My solution to writers block: start something new. This is another King Tut story, sorry but I love em. And it has nothing to do with my other Tut story so. . . . He's just a fascinating historical figure and perfect for historical romances. ^.^
Okay, well, you guys know the drill, read and review!
It wasn't sunny. Which was more than unusual because it had been cloudy all week. And in Egypt, that's not normal.
I was grateful though. I welcomed the cool air on my face as I climbed the stairs to the palace. The Pharaoh was building more statues of the Gods, to replace the ones neglected during his father's reign. Because my father was one of the artisans chosen to work on the project, I as his only daughter brought lunch and water to him every afternoon.
Tahirah! Ah, the water bringer! My suitor, Abasi, called out to me, laughing. Thank the gods! He too was chosen to work on the statues.
I smiled and brought the water over to him first. I think I forgot to mention that I bring water to ALL the artisans. I have to go everyday anyway, and I'm getting paid so it doesn't bother me.
Except for him. Osahar. He works on the opposite side of the palace, far enough away from Abasi and father that he feels he can safely harass me. It doesn't help that I'm usually dressed in my more revealing outfit; topless, with a long, sheer skirt. It's what I wear to dance, which I practice everyday before heading to the palace.
Osahar leered at me. Hello, Tahirah. You look lovely today, as always. Having any trouble with your health again?
My health. An issue I've had to deal with all my life. And one of the reasons I have few friends. Everyone thinks I'm either cursed or blessed.
See, I'm not exactly your normal, fourteen-year-old Egyptian girl. Oh no. It's much more complicated than that. I have what priests like to call spells.' Major spells are when I'll faint and remain unconscious for hours. Minor spells are just an intense, but brief, dizziness. For years, local priests have been trying valiantly to understand why. Of course, I've lied to them. They think I don't know what happens during the spell, or when I'm unconscious.
Again, I'm not normal. Every time I have a major spell, my soul--my mind or whatever you want to call it--leaves my body and enters the body of a girl named Leigh. A girl who will be born three thousand years in the future. In a country called America, where they speak a strange--and complicated--language called English. I've been fluent in both Egyptian and English, and have been since I was a child.
This is the only life I've known. Crossing time and living inside the mind of another for hours while my own body rests in this world. To me, it isn't strange or cursed, but wonderful.
Leigh has the same condition as I do, the spells. That's when I have my minor spells, is when her mind joins mine for a short time. Our thoughts are open to each other, and it's comforting to have such a companion, even if it's only the two of us who understand.
So I guess you could say I'm touchy about my health.
I'm perfectly fine, Osahar. Here's your water. I extended the jar towards him, and he gripped my wrist, dragging me closer.
Surely you're getting tired of that boy courting you. Abasi. It's time you seriously gave thought to your future. He sniffed my skin, the oils and perfumes I used. I could give you everything you'd ever need.
I really shouldn't have. It was such a waste, and father would have my head if he ever found out. I did it anyway.
I poured the jar of water on his head.
The heat must be getting to you.
I wandered back around the palace, admiring it's size and architecture. It's a sight I see everyday, but it still amazes me.
The empty jar hung in my hands and I nearly dropped it as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I struggled to lean against a nearby column until it passed. I knew I was no longer alone in the afternoon shade.
I slide down the column and curled my legs up under me, resting my back against the cool stone.
Yo! And how are you this fine, fine afternoon?
That's Leigh. I could hear her thoughts in my own head, and responded.
I'm all right. What are you so happy about?
I just got asked to the prom! By a senior! That's, like, unheard of.
The prom, I'd found out a few weeks ago, was a dance for upperclassmen at her high school. She, being a freshman, was not allowed to go unless invited by an upperclassman to be his date. It was a fantasy she had, being asked by a senior, and apparently it came true.
That's good, right?
Duh! It's wonderful! Except I have no idea what to wear! And what if he thinks I'm just an immature little freshman? Oh god, I'm doomed!
Oh be quiet. He wouldn't have asked if he thought that.
She didn't answer, just pouted in the back of my mind.
Is he cute?
No, he's HOTT! Not cute, that's for little boys. Geez, you ancients need to keep up with the modern terminology.
I didn't honor that with a response.
I should've been paying attention to what was going on around me. I shouldn't have chosen the middle of the walkway as a place to sit. And I shouldn't have been muttering to myself about insane Americans. Unfortunately, I was.
I leapt in the air as a sandaled foot smashed my poor, delicate fingers into the stone floor. I could hear Leigh's laughter bubbling in my mind and it didn't help. I very nearly cursed, except that would only make her laugh harder.
Sorry. Though I must say, I wouldn't suggest sitting on the ground, there's a large chance you might get stepped on. When I finally looked up, I wished I hadn't gotten out of bed this morning. Really, as if my day could not get any worse. Towering above me stood a young man, gazing down at me with an amused smirk. His hair--whether it was a wig or not, I couldn't tell--was short, and dark, tightly curled against his head. It looked like it would be very soft to touch.
