Lion Head Mesa twenty-eighth

aw, tag for ref!

as his power grew, so did senmut think more often of @Nazli.

he knew not the numbers of the lake, or if she had gone of her own want, or if she was happy, away from the palace. but senmut knew now that he at last had the standing and favour to give her a blissful life. ramesses had been interred. toula's reign already proved fruitful. the palace was brightening.

these thoughts conflicted with his own perceived selfishness. nazli had suffered in akashingo, more than any servant should have been put to anguish. how could he consider ordering her to be brought back?

quietly he returned to his muralwork upon the main wall leading into the queen's throne-room, using dyes of bright grass and crushed dandelion.

as always, the dogtag announced him.

but far from the jaunty step of a charming nobleman, he approached the girl-queen's rooms with the weary languidity of a politician.

no. the previous was girl - this 'un was mere toddler.

and yet, how they prospered beneath her soft paws!

it brought a mirthless curl of lips to him, which faded when he saw the hallway hadn't yet emptied for the day.

gucci slowed to a stop. he cast a disinterested glance over the work being done, until the roll of eyes landed at the face of the priest.

naw. nawt that no more.

"-fternoon." his tongue tested the title. "...errpa-hah."

light dip of head - an exhale like a forgotten laugh.

"neb." senmut had never forgotten gucci's service to the pharaoh ramesses. nor had the man run away with the disgraced queen, nor had he seen fit to leave now in the new rule of such a young royal.

he remained. and yet senmut in his own sense of growing power wanted to hear it.

the man stepped back and indicated his work. "an homage to Iset. may it bring the hemet-nekheb joy and peace to see it each day. may the Goddess bless her lineage in the future."

again, was with little emotion that he looked over the mural. gaudy decoratin', some internal part commented, but the man remained closed off. 

"mm. long live th' queen." single lash of tail.

then, to the priest-prince. "ya prayin' fer that, holiness?" his nose twitched. "a lineage." 

the meaning, taken. 

senmut did not blink. "the royal blood in akashingo is ancient and holy, and i am its servant. i hope everlasting life to pharaoh's dynasty."

for pharaoh might yet return, and resume her leadership, and toula would continue upon the hallowed path of so many queens before her. "and you, noble one?"

and yet ya sure saw to it its most holiest didn't live to ancientness.

"naw, nawt really." gucci's lips pleasantly curled. "mah children're gems worth their weight." 

"speakin' o' such thangs," he made his tail sway, adjusted his posture to a casual tilt. "ain't it awful shame our queen's still young as a fresh bud? your holiness seein' t' it she receives wisdom o' a more ripe age?"

"indeed, the queen is happy enough to take my counsel." his tones were careful. "of course, she must be guided by more than i. it seems her court is devoid of nobles, save one."

it was an invitation for gucci to rejoin them, under a new banner, in a new and far prettier throne room despite the lack of its imposing walls and high ceilings.

makono's seat sat silent.

he saw what was offered - seeing man would trip over the implication - and the innermost and bittermost parts of him tussled like two fat racoons. 

he could not imagine a peaceful transition of power. not if the son returned, not if the daughter returned, not if the twin spoke up about his right. gucci had seen assassinations, banishments, conspiracies - he did not wish to see a war ( not if it couldn't be handily won ), and felt the seat of akashingo was so highly exalted, those seated eventually began to wheeze for a lack of oxygen.

the patron goddess of the baby-queen watched him from an unpainted face. unaware of own motions, he raised a paw and placed it on the dried section.

"nobility'll come, 'rpa-ha. they'll wash through these halls like first rains through a burrow - leave 'em picked clean, yeah, but clean all th' same." a chuckle. he thought the play of shadows made the goddess wink.

lowering the paw, he looked to senmut.

"what'll queen offer tah those comin'? well, ah ask ya, holiness, like she ain't jest 'round th' bend, but, well," curl of lips. "ah'd like a taste of ripeness, first."

"that is for her to decide," senmut chose to say after a time.

he did not fault the man for his wants. "perhaps you might tell me your desire, noble one."' the words were encouraging, though his tone was cool.

his eyes too, were upon the goddess. may toula's steps be guided through this accursed place.

he studied that young face of a man risen from clergy, now a whisker's width from the throne.

gucci wondered if ambition had begun to rot the base of senmut's morals. whatever they might've been.

"peace." gucci said, flatly. "tha' 'er young majesty works fer prosperity through words. 's air what fills a ship's sails 'fterall."

his sickled tail wrapped about his forepaws.

"ah'll speak clear. mah loyalties are tah th' mesa, th' kingdom within. ah'll respect anyone enthroned. what ah won't... 's when little ambitious take a bite outta common sense." his grimace was bitter.

gucci pledged his loyalty.

senmut heard and wondered at it.

"do you want a larger home, neb? a marriage? something to bind your blood truly to the mesa? speak it."

in this moment, the young high priest did not think of Amun.

spare me. his paw made a sharp, dismissive sweep. ahm in comfort's what most dream of. ah'll marry when it benefits th' kingdom. an-

gucci paused, good thoughts risin' to the surface.

he looked the princeling over again.

mah daughter. he said. didn't need to specify. if there's any such thang as can be done fer assurin' 'er station... he spread his forelegs with a flourish, small half-smile pushing up one cheek. offer up.

ethics be damned, his brilliantmost child deserved a good place.

to this, a wry smile.

medusa. senmut considered. "akashingo has a high priest. it may also need a high priestess."

a pause, pregnant, for he did not think gucci meant to offer medusa as any sort of wife, and yet such things were done by nobility. "our queen will be in need of an astrologer."

he'd decided when they was pups, both twin would have their pick of groom or bride, when they decided on it, when there was no pressure to fulfil a duty. this arranged marriage business was for him and his vanning years alone.

whatever's her passion. he nodded. offer her either, say she's been good pupil. make nah mention o' me. this was the major thing.

"so let it be written."

so let it be done.

"i will say nothing, noble one. but i know of medusa's power. she will hold such power of her own accord, beyond either of us."

power. beyond either of them. he weren't fond of the phrasing, but all the same, pride tickled at that dark mood of his like candleflame a frostbit toe.

sah let it be done. he nodded.