Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Someone has been following him. 

He arrived in Memphis two days ago, travelling upriver from the north and coming in search of the so-called "Lizard"--perhaps an accurate epithet for one belonging to a group of lowly killers. And, like in most every place he travelled to, he found the city embroiled in discontent, a foul taste settling through the streets and causeways.

Whoever was following him had made no moves to interact, and Bayek had not yet had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of their face; only a familiar blue robe skirting behind corners. He had more important matters to attend to. Attempting to help the people of the city without knowing the true cause of all the ailments was no easy task, and required his utmost concentration. The stalker would have to wait for later. He went about his work and ignored the feeling of eyes on his back.

On the third day, he awoke before sunrise, his horse curled beside him. The palm leaves hanging above him lay completely still, and through their fronds the stars peeked through like crystals in the sand.

And the eyes were still watching him.

Slowly he sat himself up, his quiet gaze discreetly scanning the area around him. He had purposefully chosen a place far from the road, surrounded by tall grasses and palm trees, hoping it would obscure him from the sight of any passing soldiers. He'd given a brief thought to the position being used against him--the tall grass being used as cover by soldiers to perform a sneak attack--but figured it unlikely. This unknown stalker, however, had taken advantage of it.

He had not been asleep for long, but certainly long enough that if someone was looking to assassinate him, they would've had ample time to do so. When he woke, the grass made no rustling noise.

They are just watching, he thought. Perhaps waiting for me to do something... incriminating?

He had done many things the Ptolemaic government considered against the law. Though, it wasn't impossible that this hidden stalker came from some unknown third party that was dissatisfied with his actions.

A twig snapped behind him. On instinct he spun, flipping onto his feet and lunging towards the noise. A neck caught in his grasp and a foreign body flopped down with an ungracious umph, warm and soft beneath him. No armour, no braces, no weapons. Little more than linen between his skin and theirs. His eyes adjusted to the flurry of movement in the darkness before dawn, and finally he caught the face of the stalker.

"Please don't hurt me," you pleaded, your voice breaking as you stared wide-eyed up at him.

He flinched at the frailness of your body and your broken voice in combination, a sneer pulling at his lips as he loosened his grip.

"Who are you?" He asked in more of a growl than he intended.

"A friend, I promise," you spluttered. "I've been watching you."

He squeezed his hand around your neck a little tighter.

"I know," he said. "Why?"

"Because -" your voice squeaked, nails digging into his wrist, "I admire what you do. I like - I like to watch your good works."

His brow knotted in confusion, and finally, his hand slipped away from your neck. He shifted back and away from you with a soft grunt.

"There are easier ways to communicate admiration," he grumbled, sitting back down in the spot he cleared to sleep.

Crawling through the tall grass, you took a seat opposite him in the clearing.

You remained quiet for a moment.

"You knew I was following you?" You asked.

"Of course," he said. "You were good at staying hidden, but... it is my job to notice such things."

"Why didn't you do anything?"

He gave a small and vague shrug.

"You were not doing any harm. I have better things to do than assault innocent, interested people." He paused. "What were you hoping to gain from following me, anyway?"

Your expression twisted, a timid warmth spreading through your face as you looked away. Bayek raised an eyebrow.

"You follow me for two days but are too shy to tell me why?" He asked with an amused lilt.

Still, you said nothing.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" He asked, leaning forward.

Finally, you looked up, your face still dark with blush.

"I am Ptahmose," you said.

"I am Bayek of Siwa," he said. "It is good to finally meet you."

"I didn't mean to bother you," you said quickly.

"Yes?" He chuckled. "Then what did you want?"

"I..."

You hesitated, pressing your lips together nervously. A deep breath filled your chest, constricted, and then the words burst from your mouth.

"I want to come with you!"

Bayek straightened immediately.

"You want to what?"

Beyond your unconventional way of approaching him, you were weak-muscled and clearly untrained in combat, if your reaction to him pinning you to the ground was anything to go off of.

"I can be helpful! I can do whatever you need me to do. If you need me to run errands or get food, or back you up as a fighter -"

Bayek had to hold back a laugh, which was no difficult task.

"It is a dangerous life. You are much safer staying here, with your family," he interrupted, unable to help the amused smile on his face.

You groaned sharply, looking away again.

"You do have a family, do you not?" He asked.