Bad thoughts, eh Tahi? He's pretty hott for a mummy. Leigh paused, and I tried not to beat my head against the ground about the mummy thing. So, who is he, exactly? I take you know him? He talks like he knows you anyway, but I've never seen him before. . .
Shut up. And no, I don't know him. He's probably nobility.
Thank you, I'll keep that in mind. I accepted his offered hand and let him pull me to my feet. Standing, I was dismayed to see he was still a great deal taller than me. I wanted him to stop staring at me with that amused twinkle in his dark brown eyes. They were very clear, and warm, like smooth chocolate, and I-
Are you just going to stand there? A gruff voice, definitely not belonging to the man before me, interrupted my thoughts and I was startled to realized we weren't alone. Turning, another man, bald, tall, and muscular, glared down his nose at me. He seemed to be waiting for me to do something.
Er, what else would I do?
Bow! Do you not know the Pharaoh when you see him? Insolent girl, show the proper respect to the Pharaoh Nebkheperure Tutankhamun! The man snarled, his lip curling up in a nasty scowl and I worried he might start foaming at the mouth.
He's the PHARAOH?! Leigh screaming--well, not technically since there wasn't any sound, just an idea of screaming--in my head wasn't helping. The Pharaoh, Jesus Christ, who woulda thought he'd be so hott? And young? I always kinda imagined them as a old, fat, bald guys, like tubby over there.
That tubby-over-there is probably a Royal Vizier. I muttered in English. Thank the gods, because a brief moment of insanity and forgetfulness caused me to speak out loud. Oops.
The Vizier, or who I assumed to be one anyway, exclaimed.
This has not been my day.
I dropped to my knees and stretched my hands on the ground in front of me, lowering my head to the cold stone. Thank the gods it wasn't sand, I'd have choked or something equally embarrassing.
Infinitely better, girl. You'd best learn your place in this world, if you intend to live in it. The man twisted on his heel, and stalked off, apparently expecting the Pharaoh to follow.
Needless to say, he didn't. Watching over his shoulder until the man was gone, he glanced at my kneeling form and grinned in obvious amusement.
So glad I can provide you with such entertainment. I mumbled, without thinking. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.
You really need to learn to keep your mouth shut. Thanks Leigh.
I won't even say it.
Nothing, Your Highness. I said, pushing my head into the ground. Maybe it would open up and swallow me.
So this is King Tut? As in the guy Steve Martin wrote that song about?
Yeah. That's him. I wasn't really listening to her. Wait, what song?
Get up, you'll bruise your head. He stated plainly, laughter in his voice. I obeyed reluctantly, not wanting do make any more mistakes. Murphy's rule says that I would. I did.
With it's usual bad timing, a dizzy spell hit suddenly; I stumbled, falling again to my knees, and cradled my head in my hands. The world swam before my eyes, and I closed my eyes until the scenery settled. Leigh was gone. I wished she hadn't. Not only was the Pharaoh gazing at me with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, having witnessed one of my spells without an explanation. It's just always good not to be alone.
Are you ill? I'd almost forgotten about him. He knelt by my side, not touching but still looking at me with those eyes that seem perpetually laughing.
I'm fine. I just have these dizzy spell sometimes. The easiest way to explain it. I didn't think he'd believe me if I told him the truth. He seemed kind of astonished at that description of it, though. Like maybe I'm making it up for attention or something.
Tahirah-jamilah! Tahi! Garai called my name from somewhere further away. He's my oldest brother, and probably came looking for me when I didn't return on time. My family has this idea that one day they're going to find me laying in the some corner, unconscious and vulnerable. They keep a close eye one me, unfortunately.
Tahirah-jamilah? Is that your name? Tutankhamun, the Pharaoh, asked. He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. I nodded. I hated my name, no one but Garai called me by my full name. Everyone else just shortened it to Tahirah. Thank Isis.
Then I suppose you should be going. He rose to his feet, moving like water, elegant and fluid. I tried to mimick his grace. It didn't work very well, and I nearly fell again. Straightening, I nodded, bowed slightly, and walked off.
Okay, I'm trying to make it as historically accurate as possible, which is hard cause very little is known about King Tut. I'm kinda using some artistic license here because no one really knows how he died. I'm just making up my own way, using what evidence I've found in my research of his mummy. (Very interesting stuff for a history-obessed person such as myself).
Okay, hope you enjoyed it. Please review and make my day. Or week. Or month. Or. . . Okay, you get the point.
PS: Do you know how hard it is to come up with a new nickname for Tutankhamun? I've already used Khep; I've run out of ideas that aren't stealing someone else's or sounding incredibly stupid. The best I could get was Tankh. I NEED IDEAS! PLEASE! HELP! ANYTHING!
Okay, enough of that.
PSS: for those of you who don't speak french, croire means believe. Just FYI.
Okay, I'm going now.
And I'll stop saying okay.