Work Text:
Ahm Shere ripples and disappears into the tan expanse of the desert. A phantom pain stabs through Evy’s abdomen, a reminder of her death at the hands of Anck-Su-Namun.
But she is gone, Imhotep returned to the afterlife, and the world is saved once again. Izzy steers the dirigible towards freedom. Alex collapses against his Uncle Jonathan, both dozing off as the adrenaline fades. The Spear of Osiris remains tucked against Jonathan’s chest, like a child with a teddy bear.
Rick curls a possessive arm around Eve, and presses a kiss to her temple. He’s always been physically affectionate, but there’s desperation in his actions now.
Evy’s seen heaven. Scripture doesn’t do it justice. Yet her heaven is right here in Rick’s arms — almost. A piece is still missing.
A single black horse dashes among the dunes below. Its rider glances up, the tattoos on his face visible in spite of the distance between them, curly black locks falling to his shoulders. He kisses his fingers, then presses them to his brow, a salute in the form of goodbye.
Evy’s heart clenches. After her brush with death, she can’t stand the thought of losing someone else. “We can’t leave him,” she whispers to Rick.
Ardeth Bay left the O’Connells once, in the desert, in the wake of Hamunaptra. Perhaps Ardeth believes his life among the sand isn’t compatible with theirs in archeology. Evy knows, in her heart, that the opposite is true.
Fate forces their paths to cross for a reason. She can’t let Ardeth escape a second time.
Rick’s brow creases in thought. He squeezes Evy to him like a lifeline. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “We ought to thank him for helping us save the world. And, you know, rescuing Alex.”
She gazes at her son, sound asleep against Jonathan. Ardeth could be an uncle of sorts to the boy, a role model, a friend. But he’s more than that to Evy — a warrior, a confidant. She’s only ever felt like this for one other person, and her love for Rick burns just as strong.
“It’s more than that,” she murmurs. When she looks at Ardeth, the same love, the same desire, burns through her as when she meets Rick’s eyes. Evy never thought she could experience such intense emotion with two separate people. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
Rick lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “If you mean that he’s more important than just a friend, of course.”
“He’s family,” she says.
“He’s ours,” Rick points out, plain and simple. Leave it to her husband to put her incoherent thoughts into plain, simple words. “We should get him.”
So she nods and slips from Rick’s grasp to take his hand instead. Izzy anchors the helm, only to jump as the O’Connells approach.
“No, no, no, I don’t want to hear it!” Izzy flails at them. “I don’t care what you want. Every time I do business with you” — he glares at Rick — “I get shot!”
“You didn’t get shot in the ass this time,” Rick mutters. “That should count for something.”
“They shot at my face instead!”
“Izzy.” Evy lays a hand on the pilot’s arm. “You saved our lives, and we’ll never be able to repay you for that.”
“You do owe me,” Izzy reminds her.
“Of course,” Evy assures him. “All I’m asking is for you to change where you drop us off.”
Izzy blinked. “You’re not headed back to Cairo?”
“Eventually.” And then to their home in England, her job at the British Museum, and her work with the Bembridge Scholars. But all that can wait until they’ve seen Ardeth. “We will arrange for our own transportation after that.”
His eyes eyes drift across the deck of the dirigible to where Jonathan sleeps, clutching the Spear. “He owes me that gold thingy,” Izzy says.
“I’ll pay you twice that,” Evy counters. Even she isn’t willing to steal her brother’s treasure, knowing what lengths he’d go to in order to get it back.
Izzy considers this. “On top of my original fee?”
“Of course.” She doesn’t hesitate.
“And he” — another death glare at Rick — “won’t shoot me?”
Rick throws his hands up in surrender. “I’m not gonna shoot my friends.”
Evy hides a chuckle behind her hand. Her husband’s trigger finger is infamous, and she won’t have him any other way. She turns pleading eyes to Izzy. “Please?” she asks. “We’d forever be in your debt.”
“Well…” Izzy hems and haws. “I guess. For double.”
“Thank you!” Evy throws her arms around Izzy’s neck. He stumbles, patting her back as if he’s never been hugged before.
With their ride secured, Evy leans over the side of the dirigible. Ardeth rides below his horse kicking up sand in his wake. She reaches a hand towards him, but he continues on, unaware he’s being tailed.
Soon, she reminds herself. They’ll see Ardeth soon.
The Medjai set up a temporary camp near where the Battle of Anubis took place. Izzy touches down on the outskirts and shoos them off the dirigible, ranting about payment and favors. Rick pays Izzy for his trouble while Evy gathers Jonathan and a sleepy Alex. Facing a mummy and saving the world takes a lot out of a boy.
A guard rides up to them. His tattoos are similar to Ardeth’s, hair hidden under his headscarf. “Who approaches our sanctuary?” he asks.
