Luneshale Pass good fortune

attn @Senmut

 

perhaps he did not know it, but the once-priest lingered on her mind often. she had not forgotten the way he looked at her, the day she had arrived back to them. she wondered if he could interpret the way she had looked upon him. 
perhaps not. and how could he, when she herself could not? where Rashepses was fire, Senmut was water. but such was essential—did he understand that much? that he was essential to her? 
but he had not come for her. instead, it is to Ashikaga she hears he has sought when she moves to his camp. she is frozen there for a moment as she considers—
but her trust in the man is implicit. she tells the fellahin to deliver to him her whereabouts—with Ra. she needed His Eye, now more than ever! and so with @Tuna now she moves to the highest point of the Pass, taking with her a gift for Him.

he could turn away this cup from himself.

he need only fall in humility, explain to his beloved queen that he was unfit to be pharaoh, that he quailed in the face of controversy, that he was meant as food for the gods, sustenance for all her wants, never as her equal let alone ruler over all of akashingo.

that his blood was rich dark sludge compared to her godlit veins, good earth in which could be grown a good servant but never a deity.

he could, senmut thought dizzily, marry the princess. she would be priestess and princess both then, and surely this would satisfy claims to the throne, which their queen could then pass to her husband.

he was sick! he paced!

and when her attendants found him, they would find their prince owlish and disheveled, hardly becoming of his catskin nor the marking on his forehead. senmut straightened himself as best he was able, and followed, and when he had come into her royal presence, flung himself down in the white dust as if he had never been so eager to grovel.

before her then was Senmut as she had never seen. bowed, yes, but prostrate and groveling? no, never. and all that had been on her mind before was gone. she moved to him, and there was only concern on her features for him. 
tell me what ails you, she breathed.

her voice was the coolness of an alabaster hall, protective and familiar.

"the amiraad has said the gods led her here, divine one. i — believe she will press her claim. and i believe offering her a permanent position in royalty, if not queen or pharaoh, may satisfy her."

what ailed him? he could not speak it, he breathed against the earth.

of course They did, she breathes, I asked Them to, she admitted. it was no wonder why—she missed her family. but she had not thought her ask through, not when it came to her long lost sister. that she might return with her own demand. 
how else might we do so? Toula asked, and then, and what if nothing but Pharaoh would be satisfactory to her? if the Gods had truly wanted this, Ashikaga surely would have returned long ago! 
but then, that the Gods had listened to her… it was a boon. a sign that again and again, the Gods would provide for her—and Toula knew that They also enjoyed their own amusements, and that this might be a thing that provided Them this, too.
Senmut saw something she did not. and believing then that this was what ailed him, she listened to him.

"if nothing else is acceptable, then you must choose then to make her ally or enemy. so long as this remains her aim, she will work against who you put upon the Horus Throne."

the next — it held difficulty. a misworded sentiment might injure her view of him and his devotion to the potential of a divine bond between them.

but you are not worthy of that, senmut's own thoughts reminded him.

"offer her a royal match, one that concentrates her power inside your own control. i am your servant."

the green eyes, now stricken with a moment that passed as soon as it had come.

ally, she thought at once. she did not want to make an enemy of her sister—of any of her family! had they not lost enough? not my enemy, she breathes. but she also understood it was not entirely her choice! 
she looked away, not seeing his features as he next spoke. and though she heard him, his name did not occur to her in the list that came to mind. 
what if she disagrees to a match? Toula asked next, though part of her felt she knew the answer. it would show, certainly, a lack of commitment to her own task—even if it was then still to be named Pharaoh. 
it was as she looked up that she saw the flash of something unknowable pass in his gaze, that she registered the words. you… you would wish this for yourself? she asked, voice gentle—not in pain, but to then see the breadth of his own love for her. 
and how powerless she felt, to know she felt that love then too—to know that to be a Queen was to yield to responsibility, before anything else. but she warred with herself in silence. 
one thing she knew for certain was that she would never make a man or woman do anything against their will. and if Senmut said no… 
still she was silent, but her eyes were soft with many unspoken things.

they had built this lofty tower, he and she. senmut would have been content with its intended end, the feast of coronation and announcement, had not another blooded daughter of the dynasty itself appear upon the sands.

at first she did not know, and then senmut saw the sense of awareness pass over her exquisite face. relieved to hear no anguish in her tones, but aware she was certainly poised enough to veil this from him, he at last sat straight before her, scarlet chest sodden with breaths he drew for her glory alone.

ramesses in her, treva in her. she was makono was ashikaga was siptah was sethnakht. but only toula had endured. only this girl to whom had fallen two thrones — only she had united them.

"i am your servant. i am your brother. the sum of the love i am able to bear is yours, entire. my flesh is yours. i am yours, divine one," senmut breathed, "and it is my wish to be used in any way which preserves the peace you have brought to your people and provides a pathway for future security."

the descendants of the princess could press their own claim to the throne in later years. but if they had been raised not in enmity with the queen, but in her love and kind radiance, they would see her as their divine life keeper, as senmut did now in this offering.

