Chapter Text
Set
Set listened to Thoth and his other advisors discuss the latest reports and requests sent to the throne. They were all gathered in one of the smaller throne rooms in Heliopolis, and it was late afternoon. The sun bore down on them through the open walls, and the air smelled of perfume.
Set sat back on his throne in formal attire: gold and jewels, with his long red hair tied back, and a severe expression barely hiding how bored he was. There was a lot about farmland conditions, trade with their neighbors, the status of paying for the army, and other matters. Set’s administrators handled a lot of it, of course, but Set’s approval, as pharaoh, was necessary, too. Even after nearly nineteen years of ruling, plus the five he’d spent working with Osiris before traveling back in time, Set still felt like it was too much for him, and almost longed for the old days before he’d traveled back in time when no one cared about or wanted his opinion. He preferred being on the front lines, fighting enemies, not signing off on scrolls. Even his attempts to be fair in deciding disputes left him feeling uneasy: he’d long since taken it for granted that he didn’t need to be good at managing such things. And anything too frustrating could be handled with weapons.
But being a pharaoh was about more than just murdering anyone who annoyed you, and it always felt like Osiris was sitting over Set’s shoulder, checking in from Duat, to remind him of that.
Set tried to be fair. He knew his father, Geb, likely mocked every horrible decision Set made, repeating how much of an animal Set was. How Set could never change.
Set hoped Geb was hating old age every second of the day the older god was exiled to Jebel Barkal, where he’d gone after Osiris’ coronation and where Set had sent Geb back after Set’s coronation. Geb and Ra could yell at each other if they so pleased, for all the good it did either of them.
When the advisors finally left, Thoth stepped close to Set’s throne and said, “There was a reported sighting of Isis, but it led to nothing.”
Set looked up at Thoth, who had an unreadable expression on his pale face as he stood by Set’s throne and the small writing desk he’d brought out for court. He’d changed little in the years since Set took the throne, timeless as ever, much like Set, with his short silver hair and falsely sweet expression. And he’d kept his promise since Osiris’ death: that he would continue his job of helping the upper realm survive, now that he could no longer restore the world he craved, and reawaken his dead family, the Ogdoad. Since that horrible day where he'd nearly killed Set and Osiris both, before being thwarted by Set and Apophis, Set and Thoth had built a somewhat uneasy but practical alliance. Set didn’t trust Thoth as far as Set could throw him, but he knew that Thoth could be relied on for certain things, and screwing up affairs in Egypt brought him little.
“Led to nothing?” Set mused as he leaned back against his throne, letting his long red hair shift around him. “Or was brought to nothing?” He knew Thoth cared for Isis to some degree, and wanted Isis and Horus to survive. Set sometimes sent searches after Isis, to keep up the pretense of the terrible tyrant Set hunting down his dead brother’s wife, who’d escaped his clutches. But the searches never returned with anything.
Set imagined Thoth was part of that. Certainly Set didn’t give orders about it.
Thoth smiled slightly and asked, “What do you want me to say?”
Set knew that Thoth admitting he’d interfered in royal orders would be dangerous, and it would serve neither of them. So he shrugged and said, “Nothing. Is that all for the day?” He was tired, and wanted to sleep. When he wasn’t sitting in court or on the front lines, he tended to sleep, weary of everything in general. Of empty rooms where his family once lived. Of a populace that feared, despised, and worshipped him.
At least before Osiris went to Duat, Set thought as he gazed at Thoth’s writing desk, I wasn’t such a focus of their ire. People had still hated him and considered him awful, but Osiris had been the star around which everyone gravitated. And Isis, his brilliant wife with her powerful magic. But now it was just Set.
“That’s all for today,” Thoth said as he gathered up the papyrus scrolls he’d brought in. He glanced out the window. “Horus should be here, soon, though. I imagine they got into the city during the eclipse, even if they’ve stayed quiet for some reason since.”