"I do," you grumbled. "But - but I am not allowed to do anything. I just want to be helpful! I've seen how kind you are, how you help everyone you can. I want to be a part of that."

"You can help people around you without joining my cause. The world needs more kind people in every place, doing the small deeds they are able," he said softly, resting a hand on your shoulder.

"My father tells me I cannot be of any use," you mumbled, staring at the dirt.

"Your father is wrong. Every person who follows Ma'at is valuable. My path is a dangerous one, and I would not always be able to protect you. Ptolemy's phylakitai hunt me, and I am often needed in places I should not be. Trust me, Ptahmose. You are better off here."

You mumbled something beneath your breath. Bayek tilted his head curiously, leaning in a little further.

"Nothing. Are you sure you won't even let me try?" You asked, turning to look up at him with pleading eyes.

"I do not want to see another innocent person hurt."

The broken expression on your face cut him to his heart. He looked away, a twinge of guilt in his downturned lips, and silently debated the risk of bringing you along on his latest errand. It seemed a simple enough mission, and you were fairly quiet--if you retained your stealthiness, you might be able to slip by the guards alongside him.

Against his better judgement, he began to speak.

"Perhaps... you can come with me this morning. I am to find a man who tastes bread for one of the local bakeries in the market. He has been arrested," he said.

"Oh, thank you! What was he arrested for?" You ask, your eyes suddenly gleaming with excitement. 

You shifted quickly onto your knees, gripping his forearm like a child leaning over the railing of a bridge. Bayek laughed awkwardly and answered.

"He didn't pay his taxes," he said.

You shrugged and nodded.

"I suppose I would do the same if my family were poor in these times," you said.

He hummed.

"It is a simple enough task. Teta, the baker, said he is being held by the soldiers. I think the most difficult part will be finding where they are keeping him in the city."

"I know my way around the city, I can help you," you said with a smile.

He chuckled, albeit somewhat weakly.

"I am counting on it."

He was not, but the way your smile shone was worth the small, white lie.

At daybreak he sent Senu, his eye in the sky, up to survey the city in hopes of finding an imprisoned Egyptian. Beside him, you watched in awe as he communicated with the eagle in soft strokes and murmured words before she spread her wings and disappeared into the looming clouds.

"It's so fascinating. Where did you meet this bird?" You asked once she was gone.

"That is a long story, and for another day. For now I want you to keep quiet and do as I say. If I tell you to run, you run. Yes?" He said with complete sternness.

You nodded, curt and strong, smiling up at him with your lips pressed tight together in silence. He gave a much smaller, uncertain nod in return.

"Good."

Bayek had fought alongside others many times in his life, and performed missions of stealth alongside others too. To be in charge of the group, however, was somewhat rare. As a leader, one needed to know the strengths and weaknesses of each party member, and be able to correctly utilize this knowledge. Bayek had no such knowledge of you, with his only piece of information being that you were stealthy and that your name was Ptahmose.

Things quickly devolved. You aided in finding and identifying the taster, but your help had only expedited a process that would've eventually come to fruition through Senu's help. When the two of you finally reached the man, you immediately jumped off Bayek's horse with all the eagerness of a newborn kitten, leapt onto the moving cage, and began to hack at the wood with the small knife Bayek gave you. Bayek shouted but it was too late--not only did you alert the guards transporting the taster, but you had not waited till they cleared the area of the nearby Ptolemy camp. The guard's shouts alerted the nearby forces and suddenly Bayek was surrounded by Greek soldiers. Fortunately, when he barked at you to take the taster and run, you did not argue. Bayek dispatched of several soldiers before leaping into the water nearby to escape, knowing pure numbers did not favour him in such combat.

When he returned to the baker, however, you were nowhere to be found. The baker reported that she still had not yet seen her taster, and with an irritated hiss, Bayek left in search of you. He sent Senu off to search the city, but even with her eyes he could not find you.

His only redeeming trait, he thought begrudgingly, is that he is impossible to find when he does not want to be found.

In the sweet-scented darkness of evening, he returned to where you had first freed the taster. He wandered the road for only a minute before a hissing sound called from the bushes, and with a furrowed brow, he approached.

"Bayek! I am so glad to see you," you laughed.

You were crouched in the bushes right on the side of the road, the old taster lying on his back beside you.

"What are you doing?!" He hissed, bending down to grab the cloth draped over your chest and meet your face.

