The Wrath of Amun-Ra

by chaosminion, NattTheCat

Summary:

Stumbling upon an ancient temple in Egypt, not far from the Valley of the Kings, the young archeologist Lucifer is obsessed with discovering the tomb of the mythical Pharaoh Irimaet. Instead he releases a condemned man, and Irimaet's former High Priest, who claims to be Lucifer's lover in a past life, and he has been sealed away for thousands of years. Now free from his curse, Alastor attempts to reconnect with his lost lover, but Lucifer cannot remember him. Will finding the Pharaoh's tomb prove helpful in restoring Lucifer's memory? Will he be able to uncover the truth of their deaths?

Chapter 1: Prologue: Gleaming in the Moonlight

Notes:

HELLO AND WELCOME BACK

this story is a love child between my own obsession with Ancient Egypt, coupled with NattTheCat's insane amount of knowledge of archeology and the people. It is loosely based off The Mummy (1999) movie, that nearly gave poor Natt a hesrt attack with the historical inaccuracies. Natt is a beta and co-writer to this work, and honestly, it wouldnt be HALF as good without them!! THANK YOU, DARLING.

The moonlight pooled on the white sandstone of the palace, reflecting on scattered brass surfaces that were polished to a mirror shine by hundreds of diligent hands. The desert’s night breeze brought with it the fresh scent of the nearby river, causing gossamer curtains to drift like serene ghosts. The hallways were quiet in the dead of night, with even the servants and slaves deep in their beds, resting until they were called on for a late night drink by the nobility they served. 

A silent figure in white scurried from one shadow to the next. It ducked behind a column painted in motifs of reeds and cranes, waited for several breaths, then slipped to the next one, making its way to a statue of the Pharaoh at the end of an alcove. The white hood looked in all directions before it reached up and gripped the stone flail held in one of the statue’s fists, pulling it until it moved an inch on a hidden hinge. A small portion of the wall behind the statue swung away, well oiled and silent, revealing a passageway beyond.

The figure slipped inside without a backwards glance, ducking low enough to not hit its head, and the door swung shut to once again become undetectable. 

The passageway took three turns, but the figure in white didn’t slow down, their feet carrying them faster the closer they got to their destination. The passage finally widened to a chamber, where a middle aged man with an oil lamp rose to his feet from his position on the floor, causing the figure in white to stop. 

“Almost thought you wouldn’t show up,” the man grumbled, lifting his lamp to cast shadows on the walls. He was dressed like a priest of Amun-Ra, but his cheeks were grizzled with forbidden growth, and his white garbs were stained and dirty, like he hadn’t washed them in a week. “The High Priest is almost in a tizzy at how late you are.”

“Husk,” the figure in white breathed out in relief. “The High Priest will forgive me. It took longer than usual to sing Pharaoh to sleep.”

From the inside of the robe, a small leather wineskin was passed to the dirty priest, who snatched it up and uncorked it to inhale the pleasant aroma. 

“Ahhh! That’s the stuff! Finest wine in all of Egypt, straight from Pharaoh’s table. Thank you kindly, Favored One.”

“Don’t mention it,” the pleased figure replied. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

The priest grunted. “Just doin’ my job.” He pressed a hand to the door behind him and opened it, ushering in the figure before closing it, remaining at his perch to guard the entrance. 

The figure wasn’t even two steps into the bedchamber beyond before the hood was ripped off their head and the arms were outreached to eagerly fall into the embrace of the one waiting for him, whimpering as the crushing pressure eased the tension of the day. 

“Alastor!” 

He inhaled the scented oil that covered the muscled chest, felt the rumble of the amused chuckle, and pressed as close as his slim body could achieve, as if to mold himself against the other man. The fingers in his hair caused him to melt further, releasing the coil of anxiety in his stomach. 

“Lucifer,” the voice above him murmured, sending his stomach into a different kind of spiral. In these arms he could shed all the chains that kept him down during the day. 

In these arms, he was free. 

“Is something wrong, my sunshine?”

Lucifer tilted his head up to pout at the amused face. Dark colored eyes were framed by hundreds of slender braids, each one capped with golden beads, as if drops of sunlight rested in the black expanse. Alastor was a paragon of Egyptian beauty, enough to take everyone’s breath away. Blessed by the sun, a servant of Amun-Ra, and High Priest of Pharaoh. 

A warm palm cupped Lucifer’s cheek, one thumb brushing away a traitorous tear that had escaped. 

“Did she hurt you again?”

Lucifer shook his head and buried his face against the muscles once more. “No, she was too tired tonight after the harvest ceremony. I just- I hate that I have to wait so long to see you like this. That if we are in the same room together we have to pretend we don’t know each other other than by our stations. I wish-”

Lucifer cut off his words before he choked on them. What could he say? That he wished he had never been captured and sold far away from his home? That he had never been brought to the palace where he had attracted Pharah’s attention? If that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have met Alastor, wouldn’t have found the oasis for his parched soul in the middle of the desert. Wouldn’t have known that it was possible to be cherished for who he was, not what he was. 

“Shh,” the soothing voice washed over him, and the fingers in his hair were back. “I know, my heart, my sunshine. I also wish things were different. But it won’t be long now, my plans are nearly complete.”

Lucifer gasped as he pulled away this time. “You aren’t still thinking about- I told you that we couldn’t risk it! If we are caught it will be a painful death for both of us!”

Alastor gripped his arms in a firm grasp, his smile slipping into an expression of calm concern. “Do you think I fear pain? Every moment of watching you remain on her golden leash is an agony that burns the very soul from my body! If I can set you free, then I will.”

Now Lucifer’s blue eyes were swimming with emotion, drowning in the love he secretly held for the High Priest. “Alastor… I can’t ask you to leave everything for me!”

The robe was brushed from his shoulders by adoring fingers, exposing the golden shackles disguised as bracelets and armbands. Around his neck was a golden collar that bore the cartouche of the Pharaoh. 

He was property, an exotic slave, and he was Pharaoh’s favorite.

It was forbidden to touch him.  

But the High Priest dared. He risked his own life every time he touched and caressed Egypt’s treasure, but it was a risk he gladly bore for even a second to bask in the soft glow of the golden sunshine. 

“If I have to leave everything I know and everything I’ve built to gain the sun, then I will,” Alastor said, sliding his arms around the slender waist and lifting Lucifer off the floor. He carried him over to a bed that was draped in ruby red cloth, as vibrant as the color of blood, and laid him down, kissing his slender neck. 

“If it means traveling to the ends of the earth, forsaking my name and my language to learn another just for the chance of hearing your voice every morning, then I will pay the tolls.”

Lucifer moaned softly as those lips traveled down to the golden collar, lifting it with a single finger so he could kiss the hollow of his throat. 

“What good is all my power if I cannot have you freely? If I cannot reach out and touch you whenever I wish? If you must sing for another in a golden cage, instead of in the sky where you belong?”

Lucifer’s breathing became desperate pants as more kisses were pressed to his delicate, alabaster skin that Pharaoh often boasted about. He was practically starved to keep his figure, but was fed the best delicacies at the hands of Pharaoh only. 

But here, in Alastor’s arms, he wasn’t a slave. He was Lucifer, from a small tribe in the green mountain valleys of his homeland, and he was allowed to be himself. 

“Alastor…” he whined, gently gripping the braids to bring their face back up to him, hungry for those lips on his own. “We can’t tonight… I’m sorry. Lilith was too tired and didn’t fuck me, so she will notice if I-”

“That doesn’t bother me, you know that,” Alastor replied, licking at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth. For a moment all they could do was share their breath and their moans before parting once more. “If all I can steal is an hour of your time, then I will be content with worshiping your light.”

Lucifer trembled with the crime of seeking solace with another, but these secret moments were all he had to get him through the torments of the day. 

“Then kiss me,” he pleaded, arching up and against Alastor. “Wash away the tendrils of her from my skin with your touch. Take me home.”

The High Priest obliged, keeping his lover close for as long as he dared in a secret room where even the moon could not find them. 

In another room in the palace, Pharaoh woke up from her troubled sleep and found her bed empty, her favored slave gone. 

Her guards found Lucifer in his private bedroom, where he claimed he had retreated after Pharaoh had fallen asleep. He was dragged before his master and punished for abandoning her, but was eventually forgiven after he had wept enough tears and promised never to do it again. 

He was watched extra close after that, and the nightly visits to the secret chamber had to be placed on hold. Lucifer spent his energy trying to get back in Pharaoh’s good graces, but it hurt to be so alone again. 

Then it happened. A message was intercepted from the High Priest’s servant, a one eyed slave girl. Certain preparations had been discovered, rocking the palace in a scandal. 

The High Priest of Amun-Ra was planning on stealing Pharaoh’s favored slave and escaping Egypt. 

The punishment was swift. Lucifer was dragged before Pharaoh and tortured to confession. The High Priest was then summoned, his legs broken, and when he saw what had been done to his love he exploded with rage and magic. In the burst of power, Pharaoh was struck in the heart, and she collapsed, her eyes vacant with shock. 

Pharaoh was dead. 

Her murderer was executed, after being forced to watch his lover strangled by Pharaoh’s successor, as revenge. His scream of pain was heard all over the rooftops of Thebes. 

Because he was a High Priest of Amun-Ra, Alastor was mummified and sealed in the tomb that had been built for this very purpose, with an important addition: Every mention of his name was wiped out in the tomb, and his sarcophagus was covered in spells and curses meant to contain his soul and chain it to his body, forbidden from entering the Afterlife. 

A fate worse than death. 

Lucifer’s fate was similar to Alastor’s, but different. Despite his betrayal, Lucifer had still been Pharaoh’s treasure and was mummified with the finest ingredients and carefully wrapped, placed in a queen’s chamber next to where Pharaoh was buried. His name was also scrubbed, at least from the chamber, with only his title of “Favored One” to identify his mummy. 

Pharaoh’s successor, her half-brother and grand vizier, performed the opening of the mouth ceremony to enable her mummy to see, hear, and speak. It would allow her spirit to eat and breathe, and connect her Akh , or spirit, to her body. 

But when it came time for the vizier to perform the ceremony for the slave, he sneered and put down the sacred tools. 

“Let his Akh search the heavens and earth for its body. Let it never know rest or peace, and never be reunited with the one he betrayed his master for!”

Pharaoh’s tomb was sealed and hidden to prevent it from being plundered by thieves. Over time, it was lost to the sands, the history of Pharaoh Irimaet and her heroic victories relegated to myth and legends, overshadowed by her successor’s ego. Even the fact that she was a woman was only suggested by scholars who were shunned by their ridiculous beliefs. There was no proof, and therefore only a rumor. 

As for the two lovers’ souls, one remained in darkness, chained to a preserved corpse, weeping for the one he had destroyed his reputation and life for. The other wandered as a spirit, lost and confused, searching for a body to return to. 

A hundred years passed, then two. The spirit of the slave was tired of wandering, lost and alone. It discovered it was able to inhabit a pregnant woman, and sink into the unborn fetus that had yet to develop a soul. 

He was born into the world anew, naked and screaming for comfort. He lived for a short while, only until twenty five, then suffered an accident and died. 

Again he was born, lived to the same age, then died. 

Born. Lived. Died. 

Searching. Always searching. For what, he did not know. 

Centuries passed. Dynasties rose and fell. The slave lived and lived and lived. 

Until one day… he returned to the sands of Egypt.

Chapter 2: The Temple of Amun-Ra

Summary:

Lucifer is excited that a hunch has led him to a buried temple, and he finds more than just sand and cobwebs.

Notes:

All archeological notes and knowledge was given by Natt, who helped TREMENDOUSLY with the details in this chapter.

The scrape of multiple trowels and shovels filled the sweltering air of the desert, disturbing the ancient rocks in the middle of a valley that had been long abandoned by the archeological community. The Valley of the Kings had been discovered some miles away, diverting their attention, the cliffs beginning to surrender their secrets to the zealous scholars who were hungry for artifacts and mummies, but this reclusive fissure with a scattering of ancient ruins nearby had been determined to be vacant of anything more than lines of bricks in the sand. 

Until one bold archeologist, a fellow named Lucifer Morningstar, convinced a rich backer in England to give him a chance to find the most elusive treasure in all of Egypt. 

The tomb of Pharaoh Irimaet! 

Of course they called him crazy. Of course they laughed at him. But Lucifer would be getting the last laugh when he returned to England with the sarcophagus of Egypt’s most elusive and mythological Pharaoh, and prove to once and for all that the terrifyingly effective ruler and conqueror was, in fact, a woman. 

His reason for thinking this? Intuition. A gut feeling. And a large dollop of desperation. 

He needed to find this tomb. From the moment he had heard the name IIrimaet he had become obsessed, moving to a different country to study archeology, making shady deals and selling parts of himself in order to get here, to this valley, where his research had lead him to believe that a temple of Amun-Ra lay beneath the sands, just waiting to feel the warmth of the sun again. 

Pharaoh Irimaet had been a follower of Amun-Ra, like many Pharaos before her. Inscriptions in the temple of Karnak tell of the immense monuments she built in the god’s honor, yet none have ever been found. Possibly because of her successor’s meddling, possibly because of her gender, or perhaps even both. 

Lucifer would find out when he got his hands on her sarcophagus, and until then he would do anything to stay in the hot desert, until his skin blistered and cracked if he had to. 

Which was why he was scraping the rock wall with his trowel, certain that this outcropping of rocks looked suspiciously like a building. Thousands of years had coated the ruins in sand and all he had to do was brush the layers away. He couldn’t say why this particular stone called to him, or why he imagined it could be a doorway, but his trowel was steadily poking away at the rock, as stubborn as his years of obsession could make him. 

And then his trowel broke a piece of rock away, revealing a hieroglyph carved into the surface. Then another, and then another!

“Lute!” Lucifer called with excitement, waving his hat until he caught the foreman’s attention. “I found something! Over here!” 

He showed the woman the hieroglyphs and explained how the workers could chisel away at the rock wall. She called over the men and traded their shovels for smaller picks, and they spent the next several hours carefully peeling away the layers of time until they had nearly a full plaque unveiled, complete with carved borders and even flecks of color that might have been the remnants of paint. 

