have been observance of some other moment, but she waited by the door for someone to arrive and give her orders.

gonna give box a chance to reply to this one too :D

when he turned, she was there.

senmut all but knocked over the small offering of paint he had been using to mark holy things upon the wall once more. he looked around for his master and did not at once see.

nazli looked drawn and quite miserable. the young priest crept from his place and went to her when he knew he should not. "are you —"

If they have time to add Akhtar they will, but said to continue!

Senmut spoke as the priest stepped in, around Nazli, and then away again for some reason or other - but it was enough of a presence to make Nazli nervous, and to curtail questions.

She spoke in a direct manner for the two of them, though the high priest was distracted and busy: Is there anything for me to help with?

he shook his head. "no."

the young we'eb gave a glance at the turned back of the priest and then pulled nazli out of the room. his verdant eyes searched her.

"are you all right?"

When the high priest's back was turned, Senmut swept her aside.

She had asked a question and been met with denial. Without more work to do Nazli's mind would only wander further, and she couldn't have that. She had to stay busy and keep up appearances of a good servant - but not too good, countered some part of her mind. She was at war with herself.

Senmut took notice of her dishevelment. Perhaps as a spiritual man he could see something wrong with her? Good, she found herself thinking; maybe he sees what he doesn't like. Maybe this is what I should aim for.

Are you all right?

Nazli feels pressure in her chest. She cannot look at him, but that is alright, that is normal for a fellahin. I... I need, please, I need something to do. A job. Something. If there is nothing then she'd only go back to her alcove and she couldn't fathom that right now. Her voice is quiet and almost pleading, and still her eyes are averted as she says: Senmut, please.

she was filled with fear. she did not look at him.

senmut glanced helplessly at nazli once before he pulled aside. "the — the red reeds. i have more of them. i need them to be split and stacked, then taken to the roof for drying."

he gestured to two sheafs of such sitting near the paint where he had been drawing his words to the gods. they could work side by side, in silence. at least until akhtar sent her away.

He spoke of the reeds. That was enough for Nazli to focus on and begin to calm down.

She moved to gather, then split one, and another. She was stricken as she worked - not quite trembling but clearly distracted as she first hurried to work.

If Akhtar noticed the way they'd both spirited off together, he gave no indication. Senmut stood beside her and appeared to work at the same task, which made it go along smoothly, though it would be a tedious bit of work not swiftly finished.

senmut wondered what had happened to nazli? had she been chastened? suppose she had been punished. but he could not see tavina nor any nobles doing such to her. so what had occurred?

the young priest grew grave. 

what if had been pharaoh, pressing an advantage?

they worked in silence. eventually he turned his eyes toward nazli again, wondering if she would speak now.

Soothed somewhat, Nazli could breathe a little easier as she focused on this task and let some of her feelings sink down deep, to be hidden away.

She felt his attention upon her a few times yet Senmut said nothing. The sussuration of the reeds was all either could hear, for a bit.

A sigh came.

What do you see, when you look at me? She hadn't stopped pulling apart the reeds and would not look to Senmut.

the question caught him off guard. senmut blinked rapidly toward his work, and toward the paint, which had now dried into a hard rim round the inside of its container.

"i see someone who is devout and loyal to akashingo." it was broad. it was vague. the priest did not think it was what she meant.

"you have a lot of beauty, nazli. it is not all in your face. much of it is in your spirit and how you work among others." now it was his turn to be sheepish; he shut his mouth and bent himself studiously over their task.

She did not know what to expect. When he spoke she initially flushed warm and red and bashful, but while listening to the words more intently, she saw dangers.

Pretty-faced. A good worker. Amicable among people. All good things for a fellahin - blessings, except...

But what else?! Nazli can't help the minor eruption. The reeds she previously held were crushed. Ruined. She carefully places them aside and looks at the floor.

I'm sorry. I... she didn't know how to put in to words all that she felt, or how threatening such praise now sounded to her, given what she knew to expect of her own life. Jawahir had given her fair warning but it had destabilized something essential within Nazli.

It was recently shared with me that... hmm, her eyes were glossy and she willed the sensation away. There are more uses for fellahin than what I've been trained, so far. My -- Jawahir, they... Advised me of it.