"Sasobek can't stand, and he's very heavy. I couldn't bring him very far," you said quickly, your eyes wide.

Bayek practically threw you to the ground and instead grabbed the taster, hauling him to his feet.

"You cannot walk?" He asked stiffly.

"No, I am too weak even to stand!" The man said.

Bayek cringed backwards, but made a small attempt to stifle his reaction. He had searched the length and width of the city from early morning till deep evening and you had been here the entire time, waiting.

He had to admire the commitment. Still, annoyance won out for now.

"Come on," Bayek said with a grunt, lifting the man onto his back. "I will take you back to your baker."

"Oh, thank you! My beloved Teta! I can hardly breathe without her. She is my strength!"

You followed behind, and the three of you headed off to the market.

"Is Teta... aware of your feelings for her?" Bayek asked, and ignored your quiet giggle from behind.

"No, not yet," Sasobek moaned. "I have not yet been brave enough to tell her. But I promise, I will tell her upon our return!"

"Really? What caused the change of heart?"

He grunted softly and shifted the man's heavy weight on his shoulders.

"Such dangers have opened my eyes. Imagine if I had disappeared without knowing the sweet touch of her lips! Also, your partner Ptahmose had some... hand in convincing me," he said cryptically.

"I told him life is short and love is worth fighting for. You know, there is a saying from the New Kingdom. None who leave the earth return to it. None who enter Osiris' arms ever come back. So it is best to live your life fruitfully, not hiding behind your own fears," you said.

"It is a good saying. You say it is from the New Kingdom?" Bayek asked.

"Well... a paraphrasing of a quote, anyway. I read it a long time ago," you chuckled.

After winding through narrow alleys and lingering on the edge of wide, open streets, you passed through the old archway into the abandoned temple-turned-market. There stood Teta, yelling out her advertisements as she typically did. Upon spotting Bayek, who noticeably stood out for his larger build, and who only stood out more due to the body on his shoulders, she leased a shout of joy.

Their reunion was a happy one, though made slightly awkward by Sasobek's sudden confession. More sinister was the emerging information from Sasobek regarding poisoned bread delivered to Lady Taimhotep from their bakery. Hearing this plot, Bayek hurried off without much thought, and practically jumped when you appeared beside him.

He stopped dead in the street.

"What do you think you are doing?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Following you...?" You said, growing more unsure with each passing second.

"Oh, no. I told you you could come along for one of my errands. That's it. This one is far more dangerous and you have already proven your ability to turn a simple mission into a deadly one. You are going home, wherever that is," he said, and pointed off in a random direction down the street.

"I am sorry about last time. I acted without thinking. I promise it won't happen again!" You begged with hands knit together as though in prayer. "I'll just follow you, you know I can be quiet, and if you need me I'll be there. You'll just have to say. I won't do anything without you telling me to!"

Bayek groaned, rubbing his face tiredly with the palm of his hand.

You were brave, certainly. Perhaps a little foolishly so. And so ardent in your desire to help him. You had stayed crouched in the grass nearly 12 hours, diligently waiting for him.

He bit his lip, glanced down at you, and groaned again, this time internally. You were staring up at him with those pleading eyes again.

One more try won't kill me, he thought. But it might kill him.

"Alright, fine. One more time. But you have to promise me to go home after this," he said.

Again, your expression lit up like Khepri's first rays. You beamed at him and nodded.

Please Amun, don't lead me to regret this.

The poisoned cakes were kept in a storeroom in the Memphis Barracks, past rows and rows of guards and soldiers. Fortunately, the building they were kept in had a large opening in the ceiling, and from there Bayek watched as the guards changed watch. True to your word, you kept entirely silent, creeping up to Bayek's side.

He glanced at you.

"You stay here, alright?" He said, meeting your eye as he jumped and hung from the ceiling's edge. "Don't move and don't make a sound."

"Yes, master Medjay," you said with a smile.

"Don't call me that," he said flatly, and dipped below the horizon of the roof.

With expert silence, Bayek slunk down the nearest pillar and behind the half-walls, where below him lay large jars of bread and cakes. First, however, action required him to dispense of the guards, as the loud noise would alert them. There was the problem of the soldiers beyond the two guarding the food storehouse, but if they happened to hear, it would take them longer to reach him. He briefly thought of tasking you with the responsibility of distracting the guards in some way or another, but quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, he called for Senu to bother one of the guards while he dispatched with the other, before knocking out the next one, till both lay prone in the tall grass nearby.