Alex lifts his head from Evy’s shoulder. “You’re awfully stuffy to your friends,” the boy mutters.
Evy kisses Alex’s temple. He’s nearly too big to carry, but after all they’ve been through, she needs this connection. “I’m Evelyn O’Connell,” she says, “along with my husband, Rick, son Alex, and my brother, Jonathan Carnahan.” It’s the first time she’s formally met another Medjai. She remembers the raid on Hamunaptra, and the attack on the boat, but these are not their enemies. Hopefully Ardeth speaks highly of them to his men.
“What she said.” Jonathan jerks a thumb towards Evy.
The guard bows his head to her. “We are in your debt, Mrs. O’Connell,” he says. “How may the Medjai serve you?”
In a flash, she remembers the golden halls of Seti’s court, the clang of her weapons against Anck-Su-Namun’s. She may have only glimpsed Nefertiri’s life in visions, but Evy knows the truth in her bones. She is half-Egyptian and the Medjai’s bloodline is strong in her still. These are her people.
Ardeth is Evy’s too. She needs only to speak with him to confirm it.
“We’re looking for Ardeth Bay,” Rick says from behind her, in English. “This is the only settlement for miles. He’d have to stop here.”
“Of course.” The guard’s words are accented and stilted, but Evy appreciates the effort. Teaching Rick Arabic is a task for another day, though she knows he understands more than he admits. “The commander has recently returned. I will tell him he has company.”
She bows back to the guard, a sign of respect. “Thank you.”
The guard ushers them into the encampment. Tents line either side of the worn dirt path. One is a medical tent; a wounded Medjai sits outside, as if waiting for his turn to be seen. Evy wonders how she can help, but she’s trained in history and archeology, not medicine. Other Medjai wander between tents, check in with friends, care for the horses.
There are fewer Medjai than Ardeth said there would be. Their sacrifice to stop the Army of Anubis will not be forgotten, yet they welcome the O’Connells with open arms. In a way, it feels akin to coming home.
Pausing before the largest tent, the guard opens its flap and waves them inside. A miniature war room awaits, a long table in the center covered in maps and notes. Ardeth stands at the head of the table, hair hanging limp, circles under his eyes. His robes are dusty from his ride and torn in places — evidence of a warrior who continues to fight even after the enemy vanishes, literally.
Warm brown eyes lift to meet Evy’s. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth before concern takes over. “Evelyn,” Ardeth murmurs, heat wrapped around every syllable. “Rick.”
She can’t remember if Ardeth has ever called Rick by his first name before. She can’t linger on it before the guard interrupts. “They have just arrived,” he says. “I figured it best to bring them straight to you.”
“Thank you, Hasan.” To Evy, Ardeth asks, “Has something happened? Another sign of the Army of Anubis?”
“No.” With the death of the Scorpion King and the collapse of Ahm Shere, the Army is a legend once more. The only ones who know the truth are in this camp. Yet, now that she’s standing before Ardeth, her reasoning for interrupting his leadership and his people’s recovery seems trivial. “We wanted to see how we can help in the wake of the battle.”
Behind her, Jonathan snorts. Rick elbows him.
“And…” Evy bites her lip. “We wanted to see you.”
Ardeth tilts his head, studying her. “You are exhausted from your own battle,” he says, gently. “You must care for yourself first.”
“For our family first,” Evy corrects. “Which… encompasses more than than just us.” She licks her lips, the words on the tip of her tongue: You’re part of our family too, Ardeth.
Rick steps into Evy’s back. “Don’t think you can just ride off into the sunset like you’re the only hero,” he says.
“Yet you require care as well.” Ardeth glances over their ragtag crew, all of them dirty, exhausted, and worn. “I will find you a tent for you to rest. Hasan?”
The guard steps forward. “Yes, Commander?”
“I trust you can find accommodations for our fellow warriors? Including a cot for the boy.”
“And food!” Jonathan pipes up. “And booze, if you’ve got it.”
“Jonathan,” both Rick and Evy groan in unison.
Hasan the guard bows his head. “I will do what I can,” he promises as he leaves, the tent flap fluttering in his wake.
“Here.” Evy passes Alex into Jonathan’s arms. Jonathan flounders, but Alex wraps his legs around his uncle’s waist and snuggles in. Even Jonathan can’t say no to that. “You get Alex down and Rick and I will join you soon.”
With Hasan, Jonathan, and Alex gone, the only thing between the O’Connells and Ardeth is the war table. Evy sidesteps while Ardeth comes around, until they’re standing face to face. Rick follows. Heat radiates from both men, rivaling the bright desert sun.
Up close, Evy notices the details she ignored in the face of the apocalypse: the stubble dusting Ardeth’s chin, the fine embroidery of his robes. Her hands clench at her sides, wanting to touch, not knowing if she is welcome.
