She made a fair point, which he readily acknowledged in a nod. What you say is true. Especially now, with this land so afflicted, and strange magics about! His grin revealed the edge of a tooth.

He opened his mouth to offer her an easy excuse to return to bed, for he'd woken her unfairly, and he thought he would be rude to keep her up beyond the scope of their misadventure. And so her next request caught him utterly off guard —!

An ear flicked back, I - In the dark...? Hotep swallowed, Do you not fear crocodiles might lurk in unlit waters? Or even — very large fish? He still believed the one in the lake of the Cuesta could have eaten him whole, if it had desired! He wondered at Sitamun's courage.

nephthys' devotee almost wished to laugh. but setemhotep's fear was genuine, and so there was only the brief, rejoining glint of her pale tooth as it dug warningly into her own lip. this is not the nile. there are no crocodiles so far from the sun. and fish, can they see as us in the darkness?
a tease, a jest; she did not press.
i was married to the night when i was a young hemet. lightlessness holds no fear for me either. now sitamun did grin, and lifted a strong arm to beckon the sesh. if you will not swim, then watch over me, and we will talk.
courage or foolhardiness, she recognized only her own aim as she swung away from setemhotep and strode into the shadows. one thing they had not revisited was his time as man of holiness -- in some part sitamun saw inside herself a yawning need to speak of her own, seeing as how she too did not retake her place as Wife to the Gods.

Fish see far better! He supplied, They swim in black waters, how could they not? Even so, he took a step forward to follow her out with a steadying inhale, and replied without defensiveness, only personal musing: It is not the lightlessness, only what may lurk in it... Then a smile that was almost teasing, But then, the one I served was day incarnate.

i suppose you are right. i suppose, simply, i do not fear fish of any size. sitamun smirked at the physician as the darkened waters came into view, lapping in some display of shallowness between two pointed stones. a stream, lying as if it were a tangled ribbon against the curtain of misted night.
now the maidservant did experience some trepidation, but she had teased and postured too often now to fall back. the toes of one paw inched into the silent blackness, predictably cold at this hour and in this place.
the sun does not fear the night, and sitamun's eyes gleamed with answering joke. in the next moment, she had splashed quietly down among small reeds, attempting to take the stream's depth before this cold took her back to the surface.
it is not pleasant! came sodden hiss as red crown broke the surface. but it will do to hone the body.

You would if you had beheld such beasts as I! Hotep replied passionately regarding the fish, but there was laughter in it.

When she vanished beneath the waters, he was seized with sudden fearfulness that a crocodile had indeed been lurking, and snatched her with subtle wiles! Or perhaps there was a current he could not see, or a coldness to shock her body into inaction and so drown her!

Sitamun! He hissed, daring to venture closer in hopes of some sign. What could he do if he could not see her!

But then she resurfaced, soaked and shivering, and he allowed himself a deeper inhale. I suppose it is sensible to prepare for the cold that awaits further North. He sat on the bank, dipping a curious toe into the black and withdrawing it with a hiss, For my part I think I will ask the mazoi for a cloak of warm fur from their hunts, instead.

Taunted commentary regarding her peculiar taste in late-night diversion sprang to mind... but of this he held his tongue. Lewdness did not feel entire appropriate, even for an ex-priest to offer an ex-priestess meant in jest.

teeth were a hushed gleam in rejoined smile. sitamun swam a few lengths, using her limbs powerfully, feeling the pull of muscle along her sides and chest. you become accustomed to it, she called gently toward the half-shadow that was setemhotep. then again, i suppose you may need such a fur, traveling beside pharaoh.
sitamun did not know what was wrong with her, that from beneath wet lashes she glanced another time at the physician, appreciating the desert-made lines of him, the elegant, near-delicate beauty that was their lot. he marched like a soldier on the way here. it seems he must remember his training as crown prince. and you at his side.
she bobbed peacefully in the current for a time, moving her forelegs nimbly. it is not so cold now that exercise has warmed me. her eyes closed. we have spoken of many things and of places and of men who were both holy and not. let us speak now as servants, setemhotep.
a light splash. what do you desire? sitamun left the question purposefully vague.

Skill - Orator

Yes, Pharaoh had marched. Each step sure and certain as a young bull grown fresh into its horns. The gleam of black fur groomed to a fine sheen under golden sun, and a body honed to race miles across red sands without tiring rippling underneath. Lips that moved sleek as the ripples of Ra's heat upon the horizon, and a voice of spiced honey. Hotep allowed himself to picture it all again in his mind's eye as Sitamun spoke, and hummed an absent affirmation.

She appraised the water and he scoffed, an appeasement to mark his presence still in the conversation, but the image she had evoked distracted him.

Then she spoke of desire, and he was pulled sharply from his musing.

Hotep blinked. Inhaled. And stared at her briefly again with furrowed brow, making plain his search for the motive in her asking. Had he been meant to think of the words that went unspoken? Did she turn the subtleties of womanhood upon him, in attempt to... ensnare?