Keeping low to the ground, he returned to the pots and jars, and one by one destroyed them. When he finished, he jumped back up the pillars, clutching to little cracks by his fingertips until he stood upon the roof once more. 

Panting, he looked up and caught sight of a hair-raising moment. A soldier must've noticed your presence--perhaps you were standing too close to the building's edge--and now stood above you, his blade raised to cut clean through your head.

Bayek leased a shout, something between 'no', and 'stop', but otherwise completely unintelligible. Leaping forward, he unsheathed his khopesh, and in a swift motion struck the soldier in the back. You rolled out of the way as the soldier's sword rang down on the temple stone. He whipped around, and for a short moment Bayek and the soldier were embroiled in combat, before Bayek whirled behind him, grabbed him by his hair, and slit his neck. The soldier's body dropped limp to the ground.

His chest was still heaving when he approached you, grabbing your hand to pull you to your feet.

"You alright?" Bayek asked quietly.

"Yes, quite fine," you said, smiling despite the small tremble in your voice.

He gave a curt nod, and by the grace of Amun, the two of you left the barracks without any further complications.

~+~

Cleopatra was an interesting woman. Strict, somewhat harsh, and yet she willingly made a lure out of her own sexuality. A daring combination, but the future Queen composed it together in harmony. More centered in his mind than his interactions with Cleopatra, however, was the death of the priest Hetepi and the departure of his wife, Aya. He had hoped to spend more time with her, but the moment the festival ended she was gone, reciting her duty and her need to serve the Queen.

Bayek moved slowly through the streets, his head low, and thoughts heavy with these matters. He had little business left in Memphis, and would soon be turning to more pressing matters in distant cities. Donkey and oxen carts passed him by, shaded by tall buildings and slowly swaying palm trees, but little of these details entered his mind more than superficially. 

What does Cleopatra offer that I do not give?

"Bayek? Bayek!"

He looked around with wide blinking eyes, but with one more call of his name he found the source.

You were sitting on a tall balcony, your legs dangling over the side as you waved at him. Stumbling to your feet, you suddenly disappeared in the door behind you, before reappearing a moment later at the entrance of an enclosed property. The red enclosure walls had been freshly painted, and beyond, a number of acacias and sycamores grew, surrounding the noble home.

"Ptahmose?" He said, raising a brow. "This is where you live?"

It was a spectacularly nice home, smelling of flowers and incense, with verandas covered in creeping vines and large, open balconies where ornate sets of furniture sat. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the senet board decorated with faience and standing on carved lion's claws.

"Yes, come in! There is plenty of food and drink," you said, waving him in.

He glanced up and down the street, as though being seen entering such a house would get him arrested, but gingerly conceded to your request.

Your home was warmly lit, well furnished, and in the back of the property, even had its own storage for wine, beer, and bread. A small shrine was carved into the wall of the main room, painted with hieroglyphs, and housed a statue of Tawaret. Bayek's eyes dragged across these details as you led him up to the balcony, and came to the conclusion that you were certainly far better off here than you would be with him.

You sat him down on a red carpet, and from there, between the railings of the porch, could you watch the city as Atum turned red and sank beneath the western mountains. Long shadows stretched across the buildings and streets, and everywhere an orange glow gilded the edges of trees and towers.

"Here," you said, and poured him a cup of wine.

He looked down and finally noticed a low table in front of you, filled with bundles of dates and sweet bread, as well as a pitcher and two cups.

"Thank you," he said quietly when you handed one to him. He sipped, waited a moment, then spoke. "To be honest, I did not expect you to live like this."

"Lavishly, you mean?" You said with a chuckle. "Did my clothing not give it away?"

Now that he thought about it, your linens were cleaner than most he saw––and dyed a spectacularly vibrant blue.

"I suppose," he mumbled, and took another sip. "You have a very comfortable life here. Why did you want to come with me?"

"There are more important things in life than being comfortable," you said, quickly followed by, "does this mean I can come with you?"

"Eh... no," he said, and chuckled at the pout on your lips.

"Oh."

You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin atop one.

"I appreciate your willingness to help me, and your dedication. You have a strong ka. But... you are not a very good fighter in combat. I cannot protect myself and you all the time," he said.