“What is it I can do for you, Evelyn?” Ardeth’s voice is like silk, the opposite of Rick’s impulsive sarcasm. “Know that I will provide it, if it is within my power.”
Her first thought is simple: Don’t go. Don’t disappear into the desert again. She breathes deep to steady herself. “It hardly seems fair,” Evy says, “that we only see you when the world is about to end.”
“It is the duty of the Medjai.” Ardeth spreads his hands before him. Rough workers’ hands, similar to Rick’s, but with longer fingers.
Evy imagines those fingers moving within her. She squeezes her thighs against the sudden desire, but it does nothing to ease the ache. Nor had she expected this reaction — she’s seen Ardeth before, fought alongside him, yet now he’s revealed to her in a different light.
So she licks her lips and keeps her naughty thoughts to herself — for now. “What about your duty to your friends?” she asks. “To your family?”
Ardeth’s brow creases. He swallows, hard. “Friends? I have no family other than my fellow Medjai.”
“We’re more than saviors of the world, if that’s what you’re asking.” Evy gestures to Rick. “You share the same tattoo on your wrist, marking you both as Medjai. I have glimpsed pieces of my past life, where I took up the mantle of a protector as well.” She runs her fingers over her wrist. She’ll get the tattoo to match her boys, she decides. Evy also loves calling Rick and Ardeth “her boys.”
“The point remains,” Evy continues, “that I cannot walk away from here — from you — knowing we might never see you again.” Putting it like that, it seems selfish. Ardent has an entire community to worry about, to care for. It’s a lot to ask him to stop, to focus on her, on Rick, or even himself instead.
Ardeth studies her. She wants to touch him, run her fingers through his hair, assure herself that he’s alright. This is their prize for surviving Ahm Shere and the Army of Anubis: a conversation that’s long overdue.
“Oh, hell,” Rick mutters behind her. It’s their only warning before Rick crosses the gap between them, grabs Ardeth by the back of the neck, and kisses him.
To Evy’s surprise, Ardeth doesn’t pull away. He groans into Rick’s mouth, wrapping a hand around Rick’s gun holster. Both men pant heavily as they finally break apart.
“That,” Rick says, “is what Evy’s getting at. Right, honey?” He flashes Evy a grin over his shoulder.
Seeing the two men she loves — it’s the only word she has to match the fire inside her — kiss does nothing to temper Evy’s own desire. “Rick isn’t one for being subtle,” she says, “but yes. We care for you as much more than a friend.”
She steps between the two men, her body facing Ardeth, Rick’s warmth at her back. “We can talk logistics after,” Evy says. “But for now…” Delicate fingers trace a line over Ardeth’s exposed sternum, peeking through his robes. “It’s not wrong to celebrate the fact that we’re here and we’re alive.”
Evy rises on her toes, watching Ardeth’s eyes for a sign to tell her to stop. He doesn’t. So she kisses him too, softer than Rick, but with no less passion. Whereas Rick is impulsive, demanding, Ardeth kisses her like a wine to be savored: deep, sweet, and lingering.
Ardeth’s arms tuck her into him as they kiss. Rick tangles a hand in her hair and angles her head, guiding her. Evy moans at the thought of two sets of hands on her, directing her, pleasuring her.
It’s Ardeth who breaks the kiss. “I had assumed,” he murmured, “that acting upon these urges would violate the sanctity of your marriage.”
Rick chuckles. “Have you ever known Evy to give up once she sets her mind to something?” He reaches over to cup Ardeth’s cheek. “Both of us want this. Seems you do, too.”
“I do.” The words come so softly, Evy almost doesn’t hear Ardeth, but his body language says he agrees.
“Then stay with us,” Evy says. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”
“Your life, your career, is in England,” Ardeth reminds her, as if Evy isn’t already painfully aware of that fact. “I cannot abandon my post here.”
“No one’s asking you to do that,” Rick reminds him. “We take the time we get, and we make it a priority.”
“And right now, you tell us how we can help you,” Evy says, “with the Medjai and your recovery. Then after that…”
“We take care of you, and each other,” Rick finished for her. “Hopefully in a bed.”
“Or a private tent,” Evy suggests.
Rick jerks his head towards the table. “Right here works too.”
Heat creeps into Evy’s cheeks at the thought of being spread out over the table, maps and parchment crinkling under her weight, while both men pleasure her. She isn’t sure she can wait, either, but there are other, more important things. The health and safety of Ardeth’s people, for one. Ensuring her own son has what he needs, for two.
But it’s Ardeth’s smile, a rare sight now burned into her memory, that convinces her that it’s all going to be okay. Even the end of the world, undead mummies, and vengeful spirits can’t stop the three of them. “We’ll find the time,” Ardeth promises. “Starting tonight.”
Ardeth leans his forehead against hers, an arm wrapped around both her and Rick. Here, Evy is safe, and loved, and valued.
Here, Evy is home.