"yes, my queen," the prince uttered, voice limned in zeal and resolution; "if this means the Horus Throne must pass from my hand, then let it be written that my ambitions did not supercede my duty."

she was quiet even still. his words, his lack of ambition, his desire to never betray her—and while she saw that this marriage could give him much, and his children much more… her heart rallied against the idea. 
I will think on this, because with this awareness came something else, and she needed the night to think on it. her own marriage, perhaps, might need to be swifter for this—
but she considered Rashepses, and Thutmose, and Senmut even still. perhaps now Senmut most of all. the other princes might make the same sacrifice, but certainly not for the reason she knew Senmut then did. 
she breathes a little easier. I do not wish to force marriage upon her, she murmured, but then… brother and sister marry—what if two sisters did? in a way that… would not make her Pharaoh, but perhaps if one Pharaoh failed, then… then she might have her chance, then there would be no blood at all upon the floors of Akashingo. 
Toula also did not think to make her Queen yet—not before knowing her heart for certain! but her heart sang at the idea of keeping Ashikaga, for a lifetime—as a friend, as an ally, as a sister perhaps called wife. 
she was no tactician, not like Makono—but she would try to do what she could, try to think out all of the options that were feasible and best. for Akashingo.

the queen gave no answer for this moment and he had not expected one. her inner face was not for senmut to know, though he deeply loathed that she had no vizier. 

or perhaps she had found this in her women, for she had found all manner of joy in their devotion to her and they in her resplendence. 

"brother and sister marry to create an heir with a claim that is strongest to pharaoh. there is not yet precedence for this, but it does not mean there cannot be, divine one."

it may come to pass that by using a prince as consort for them both, their children might be royal and the throne kept between them for many years.

but senmut wished to know now what was behind those splendid eyes which revealed nothing now.

she looked upon him, thinking long and hard. she remembered the question she had asked her father, and him once long ago. but her sister had come for a reason. she did not think she would be so easily deterred. would the Gods truly be made upset by two Pharaohs? she breathes—and, so he understood,
myself. my husband. no war, no blood shed by my sister—nor the princes. Toula had never wanted this power, but she desired blood and war even less. 
she might not want this—but what if they two had been blinded by what had always been precedent? what if the Gods had wanted this, all along? 
perhaps it was They that pressed the question. she saw then the true possibility of it. husband, wife—the two co-rulers, building the greatest era Akashingo might ever know. building a better, more beautiful world for the Pharaohs to come—born from the blood of Gods. 
Toula would net let Akashingo be torn apart, would not let her sister become Set and tear apart her greatest love! it was Iset that stared at Senmut now from the eyes of Toula, with the Goddesses conviction; She would do whatever it took.

"once a pharaoh ruled the upper land and another the low land. the white hedjet and the red deshret, combined."

"the history of your ancestors says there is yet room for white and for red, but cautions. to bind them is best, for the good of all land."

husband.

"your husband would not have your power. he would be only a consort." were the princes yet ready to surrender this power between them?

"consult Ma'at, great one."

would we two not be bound, then, as one? she asked, smiling—but understood, to a degree, that between them she would be the greater power. 
a Pharaonic pair. or—…consort? my husband would not be Pharaoh with me? and then, blinkingly, she wondered if he meant Ashikaga with her. Toula pondered that, and as he spoke of consulting Ma’at, she nodded. 
will you do this with me? I… trust you. need you. know you will understand. so many things she had not the words for! but she closed her eyes and moved to press her own head against his. 
Toula would not let vanity blind her, nor her lack of desire still her tongue when coming to a higher throne that perhaps, like it or not, she was meant for. Senmut would not lie to her, not even when she might lie to herself.

"of course," devoted as much to his worship as he was to any chance of worship alongside her, senmut bowed; and at the touch of their prayerful heads together, he felt the steadiness of his heart emboldened by her very brush. "i think i have misunderstood, divine one. perhaps another time, when i am more fit to listen, you will tell me again your plan for how akashingo must be governed."

to Ma'at; and he shut his eyes.

praise to Ma'at, Daughter of Ra
Consort of God, Beloved of Ptah
She Who Adorns the Breast of Djehuty,
She Who Fashioned Her Own Nature
She Who Pacifies Falcons,
She Who Fills Shrines with Life and Dominion,
Skilled One, who brought forth life from Herself
and brought low the heads of Her enemies,
She is Justice Without Injustice
Come before Your Daughter,
and fill with Her Your wisdom

and when the recitation was over, senmut slumped, exhausted by the consumption of spirit, but tiredly smiled all the same. "we will fast, divine one, until Ra touches the heavens once more."