"I understand," you mumbled half-miserably.

You took a sip of your drink, picked up a rock the size of your palm, and hurled it over the railing. Bayek casually watched its' course sail across the street, over the heads of passersby, and into a pomegranate tree growing on the corner of the intersection. With a hard tock, one of the ripe pomegranates fell from the tree onto the street. 

Bayek's eyes widened. 

Meanwhile, you picked up another rock--this one smaller--and repeated the action, causing another pomegranate to fall to the road.

"How did you do that?" He asked, whipping his head to face you.

You paused.

"Do what? The... the fruit?" You asked uncertainly.

"You have very precise aim. Why didn't you mention this before? Have you ever shot a bow?"

"No, I've never even held one," you said with a small shrug.

He pursed his lips, looked away, and dipped into his thoughts. Having an archer with aim like yours to back him up would certainly turn up useful in many situations. He would have to teach you some basic self-defense, though––that would take time and effort. For a minute or two he weighed the positive and negative sides of such a deal.

"You... are aware that I kill people, yes?" He asked tentatively.

"Well, yes,"  you said. "Do you want to get the fruit now?"

His brows furrowed.

"What?"

"The pomegranates." You stood. "I'll be right back."

For a moment you disappeared, then reappeared on the street. You jogged across its' width, gathered the pomegranates in your arms, and entered the estate to return to Bayek's side. Pulling a bowl from the nearby table, you cracked open one of the pomegranates and began to extract the seeds.

He waited, watching in silence and wondering if this was something he could offer. It would be willingly risking your life. It was his decision.

"How much would you be willing to endure if you came with me?" He asked, carefully observing your reaction.

"In truth?" You asked, and he nodded solemnly. "I feel it is my duty to help Egypt. I have wanted to all my life and have never had the chance." Your hands stopped moving, falling still for all but the juice dripping slowly from your fingertips. "My father prefers to keep me away."

He furrowed his brows. You brought this up several times, but Bayek didn't see a reason why your father would act in such a way. His curiosity bubbled over.

"Why does your father treat you in such a way?" He asked, his tone sharp.

You stared at him, your brows raised.

"You cannot tell?" You asked, blinking.

"... should it be obvious?"

A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a laugh.

"I was born sekhet. It is a very rare formation of the body. Usually someone is made to be sekhet sometime in their life. I was born as one."

This did not clear much up for him. He tilted his head curiously.

Your face darkened, lips pursing as your back straightened.

"Do I really have to explain it to you in detail?" You asked, a stiff whine in your voice.

"That would be helpful."

You took in a sharp breath, looked away, then refocused on him.

"I was born with... everything," you said, gesturing vaguely between your legs.

He paused. Surely not.

"... everything?" He asked slowly.

"I'm not going to show you," you hissed, your face now a dark red.

"I don't expect you to!" He said quickly, leaning away.

"Okay. I just - people have very complex reactions to me. I wasn't sure... um, anyway. I always wanted to be a priest, to serve the Gods and Egypt. But I am not right to be a high priest or a chantress. My father is a priest and has always shut down my recommendation to apprentice any position within the temple. Helping you feels like it may fulfill this desire to help the people of Egypt, in some way."

He hummed and mulled over your confession.

If what you said was true--and with your confession, he figured it indeed was--then there truly was little you could do in your current position, barred from movement by your father. Again his mind returned to your perfect aim and how little training it would take to make you a good bowman, if not a great one.

"Would you be willing to listen to me when I tell you to do something, even if you do not understand why I may ask it?" He asked somberly, holding your gaze.

"Of course," you said, wide-eyed.

"I would need to train you. It will not be easy and you will not enjoy it."

"I know," you said, leaning forward with a burning intensity in your expression. "I can endure it."

He raised his chin.

"Have you considered what your father might think? He may not want you to leave."

"I am not telling him. I am his eldest, yes, but eldest of six. To be honest... it would take him a long time to notice my absence," you said.

This he wasn't sure was the truth with the way you looked askance, lashes obscuring your eyes. Still, it had been made absolutely clear to him that you did want this and understand at least some of the ramifications of such a choice.

He let out a deep sigh and looked away, slowly scanning over the sunset-red houses of Memphis. The decision twisted round in his brain as a snake constricting in on itself, till the beast was unrecognizable. 