Lucifer was beside himself with excitement. He rushed back to their camp to inform his supervisor, a self important man named Adam who represented the Museum, that he had made a discovery. He was so excited he didn’t even care when Adam used their congratulatory toast to cop a feel on his backside. All of it was about to be worth it. 

It took several more days to clear the wall, and several more painstaking hours to copy and translate the glyphs, before Lucifer was able to confirm that it was indeed an outer wall to the temple of Amun-Ra. 

He had found it! Take that, Bembridge scholars!

Clearing more of the rock face took days, but eventually it led them to find different murals and even a few columns. It would likely take months of digging to completely unearth the temple from the rock and sand, but Lucifer needed a way in . 

So he went searching again, following a line of glyphs that he somehow knew would lead him in, chipping away the sand with his trowel until he found a line of vertical bricks that outlined an entrance. He attacked the soft sandstone like a man possessed, aiming for the empty space between the bricks, until his shovel broke through what appeared to be an air pocket, nearly swallowing Lucifer’s arm into a pitch blackness beyond. 

It was shocking to be so close to his goals. Lucifer didn’t even wait for Lute to bring the rest of the diggers over. He single handedly cleared enough of a hole to the air pocket that would allow him to crawl inside with a flashlight, shining the weak light into a building that hadn’t heard the footsteps of a living creature for millenia. 

“Son of a bitch…” Lucifer said in awe as he stood just inside his little hole, the feeble flashlight beam revealing colors on walls and columns that disappeared far up above his head. Just the small little peek had his heart pounding, his lungs gasping to fill completely. 

Or perhaps that was the stale air that was hurting his lungs. Reluctantly, Lucifer crawled back through to the outside and returned to the diggers, directing them over to the entrance while he fetched Adam, who wouldn’t want to miss the big moment. 

The big man with his balding head and sand colored suit lumbered after Lucifer with a cigar clenched in his ham fingers and a look of doubt on his face. He was there to protect the assets of the Museum and claim all goods and artifacts uncovered, and his lack of enthusiasm often dampened Lucifer’s excitement. 

Not this time, though. This time Adam whistled, impressed despite himself, when he saw the entrance that the diggers had carved out. 

“Well isn’t this the cat’s meow! Attaboy, Lucy! You finally found something!”

He nearly knocked Lucifer over with the playful punch to the shoulder, but Lucifer barely felt it. He didn’t even correct Adam’s infuriating use of a nickname that he hated. 

“We’ve gotta go in!” Lucifer insisted. “Bring in all the torches and lights! The electric chords and lanterns! There is so much to discover inside-”

“Whoa there, slow down hot stuff!” Adam laughed, leaning an elbow on Lute’s shoulder while he puffed at his cigar. “That’s gonna take time, and we can get the goonies straight on that, but in the meantime we need to confirm that this is the temple you were lookin’ for, right? I mean, there’s no need to waste a bunch of time if this is some guy’s camel barn, yeah?”

Lucifer swallowed all the burning retorts back down his throat and took a deep breath. “You’re right, Adam.”

“Damn right, I am!”

“We have to search for identification first. I propose a small reconnaissance team with torches and paper to copy any hieroglyphs so that I can translate them later.”

“Now you’re talkin’,” Adam nodded. He shrugged his arm off of the foreman. “Alright, toots, you heard him. You, me, and Lucy are going in with a couple of the diggers. Get the others started on hauling the lanterns and chords over. If this is the place we want then it’s gonna be a big shindig.”

Lute rolled her eyes at the way Adam addressed her, but she started snapping orders at the men to get them moving. Lucifer tied his leather satchel of tools around his waist with trembling fingers and grabbed his flashlight, turning to Adam. 

“Are you sure you want to go in? It will be dangerous.”

Adam crushed the cigar under his shoe and laughed. “I’m not a lily-livered Brit like you, kid. Nothin’ gonna scare this American away!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and shrugged, stepping into the black void and back in time to when gods and kings were worshiped. 

The room within was spacious, with more of the colored walls and columns that Lucifer had spied before. He slowly walked inside and spun in a circle, trying to find the edges of the room. As Lute and Adam stepped in with lanterns and more flashlights, the walls began to take shape and steal the very breath from Lucifer’s lungs. 

“This is… incredible,” he whispered, keeping his voice at a reverent level. 

From floor to ceiling the walls were covered in carvings and frescos, some of them still glowing with a color that hadn’t reflected light in thousands of years. Hieroglyphs and paintings were in neat lines, horizontal or vertical, and on every surface, making Lucifer’s head spin and eyes tear up. 

“Are you crying ?” Adam sneered, his light shining directly in Lucifer’s face. 

“Ah, turn it away, idiot!” Lucifer complained, blinking the spots from his eyes. “How am I supposed to read the glyphs if you fucking blind me?”

“Geez, no need to be snippy,” Adam sniffed. He looked so out of place inside the solemn temple that Lucifer wanted to shove him back out the door. “So? Is it the right temple?”

Lucifer rubbed his eyes until they adjusted to the darkness once more. “Give me a minute.”

The flashlight beam followed the murals and carvings, skimming over the images for anything familiar that could give him an instant clue. He wandered from wall to wall, noticing different exits to chambers further in. 

“This is a temple, the layout is similar to others I’ve seen. There are plenty of prayers for benediction… protection… Oh look! See that sun disc?!” 

Lucifer’s light centered on a portion of a fresco that showed the bottom half of a circle with wavy lines extending downwards that ended in tiny hands. 

“That is Aten ! And it’s shining down on Pharaoh! See the ceremonial beard and head dress?”

Adam caught his breath. “ Which Pharaoh?”

Lucifer frowned, looking all over for a cartouche. “I can’t tell yet. There should be a mural in the inner sanctuary that will identify who built the temple.”

Lute spoke up. “Go into the creepy crypt? Great. Which way, chief?”  

“It’s not a crypt-!” Lucifer clicked his teeth together before he went on a tangent on the differences between crypts and temples. He had learned early on that any chance he got to ramble about his interests only earned derision and mockery. 

Instead he pointed at the eastern entrance. “That way. Towards the sun.”

“See, toots? Obviously towards the sun!” Adam laughed. 

Lucifer ignored them, trying to calm his eager feet that swept him forward, grabbing a torch from one of the diggers to light his way along with the flashlight. The torch flickered merrily, telling him that there was good air in the passages before them. He might be eager, but there was no time to be stupid. 

One short hallway led to another smaller chamber, and after a quick look at the murals depicting reeds and the Nile, with more of Aten’s sun rays beaming down on the rows of wheat filled with people and gods, he determined that another passageway would be the correct way. 

Adam and Lute followed after, their mockery silenced under the weight of the stone around them. The workers who accompanied them left brightly colored markers behind so they could find their way back, but they tried to stick as close to Lucifer as they could. He seemed to know where he was going, anyway. 

The passages opened up to another large chamber, twice the size of the one they had discovered first, and Lucifer gasped before running forward, nearly tripping over fallen bricks and rocks. 

“Would you look at that!” 

He laughed, he danced, he almost sobbed. The mural revealed was the largest yet, with a giant sun painted in a bright yellow, broken here and there but still visible, and a large carving of a Pharaoh with distinctly womanly features, such as breasts. Lucifer dropped his torch and grabbed Adam by the shoulders, shaking him violently. 

“Do you see that?! Do you see?? That’s Irimaet! Look! Her name is right there!”

Adam recovered and shoved Lucifer off, brushing his jacket to get off the weirdness. “Yeah? You sure about that? Could be anyone, right?”

Lucifer rounded on him with such madness in his eyes that Adam and Lute stepped back. 

“ No ! It couldn’t! That’s her cartouche, and that’s the sun god! This is her temple!”

Lute clicked her tongue. “Still going on about the Pharaoh being a woman? You know it makes you sound crazy.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Lucifer hissed, but he was now looking over the mural with feverish eyes, muttering under his breath as he hastily translated the glyphs as best as he could. “Blessed be Pharaoh… great builder… aha! ‘Praise be Irimaet, first born daughter of the great Pharaoh Menmaetre, and the divine ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt, who is favored of Amun-Ra, for restoring this temple.’ Did you hear that?! This glyph means ‘daughter’! Haha! I’m gonna rub this in the face of every Egyptologist who doubted me until the day I die!”

“Son of a bitch,” Adam rubbed his head and laughed. “This will make Mammon very happy. There hasn’t been a chick Pharaoh discovered since Cleopatra. But we still don’t have a mummy. So where is it?”

Lucifer was hastily writing down the glyphs, but glanced up. “Mammon said I could excavate the temple and search for her mummy. If it’s not here then it has to be nearby. Tombs are not as easy to find as temples. It’s very likely that this temple was dedicated to her, but she would have a different burial place.”

“The fuck? Where?!” Adam demanded. 

Lucifer shot him an annoyed look. “Wait until I can translate this and it might just tell us! Probably a valley nearby.”

Adam groaned in response. “More fucking sand, huh? Well, at least I’ll have your beautiful face for company, right, Lucy?”

Lucifer stuck his tongue out and returned to his drawing. After twenty minutes of wandering around and looking at the pictures, Lute gave a shudder. 

“We better go back. I need some fresh air. We got what we came for, anyway.”

Adam agreed and tugged on Lucifer’s collar. “Hey, bookworm! Let’s go.”

“Not yet,” Lucifer batted him away, intent on the wall. “Just one more diagram- hey!”

Adam’s thick arm had circled around Lucifer’s waist and tugged him back to the entrance. “If you stay in here you’re gonna turn into dust. Besides, I have a bottle of gin and we can celebrate together in my tent.”

Lucifer shook off the grip and groaned at the disgusting way Adam was leering at him. “No thanks, I need to write up a report to send back to the Museum anyway. This is going to shake the scholarly world!” 

 “Awww come one! Just a single glass?”

Lucifer ignored the pestering and glumly followed the others back the way that they had come. He had the flashlight trained on the walls, trying to take in as many details as he could so he could spill his thoughts into a journal back at camp. His veins were humming with the ancient secrets that were just waiting for him to translate from the murals and hieroglyphs! 

Maybe it was the excitement of the discovery, or the ancient air that hadn’t fully regained the oxygen levels required to sustain life, but Lucifer started to feel dizzy, his steps slowing, then faltering. Adam and Lute’s voices began shrinking and drawing away, leaving only the silence of the columns around him. 

Lucifer stopped. He turned a quarter to the right, then started walking again. Down the side of the antechamber and into another passage. A turn to the left and he was faced with a statue of Pharaoh, her imposing and yet still feminine face stern and commanding with the double crown of egypt and the ceremonial beard, while the mural behind her head of Aten was shining down on her. 

Without thinking, Lucifer reached up and grasped the stone flail. It sank an inch with a rumbling click, and behind the statue a portion of the wall swung open, just big enough for Lucifer to crouch over and enter. 

“Weird…” Lucifer shook himself out of the daze and glanced over his shoulder, realizing he couldn’t hear the others. “Adam? Shit, did I take a wrong turn?”

He picked up the echo of a distance sound, but it was muffled. He took a step back, eager to join the others, but then stopped, his gaze returning to the dark passage he had opened. Somehow.

“How did I know it would do that?” He asked the empty air. Another second of hesitation, then he crouched into the tunnel and started to follow it. 

Behind him, the door closed silently and blended in with the wall. 

Lucifer’s breath and the soft crunch of his shoes were the only sounds in the enclosed passage. It was a good thing he didn’t have problems with small spaces, or he would really be freaking out. Small spaces came with the job, and he had gotten quite used to it. 

The passage twisted and turned, their walls rough and empty of any carvings, but they felt strangely familiar. As if he had been here in a dream. Lucifer didn’t feel any sense of panic, though the weight of the temple above him should have been digging into his consciousness. It was as if he knew the way ahead would be clear of any rubble.   

He reached a dead end, but a quick examination showed that the wall swung open on hidden hinges, just like the one behind the statue. Lucifer crawled out and straightened up, hearing his spine pop in several places, before looking around. 

“Holy shit…”

The flashlight beam showed him a long chamber with more paths branching off, but the murals drew his attention. They depicted scenes from the Book of the Dead, showing the procession of a barge with a sarcophagus as its cargo, and pulled by rows of slaves. Lucifer’s feet took him down the length of the chamber, watching the scenes change to the weighing of the heart on a scale against the feather of Ma’at . 

“This is… a burial chamber,” Lucifer breathed, speaking out loud just to have more than silence ringing in his ears. “In a temple? Fascinating! Possibly for a very important priest! This is where… they would bring in burial goods and offerings. But why is it so empty? Where are all the jars of grain and wine that should be here? Has it been robbed?” 

He stopped before a statue and gaped at the size, and the way it was colored with bright paints that hadn’t faded with age to the extent that he would expect. But then again, it hadn’t been exposed to the outside air and weather. He didn’t recognize the figure, the head covered in stylized braids, but they looked powerful. There was no means of identifying the person around the base of the statue, the circular spaces that were meant to be filled with glyphs shockingly empty, making it remain a mystery. Clearly it had been hastily made, or moved, without even the proper identifying markers carved in. 

“Who are you?” He mused aloud. 

The stone eyes- and mouth had been broken off, and they did not answer.  

Distant sounds made Lucifer hold his breath, his wide eyes staring into the darkness until he recognized the sound of his name being called. It must be Adam and Lute, somewhere else in the temple, their voices echoing through to the chamber he had found. He should answer them. He should find the entrance and alert them to the chamber’s existence. He should…

Lucifer’s legs started to tremble with excitement. He was in… a tomb! An actual tomb! 

He spun around, too overcome to do much more than stare. 

“Oh! How I’ve dreamed of such a find! Pharaoh Irimaet, if this is your temple then speak to me! Show me where you lie in repose!”

His joyous words died on his lips as he took in more of the chamber and a gruesome sight began to unfold with the beam of his flashlight. Despite his fascination for the macabre, Lucifer now had a sinking feeling that the pieces he saw told a harrowing story. 

For one, the far wall had been carved with hollow slits that ran parallel to each other, equally spaced from floor to ceiling, four in a column, and five columns total. The alcoves on the right were empty, but the ones on the left held piles of what looked like burial goods. Only when Lucifer drew closer, and picked through the degrading cloth, did he see the bones. 

Human bones. Wrapped in burial clothes, but not mummified. 