Seth breathed in deeply and said nothing to that. If Isis and her forces believed Thoth was weaker during the lunar eclipse, and so slipped in then, that was their prerogative, but that they hadn’t done anything yet was odd.
Not that it mattered, in the long run.
“Are you just going to let him kill you?” Thoth asked, gazing at Set thoughtfully. “You didn’t let me kill you.” He almost sounded annoyed about it.
Set glared at him. “You wanted to destroy everything. Horus wants his father’s throne. There’s a difference.” Sometimes he considered killing Thoth himself, but he knew he’d be robbing himself of an invaluable resource. For all Thoth’s hatred of the upper world, he knew more about magic than most anyone, having invented the system everyone but Thoth himself, Ra, and Apophis used, and he had a vast knowledge of many gods and peoples. Not to mention, he often spotted many issues in court that Set himself couldn’t, and dealt with them before Set could. Quite a few assassins and threats had vanished under his vigilance.
It didn’t quite make up for what he’d done: manipulating Set, attempting to murder him, and killing Osiris, forcing Apophis to step in and save Set’s brother, but dooming him to eternity in Duat all the same. But it was something, anyway.
Set had been willing to sacrifice himself for Osiris that day, as ever. As for Osiris and Isis’ son, Horus, who was now an adult and ready to take back his father’s throne, Set… was less sure about what to do. He’d set up the whole lie about killing Osiris himself in order to prepare things for his sister, who would never have been accepted by the government. And while Set was targeted by those who hated him for killing Osiris anyway, Horus would have been at risk. It was best to send Isis and Horus far away, where they could grow support for themselves. Or at least… it had seemed that way, at the time.
Not to mention the question of Osiris’ authority as ruler, given his connection to Apophis, and how that might endanger the lives of Isis, Horus, and even Nephthys, who was Isis’ sister and closest to her.
I made the choices I had to, Set thought. And he would see them through, regardless of the consequences. He certainly didn’t care much for his own life these days, at least anymore than anyone else did.
Thoth rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever, then. I look forward to no longer having these weird conversations with you, anyway.” He set off out of the room.
Seth gazed at the small tray set up near his throne, with its half-empty cup of wine and a bowl of dried dates. He looked to his right, where he could see out a balcony into Heliopolis, where the city was still alive, full of merchants, scholars, priests, artisans, physicians, farmers, actors, musicians, prostitutes, and all the vastness of humanity that still refused to abandon it, despite living under the dreaded Set, slayer of Osiris.
He knew many couldn’t afford to leave, and they hated him even more for that.
He thought of Isis, living in exile with her son, and wondered if this world’s version of her hated him as much as the old version had. If, despite her knowledge that he hadn’t killed Osiris, and was covering up for Isis and Horus’ own good, she’d come to hate him just as when, in the past world, Nephthys had died fleeing him. She’d promised to come back to kill him, after all. And the Isis in his original world had never done that, even when Set’s execution was arranged.
Set picked up the cup of wine. “Even when I don’t attack people directly, they still die around me.” He imagined Geb would agree. After all, Nut had taken sick from having Set, and died only shortly after having Nephthys. Geb never forgave Set for it.
He drained the cup and called for a servant with more wine. If he was going to reminisce until Horus arrived, he didn’t want to be sober for it.
Horus
Isis, Horus, Anubis, and Nephthys had been secreted away in Heliopolis for a couple weeks before Horus gave up pretending he was going to sit idly by, and snuck his way into the palace.
Thoth’s guard set-up was very good, as Neith commented repeatedly, but Horus had grown up learning to sneak past everyone who might be after him, godly or otherwise, and he had something of a gift for it, with a bit of magic to quiet his movements and make people see other things, or no one at all. He mostly just wanted to explore. See what his uncle’s vaunted military was really like up close. All his life, they’d been coming after Horus and his mother, allegedly to kill them, but Set’s forces never succeeded. And now here Horus was, in the heart of the city, planning to overthrow his terrible uncle at last.