Hot, getting hotter, like her skin was aflame and she felt repulsed, and repulsive, and -- many unmentionable things.

nazli spoke finally what she had learned. senmut sickened and blanched. 

"yes. i — am familiar with the practice." he swallowed and looked down at their paws in the reeds, his ears echoing after the abrupt sharpness of her voice.

"but you do not have to stay and serve in such a way, nazli. or ask that your mistress decide the hour, if you remain in akashingo. she cares for you, does she not?" his eyes were searching.

He knew?

Of course he knew. They must all have known; this secret that wasn't a secret, except to Nazli. For she who worked herself to near-death, and worried over silly things like preparing meals, and the state of the rooms, and which color appealed to which piece of divinity among them; but this was kept from her and Nazli was aghast.

Was she not trusted, then?

Makono - did she trust her, truly? Was that a lie as well? Perhaps the princess did not know of this; but she was divine! She knew of things Nazli had no hope of ever learning!

But you do not have to stay and serve in such a way, Nazli, Senmut was speaking upon it as if he understood. When had he been given such a warning? Had he been trained in this? He was a priest! He was not permitted. Too precious, too holy. Nazli was neither. She was starting to think of herself as disgusting.

He had once spoken of marriage.

Nazli's mind reeled at the memory of it.

Your mistress . . . she cares for you . . . That rising pitch of static in her ears came, blocking out some of what Senmut was saying. For a moment all Nazli could hear was the sharp whine of the tinnitus inside her head. She saw the way he searched her face.

I do what is asked of me. I do all that is asked! She hates the probing manner of his gaze, or maybe that he looks upon her now at all, she cannot decide what is to be hated, only that for an instant it is there and it is a vitriolic, potent thing. Is that why you spoke to me of marriage?

Do you see me as something that needs to be kept? Am I some prize like Makono says, or -- am I a thing to be given away, a prize to someone like, like you for -- good and loyal service? Her eyes are shining and black and full of tears she refuses to spill. Her skin feels too tight. Nazli hadn't meant to, but she'd stopped working at the task he'd given her and had stepped back as if horrified by it all.

"no!" his voice was a sodden, strangled cry; it was senmut's turn to be horrified. why had these things not been said to her? why did she react in such a way? "i spoke of marriage because — because whoever i marry will not be a fellahin."

and yet only pharaoh could free nazli. senmut looked helplessly at the girl. "you are a — a person to me, nazli. not a servant. not a — you are you."

his words were simple and worthless. he stared into the tearful void of her eyes and wished so much that she did not know what was to come.

He rallied back with cries of his own; claims that she was wrong, claims that he could lift her somehow away from her place as fellahin as if that was something she might want!

You are a person to me, not a servant.

So you confirm it! Now she had lost her mind entirely, she must have to speak to a priest in such a way - and so openly that Akhtar might hear them, but Nazli had been full of these unspoken things for too long and letting them eat away at parts of her; they had to come to some brimming point, to spill over. Why not be heard? What would it change?

Now, as you see me, with all that I have done — a fellahin, and not a person! What he said hurt in a deep way because it confirmed for Nazli all that she had begun to suspect of herself. Tavina had raised her to be this obedient and mindless thing, and Makono lauded her for her good service, and yet Jawahir spoke of the truth first - and Senmut in his way, to the confused girl, made it all the more clear.

Perhaps I should get it over with! I am nothing, so who would care what happens! Her voice was dying out, almost rasping. Tears soaked the furs of her cheeks and hung suspended from her chin. Ugly, disgusting, repulsive thing that she was!

She could not look at him — the reeds scattered, in pieces or intact it did not matter, the job would be the first she'd not complete — she moved forcibly away from him and snaked along the sand, tail tucking to her belly as she ran stumbling from her duties. She knew the best way in and out of the palace to not be seen, and would go to seek the catacombs.

once more senmut was left in the wake of nazli's words and nazli's anger. he kept his mouth shut this time, staring at the floor of the priest's quarters as she eked out a final word and was gone.

his heart galloped. he did not want her to do this thing. but neither could he stop her.

he dissolved into salt when she had been gone for several minutes; he set his forehead against the wall and wrapped himself in prayer. he must stay from her now; he must not try to change her course.

she would only suffer for it.