Lucifer had never seen or heard of such a thing in Egypt. France had its catacombs of thousands of bodies, dating back to ancient times, but in Egypt, if a body was not mummified, it did not survive. 

“Why would they place unprepared bodies in a- a tomb?” Lucifer wondered out loud. His flashlight swept over the hieroglyphs that he hastily tried to translate, his heart pounding fiercely to know the reasons. “Blood… that's for blood and- a ritual- no, a spell! An offering! Oh, that's the symbol for ‘serpent’!” 

Lucifer's fingers pointed to each glyph as he read out loud. “‘Blood for the Serpent God to strengthen his body and let him swallow- swallow the Sun.’ What the devil does that mean?!” 

The ground beneath Lucifer's feet trembled, as if in the aftershocks of an earthquake. It wasn't unusual for Egypt, but he did glance nervously at the ceiling and hoped there would be no resulting cave-ins. He returned to the glyphs around the burial shelves and found more of the same kind of chants, along with deep stains of something that had been splashed on the walls.

“Unless… unless this wasn't meant to be a tomb.” 

The signs were there, despite the difficulty Lucifer had of believing them. 

“I have never heard of human sacrifice! Not for an Egyptian god!” Lucifer gaped. “But that's what you were, isn't it? You poor devils were shoved into this wall and left to rot! This would certainly be illegal! Or some sort of cult? But for what god? A foreign one? What is a cult doing underneath a temple for Amun-Ra?”

Lucifer shuddered and moved away, wiping his hand on his vest as if to clean off the sins of the cult. If someone was buried here, then it wouldn't be a Pharaoh. He had to keep looking. 

That’s when he saw them. Two sarcophagi leaning against the wall, framing a particular passage. They were the only two objects in the chamber, though how he had missed them before was likely due to how dark it was. He would need a lot of electrical lights in the chamber in order to see it all. 

The fear and discomfort vanished at the excitement of finding not one, but two sarcophagi! Lucifer rushed up to them, gasping and chattering to himself as he circled the pair and took in as many details as he could.

“Look at you beauties! Wow! What are you doing standing up? Aren’t you supposed to be lying down? You must be servants or- maybe priests? Wait, I think this symbol means priest… and this one means… oh wait, hang on! I’ll write your names down and translate them back at camp! Ohoho! Wait until the Museum sees this!”

Lucifer took out his paper from the satchel and quickly copied the glyphs on each coffin. He also drew quick sketches of the painted images, making notes of the way the arms were painted and what objects they held. The coffin on the right was a priest, alright, and the signs pointed to it being male. The coffin on the left had more feminine features, with one eye painted shut, oddly enough, and she appeared to be a servant. 

“You are simply stunning! My apologies for disturbing you, my friends, but I am looking for Pharaoh Irimaet and stumbled upon your resting place.” He chatted with the painted faces as if they could reply. “Why were you placed down here? Were you put here to guard something? Was this a cult that you belonged to? Which god wanted human sacrifice?”

A distant moan of deep agony echoed from the dark void of the passage beyond the two coffins. Lucifer’s hair stood on end, his blood freezing in his veins at the sound. It couldn’t be an earthquake, or the sound of rocks caving in. It was a distinctly human sound of immense suffering.

It took a full minute for him to thaw enough to breathe. Another to lick his lips and hesitantly call out. 

“Adam? L-Lute? That’s really not fucking funny, chums.”

Silence remained. The dead could not speak. 

Suddenly realizing just what he was touching with his bare hands, Lucifer wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He didn’t believe in gods, ghosts, or superstitious nonsense, but he was painfully aware now of where he was, and just how long it had been since any living soul had passed this way. 

His shoes turned towards the deep passage where the sound had come from. They were a lot braver than he felt. 

“It was probably nothing,” he reassured himself. “Maybe some vibrations from above by the digging crew through one of the ventilation shafts” He glanced once more at the sarcophagi and frowned. “Just what are you guarding?”

He had to know. His soul be damned, he had to know! 

Lucifer crept down the corridor, his flashlight barely illuminating the darkness in front of his feet. The only sound now was his ragged breathing. The passage was wide enough for three men to pass through, but he still felt pressed in on all sides. Within a hundred feet he came to a pair of statues guarding the end of the passage, and murals that were so vibrantly painted on both walls of the passage that it made him stop and stare, then nearly turn around and flee. 

“ Sobek? ” Lucifer gasped, willing himself to look and try to decipher the messages carved into the rock. “What are you doing here?”

The imagery of Sobek, the crocodile god who brought order to chaos, was everywhere. He was carved and painted as a tall and imposing man with the head of a crocodile, holding an Ankh in one hand and a staff in the other. The statues themselves were resting crocodiles with Sobek’s headdress, but they were turned towards the end of the looming hallway, as if to guard against what might be coming out .  

Lucifer felt the beads of sweat drip down his shoulder blades beneath his shirt. This deep underground and away from the sun he shouldn’t be sweating, but it wasn’t the temperature that made it difficult for his flashlight to focus. 

Warnings of all kinds, but specifically ones against evil, were surrounding Sobek, begging him to protect against The Creature which lay beyond. Large hieroglyphs that were impossible to ignore warned anyone to flee and save their souls from the one who was damned. 

“The one who is… damned?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “That’s new. I’ve never heard of damnation in the scrolls… Ah, maybe ‘damned’ is the wrong word. Perhaps… ‘cursed’? Yes, that flows better. These glyphs are so hard to translate properly.”

Instead of making him worry more, Lucifer actually relaxed, then gave a short burst of laughter. “Hah! Yes, I see now. They were going on about curses over in the Valley of the Kings. Carpenter sounded like a lunatic. Though if he saw murals like these, I shouldn’t wonder that they believed there was a curse!” 

He took a closer look at the symbols regarding what he could only translate as ‘The Creature’, or ‘beast’, depending on how it was read. It was different from his early studies in the University, but even then he had picked up more of the glyph’s meanings faster than his classmates. Even so, Lucifer could see these symbols were older, and predated ones they had found on the Rosetta Stone.

“My God,” he breathed, eyes widening at the prayers that were carved into the walls. “This couldn’t possibly be a tomb. It’s too… sinister. This will shake what we know about Egypt for certain!”  

He advanced down the passage, past the crocodile statues with their long snouts and bared teeth, the trepidation drowned out by the wild grip of finally making a great discovery! Nothing would stop him. Not warnings, not wards, and not even gods! 

Finally he found some rubble that he had to climb over, even push some rocks to the side from a cave-in that had half blocked the passage, but he finally emerged into a chamber that was so small it barely fit the sarcophagus inside. He was immediately dwarfed by the massive block of stone with writing all over it, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound and his ears roar with a pressure unknown to him. 

The sarcophagus was made of basalt the color of pitch black, an ominous omen to begin with. Usually, sarcophagus would be carved with an image of the dead. Instead, bright red paint wrote out incantations on every available surface, signs to ward off evil, and literally hundreds of the Evil Eye, big and small, in a disorganized fashion that practically screamed haste and fear. Lucifer had never seen anything like it in any of his books. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, trying to take in as much as possible. “This- this can’t be someone they wanted to be found. Who the fuck are you? And what did you do ?”

Light. He needed to see better! Lucifer dug into his satchel and emerged with small tea candles that he scattered around the surface of the sarcophagus, lighting each one and making tiny pockets of glowing yellow that merged into one, revealing more details of the grim chamber. More wards were on the walls, many of them invoking Sobek again, but they covered pictures underneath that showed sinuous lines that reminded Lucifer of a serpent. In the center of one wall, there was a mural of a man in a priest outfit standing before a barge, being denied passage. The man’s facial features were scratched out, leaving only a vague outline of a wig that consisted of multiple braids.

“You’re the same guy from the statue,” Lucifer muttered, frowning slightly as he took in the details. “That’s a very unusual hair style for a priest, but I wouldn’t expect you to earn this kind of burial. Are you the one who sacrificed those poor people out there?”

He continued to look at the murals, noticing how each image of the priest had the same intentional mutilations, the face and identifying markers being violently scratched out from the plaster, and any mentions of a name was similarly violated. 

“But if we don’t know your name… and we can’t see your face… how are you supposed to-”

Cold dread seeped into Lucifer’s bones. He turned stunned eyes towards the sarcophagus. 

“You were denied the Afterlife. I was wrong. You are damned. At least in the way that your people defined it.”

He knew from his studies that preserving the body was only one part of the rituals that surrounded death for the Egyptians. Preserving the name and the person’s image was also vital, as it allowed their spirit to find its way back to the body and reside there. To scratch out the eyes meant the statues could not ‘see’, and the mouth could not ‘speak’. 

History would forget the person and their deeds, for there would be no evidence that they had ever existed. 

Lucifer laid a hand directly over where the face should have been painted on the coffin. Instead of hate or fear for the one lying inside, he felt compassion, and an empathy he couldn’t shake. 

“I have never even heard of someone being purposefully denied the Afterlife, much less a priest. Did you commit some sort of blasphemy? Was it your hand that sacrificed those people? Which god did you sell your soul to that demanded such offerings?”

The stone did not answer. How could it when everything had been sealed within? The man’s soul had no place to go. 

A wild fury took hold of Lucifer, his hands balling into fists that he wanted to beat against the stone and demand it release its prisoner. 

“How dare they do this to you! They placed themselves in judgment over your soul instead of Ma’at, when you should have gotten your right to weigh your own heart like everyone else! Well you won’t be forgotten any longer! I found you! I’ll find your name, it has to be somewhere on your mummy! An amulet, anything!”

Lucifer started searching for the middle seam, his fingers brushing urgently over the surface, cold with age and sorrow, growing more frustrated at the crack that eluded him. He was just about to resort to a mallet when his fingernail caught on a slight fissure that was as straight as a blade. 

He shouted with triumph and removed a chisel from his satchel, using his flashlight to show him where to dig into the seam, breaking the cement and glue of a thousand years ago. It practically crumbled beneath his tool while he meticulously worked his way around the entire circumference. He didn’t think he could lift the heavy lid on his own, but he hoped he could shove it just right. 

Briefly he thought of Adam, how they would likely want to be present during such an important discovery, but Lucifer’s pride and jealousy shoved those thoughts aside. This was his mummy! His moment! Adam could gloat all he wanted to the museum and to Mammon, but this belonged to Lucifer ! 

“Get fucked, Adam,” he mumbled before bracing his hands on the lid and pushing with all of his strength, straining to get even an inch of movement. 

There was an urgency that drove Lucifer to use every fiber of strength he had in his muscles. For his entire life he felt like something was missing, like an important memory had been forgotten but he had no clues for what to look for. He had been small and looking in corners and cabinets, dragged out of rabbit holes by his mother, covered in dirt, asked what he was looking for and being unable to answer, so he would cry instead. His obsession had latched onto Irimaet, the Forgotten Pharaoh, with a vengeance that shocked even the most devoted of Egyptologists. 

And now he was here, with an unknown mummy, whose name had been stricken from the record. 

“Come- on-!” Lucifer gritted through clenched teeth. “Open, ya bastard! Don’t you want to be released? Don’t you want to be remembered ?” 

The lid shifted an inch, breaking the seal. It startled Lucifer so badly that he yelped and flinched away, rubbing his hands. He laughed at his own trembling, but the mirth died in his throat.

A thin vapor seeped from the sarcophagus, curling and wispy, impossible to mistake for sealed air or dust. Lucifer started to panic at the sight, worried that whatever the vapor was would be poisonous. 

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

He scrambled away, back towards the doorway until he stumbled in the dark and went down, crashing to the floor just as the vapor reached him. A crushing pressure on his throat cut off his airways. Lucifer scratched at his skin, choking, gasping for air. 

He was drowning, held beneath the waters of the Nile. Someone was holding him down, a heavy weight was on his chest, and the merciless grip of fingers squeezed his windpipe shut. 

He was dying. 

Someone was screaming in agony, the sound slicing his soul in half. He wanted to find that voice and comfort the sound that cried with the tears of a thousand years of solitude and anguish. The scream was lonely… so lonely. Searching for someone that had been torn from them. 

Lucifer reached out, trying to gasp with a broken voice that everything was ok now, that he was there, and they would never be alone again. 

 

Then the lights went out, and he slumped against the ancient wall.

Chapter 3: By The Banks of the Nile

Summary:

Lucifer discovers not one, but three mummies. They walk, talk, and make jokes. One of them proclaims himself to be the High Priest of Amun, and Lucifer's lover in a past life. Is he drunk?

Notes:

Thank you for the ENTHUSIASTIC reception to this fic! Natt and I are reading every comment and loving them!!

Cw: body horror pertained to mummies returning to life.

The New Kingdom

The heat was unbearable this far out in the desert, away from the cool breezes of the Nile, but Lucifer didn’t have much choice in where he was able to go. Being a slave meant he had no choices at all. But being Pharoah’s personal favorite meant he had privileges that others did not get. 

Which was why he was sitting beneath a shady canopy, the air stirred by lesser slaves holding large fans made of feathers, and sipping the finest wine that Egypt had to offer. He didn’t understand why he had to be in the desert, watching the vultures circle overhead as they waited for the battlefield to be abandoned so they could start their feast. He could wait for Pharaoh back at the palace instead of out here. 

Again, no personal choices. He waited for Pharaoh where she told him to wait. 

Lucifer tugged on the gold collar around his neck, engraved with the Pharaoh’s name, and tried to keep the distaste from his features. Pharaoh hated it when he expressed anything other than abject joy and adoration whenever she was around. He had to be happy to serve her, or there would be punishment. 

He glanced around the makeshift command tent with open walls but did not recognize any of the other attendants. Not that it would matter. He couldn’t even make friends as he was still a beginner in speaking Egyptian, and no one wanted to mess with Pharaoh’s favorite. 

Sighing with intense loneliness, he lifted his cup for another lazy sip when he spotted a retinue of people approaching, with one figure in the middle wearing the most gold and the royal blue and white striped headdress. Hastily he put the cup down and scrambled to his feet, beaming wide as if he was truly excited to see his master. 

“Lilith!” He cried, using the name he had given her from his home country, springing out from the shade of the canopy to launch himself at the middle figure, who stopped to catch him. “You’re finally back! I missed you!”

A rumble of shock went through some of the people nearby, their eyes white with fear as they looked to Pharaoh to see how she would respond, but the ones who had witnessed this before paid it almost no mind. 