The city itself was fascinating, despite the fear many people clearly lived with on the daily from the Set’s legendary temper. There was food he’d never tried, all sorts of interesting people to talk to, shows to see… A lot for a boy who’d lived most of his life in quiet villages with a population of a handful of people. Even Anubis took some interest in things, even if he still guarded Horus closely.
But Horus didn’t like sitting still and waiting, as Isis and Nephthys insisted. He felt a bit bad telling Anubis to keep them busy while he explored, but Anubis was used to doing silly things for him. And neither of the goddesses would ever get mad at Anubis.
The palace was a big shiny thing, of course, and seemed like overkill, but Horus saw it as a challenge. Horus ended up climbing up a wall at one point to avoid some servants, and found himself hiding on the side of a balcony of some noble’s room. When he peeked over the balcony edge to get a glance in and see if someone was inside… he discovered yes, someone was there, sleeping on a couch nearby, taking in the afternoon breeze.
Someone he could never mistake for anyone else.
Horus stared, enraptured, at the figure of his terrifying uncle, laid out on his back. The gold and jewels of his outfit glittered in the afternoon sunshine, and his long red hair pillowed around him. His eyes were shut, and he seemed to be asleep. His hands rested on his bared, muscular chest. His left leg was tucked under his right. Like the stories said, he was a large man, perhaps half a head taller than Horus at least, and if he were moving, Horus didn’t doubt he could cut down anyone he pleased.
There was no one else in the room, though the place was full of shiny trophies, weapons, and likely gifts. Many decorations were made of gold, silver, and various gems, and there were some tall potted plants, and rich tapestries. There was also a bed larger than anything Horus had ever slept in covered in translucent cloth, looking like a dream itself. There was a bowl of dates on a table nearby, and a jug of what was likely wine.
Horus imagined jumping in now, striking the killing blow while he could. He wondered if his mother would be proud of him. If his father would be. Set was defenseless like this, it was so easy…
Yes, Set had struck Osiris similarly, when Osiris hadn’t expected it, but this would be proper revenge, wouldn’t it?
Horus had a knife with him, gifted from Neith. He carefully climbed over the balcony edge and touched the floor with his lightly sandaled feet, using magic to quiet things.
Set didn’t move. Wind whispered in the air, making Set’s red bangs flutter a bit. The green leaves of a plant nearby moved up and down. But nothing else happened. No one screamed for guards.
Horus moved carefully closer, reaching his hand for his knife under his travel cloak. And as he neared, he could see that the stories – for all they spoke of Set’s monstrousness – had clearly missed out on Set’s beauty. Up close, Set was the most handsome man Horus had ever met.
Horus had played around in his youth, and amused himself a little in Heliopolis since they’d been there, but anyone he’d ever met paled in comparison to who was before him. He knew the story of Set killing Osiris. He knew why Nephthys fled Heliopolis with Isis. But being up close with the man in person, was…
“Are you going to do anything before we both die of old age?” Set demanded, opening his golden eyes to gaze at Horus. His expression was unimpressed. And he still looked handsome. His voice was quiet, but firm. His golden earrings tinkled as his head moved slightly.
Horus grinned and said, “I wondered if you’d sensed me at the balcony.” They were so close now that it would be difficult for Horus to get away easily, but Set also wasn’t near any weapons. Though Horus knew the god of war’s entire body was a weapon.
Seth’s expression didn’t change. But he didn’t attack either.
Horus raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “Well? You’re the seasoned warrior. The great and mighty Set, pharaoh of Egypt, slayer of Osiris… And I’m just Horus. A nobody. Are you just going to not move?” He wasn’t afraid to give away his identity. If anything, it would likely protect him more than pretending to be some random thief, as Set could use him to bargain with Isis and Nephthys. And Set was a god, he likely knew who Horus was already.
And if Horus was going to die here anyway, he was going to do it under his own name.
Set stayed weirdly still.
Horus drew his dagger, and noted that Set’s lip twitched slightly, which was all that moved. When Horus moved the dagger to Set’s bared neck, as the god had seemingly dropped his jeweled usekh on the ground nearby to sleep, Set simply gazed at him.