"Alright, fine," he finally said, grumbling unintelligibly to even himself as he cast his eye to his sandals.

Beside him, you gasped, and behind his eyes he could perfectly imagine your delighted grin. He shook his head and quickly turned to you.

"But you must always listen to me. And we will have to train you to use a bow. It will not be easy," he warned, gesturing with his hand.

"I understand." You nodded vigorously. "Thank you so much, Bayek!"

You jumped forward, arms extended, and wrapped yourself around Bayek, burying his head in your chest. He grunted at the impact and laughed nervously, his face warm as he gingerly pulled you away from him.

"Get yourself ready to go. There is someone I must visit."

You were already scrambling to your feet.

"Yes, master Medjay!" You said as you disappeared into the house.

"I told you not to call me that!" He called after you.

Chapter Text

You held up relatively well. Although clearly exhausted just from the runs he set you off on, you returned to him by the day's end, each time panting and heaving and smiling like the Gods had blessed you. It was a good way to keep you out of his business until you were strong and skilled, and you didn't really seem to mind. True to your word, you did as you were told.

"There's a lot of crocodiles along the bank here," you reported, still bending down panting.

"Sprinting is good practice for you. I see you made it out alive," he said with a teasing smile.

"Barely," you laughed. "What were your good works today, Medjay?"

Your daily question. He tried his best to entertain you. He had yet to wonder why he wanted to entertain you.

"I attended to a Seer. He told me of a statue sunk deep in the Nile, near the temple of Ramses. Have you seen it?" He asked, looking down at you as the two of you headed west to your camp.

"The sunken temple?" You repeated. "Well, not really. I haven't ever been down in that area during Shemu. I have seen the tops of the pillars but nothing else."

"Mmm. It is beautiful, but deep in the river in this season. Yet tangled among the tall grasses are still many hidden treasures... true to the Seer's word, I found an image of Khnum resting deep beneath the shifting waters. I dove deep... so deep I thought I might lose my breath entirely to Hapi's enormity. But I did manage to grasp that statue, and I kicked off the river's floor. Taking my first breath of air was almost painful with how long I'd held it."

You laughed, eyes creasing with joy, and he smiled.

"I returned Khnum to the Seer. I think he was quite happy to see Him."

"Why did he want it?" You asked curiously.

"It was for a special ritual..." he paused, wondering if he ought to divulge. "... for my visions."

"Visions?" You repeated. Your voice grew soft. "What kind of visions?"

"I, ah... suppose I will tell you another time," he said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. "There is much about me you do not know. You should, if we are to work together." He cleared his throat after a moment. "But today I have a surprise for you, so we will talk about it later."

"A surprise?"

Your eyes widened, energy creeping back into you.

"You like surprises?" He asked, raising a brow.

"It depends on the surprise, doesn't it?" You grinned. "But I trust your surprises will be good fun. Or at least beneficial."

He glanced away with a sly look.

"Something like that," he said. 

A hot breeze with dust on its' tail blew in from the western desert. Beneath you, sand churned with your footsteps, and each one grew heavier as the wind strengthened. Raising his arm, Bayek shaded his eyes against the setting sun, and watched the western sand blow in over the mountains.

"Do you think it is a storm?" You asked, stopping as he stopped.

"I think it will pass soon enough... but we should hurry. The worst of it is not yet here."

With that, the two of you hastened your pace. Limbs wore themselves and stretched with each push forward, till at last the mountain's height blocked the worst of the winds from pushing against your bodies. By then, both the clouds and stone blocked out the majority of the sun's light––but behind you, it continued to stretch over the vast length of the river and Memphis nearby. Above, a shadowed crevice bid you welcome.

Bayek climbed and you followed after, and after casting one last glance behind your shoulder, you slipped into the fracture behind him.

Darkness black as coal enveloped you, along with the scent of dry hay, old carpets, and carved wood. Beside you, Bayek's torch flickered to life. All at once dancing light filled the stone room.

You smiled up at him, and when he finished setting the torch in its' place along the wall, he looked at you and smiled, as well.

"You have a keen eye for hideouts, Ptahmose," he said, stepping past you as he began to take off the bulkiest of his gear. "I do wonder if it is only because you have lived here so long. It would be a shame to lose such an advantage when we travel."

"Well," you thought for a moment, "I can certainly spot a good place. But there's no guarantee that place doesn't already have an occupant. Say, a lion. Or a soldier."