Pharaoh laughed brightly and placed a fond hand on top of the golden hair. She was taller than Lucifer, and most of the people in her retinue for that matter, and instead of ordering Lucifer’s immediate execution for not showing the proper respect, she laid a pleased kiss on his forehead and gently moved him to the side. 

“I’m sorry, kitten, I will greet you when I am able. I don’t want any blood or battlefield bits to mar your perfect skin.”

Lucifer stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “But I missed you… oh! I know! I’ll order a bath! And then you can relax while I clean you!”

Pharaoh looked pleased with that suggestion. “Do so. Have it ready by the time I am finished with my generals.”

Lucifer stepped back and bowed. “It shall be done!”

The retinue moved past, following Pharaoh into the tent, but one pair of eyes caught Lucifer’s attention. They belonged to a priest, evident by the leopard hide draped over his torso and one shoulder, and they were dark and curious as they looked him up and down. Lucifer stared back, lifting his chin and frowning, not at all pleased to be so openly examined by anyone other than Pharaoh. 

“Something you need, your grace?”

The eyebrows shot up, the full lips widening on the dark face, revealing even teeth. For a priest he was strange for having a head of tiny braids, all ending with gold beads that sparkled in the sun. Lucifer thought all priests were required to be shaved. 

“Your accent is strange,” the priest said. “I do not recognize it. Where are you from?”

Lucifer crossed his arms. “I don’t have to tell you. Everyone knows I only answer to Pharaoh.”

The man chuckled, a soft sound deep in his chest that made Lucifer’s stomach swoop. The sound reminded him of crackling fireside stories and the heady smell of the forests of his home. 

Damn them for bringing up such painful memories!

“Such boldness in one so small. No wonder she favors you.”

Lucifer shivered, despite the sun beating down on his bare shoulders. Just who was this guy?

“I must see to Pharaoh’s bath,” Lucifer mumbled, sliding his gaze away and turning about. His display of rude manners was only possible because of being Pharaoh’s favorite, and he was painfully aware of it. But it was the only satisfaction he was allowed to have. 

A voice from the canopy called out. “Akathor! Come and make a prediction for Pharaoh!”

Lucifer paused, feeling cold all over. Had anyone seen him talking with the priest? Would that be enough to get him in trouble?

“Worry not,” said the warm and amused voice behind him. “I am Pharaoh’s High Priest the First Prophet of Amun-Ra. Also her favorite. My predictions are never wrong. Go see to the bath, Favored One.”

 Lucifer didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. Any amount of interest in anyone else would trigger Pharaoh’s jealousy. He had seen it before, just within a week of being at the palace. He could still hear the male slave’s screams. 

There was a litter for his personal use when he wasn’t sharing Pharaoh’s larger one, carried by powerful slaves who took him back across the distance they had covered that morning to the nearby fortified city that had been under siege until recently. That’s what Pharaoh and her army had been doing there, liberating a strategic city from invaders. Of course Pharaoh would be temporarily residing in the local noble’s palace, and Lucifer had command of her attendants for all her needs. 

It was a relief to be back within stone walls that were cooler than the dry desert air. Lucifer made a note to rub aloe on his skin to avoid blistering. His pale skin was his asset, and he needed it to be as smooth and perfect as a baby’s to continue to be valuable. 

He was halfway through overseeing the bath preparations when his thoughts wandered back to the priest. Akathor, huh? High Priest of Amun-Ra and Pharaoh’s chief magician. He had heard the name before but had no face to connect it to until just now. 

“Where are you from?”

No one had asked him that. At least not in a way that indicated they cared what the answer was. Lucifer was foreign, exotic. His features of gold blonde hair and pale blue eyes, along with his alabaster colored skin elevated him to the eyes of potential buyers in the slave pens. He had arrived in the capital thankfully unmolested, as his captors recognized they could get more for him if he was untouched. Being presented to Pharaoh wearing nothing but golden shackles had been terrifying, but one look and he was coveted by the most powerful being in the civilized world. 

“Worry not,” the priest said. 

As if he knew about Lucifer’s fears, and the sickle’s edge he constantly danced upon to keep Pharaoh pleased. 

As if he cared enough to reassure a slave. 

“Ridiculous,” Lucifer scoffed in his native language. 

“Favored One?”

He blinked, realizing one of the women had heard him and had paused in putting the flower petals in the pool. He quickly flashed her a smile to show that all was well. 

“It’s nothing, I’m feeling the heat is all. More lotus blossoms. They are Pharaoh’s favorite.”

The preparations continued until he was satisfied, then he retreated to his own room to fetch his personal bottle of oil. A victory meant Pharaoh would want to celebrate, which meant he needed to prepare himself for the evening. It always went more smoothly if he used the oil beforehands. 

“Such a shame you have no womb,” Pharaoh had once remarked. “I would have made you a wife.”

Lucifer shuddered. He was grateful there was nothing else that Pharaoh could take from him. Back home he would have been helping his father bring in the harvest and spinning wool with his mother to make warm clothes for the winter. There was no winter in Egypt, even though the nights could be just as freezing. 

Lucifer used his prep time to distract himself from the memories. It had been months since he had properly thought about home. 

He was going to kill that damn priest. 

Two days later he saw the priest again while at a banquet. Lucifer was lounging next to a column on a balcony that overlooked the Nile, momentarily forgotten and allowed to breathe in peace while Pharaoh was busy speaking with dignitaries from Nubia. His moments of solitude were few and far between, so he savored them before he would be called back to Pharaoh’s side. 

The scent of sandalwood and desert rose alerted him to a new presence before a voice spoke. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t see you there.” 

Lucifer turned to see the smiling priest from the other day, dressed in fine linen that was cinched at the waist by a beaded belt, and holding two cups of wine. Two cups? 

One was handed to him. “You ought to be more careful, Favored One. I could have stepped on you!” 

Lucifer’s jaw dropped open as he instinctively took the cup. Did they just tease him for being short?

“Are you stupid?” 

“That’s a bold question to pose to a high priest,” the man leaned on the stone, looking completely at ease and undisturbed by the fire he was playing with. 

Lucifer shook his head in disbelief, glancing back at the banquet hall that was just out of sight. “You know it’s dangerous to speak to me. Everyone knows this! You have to leave before someone sees us!” 

The man laughed, sending swooping cranes through Lucifer’s stomach. “You needn’t worry. I am the one who correctly predicted Pharaoh’s victory. I was able to scry the location of the Hittite general and lead the chariots that broke through the lines to the city. Pharaoh will forgive me of any indiscretion during my own banquet.”

Lucifer pressed his lips together as he considered that. He knew the banquet had been in favor of someone for their heroic deeds during the recent battle, but he hadn’t been paying attention to the name. 

“Wait, you lead the chariots? What about Pharaoh?”

“She was busy with the Hittite general,” the priest smiled and lifted the cup to his lips. “May Amun-Ra’s favor always shine on her.”

“So, you’re a soldier as well as a priest?”

“I am whatever Pharaoh wants me to be, ketet.” 

Lucifer frowned and pressed himself back against the column. He was also whatever Pharaoh wanted him to be, but not in any dignified way. 

“That’s not my name,” he ended up growling. It had taken him a moment to realize he was being called “little one.” 

“Oh?” The myriad of golden beads at the tips of the priest’s braids clattered together when he tilted his head. “What is your name, then? No, not your Egyptian name,” he interrupted before Lucifer could finish speaking. “The name your mother blessed you with.”

The request startled Lucifer. Again he was faced with memories of his home, his chest squeezing painfully as the memory of his mother’s face brought tears to his ears. He wanted to scrub them away before he could be mocked, but that would smudge his kohl and then Pharaoh would know he had cried and then-

“Apologies, Favored One,” the priest said softly. He handed Lucifer a small scrap of linen. “Wipe your eyes carefully, then I can reapply your kohl.”

Lucifer snatched the offered cloth and pressed it to his eyes, trying to stem the flow. Maybe if he tossed himself from the balcony then he wouldn’t have to think about-

“My name is Akathor,” the priest said, as a way to distract while Lucifer gathered himself. “It was rude of me to ask your name without offering my own.”

“I don’t care,” Lucifer sniffed. “I can’t say it anyway. Just like I can’t say Pharaoh’s name so I- I gave her one. Your language is full of hard sounds that feel like I’m constantly spitting.”

The priest chuckled. “Yes, I hear you struggle to pronounce our words. You are doing an admirable job for being so new to it.”

Lucifer’s anger had helped dry his eyes. He was able to lower the cloth and glare at them. “Don’t you dare make fun of me!” 

“Who said I was making fun?” The priest’s smile returned. “It’s only a joke if someone is laughing. Now, you were about to tell me your name.”

Lucifer stubbornly raised his chin. “Why should I? You couldn’t pronounce it anyway.”

“Hmm, try me.”

Fine. If this idiot wanted to risk his fucking neck then Lucifer would grant him the opportunity. 

“It’s Lucifer. Go ahead!” 

The priest twisted his lips around in such a comical fashion, just to attempt to produce the ‘loo’ and ‘fuh’ sounds that Lucifer couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from his middle, erupting like fireflies in the dark. It was hilarious to hear them try. Even Lilith had struggled! 

“Wait, I can do it! Say it again, only slower!” The priest demanded, joining in the laughter. 

Lucifer smothered his laughter with a hand and tried to teach them. “Loo-”

“Rooooo-”

“No no, loo- take the tip of your tongue and curl it against your teeth.”

“Should I be licking my nose?”

“Something like that.”

It took several attempts and a lot more giggles, but the priest was finally able to pronounce ‘Lucifer’ well enough that it wasn’t instantly offensive. Lucifer was so pleased that he decided he would give them a name as well. 

“I’ll call you ‘Alastor’. It’s easier than… whatever your name was.”

“Now you are making fun!” The priest laughed. “Giving me a name with that wretched sound in the middle of it!” 

It took even longer for him to pronounce ‘Alastor’, leaving Lucifer in stitches. He hadn’t laughed so hard since before he had been brought to Egypt. 

“And what is my new name sake?” Alastor asked. “I do hope it is something noble!”

Lucifer snickered. This was the best part. “Oh, it’s a goat!” 

Alastor stared in horror. “A goat?”

“Well, sort of a goat. More like… an antelope? Isn’t that what they are called? They roam in the forests and we use them for meat and hides. We call them ‘deer’, but I don’t know the Egyptian word for them. Oh, they look like this!” 

Lucifer lifted one of his necklaces, at first a simple looking string of beads, but on closer inspection the beads were not any that were Egyptian made. Instead they were a dark honey color, and some of them were in different shapes. One shape resembled a four legged animal with horns. 

“What are those made of?” Alastor asked, reaching to take the bead and inspect it. 

Which made him lean into Lucifer’s space, close enough to inhale the slave’s perfume. 

Both of them froze, realizing in an instant how dangerous this was. 

Lucifer was the first to break the tension, leaning away and reclaiming his necklace. “Ah- Amber! They are beads of amber. Um… Amber is- like jewels that come from ancient trees. We- we use them a lot cuz we- we don’t have precious metals like gold or…” 

He was rambling again. Alastor was still close, the mixture of sandalwood and desert rose clouding his senses. Their eyes were watching his lips like they were interested in what he had to say. 

“I should get back to Pharaoh,” Lucifer said breathlessly. He slid from the banister and set his wine cup down. “Um, how is my kohl?”

Alastor blinked, coming back to life. “It’s perfect. Truly, she won’t even notice.”

“Okay,” Lucifer backed away. “Th-thanks. Um, do me a favor and don’t get me in trouble. Once during a banquet is enough, but next time Pharaoh might not be so forgiving.”

“I shall be discreet,” the priest replied. 

Lucifer paused, then nodded before turning away. 

It would have to be enough. 

Later after the banquet, while Lucifer sobbed into a pillow because Lilith had been a little too rough with him, he clutched his amber beads and thought of the deep forests of his home, his hide boots stepping over ferns and moss covered tree trunks. He remembered his first successful hunt and the way he prayed to the gods for providing the buck to keep his family fed. 

Alastor. 

The gods continued to provide for him, even in a foreign land. 

 

Present Day

 

Lucifer came to with his head resting on a rock. He shifted off the stabbing surface, moaning in pain as he rubbed the back of his skull, blindly searching for any signs of bleeding. He felt a lump, but no cut. Thank goodness. Blood would be terrible for conservation. 

First he found the flashlight that thankfully had not been broken in his fall, and using the wall to stagger to his feet, Lucifer caught a glimpse of the sarcophagus and went deathly still. 

It was empty, the lid completely knocked to the ground on the other side and split in half. 

“No…” Lucifer started to panic. “No, no, NO!” 

He gripped the side of the basalt stone and stared into the empty space below him, looking around the chamber frantically as if the mummy had stood up and walked away. 

“Where did it go?! It was right there! I swear it! No this can't be happening- it can't! I was supposed to find his name and then-!” 

He stopped, then spun back towards the doorway. “Was I robbed? How long was I out? Fuck, my head still hurts…” 

He felt insane, talking to himself while alone in a tomb, clutching his head in both hands as flashes of his dream broke out, confusing him even more. Air. He just needed fresh air…

From the deep passageway, Lucifer heard a pair of voices, male and female. He was on the verge of calling out Adam's name to see if they had found him when a sudden icy fear gripped his middle. What if it was the robbers who had stolen his mummy? 

Lucifer hastily ducked behind the sarcophagus and out of sight, trying to calm his breathing before he remembered to turn off his light. Only a few of his tea candles remained, flickering in the corners where he had placed them, the only glowing spots to keep the darkness at bay.

He heard the shuffle of two pairs of feet across the sands, and muffled voices. His heart was in his throat as he tried to breathe silently, still desperately hoping it was Adam and Lute. 

“This is the place. It looks worse than the last time we saw it. Wait, where is he? Did you lose the master again, Nafir?” 

Definitely not Adam. 

“Me?!” A shrill female voice answered the gruff one. “I've been sleeping by the river same as you! Master! Time to wake up! Come out, come out!” 

“Stop shoutin’, ya idiot!” the gruff voice demanded. “There's someone in here.” 

The girl robber, Nafir, gasped. “How do you know that?!”

“Someone had to break the seal, didn’t they? See the candles?”