translation from here

Toula smiled to him, the expression softer than even moments ago. this too I shall pray upon for the Gods to share with me, she decided with a nod. as They lived through her, and she lived for Them, she knew they surely would! 
murmuring the prayer with him, an undercurrent carrying forth the holy waters of their words to where they must be heard, Toula too feels exhaustion strike her. was it the days that had gone by and all that came with them, or was it Ma’at saying to them both, I have heard—I take from you what I need now, to decide?
the energy spent felt a small price for what they stood to learn. I shall fast a little longer—until Khonsu’s moon illuminates the sky, she decided with a furrowed brow. unthinkingly, she leaned a little closer—too tired, perhaps, to think straight. 
I am so grateful to you, she admitted in a breath, and I want for your happiness, too—I know there are sacrifices we two both must make, but if I can give you that much… she could know happiness herself, she imagined. 
how is it I can give to you that much? for all you have given me, I know I have the power to give you something in turn. would you let me hear it? what no other ears might hear! she asks to him what she would always give in turn—his truth. raw, and real, and before the listening Gods that she felt surrounding her then.

he wanted to marry @Nazli.

it had been his first true wish, predicated on their status as peasantry from the rich dark earth. while he had been we'eb and she only a fellahin, senmut had found it easier to approach, to find his footing. to speak — once — of the marriage priests were permitted to make once they had grown high in the holy ranks.

but she had always belonged to makono, both in girlhood and in pharaonic rule. 

and then —

but he did not speak that note. he would not.

the rift between he and nazli had widened, until she remained servant and he now stood to inherit the Horus Throne if Ma'at moved for him in this way. 

senmut breathed no word of this for his queen. instead he allowed her jeweled features to swim within his eyes, the exquisite kohling of her knowing eyes to hold him as the thrall he was. "reward nazli if she returns to us," he said at last, not daring to draw from this closeness with his eternal ruler unless she bid it so. a shiver bit his flesh, for she was divinity made flesh and he was only a man of mud.

"give her a rank that is permanent, great one. a place of status that is all her own, unattached to any marriage she might make in the future."

he had not protected nazli as priest. he could not protect her from pharaoh as husband. this must be what was given, what he requested. "and it must come from you, great one," senmut exhaled, the taste of the air between them tinged with salt and the unspoken sorrows which nazli had borne in her own loyalty.

what Nazli gets from me shall be from me, she promised. and in his words shared, she saw his heart—who it would always be for, even though he did not then ask for her hand. my sister loved her. I love her. she is… ah. good, and sweet, and pure. I meant to make her one of my ladies—and my gift to her, my own gift, was her own choice as to who she might marry someday. when she is ready. the girl had earned that much! 
I will not have you marry our Amiirad, unless it is your own true wish. she breathes. she deserves love, as much as you do. and my own gift to you—you shall not marry either, until you are ready. Senmut would have his choice. 
Toula loved him, too—but then, when that time came, should it ever, it would still be his own choice.

the gentle queen wished to remove from before senmut a cup she thought was bitter.

with some difficulty he put aside the remnants of his once-blissful imagery and straightened his shoulders beneath her kindly eyes; "your gift is more than i can accept, great one." and! he hoped! he knew! she would not take badly to his continued honesty, and if she did, he would bear it, would bear it entire.

and still before her the green stare became stricken, and his words would not make themselves known in a way that mattered, until he knew he could hide them behind no veneer. he was not made for such illusion, and because senmut knew he had given away this part of himself, he would not pretend it did not exist.

"majesty," and here there he trod in danger, "was her story ever told to you?"

she looked at him truly, then. a story to be told—but for what? she trusted the good in him, knew it existed and knew it to be the better part of him,
but it was a man that stood before her, a man prepared to tell the story of a girl. she will be the one to tell me it, she said steadily in turn to him. it was a decision quickly made—but not to avoid. only because she suspected by his tone that… that there was something she could not undo. 
yes—even she understood there was something to it—but more than that, she did not. it is not yours to tell, except for your part in it, and it was another gift she provided to them both then, but especially Nazli.

she was wise and direct; she exceeded all expectation of queen or even pharaoh. akashingo's resplendency was renowned in her, but more than that, it was given light and gold by her own understandings, which ran far deeper than even senmut had known.

"then — for my part in it — i did not protect her, and i could not now. she must not endure me any longer, great one."

it was as much as he could say. senmut tried with valiance to maintain the set of his bearing, to remain a prince. for her, as much as himself. more than himself. there was no greater sum of Ma'at than her eyes upon him. and as pharaoh he could only be her consort, for never would he bear the royal stamp necessary to demand the throne.

at last senmut moved as he had not before, to draw upon daring and to place his unworthy scarlet paw, stained with months of painting, o'ertop her own, for a moment that lasted longer than appropriate — if she was a goddess and he her servant. "my queen. i am ready now."

the truth was settled, calm, in the brilliance of his viridian eyes.