No. Not that. He did not believe it of Sitamun. He hoped he did not believe it.

But he remembered the suspicion of an ill-fitting interest in her, once already. And perhaps it was not faded, despite the surfeit of more suitable options easily within her reach. Perhaps she had brought him out here with more than bathing in mind at the first.

He would not allow his voice to assume it. If he was wrong, it might be a great insult. To witness the cosmos restored, to see Satriya prosper, to live to a ripe old age and be weightless before Ma'at, and go on undying without wanting until the Waters wash all and all else away but the two serpents.

His lip quirked, Or did you have a meaning of less broadness in mind?

at the temple it had been a rarity to lie with a priest, an irony that was not wasted on this devotee of Nephthys. and indeed setemhotep remained a priest, for all his focus upon growing things and the treatment of one's body. he had spoken to sitamun of who he was and she had not forgotten it. her own rite was to represent the Lady for every common man, every soldier, every traveller who might wish to feel Her presence for the span of some hours.
holy work. rote work.
setemhotep's answer was even priestly! yet now the sunny eyes seemed to see into sitamun, past her. the maidservant's laugh was surprised and full with delight. you have never looked at me with desire, sesh. hem. if you had, i would have been in your bower long ago. was that what he meant? for the sake of teasing, she was prepared to be incorrect.
a wink, her litheness more pronounced now, as if she had no need to fear. i mean -- once i had thought only to serve the goddess. now i see that i could be more. i want more. how unbefitting for a fellahin. but she did not think setemhotep would judge her. there were paths in satriya to rise, simply not to the place that sitamun had always coveted.
more light splashing as she began a second series of laps.

The blatancy of her confession surprised him enough to affect a twitch of both ears. The shape upon his lips faded slowly, but fade it did into a more guarded bearing — the projection of him again statuesque, fine stone carved and painted in beautiful relief, but offering nothing of itself beneath what had been written by higher powers.

She swam now, which afforded him time to ponder the words.

He had not been excessively pursued by the masses in his life Before, but neither had he been a stranger to advances. Those who wanted his lineage, his authority, his body. Some said he was handsome, though he hesitated to believe flattery at court. Moreover gratitude often manifested desire, and a few mistook the balms he offered them in their vulnerable moments for love of a different kind.

Ultimately, he was not suitable for their desires, whether they realized it or not. Sitamun, perhaps, had fallen into a similar trap.

But she was beautiful, wasn't she? Cultured, amusing, and gentle — eager to rise above bitterness and turn her passions to fruitfulness. Was it not right to find her intoxicating, and wish for entwining, even for a night? Could he not make himself suitable? If he tried?

A question he had asked and answered of others before.

A question that had left much broken in one great challenge to the Truth of it.

These were not Sitamun's weights to bear in any fashion. He would turn his eyes off them, and upon her ambitions instead.

It is not wrong, I think, to work with discipline in some art form, and hope these efforts are rewarded with recognition. He said first, friendly, kind, as always. He remembered then his assessment of the woman Jamila with a fondness for Hathor, and wondered whether prejudice had afflicted him unduly in this regard. Should he be less suspicious of her? More suspicious of Sitamun?

A measured exhale. He wished he did not feel the need to be suspicious at all. That, too, had been carved upon him like hieroglyph.

But I have devoted myself to other pursuits, and have abdicated much authority. What good would my desire do you? Nothing, in fact, which he believed would be self-evident.

for answer, sitamun watched setemhotep. her eyes drew in the line of his cheekbones, the slant of his muzzle. she saw the night held in his eyes, the shadows which half-hid him and made his voice somehow further away in time. body swayed through the shallows, until wet forepaws lifted one by one to set upon the shoreside.
he had become still. she was no longer certain her warmth might break through the rock face of him and stir what was beneath. an idol. a statue. a being made for temples, not the wet chaos of love. i am not disciplined. it was the most constant complaint made against me. her voice was teasing, but her eyes had not left his face, watchful. observant. her lashes did not lid, nor did her eyes grow dreamy as the water in which she swam.
it was the look of a priestess, offered to the heart of a man who was more than her equal.
i was taught to fulfill desire. it is a pleasure of my own. it is how the goddess might visit Her blessing upon a man, though my flesh. in those moments, i am Her, and She has become me, if only for a time. she knew now that she could move setemhotep, perceive in him a response to her words, but it was different altogether.
i knew many priestesses who surrendered their desire to the Lady instead. it was another worship. now sitamun smiled at last, and lifted herself from the stream. they were each fulfilled as i was. if your body belongs to the gods, then it would not be good for either of us that you turned back to what you gave up. the gods gifted those of self-control, of refinement, those who kept true their sacrifice. but she did not need to preach to him, the maidservant decided, swinging away to shake out her fur and set herself to bedraggled rights.