“Ooh, so pretty!” 

“Don't touch ‘em! By Ra’s left ear, you are gonna set yourself on fucking fire-” 

Lucifer had to shove his hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up. The robbers would find him, and they would take all of his research and leave him for dead and then- 

The sound of feet on crunching sand made him look up just in time to see a human head wrapped in brown scarves with the right eye uncovered peer around the corner, then the female voice released a squeal of delight. 

“I found him! Haaskhet! He’s right here!”

Lucifer couldn't help it. He released the scream he had been holding back, turning his flashlight on and pointing it directly in the robber’s face, blinding her so he could scramble away and towards the door.

“Get away from me! The others know I'm down here!”

Strong hands gripped him, and he came face to face with the second robber. Only this guy was covered head to toe in what could only be described as burial linen, and his eyes were completely covered, though he seemed to have no problem seeing where he was going.

“Steady there! We ain’t gonna hurt ya- did you say others? What others?” 

Another scream ripped from Lucifer’s throat at the horrifying realization that the robbers were dressed up as mummies. He swung his flashlight, missing the man’s head by an inch. 

“I said get back!” Lucifer dashed away again, but he was cornered by the far wall, away from the escape. He was breathing heavily and clutching his satchel, ready to reach inside for the mallet if he had to. “What are you doing here?! This is my dig site, authorized by the Museum and the Egyptian government! If- if you don't return my mummy then- I’ll call the police!”

The two robbers shuffled in front of him, looking at each other curiously. Lucifer had the feeling they thought he was insane. 

“He sounds funny,” the girl giggled. “Wonder what a “po-lees’ is.” 

“He definitely ain’t the master,” the man crossed his wrapped arms with a huff. “Must be a robber.” 

Lucifer flared up in anger at the accusation. “A ro- a robber?? You are the robbers! What is the point of dressing up as the dead, eh? Going to scare off some tourists? There isn't a city around for miles!” 

The man held a hand up briefly. “Wait… what do you mean no city for miles? This temple is near the palace. And we ain't ‘dressed up’. Though they did a shitty job of wrapping my legs. Can barely bend the right one.”

“I think one of my fingers fell off,” the girl giggled. “They don't use the fancy stuff for slaves.” 

Lucifer shook his head and frowned. Slaves? Falling fingers? Their speech didn't make any sense. 

“Who-whoever you are, just- give back my mummy and- and I won't tell the authorities who you are!” 

The girl gasped. “Haaskhet! He means to call the temple guards on us!” 

“Relax, Nafir. I got a bad feeling that's not what he meant. Let me look at ya.” 

The robber stepped closer, and Lucifer involuntarily flinched, pressing his back against the plaster wall and praying he wasn't destroying any of it. The man wrapped in linen bent and twisted until he was able to get a better look at Lucifer's face. 

“Pharaoh’s beard! It's the Favored One!” 

The girl pressed forward as well, crowding into Lucifer’s space, making him realize that she was nearly a head shorter than him. 

“Really?! Here?? All this way? Just to see us?!” She squealed and reached out for a hug, wrapping her arms around Lucifer's waist. They felt like dried rushes. 

“G-get off!” Lucifer said again, pushing her off and sliding sideways along the wall. Something about these two was making his skin crawl. “I don't know what you're talking about! I'm with the museum, and I- I have permission to be here!” 

The man heaved a sigh and shook his head while the girl looked and sounded dejected. 

“What's the matter, Favored One?” She asked, as if she was about to cry. “Don't you know who we are?” 

“Obviously he doesn't! Look at him! He looks like he ain't never seen a Khet before in his life!” 

Lucifer perked up slightly. “Khet? As in… the body? It's the vessel for the Ka, isn't it?” 

“Huh. So you know something,” the man crossed his wrapped arms and grumbled. “I see what's going on. Fuck, I'm tired, and I've only been awake for ten minutes. I want to go back to the river bank.”

“But the master called us!” 

“I know, I know!” He turned back to Lucifer. Or at least, the wrapped head and covered eyes turned back in their direction. “Did you see the High Priest earlier, Favored One?” 

Lucifer opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “A-a what- who? What are you even talking about? Are there more of you weirdos dressed up around my dig site?” 

They pointed towards the sarcophagus with a wrapped finger. “Him! The High Priest! You are the one who broke the seal, right?”

Lucifer licked his lips. “I- I needed to identify- Wait, he’s a high priest? The one on the wall mural?” No use denying it, so he tilted his chin up proudly. “Yes, I did! It's going to be the biggest discovery in the century, it will dwarf Carpenter and his child king!” 

“Uh huh, thought so. Now answer me this: what Pharaoh is reigning right now? How long has it been since Pharaoh Irimaet entered the Eternal Sleep?” 

Lucifer's head was swimming. He felt dizzy, like the chamber was spinning. He braced himself with a hand on the wall. 

“I- what do you mean by that? It's been… thousands of years- we don't know the exact dates when she ruled but we estimate it to be between…” 

His knees buckled as his vision blurred. 

“It's- the king… King George is on the throne and… Britain is…”

“He's sick, Haashket! Oh this is bad! Very bad! We can't let the Favored One die!” 

“He won't die, Nafir, he just needs clean air. Help me carry him!” 

Lucifer violently rejected the offer, despite the room spinning. “No! Don't touch me! Not while you're dressed up like- like-”

“Like a mummy? Hate to break it to you, Favored One, but we are the real thing. Bastard dragged us back from the Afterlife but he’s nowhere to be found. We just need some Ka to make us brand new.” 

One touch of the burial linen wrapped hand on his arm and Lucifer’s knees gave out, groaning as he dropped the flashlight and grasped his head in pain. “N-no… I don't want…” 

“Leave him to me,” a new voice broke in, one that was low and calm, and oh so achingly familiar. The two robbers immediately murmured some form of welcome, but Lucifer couldn’t hear what they said through the pain. Arms caught him from behind and lifted him from the floor as if he weighed no more than a feather. 

“Douse the flames.”

Lucifer's eyes wouldn't focus, but he managed to catch a glimpse of a dark face above him, framed by a multitude of tiny braids, before the candles were snuffed out, plunging them into the darkness of the tomb. If he closed his eyes he could focus on the strength of the arms that held him and the scent of sandalwood and desert rose that surrounded him. 

“Who are you?” Lucifer whispered, his ears straining in the dark to pick up the sounds of three pairs of feet crunching over sand and rocks. He didn't think the one carrying him would answer, but then he felt the chest begin to rumble. 

“I am the one who tried and failed to free you from your golden cage. The one who has waited thousands of years to hear your voice again.”

“Don't be silly…” Lucifer mumbled, still feeling lightheaded. Why did these arms make him feel so safe? “No one lives a thousand years.”

“You are correct, my heart. One can exist without living. Without you I was only a scream in the dark.” 

The quality of the foot steps changed, and Lucifer knew it was because they had emerged from the smaller passage to a larger chamber. Was it the burial chamber with the two coffins? Where were they in the Temple? His mental map had been scrambled as thoroughly as his wits. 

“The entrance will be blocked, Master,” the gruff one reappeared from behind. 

“It has been opened,” the Voice said. “Remember that you cannot be seen by the living until I can restore your Khet.” 

“Yes, Master,” the two voices said in unison, the gruff one more reluctantly than the girl's. 

Lucifer opened his eyes and thought the pitch black had lightened ever so slightly. Enough to see shadows and nothing more. The looming shape of a head above him seemed oddly familiar. 

“Why do they call you that?” Lucifer asked. 

“Shhh, my heart. Save your breath for the open sky. We have both been in the dark for too long.” 

“I’m not… your heart…” Lucifer frowned. “M’name’s… Lucifer.”

“Yes, I know. Lucifer, my heart,” The Voice stumbled over the ‘L’ sound, and elongated the ‘ss’ in the middle. “I can get used to it. The language has changed much since we’ve been apart, but your name remains the same.”

That didn’t make any sense to Lucifer, either. Maybe if he went to sleep and his head stopped hurting, then he would be able to figure things out. 

At last fresh air rolled over Lucifer like a wave, and some of the dizziness cleared. He opened his eyes again, straining to see the features of the face above him, but aside from a strong chin and jaw framed by dark hair that was cut short, the dark was still too deep to recognize anything. 

The figure carrying him suddenly stopped and the sound of voices calling his name made Lucifer look around. They were close to the entrance of the temple where he had chiseled away at the rock wall, and the voices were getting closer. 

“This is where I leave you, my heart. The next time we meet I will be more as you remember.”

Lucifer was settled down on the sandy floor, his satchel placed by his feet. He made some mumbling objection but the presence was gone. He was alone again. 

Again?

“No… come back…”

He was struggling to sit up when the stillness of the temple was shattered by Adam’s loud cursing. 

“He’s here! Bring a stretcher! Come on, faster! If he dies then I’m in deep shit with Mammon!” 

Lucifer placed a hand to his head to block out the noise. “Not so loud… idiot…”

He flinched at Adam’s rough touch, but it didn’t feel like dry rushes but like flesh and blood instead. It was surprising enough that he leaned into it, letting himself be manhandled onto a stretcher and carried out of the dig site. Adam lectured him all the way back to camp. 

“What the hell were you thinking wandering off on your own on a completely unmapped and unknown dig?! I about had a heart attack when you went missing! You’re suppposed to be this really knowledgeable archeologist and get you fucking lost?!”

Lucifer let him ramble knowing he couldn’t make him shut up anyway. Maybe he was suffering from sun sickness. Maybe he just needed to lie down for a bit. Maybe that was why he kept getting flashes of images of the sun glittering off a reed bordered river, or the underside of a billowing canopy. 

When he was finally aware of his surroundings again Lucifer realized he was inside the medical tent with a damp cloth on his forehead and one of their crew, the physician, standing over him. It took only a second for Lucifer to realize they were unbuttoning his shirt and then he jolted upright, shoving them away. 

“Shit! What the hell are you doing?!”

The physician, an elderly man with a forehead that was much too big, yelped in shock. “I am only removing layers to reduce the risk of overheating, of course!”

Lucifer shuddered violently. He had almost been exposed. His career would be over if that ever happened. Not to mention Adam would…

“Haven’t you ever heard of asking?!” Lucifer snapped, unable to be grateful when one wrong move would make him lose everything he had ever worked towards. 

The physician sniffed and removed a stethoscope from his medical bag. “Doctors don’t ask for consent from the dying.”

“I’m not dying!” 

“Clearly your lungs work, now let me listen to your heart or I cannot release you with a clean bill of health. You might have breathed in some toxic air down in that hole.”

Lucifer gritted his teeth but kept his shirt protectively shut while the doctor listened to his heart. It had to have been toxic air that made him dizzy and see, or hear, things. It was the only logical conclusion. 

“Hmm, you sound right as rain. Just be careful next time, yes?”

Lucifer leapt from the cot he was lying on and put his clothes back together. “Yes, thank you doctor! I will follow your advice. So sorry to bother you. I’ll go drink some water and get some rest.” 

“Oh, let me make you a tonic for sleeping-”

“No! No, that’s alright! I don’t need any drugs or anything, can’t stand the stuff. Thanks anyway, Doctor!”

He bolted from the tent and ran smack into Lute, who grabbed him by the arm. “Whoa, steady on. I was just coming to check on you. Come on, Adam is in his tent.”

Lucifer winced. “Can’t I have a minute to myself? I could use a drink and take a piss, for God’s sake.”

Crude language never worked on Lute, who looked like she dragged bodies off a battlefield for a living. She rolled her eyes and released him. 

“Fine, but he wants to talk to you. About the dig, of course. So hurry up.”

Lucifer grumbled as he shoved his way past her. “Can’t even recover from breathing toxic air and fainting without someone riding my ass for a fucking translation…”

Of course he wanted to go over his notes and figure out just what the hell he had discovered, but first he needed to get a fucking grip. He went to his private tent and tied the flaps closed, then he was able to collapse in a chair and groan, feeling like he had been dragged across the Sahara and back. 

 Lifting his fingers to press against his skull, he realized that the headache was gone. Whatever had happened in the tomb must have cleared his system. He had to go back, he had to find the robbers and get back the mummy they stole and then…

“Lilith…”

Lucifer startled and looked around. He was alone. 

“That… sounds crazy,” he rubbed his face. Clearly he was still tired, but he didn’t have time to rest. He needed to translate what he had sketched from the walls. “There is no mention of a different name. Was it before her rise to the throne? Her name was Irimaet, there isn’t even an ‘L’ sound in the Egyptian phonetics… oh, where is my satchel?”

It was on his cot. He dug to the bottom looking for his sketchbook but couldn’t find it. Adam! It had to be him. Lucifer stomped off to the man’s tent and called out before shoving the flaps aside. Once he had walked in on Adam and Lute fucking and he would never make that mistake again. 

“Adam! Where is my sketchbook!” 

“Oh, so the sleeping beauty is awake!” 

Adam was leaning back in his chair with his grubby hands all over Lucifer’s sketchbook, grinning like an idiot. 

“There’s some nice pictures in here.”

“Give me that!”

“Hey! I was just gonna describe what you found in my letter to the Museum, that’s all!”

“I need this to translate!” Lucifer huffed, flipping through the pages to make sure nothing was missing. Good, it was all there. He sighed and returned to glaring at Adam. “I will also be writing to the Museum, so don’t think about taking all the credit!” 

Adam shrugged in that annoying American fashion of his. “Wouldn’t even be here without ya, sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that!” Lucifer snapped while he turned to the most recent pages. Completely forgetting about Adam, he sat down and stole a pen to make some notes, mumbling to himself about the various glyphs. “No, nothing that could possibly be translated with an L-sound. Every cartouche says “Irimaet”. So where the hell did ‘Lilith’ come from?” 

“You found somethin'?”

Lucifer yelped with how close Adam's voice was. “Don't do that!” Adam only snickered in his obnoxious manner and backed off to light his cigar. “As a matter of fact, I did! I found some hidden chambers! With no less than three sarcophagus!” 

Adam fumbled the cigar. “Y-you did what?! Seriously? Why didn’t you fucking say so! Is it the Pharaoh chick you’re lookin’ for?”