“Do you think your neck is strong enough to resist this?” Horus asked, almost idly. “Neith’s spent all my life telling me what weaknesses even gods like you have.”
Set smiled a little, making Horus’ heart skip a beat. “She would. She’s good at that. I almost miss sparring with her, since she was one of the only people who could keep up with me.”
Horus wondered at the fondness in Set’s voice. Set the evil tyrant, who was meant to have no heart at all. Who’d murdered his brother, assaulted his sisters, and was leading Egypt to ruin. Set, who did nothing when sharp metal kissed his neck. He could have killed Horus in at least a dozen ways by now, but didn’t move, and not because Horus was holding a knife to his neck.
There was something odd about Set’s golden eyes. Something… almost hopeful.
“Why aren’t you stopping me?” Horus asked, leaning over Set more, and not realizing quite how much he was. His long, golden braid brushed Set’s muscular chest. “You could.”
Set’s smile faded, like a cloud over the sun.
Horus frowned, realizing Set was annoyed about what Horus was saying. Horus had always been good at seeing through people, and into the truths they hid as they went about their day. It made all his caretakers very vexed with him as he grew up. But what he was seeing in Set was… strange.
“Do you… want me to kill you?” Horus finally asked.
Seth snorted softly and said, “You believe you really can? Perhaps you should test your metal more on my skin. See if Neith is correct.”
Horus was so close he could almost feel Seth’s hot breath in the air. It didn’t feel like desert. But it also felt familiar.
Like when he’d been saved as a child when he wandered into the desert. And warm, muscular arms had comforted him while he was crying, before carrying him to shade and safety.
“Why did you save me?” Horus asked at last. A question that had hounded him for years. That Nephthys and Isis couldn’t answer, and Anubis only glared when hearing it. “We’re enemies.” Set could have killed him as an infant, if he hated Isis and Osiris so much, and coveted the throne as much as people said. But he didn’t.
Set’s eyes widened.
“You could have left me to die in the sands,” Horus said. “It would have been easier.”
Set’s sharp lips parted briefly. Horus’ eyes followed the line of his throat.
Finally, Set said, “I don’t know.” There was something like defeat in his eyes. A pain that Horus wanted to better understand.
Horus also knew Set was lying, after a fashion.
“Make me your apprentice,” Horus said.
Set’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I want to train under Egypt’s greatest soldier,” Horus said. “After learning all that Neith can teach me.”
“You said we’re enemies,” Set noted, clearly confused.
“Wouldn’t my serving you be sweeter than killing me?” Horus asked with a smile.
“…Isis won’t allow it.”
“You care what my mother thinks? You drove her from the palace, she says.” He’d known for years that was only partial truth, but the stormy thoughtfulness in Set’s eyes made Horus doubt that tale even more.
“Besides,” Horus added, “I’m an adult. I make my own decisions.”
“You’re barely 19,” Set muttered, sounding frustrated.
Horus smiled and said, “Then I’m a fool. And I’ll make a foolish decision. Train me. Let me serve you, Uncle. If only so that one day, when I kill you, it’ll be less embarrassing for us both.”
There was a flash of anger in Set’s eyes, a sharpness that Horus wanted to taste. His mother sometimes despaired of his laziness, but he could be focused when he wanted to, so giving into his whims in this way was odd. But he’d come to the palace seeking adventure, and an end to boredom. And perhaps he’d found both. And answers Isis and Nephthys always refused to give him.
“…Get off of me.”
Horus backed away and put away the knife.
Set sat up, glaring at him, but giving him a proper once-over before looking away, still annoyed.
Anything could happen now. Set could call the guards. And Horus would have to flee and tell his mother of his foolishness. His heart raced at the possibilities.
“Bathe my feet,” Set ordered.
Horus’ eyes widened in surprise.
Set looked at him. “Well? You’re an apprentice. Do as I say.” He leaned back a bit on the pillows. “And maybe later I’ll see how you fare with a spear.”