"That is the most important part to see." He grunted as he sat down. "I will try to teach you how to see it."

"So..." you sat beside him, scooting closer, "what's the surprise?"

He chuckled, his face warming as though he'd been standing in the sun for an hour.

"Very well."

At last, he reached over his shoulder and pulled the new bow off. Sitting amongst all his gear, he was assured you wouldn't notice it, as your eye was not yet keen enough to see such minute details. Just as he assumed, your eyes widened, mouth opening around a gasp as he handed the bow to you.

You took it with the most gentle hands he'd ever seen and his heart almost fractured at your fragility.

"It..." you began, but Bayek's insecurity got the best of him, and he quickly interrupted.

"It is not the best quality bow, but it is yours. I thought... it would be better for you to have something to practice with that is your own," he said, trailing off into a mumble.

"Oh... thank you, Bayek!" You said, jumping to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He let out an awkward laugh, gingerly reciprocating your embrace. When you withdrew, he begged for the warmth in his face to dissipate, and hoped that in the dim light you didn't notice anything amiss. Fortunately, you seemed far too taken with your bow. Bayek cleared his throat, rubbing at his bicep with his thumb.

"Uh, you will need to learn how to hold the bow before you ever shoot anything," he warned as you began to faux aim it at the wall.

You lowered the bow, turning to him.

"Will you show me now?"

He thought about directing you--about the warmth of your body against his, skin contrasting bare skin. Raising and shifting your limbs into position, pressing his eye to yours to see through your vision.

He thought of how his skin flushed and how it shouldn't do that.

He swallowed. You were awaiting his answer with bright, expectant eyes.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Let's eat first."

Old amphorae of beer were opened to go with the bread Bayek brought from the market, courtesy of Teta. You mostly ate in silence, with you only making scant mentions of little things you saw throughout the day, and him commenting with the appropriate approval or interest. A grove of lotuses so thick it looked like a field. Trees with ripe fruits that you brought back, but were in your bag, so you would 'get them later'. A flock of birds thick enough to cast a shadow on the ground.

Bayek could think of why he wanted to entertain you, or why his face warmed when you embraced him. He elected not to. He did not have the time to delve into such things, he reasoned. Deep in his heart, the answer rung like a quiet bell, and he did not want to acknowledge the reason. 

It was too much.

He thought of Aya and his heart ached. He did not finish his food.

When you were done, you immediately stood, grabbing your new bow and holding it out with a stiff, stick-straight arm. He chuckled softly and stood.

"It can take a great weight to pull a bowstring. You will not want to lock your elbow like this. Strengthen your arm, instead," he instructed, grabbing your arm and bending the elbow just slightly.

You nodded, made a small noise, and shifted on your feet again.

"Your feet are too wide. They should only be as wide as your shoulders." He circled you. "They are facing me, which is good. You can direct them outwards a little more if you feel unstable."

"When will I get to shoot arrows?"

Bayek laughed, and the sound drew your attention away from your faux aiming; instead, you looked up at him, an oddly neutral but keen expression on your face.

"Perhaps tomorrow, when the weather is more suitable. Or perhaps in a week, if you keep being impatient," he chuckled slyly.

"Alright, alright. What else am I doing wrong?" You said, directing your attention back to the bow.

"Actually," he looked you up and down, "you look pretty good. Let me lead you through the process a little."

He proceeded to explain how to draw an arrow from a bow--to notch it first before aiming, to pull the string more with your back muscles than your arms.

He did not indulge, did not step closer than necessary, did not linger on the scent of your still-perfumed hair that would soon smell of a permanent fire smoke. He directed you as he should.

You slept along the far wall, your feet facing him and your stomach pressed into the floor.

Now, only the light of the moon illuminated the cavern, creeping through the crack in the wall. Bayek was meant to be sleeping, too. The next day would be a long stretch of travel westward, and he doubted your accommodations then would be half as comfortable as they were now. Fortunately, you were asleep and would probably sleep well the rest of the night. But Bayek found his heart full of thoughts, bringing him to a deep meditation as he sat with his back to the wall.

With a final, penetrating breath, he steeled his desire and strengthened his heart.

I am the steward of my son's ka. 

I am the husband of Aya, a Medjay.

The Faiyum, nest of the Crocodile, would be the next to know his blade.