Lucifer scowled. “Her name is Lilith! No way, shit, it’s Irimaet!” He shook his head as a stab of pain behind his eye distracted him. Quick as a flash, it was gone. “And no, it wasn’t her. The first two were attendants, a priest and a servant. The main sarcophagus was…”

Black basalt stone covered in painted red warnings. 

“A-actually, I don’t know who it was.”

“What? Why the fuck not?” Adam demanded. 

“Because his name and likeness has been scratched out!” Lucifer replied, closing his sketchbook and crossing it over his chest. “I’ll find it, there has to be an amulet on the body.”

Adam rolled his eyes and fetched his lighter. “Well, a mummy is a mummy. And you found three of them? Fuck yeah, the Museum is gonna love us! I might even get a Christmas bonus.”

Lucifer scoffed and turned to go. He was stopped by a rough hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey Lucy-”

He shrugged Adam’s hand off but paused at the uncharacteristic look of concern on the American’s face. 

“Be more careful next time. I don’t like seeing you carried on a stretcher.”

It was the first time Adam showed anything relatively normal, so Lucifer thawed slightly. “I’m sorry for getting lost. I won’t do it again.”

Adam nodded and shooed him out. “Go get some fucking sleep, then. We need you in tip top shape now that we have an entire temple to dig up.”

Unused to such consideration, Lucifer merely nodded and then booked it back across the camp to his own tent, stopping by the supply tent for some water and food while he worked on translating the glyphs. 

Except he never got that far. He stepped into his tent and was immediately taken aback by the presence of another in his personal space, their stature bent over his desk and perusing the artifacts there. Their dress was of modern desert clothes as the crew would wear, sand colored and breathable. His first impressions of this stranger was: tall and creepy. 

“Um, excuse me! Are you a part of the crew? What are you bloody doing in my-”

The stranger turned and all the breath was robbed from every vessel of Lucifer’s lungs. 

The eyes were warm chocolate colored, his hair short and flat ironed, brushed to the side of his face in a rough American style, as if he had woken up and simply shook his hair into place. 

It was his smile that caused Lucifer’s pulse to jump into orbit, broad and teasing, like a joke was lingering around the edges. It begged him to laugh along with it, or dive into its mysteries. 

Who the fuck was this guy?

“Ah, there you are, mry. I was beginning to worry about you.”

Lucifer distantly recognized the syllables of an Egyptian word, pronounced in such a way it sounded like a purr. His mouth was so dry he had to swallow a few times before he could speak. 

“Ah- what did you call me? Do I know you?”

The stranger nodded. “You might not know it yet, but it will come to you. We’ve been apart for a long time, mry. My dear. Forgive me, my tongue is still getting used to this modern speech. I may slip into my native pattern now and then until I am more accustomed.”

Lucifer pressed his lips together with a rising irritation to shove out the unexplainable emotions. Why couldn’t he be left alone for a single goddamn hour so he could study?!

“Not to be rude, but this is my private sleeping tent. You still haven’t told me your name, or if you’re a part of the crew or not. So you better explain yourself before I call for security.”

By “security” he meant Lute, but this stranger wouldn’t know that. 

Instead of getting upset, the stranger gave Lucifer a bow that looked… weird. It was more like a kneel onto one knee with one hand pressed over his heart in a salute, something that would be given to a king, or a Pharaoh. 

“May Amun-Ra’s light shine upon you forever.”

Double fucking weird. 

The man straightened up to their full height. “I am Akathor, High Priest of Pharaoh Irimaet and the most prolific of her court magicians. But you know me for the name you bestowed: Alastor.”

Not a single sound was made in the tent for a stretched out, awkward moment. The stranger seemed eager for Lucifer’s reaction, leaning forward expectantly. 

“Is that supposed to be funny?” Lucifer demanded, feeling as if the stranger was taking the piss. 

The man, Alastor, tilted his head. “I told no joke.”

Lucifer scoffed and tossed his sketchbook sideways onto his satchel. “Oh sure. I’m just supposed to believe that some random stranger in my tent with a made up name of a made up priest just happens to know about the Pharaoh whose name is on the wall of a temple that we just discovered. A Pharaoh who has been dead and buried for thousands of years, with so little record remaining that most people think she is only a myth! And they don’t believe me when I say she’s a woman! Yeah, that’s so funny I am in stitches.” 

The dark chocolate eyes gazed to the side, looking troubled. “I… I see. This is going to be harder than I thought. Has it truly been that long? Time is nothing in the darkness.” He shuddered, as if remembering some horrible nightmare. “If there is little record of Irimaet then there is even less of me. Adhmose surely would have seen to that.”

“What are you talking about?!” Lucifer threw up his arms. “You better start making sense or I’m calling security!” 

The strange man with the mysterious smile hummed and approached Lucifer. “Perhaps this will help you remember me, mry.”

Lucifer remained frozen as they drew closer, his body momentarily not his own. The large, sun darkened hands took a hold of his face and the mysterious smile leaned down, lips brushing along his like they were asking permission before they pressed firmly into a kiss that was both foreign and familiar. 

Sandalwood and desert rose enveloped him, luring him down a track of embedded memory that led straight to a locked door. There was something immensely important behind that door, and the stranger apparently thought the kiss would be a magical key to open it. 

Lucifer’s heart beat with such urgency against the door he almost thought it was a prisoner. 

Then sheer panic took over and he was once more in charge of his limbs and facilities. 

He placed his hands on the opposite chest and shoved, then swung a right hook for good measure, clipping the man on the jaw and sending him tumbling backwards. 

“Bastard! What do you think you’re doing?!” Lucifer’s face was aflame with heat, his fingers touching the lips that still tingled. “That was my first kiss, you asshole!”

Alastor rubbed his jaw and was both shocked and disappointed. “You still don’t… remember?”

“No! Because that’s fucking crazy! Do you have any idea how insane it sounds to claim to be a High Priest who has been dead for several thousand years?!”

“Then how did you find my tomb?” Alastor challenged, his voice hardening slightly as he realized the one he had waited for, craved their voice and their touch while wallowing in the darkness, did not remember him at all. “You are the one who opened the sarcophagus, releasing me from the cursed prison where I’ve been rotting in solitude! No one else could have done such a thing!”

“Of course someone else could have! It was just a regular coffin, all they had to do was break the- wait,” Lucifer felt like his brain was being tugged in twenty different directions. “You said- that it was your sarcophagus?” 

Alastor drew himself up proudly. “As the chief servant of Amun-Ra, my tomb was being built long before my death, but it was unfinished. Because of my punishment I was denied my rightful resting place and sealed beneath the temple. These chamber walls were ripped from my tomb and placed here just to deny me passage to the Underworld. You passed by my carven image and did not even recognize me?”

There was a pain behind the man’s voice, subtle and strained. Lucifer didn’t like the way it pulled at his chest. 

“I- of course not! The faces were scratched out. Wait, how do you know so much about the tomb?” His head was starting to hurt again. 

“There were two other coffins,” the other man said. “A priest and a servant girl. There were no grave offerings, only warnings to stay away from the cursed.”

Lucifer groaned and held onto his aching head. “S-stop it! Are you with the robbers? Are you the ‘master’ they were talking to?”

“Robbers?” Alastor laughed so hard his shoulders shook. “You took my attendants as robbers?! Oh, Nafir will not like that. She hates tomb robbers.”

Lucifer managed to glare as the pain receded. “This is not funny! If you are one of the robbers who took my mummy then I want it back!” 

Alastor’s head tilted as he considered that. “You wish to see a mummified Khet? I can provide that. I have harvested enough Ka for myself but I will need to restore the other two. Very well then, meet me at the temple and you shall have your corpses.”

He knelt again, a repeat of the gesture that he had welcomed Lucifer with before, with one knee on the ground and his hand pressed to his heart. Lucifer opened his mouth to say something when there was a shuffling noise outside the tent, along with a gruff voice. 

“Lucifer!” It was Adam. “Is everything alright? Lute said you were shouting like a psycho!”

Lucifer frowned at the tent flap. “I’m fine!” He turned back to the stranger but when his head spun back around he discovered they were gone. 

Just… gone. 

“What the shit?” Lucifer cursed, scrubbing at his hair. 

“If you don’t fucking come out then I’m comin’ in!”

That spurred Lucifer to open the flap and prove to Adam that he was fine, thanks for checking, but he was very busy so please leave him the fuck alone.

After reassuring Adam and Lute, Lucifer settled on his cot and closed his eyes, allowing himself to simply enjoy the quiet. 

For five minutes. Then he was up again, changing his clothes and shoving the food into his mouth and gulping down water. This crazy stranger, Alastor, whoever he really was, had still promised to return the mummy his crew had stolen. If Lucifer could get it back then he would have the clues he needed to figure out who the person was. 

“Then how did you find my tomb?” 

Lucifer froze, his satchel in hand. How had he been able to find the tomb? The entrance had been hidden, he must have entered through a side shaft that would have been dug to cart dirt away and allow workers to access the chambers. But he had gone straight to a statue of Pharaoh, and had just known that a lever was there. 

“I think the heat is getting to me,” he grumbled to himself. “I don't fucking care how I found it. I just want proof that Irimaet was a real person! If that tomb really belonged to her high priest, then I have to get it back!” 

He snuck out of the camp, determined to leave Adam and his violent American tendencies behind for once. The dig site was a half mile away from the base camp, but it was drawing near to sunset and he didn't want to walk back in the dark and cold. So he swiped the keys to a dirt truck and prayed that his rudimentary skills at driving would be enough to get him there and back.

The drive was rough, but manageable. Lucifer shut the engine off just a short walk away from the temple entrance, not wanting to disturb the area around the site, and covered the rest of the way on foot. 

The immediate difference that he noticed was the light that spilled out from the hole in the wall. He gave a small cry and rushed forward, ducking inside to put out any fire that might be destroying his precious archeology! What he found made him stop in shock, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. 

The entire chamber was visible, giving a height and depth that had previously been shrouded in darkness. Murals of colorful paints and intricate carvings covered the entire stone wall, with bits of the plaster broken in some places, but not as many as Lucifer expected. The source of the light was coming from large fires in shallow basins, scattered around the chamber. From the smell, Lucifer thought they were burning oil. 

Around one of the basins stood two people, covered in the same burial linen as before. The robbers! 

“What… are you doing?!”

The pair turned towards the sound of his voice, stopping from pouring oil from a clay vessel. Lucifer wailed at the use of oil on the ancient stone and dashed over to grab it from the man’s hands. 

“Do you have any idea how old this place is?! You're adding smoke and dust and contaminants onto my site! I should have you arrested for violating Egyptian law and desecrating an archeological find!”

The bigger man, his face still strangely obscured by wrapped linen, held up his hands in surrender. “I’m only following orders, Favored One. The master provided the oil. These basins are meant to be lanterns-” 

“I know that!” Lucifer snapped, hugging the clay jar to his chest. “They need to be preserved along with the rest of the temple!” 

“Peace, mry.” 

Lucifer nearly dropped the vessel when the crazy man arrived. Where the fuck had he come from? 

“What kind of oil is this?” Lucifer demanded. “Where did you get it?” 

Alastor, now dressed in black robes that draped over his shoulders and down to his feet, tilted his head in that curious manner of his. “Down in the storerooms. They were left behind, and remained sealed. I found their quality has not deteriorated.”

“Why do you sound so funny, Master?” The young woman asked with concern. “What happened to your voice?”

Alastor came over and patted the linen wrapped head affectionately. “You will be able to understand it soon, Nafir. The Ka I have obtained will allow you to integrate into this new world.” 

Lucifer gave a shudder. His headache was back, but it only lingered around the edges of his skull. It was as if his ears protested to the robbers speaking to each other. He placed the vessel down and crossed his arms, scowling at them. 

“I've decided to cut you a deal. If you return the mummy from the tomb and promise to leave this dig site and never return then I will not have you tossed in jail for your crimes!” 

“The mummy from the- Is he serious?” The gruff robber asked. “Does he not remember?” 

Alastor sighed. “He needs some more convincing, it would seem.” 

Lucifer took a few steps back when Alastor once more approached him with that mysterious smile. 

“I promised to reveal mummified remains, did I not? Well behold!” He gestured to the pair. “My attendants who were punished for their master's crimes! Haashket is an ouab, or the lowest rank of priest, and Nafir is my personal slave. Go on, show the Favored One what they did to you.”

Haashket groaned in protest, but he began unwrapping the linen from his arms, grumbling the entire time. The girl, Nafir, was eagerly ripping as much of the wrapping off as she could, not caring for making neat piles like Haaskhet was. 

“Couldn't bother to wrap me properly,” he muttered. “Not enough resin between the layers. And why are two of my fingers stuck together? Sloppy is what it is.” 

“Ooh, look!” Nafir exclaimed as she held a small object up to the light. “One of my bracelets! It's got my name on it! Oh, and the amulet my mother made for me! I'll need a new string for it…”

Little by little the linen wraps came off and fell to the sandy floor in heaps. Lucifer could only watch, his horror and disbelief growing. The flesh that was revealed was not wholesome or healthy, instead the emaciated limbs were blackened and dark, like ancient leather, the bones visible beneath the wrinkled skin. 

“What… the fuck…?” Lucifer's breathing began to grow shallow. “What is… happening?” 

Haashket finished unwrapping his torso and got to his head and face, taking a page from Nafir's book and simply ripping the linen off. His face was sunken and shriveled, his cheekbones prominent. His lips were completely gone on one side, revealing darkened teeth in a grotesque sneer. 

Lucifer stumbled back, his stomach churning at the sight. “This- this isn't possible- what is this?!” 

Nafir had revealed her head as well, and she was as bald as Haashket, with her one good eye roaming about and looking at everything. Only her arms and legs were wrapped now, and her breasts were sunken in against the stark ribs, while her hip bones made her look like a starving urchin. 

Lucifer groaned and turned around, unable to watch any longer. “What… the hell… is going on?” He panted, squeezing his eyes shut to make the nightmare go away. 

“I am so sorry, my heart,” Alastor said soothingly. “They won't look like that for long. It will take some time for me to gather enough Ka to fully restore them, but then they will be as they were in life.” 

Lucifer glanced up, noting how Alastor's robes seem to float around him. “What do you mean?” 

Alastor's smile broadened. “After so long of our Akh being separated from our Khet, we will need the energy provided by souls to function as we once did, at least until I can figure out how to make it permanent. I had to restore my own body first, but I have enough to share.” 

“I'm ready, Master. It feels weird not having real lungs to breathe.” 

“You have not learned patience in the past thousand years, my friend?”

“You didn't have to call me back, ya know!” 

“But I would miss your fiery company!” Alastor laughed. 

There was a wind inside the chamber that caused the flames to flutter and burst higher, hotter, casting sinister shadows on the wall. Despite himself, the curiosity overtook Lucifer's fright and he turned to see what was happening. 

Alastor was standing before the first creature, his hands on the leathery skin of the chest and forehead, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Lucifer thought he was hallucinating with the way the shadows beneath Alastor’s feet were twirling and writhing, like tendrils reaching up to grab at his billowing robes. 

The flames sparked higher as Alastor began to chant, his voice echoing around the chamber in an ancient prayer that made Lucifer's head ache. The pressure squeezed around him as he watched gray mist emerge from Alastor's lips and drift downwards into Haashket's open mouth, inhaling it like smoke.

Before Lucifer’s very eyes the flesh began to change. The sunken dips between the bones filled out with muscles and a fresh layer of fat, the skin changing from dark and preserved leather to a deep chestnut color, as if he was of Nubian descent. The lips grew back to cover the teeth, and only small patches of ragged leather that looked out of place amongst the healthy flesh remained to show he had once been mummified.  

When the mist broke off and Alastor let go of him, Haashket rolled his shoulders and groaned at the new flexibility and movement that he had. 

“Oh, by Osiris' left nipple that feels good!” 

Nafir started bouncing in front of her master while waving her hand vigorously. “Oh oh! Me next! Do me next, Master!” 

Lucifer stumbled up to his feet. “Wait… just wait a damn minute!” 

It was impossible. This was a trick. He was hallucinating or- or dreaming or-

Lucifer lifted shaking hands to the renewed flesh on Haashket’s cheeks, the priest staying as still as a trained horse while he examined them, turning the head to each direction and lifting up the grizzled and work worn palms to examine the ancient prints. Then he turned to Nafir, comparing the two from before and after. 

“This is… impossible,” Lucifer whispered, struggling to make sense of what his eyes and hands were showing him. 

“Oh! Do you want to see where they stuffed my organs?” Nafir offered, lifting up a flap of skin on her side. 

“No!” Lucifer said hastily, trying to stop her. “That is- that’s quite alright! Ordinarily I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to examine a mummy but… well it’s different when they are walking and- and talking and- I need to sit down.”

He found a nice, soft patch of sand to sink down on and contemplate every known scientific fact in existence. 

There was another rushing wind, the fires of the basins roaring to life, and this time it was Nafir who was standing before her master, inhaling the strange mist, her body filling out and returning to a healthy state of muscles and fat. A little too much fat, particularly around the chest. On top of her bald head grew fresh hair, dark and slightly kinky, until it reached the length of her ears. She tossed her head back and forth, giggling when the final tendrils of mist sank into her mouth and disappeared. 

Lucifer yelped and covered his eyes, automatically averting them away from the girl's nakedness. When the fires dimmed and Nafir was bouncing around on her new legs, she didn't seem to care at all that she was naked as the day she was born. 

Several… thousand… years ago. 

“I need a drink,” Lucifer grumbled, his ears ringing with the girl's joyful laughter. “Or three.”

“You could say that again, Favored One,” Haashket said. “What's the wine like nowadays? I do miss it.” 

Lucifer turned to him with a contemplative scowl, looking them up and down and noticing how they also disregarded their nakedness. He supposed after thousands of years in burial linen they would want to feel the air on their skin again. 

There was so much to wrap his brain around.

“Why do you call me that?” He asked. 

“Favored One?” Haashket replied. “It is what we called you back then, when you were Pharaoh's concubine. We weren't allowed to know your real name. Only he knew it,” they nodded towards Alastor, who hadn't moved from his spot and was watching them closely. 

The room started to tilt, and Lucifer's headache was back. “I'm sorry, wait… Pharaoh's what now?” 

Haashket scratched his cheek. “Is that the right word? I can't hear what I'm saying, really-” 

“Haashket, you are dismissed.” 

The man grimaced as Alastor's shadow fell over him, moving hastily away from Lucifer. Alastor handed him a pile of folded clothes and gestured towards Nafir, who was digging in the sand in a deep crouch, looking like a child in a sand pit. He nodded his understanding and took the clothes over to fit them onto himself and the girl. 

Lucifer looked all the way up to the dark glittering eyes above him, feeling the weight of exhaustion in his bones. It was too much, too fantastic, too otherworldly. Like something out of a mythological tale, not the cold hard facts of his scrolls and books. 

And yet… 

“Who are you?” He asked the shadowed face, his voice too weak to speak it loud. He was afraid to hear the answer. Afraid to doubt it. Afraid to face it. 

A hand was offered to him. It was dead looking, with preserved skin stretched over bone. They both noticed at the same instant and Alastor quickly replaced it with the other. It was healthy and alive. 

“Come with me, my heart. Let me show you.” 

Lucifer gave it a long pause of consideration. If he took that hand, would he ever be the same again? Would it lead him to what he has been searching for his entire life? 

 

He slipped his hand into theirs and prayed it was the right choice.

 

Notes:

I have no set release schedule. I post when I want.

Chapter 4: Suspense of Disbelief

Summary:

Lucifer processes everything he has seen and learned, and finally comes to accept that he has three undead on his team.

Notes:

welcome back! This chapter is shorter than the last, but just as important. Watching two mummies come back to life is a lot to take in, but Lucifer is a champ!

The frescos and painted walls slid by like a dream. The hand that held his own was the only anchor to reality that Lucifer had, slim though it was. He was still not convinced that he wasn't dreaming, but at least the hand was solid and warm. Which in itself was odd. 

The paintings and carvings themselves were of various daily scenes of the temple and its worship of Amun-Ra, the king of the gods, and how his benevolent rule benefited all of Egypt. There were scenes with other gods of the pantheon, crafting stories and myths that Lucifer just knew would flesh out what they already knew about the ancient religion. 

When the paintings changed into daily rituals, Lucifer began to notice new figures. The most obvious one was Pharaoh, with her double crown of Egypt and the ceremonial beard, holding the whip and crook of office. Sometimes she was sitting across from Amun-Ra, and sometimes Amun-Ra was blessing her. 

Then there were the rituals, the care and worship of Amun-Ra by the priests of the temple. The largest priest leading every ritual had the same features with the same desecration that Lucifer had seen in the tomb. The face and all instances of a name were scratched out, sometimes even the entire body, denying their place in history, and more importantly, the Afterlife. 

They stopped before a central painting where the faceless priest was kneeling before a seated Amun-Ra, offering sacrificial incense to the god. Lucifer reached up and felt the rough surface of the fresco, hovering over the blank surface where the name should be. 

It was… so sad. 

“What did you do?” He asked, his voice a hushed sound in the depression of the chamber. “What could you have possibly done to merit such a punishment?” 

There was a slight intake of breath next to him. “You do not yet recall? Were you… not looking for me?” 

Lucifer could hear the pain in their voice but couldn't seem to connect it to himself. That was something his mind still shied away from. 

With regret he shook his head. “I've been looking for Pharaoh Irimaet. Ever since I first heard her name, on a fragment of a Babylonian decree, and again on another description of a battle between Egypt and the Hittites. No other documentation of her exists, and everyone thought I was crazy for pursuing her tomb. Even less believed my theory that she was a woman.”

“And how did you know she was a woman?” Alastor challenged. 

“ I don't know! ” Lucifer smashed a fist against the stone, frustrated beyond measure. “I just knew ! Just like I knew that this strange looking outcrop could be a buried temple! It felt right! So I made up some bullshit about the angle of the sun and the distance from the river, and- and I finally got someone to back me, someone who saw my desperation and obsession as something to harness! And I put up with every insult and ridicule just to get here!”

He sank to his knees, laughing like a madman. “And I was right ! That glyph right there behind her name… it denotes a feminine person. And her descriptions are of being a “daughter”, she was proud to be a woman king!”

Alastor sniffed. “She was proud of a lot of things. She would be boasting to everyone that you remembered her after thousands of years and not…” 

Not me , the unspoken words hung between them. 

A flashing rocket exploded in Lucifer's mind with the implications. Finally he realized just what was standing next to him, looking discontent and disgruntled. 

Living, breathing, speaking history. 

“You knew her,” Lucifer breathed. He grasped onto the arms and hauled himself up, crowding in close with feverish eyes. “You knew her! You were- her high priest! You lived thousands of years ago and- and participated in the ceremonies! You are the history that I seek!”

The pair of dark eyes were two deep wells of sadness. “Yes,” Alastor admitted. “As were you.”

The implication that Lucifer had lived thousands of years ago made the pain in his head sharpen, causing him to groan and sway on his feet. Strong hands caught him and held him up, giving him a moment of respite. 

“Lucifer! Are you well?” Alastor asked, 

After a moment the pain receded. Lucifer shook his head to clear it. 

“This is… a lot, ok? I just watched two dead people come back to life and- and they have ancient names that haven’t been spoken in millenia and… I am suddenly in possession of an entire temple to translate and the proof I need to show that Irimaet was real, and you’re claiming that I am- that we are- It's insane and- and impossible!” 

Alastor was quiet, watching them with a steady patience. 

Lucifer took a breath. “I must believe what I see, even if I don't understand it yet. I can accept that you are who you say, and the other two as well. I can accept that- that somehow you are alive and breathing again. That’s enough for now. Whatever else you’re trying to convince me of… it can wait. Please.”

Alastor’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but he nodded. “I’ve waited thousands of years, mry . I can wait a little longer.”

Warm fingers brushed Lucifer’s hair aside, and he caught a whiff of sandalwood and desert rose. It tugged at him, but whatever door in his mind that would reveal the meaning of it remained firmly closed. 

Lucifer had to ignore it, just so he wouldn’t go mad. He grabbed Alastor’s hand and tried a shaky smile. “Hey, I know your name now! Akathor, right? Will you write it for me? We can put it back on the walls and then you won’t be forgotten! Oh! You can join the crew! You and the other two! I’ll say you’re some linguist friend of mine! We can translate these murals quickly with you just reading to us!” 

Lucifer laughed, this time out of joy, his steps twirling around as he was caught up in the planning that willfully shoved the disbelief into a closet. “Yes, this is amazing! I have an expert in Egyptology! Three of them! Oh, what does this say? And this bit over here? Can you tell me what you’re doing up there with Amun-Ra? And what happened to your braids?”

Inundated with sudden questions, Alastor found the corners of his mouth stretching into a smile, watching the sunshine return to the ancient stones in the form of Lucifer’s curiosity and laughter, breathing new life into the dry dust. The foreign slave had always been the sun to him, eclipsing even Amun-Ra himself. 

“My braids are out of style now,” Alastor replied, running a self-conscious hand through his short and straightened hair. “I must blend in with the ones who look like you. I didn’t realize there were so many pale skinned people.”

Lucifer gaped, then started laughing. “Oh! You mean Adam! Yeah, he’s American. I’m Swedish, actually, but I studied in Britain. None of those names mean anything to you, do they?”

Alastor shrugged helplessly. “I’ve always wanted to learn more about your people. Perhaps you can teach me about this new world.”

“I will!” Lucifer agreed eagerly. “In exchange for your translations and reading and explanations. Come on! I’ll introduce you to Adam!”

He grabbed Alastor’s hand and pulled him back the way they had come, eager to settle all three of the Egyptians into the camp. He chattered on about what they would translate first and how they would determine where Iriamet’s resting place was when they arrived back in the main room where they had left Haashket and Nafir. 

Lucifer stopped so suddenly that Alastor bumped into his back. “Oh boy. Um… ok, the first lesson is how to wear modern clothes.”

Haashket was lounging by a broken pillar, wearing a button down shirt but no pants, the bottom seams resting at the mid thigh. He had used one half of a suspender to cinch it at the waist like a belt, the other half slung over one shoulder. As for Nafir, she had tied a shirt around her middle using the sleeves, leaving her breasts completely exposed while she tidied up the piles of burial linen and discovered more amulets amongst the layers that had been buried with them, meant to provide protection. 

Of course Nafir wasn’t bothered by showing off her breasts, Lucifer realized. Ancient cultures didn’t have the same morality regarding nakedness as the modern ones did. 

He approached Nafir and coughed apologetically. “Ah, let me fix that for you.” Ignoring his own sensitivities he untied the sleeves and slipped the shirt on her correctly. “Women wear clothes that cover all of their skin. Or, at least as much as possible.”

“What’s wrong with my breasts?” Nafir demanded, almost insulted. “They aren’t as big as some, but they are enough to fill a man’s hands!”

“A pretty small man,” Haashket put in, idly scratching his stomach. “Don’t ask me, though. I ain’t got interest in slave girls.”

Nafir rounded on him with fists clenched. “You aren’t interested in girls at all! Unless you count Ankhu’s slim waist as-”

“ Don’t say his name! ” The priest hissed, rising to his feet in a rage. “I’m warning you, Nafir!”

“Enough.”

The single command from their master made both of them slip into silence. Nafir even dropped to her knees in repentance, shocking Lucifer at how quickly they complied. He would need to get used to this kind of ancient hierarchy. 

“Nafir, do not speak of the dead when they are unable to defend themselves,” Alastor said, accepting the girl’s quiet whimpers as an apology. He softened his tone. “We are in a new land now. Everything we knew from before will not help us. Even the landscape has changed, and the Nile has shifted in her bed. We must be born anew, and bringing up old hurts will only make it harder. The Favored One has promised that he will teach us how to live amongst his people. The Ka that I harvest for you will make it easier.”

Lucifer found long robes from the digging crew in the pile of clothes, and found a better outfit for both Alastor and Haashket. He frowned slightly and glanced their way. 

“Hold on, you can’t keep calling me that! It will be weird and awkward and no one will believe me that you guys are my friends. You will call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.”

Haashket and Nafir glanced nervously at each other, then at Alastor, as if for permission. Alastor heaved a sigh. “They are servants. It would be unseemly for them to address you as an equal. Is there not a formal name they can use?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Fucking social classes. Fine, they can call me Mr. Morningstar. You can call me Lucifer.” He approached the lesser priest and showed him how to put on the clothes. “And we need to change your names. Alastor is fine, but Haashket can be… Husk! It’s close enough. Nafir can be…” he glanced her way and noticed how her eyes shone bright with the prospect. She reminded him of a scarab beetle, skittering about on tiny legs. “Nifty! Do you like it?”

The girl squealed with glee and jumped around. “I love it! Master, I have a new name!” 

Lucifer grimaced. “Um, instead of calling him ‘master’, try using ‘sir’, or even ‘lord’. Master is… well, slavery isn’t around anymore, so it will be strange.”

All three pairs of eyes turned to him in shock. 

“What do you mean slavery isn’t around anymore? Where did it go?” Alastor demanded. 

Lucifer groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Oh boy. This is… going to be a task. Um… let’s put these fires out and I’ll give a history lesson on the way back to camp.”

The first thing he did on the bumpy ride back to camp was explain how the Egyptian empire lasted for roughly three thousand years as far as the archeological record could tell them, but it has been two thousand years since the empire collapsed. He also explained that while the country continued its namesake, the new capitol was in Cairo, and the government was very different. Of course he had to mention England being the largest current empire, with the new country of The United States playing a greater leadership role in global politics since the war. 

When he told them the earth was round they all looked at him as if he was stupid for doubting it.  

It wasn’t until they pulled into the camp well after midnight that Lucifer realized he didn’t have any place for them to sleep. He shuffled all three of them into his tent and picked out some better clothes for Husk and Nifty. At least his own clothes were the right size for the girl, only slightly big on her. Husk stopped him from going into a panic, saying they knew how to take care of themselves and would set up their own place nearby, but that they didn’t require sleep at all. 

“Might as well go see what kind of grub these foreigners have,” Husk grumbled. “I hope the wine has gotten better, at least.”

Nifty tagged along after him, and then Lucifer and Alastor were left alone. Lucifer looked over at the high priest and sighed softly. 

“I don’t even know where I’m going to find clothes big enough for you.”

“Me?” Alastor chuckled. He waved his hand and the black robes changed all on their own to a different set of clothes that resembled Lucifer’s shirt and suspenders. He even had shoes on that looked like he had purchased them in London. “Will these do?”

Lucifer nearly choked. “Were you able to do that the entire time?!”

“Of course,” Alastor said proudly. “I remain in full control of the shadows. They are at my beck and call.”

Lucifer frowned in confusion. “The shadows? That’s… an unusual power for a priest of Amun-Ra, now that I think about it.”

Alastor became quiet, directing his attention to the table where Lucifer’s sketches and notes were strewn about. “Indeed… and yet where there is light there the shadows grow.”

Lucifer tapped his lips, thinking hard for the nugget of knowledge that was buried somewhere in his deep well of Egyptian religion. He could have sworn he knew enough to realize if a high priest of Amun-Ra would boast such powers. Of course, ‘powers’ could be exaggerated, and he hadn’t expected them to be real .

Lucifer pulled up a chair for Alastor and sat down on his cot, grabbing a pen and his notebook. “Alright then, let’s get started! I want to know everything about your daily life! What was it like? Did you speak to Pharaoh often? Did you perform tricks? What kind of rituals did you perform?”

Lucifer’s pen was gently taken by large, brown hands, and Alastor leaned over him with a gentle probing look. “All in good time, mry . You have been injured in the temple, and I can see the weariness in your body. You should rest.” 

Lucifer's eyes were pretty strained, and his hands were beginning to shake. He had seen and witnessed a lot the past few hours, the likes of which would have driven other men mad. 

“But… but I have so much to discover!” He resisted weakly. 

The priest would hear none of it. “Lie down for a bit, and I will sing you a song from when we watched the papyrus reeds drift in the Nile current.” 

“A song?” Lucifer gasped. “One that hasn't been sung in these lands for thousands of years? Give me one moment!” 

He rushed to his cot and hastily removed his boots and suspenders and laid down facing the strange man. “Ok, I’m ready!”

Alastor couldn't help but chuckle. He approached the cot and sank to a comfortable sitting position on his knees by Lucifer's head. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he settled for singing his love to sleep. 

A deep hum vibrated inside the tent, in a pitch that did not belong in any modern orchestra. The Egyptian syllables washed over Lucifer like an ocean wave, calming and heavy, enchanting him to sleep. He thought he understood the lyrics, but couldn't quite translate it. Instead, pictures of the lotus and papyrus plants drifting on still water filled his mind, as clear as a memory. 

Within moments he was asleep.

Notes:

What will he dream about, I wonder?

Chapter 5: The Serpent God

Summary:

A dream of the past. An obsessed priest.

Notes:

cw: human sacrifice

I need a little boost to get through a minor block. I have JUICY chapters in store.

Alastor watched the lapis eyes close, the beautiful face relaxed in slumber, and ached to gather them into his arms and cling to the small frame. To be reunited with his love after thousands of years in the darkness was better than returning to the land of the living. 

He could recall the moment the seal on his coffin broke. The rush of new air, and the haste in which he had forced his decrepit bones to move and rip the funeral bandages off. How satisfying to watch them crumble! How triumphant he felt at the feel of the desert wind on his exposed ribs! He had fallen to the sands and would have wept from the dry sockets of his eyes if it had been possible, praising his god for his salvation from the endless torment. 

He did not pray to Amun-Ra, though Alastor was the First Priest of the sun god and had worked hard to get that post. Alastor's true god was someone darker, shunned by the rest of the pantheon. The one he had traded his soul to for power over Pharaoh. 

Apophis. God of chaos and destruction. Not like Set, who was the natural balance of his brother, Osiris, and the ruler of the Upper Kingdom. Set enjoyed chaos, but he was worshipped and revered as a trickster. 

Apophis was different. He didn't just want to destroy the sun, he wanted to consume it. 

Discovering that his love had been the one to free him, Alastor had rushed to find a living person to drain their ka and regain his flesh. He was stunned by the changes of the landscape, and the emptiness of the sands. Thankfully there had been an encampment of laborers close by for him to harvest from, and had taken what he needed sparingly. Then he had returned to the dark tomb to gather his treasure into his arms and bring them out to the clean air. 

No more tombs. No more darkness. 

How disappointed he had been when the reunion he had dreamed about was ruined by the emptiness in Lucifer's eyes. No recognition or desire was there at all. They were asking strangers now, worse than they had been in Pharaoh's court. Alastor may as well have remained in his sarcophagus for how distant Lucifer was from him. 

Irimaet was laughing cruelly at him in the Afterlife. 

Alastor's grim mood was interrupted by a gruff whisper. His servant crept into the tent and knelt reverently by his side. If Haashket could ever be accused of being reverent. 

“Master. I've got better clothes for me and Nafir to blend in more, and we have found a tent for you amongst their stores. Shall I set it up now?”

Alastor sighed and caressed the sleeping face of his love. “Not quite yet. I must appear to have just arrived in the morning. You can set it up next to this one after that.”

Haashket nodded his understanding. “Do we have a story to give the foreigners?”

“I have learned enough from the ka I have consumed. My name is Alastor El-Masry. You and Nafir will call me Lord El-Masry, and take the English names that the Favored One has bestowed on you.” 

Haashket rubbed his nose. “A name that means you’re from Egypt? That's pretty vague.”

“It works,” Alastor shrugged. “It doesn't tie me to any family that could denounce me.”

“Husk is a weird name,” the lesser priest grumbled. “It sounds… empty.”

“Get used to it. We have to blend in. You are already adapting to the modern language.”

Haashket, now called Husk, groaned slightly. “It's all garbled up with another language that sounds like the Hebrews and the Caananites had a bastard child. I will sit and listen to the laborers to figure out which one they use more.” 

“Make sure Nafir- Nifty…” Alastor corrected himself. “Doesn't speak unless spoken to.”

“You won't have to worry about that, Master,” Husk grunted. “She always knew her place. They had to torture the information out of her when they-” 

A sharp look of absolute venom turned Husk's tongue to stone. Alastor did not appreciate being reminded how his plans to flee Egypt had been foiled, or how it had led to their punishment. Husk cleared his throat and went silent. 

“That is all. Stay out of sight until dawn when we will be introduced to the others.” 

The lower priest nodded and bowed, then shuffled out of the tent. Alastor needed to hunt one more time, so he could restore the arm that had shriveled when he had given ka to his servants. He turned back to Lucifer's sleeping form, hungrily watching their breathing for a while until he had the strength to leave them again. 

His memories replayed like hot coals on his feet. The first time he had spoken properly to Lucifer had been at his victory feast that Pharaoh had given, as praise for the way he had turned the battle in their favor. It wasn't hard to predict who would win when he had spies everywhere. 

Alastor leaned against the rickety cot, inches away from Lucifer's face, as the memories took hold, replaying the feast and the days afterwards. 

 

The New Kingdom

 

Beneath the temple of Amun-Ra, where Akathor presided as First Prophet, there were deep chambers that only a select few were aware of. The builders had been killed after the completion of the chambers, and no one but Akathor and his two closest servants had any knowledge of their existence. 

The First Prophet stood there now, his shadows cast eerily across the walls by oil lamps that burned without any bronze casters to increase the light. He had shed the leopard skin of his station and left it upstairs, leaving him clothed in only a girdle of black linen, belted at the waist with a gold belt inlaid with beads. Gold glinted in his braids, and the decorative bands around his upper arms, but other than that he wore no jewelry. 

He was no priest of Amun-Ra while he was beneath the earth. Here, he was a devotee of Apophis, the Great Serpent God. A deity of destruction that no sensible Egyptian would worship. 

Down in the dark chambers, where no one could witness his crimes, Akathor bent over a great stone table, and considered his new name. 

“ Alastor . What a strange combination of sounds! It's like my tongue wants to slide out of my mouth. Egyptian is a much more suitable language. Don't you think so?”

He turned to the bound and gagged man on the table, whose arms and legs were stretched out to their limits and tied to stakes driven into the table. The captive looked terrified, his eyes bulging with fear, though it was uncertain if it was the priest who scared him or the ceremonial bronze dagger that they were fiddling with. 

The golden beads clacked together in harmony as the priest tossed his head, tapping the tip of the dagger against his cheek, looking off into the distance as he turned the evening of the feast over in his head. 

“I can see why Pharoah likes him, of course! Such a delicate little thing. Like a lamb, or a- a quail! Yes. Small and meek. Irimaet likes to pretend she is manly, and she is tall enough to be one, but she doesn't have the muscles for it. Even so, only children would be able to make her appear manly, and they are not to her taste. And now she has her very own concubine who elevates her by comparison! You should see his slender waist!” 

The gagged captive trembled as he listened, tears trailing down the corners of his eyes. He was under no illusion why he was down there with the crazy priest. He was a captive from the recent battle with the Hittites, and no one would miss him, or care if he died. He was a nobody, and a prisoner. He wouldn't leave this chamber alive. 

Akathor went on. “Of course, I would gouge your eyes out just for looking at him, ha ha!” His crazy laughter fell on deaf walls. The dagger flipped in the air as he paced, catching it by the handle and flipping it against as he spoke his thoughts out loud. 

“No no, he is not to be gazed on by unworthy eyes! He is the sun incarnate! Life and light and passion and happiness! Pharaoh is right to keep him contained in the palace. I didn't think much of him at first, just another foreign slave, but oh! Then he gave me cheek! He even dismissed me! Me! Haha!” 

He spun back to the table with a snarl, raising the dagger. “And then he changes me! With a new name! As if he owned me! As if he were bestowing a mighty gift! I am the High Priest of Amun-Ra! Everyone hears my name and trembles! Except for this- this- outrageous slip of a boy!” 

He crumpled against the table, laughing even harder until the sounds trailed away, leaving the captive trembling. 

“Why should I care who Pharaoh fucks?” He demanded of his victim. “It's not like I have ever been interested in such things. People use sex to hold power over others, and I swore no one would hold power over me in that way! Pharaoh can use her wooden cocks and make believe he is a royal wife, if that makes her happy! Hah! I am free of all that!” 

His face darkened by increments, thrown into shadow as the lamp lights flickers. The more he thought about the brief encounters he had with Pharaoh's bed slave, the more furious he became, until the breath was hissing as it escaped from his teeth like the snake he worshipped. 

“I don't need his smiles! Or his stupid foreign name. THEN WHY DO I WANT HIM?!” 

He plunged the dagger straight into the thickness of the captive's thigh, making him scream against his gag and strain in the ropes that bound him. Blood oozed from the wound, pooling on the table. Oddly enough, it seemed to distract the priest. He watched it creep towards the edge, and the blood channel carved into the stone. 

Pulling the knife out of the thigh, he resumed his pacing. “Why- why should I care what makes him smile?! Why do I want that awful, sentimental filth affecting me?! I do not know what madness came over me when he handed me that bead and laughed in my face! So what if his tears shine like the Nile when he cries! So what if they are the color of blue lapis! I have never once wanted another to lie beneath me, and now that I do , he belongs to Pharaoh! Oh, the gods are cruel tricksters!” 

He paused, leaning heavily against the table and addressing the prisoner as if they were an intimate conspirator. “Why should Pharaoh own such a treasure? Surely the wealth of Egypt is enough! And who gave her that wealth, hmm? Who helped her acquire new territories, and fight off invaders? Who keeps her throne, and her power, safe? Huh ?!”

The prisoner squealed and cried harder when the dagger dragged a cut across his cheek. Alastor chuckled. 

“It was me, of course! My power and my prayers… some from Amun-Ra, but the others? From Apophis! Only he can provide the strength of the shadows and the earthquakes to destroy our enemies. Shouldn't I have a reward for my years of service?” 

He stared at the trickles of blood, turning that thought over. “Yes… I should get a reward! After all, I've used my powers for the good of Egypt! I've kept the people safe… well fed… I burn incense and prayers on their behalf. I perform ceremonies for Amun-Ra and keep his image in good condition. Why shouldn't I get what I want? Hmm?” 

The prisoner strained and wailed into the gag, but it was to no avail. The priest continued speaking anyway. 

“And you, my friend,” the priest patted their cheek gently. “You are going to help me, aren't you? My god is hungry , you see. He tries to eat the sun every night but is defeated in the morning when Amun-Ra rises once again! At least, that is what we tell the children, anyway. Apophis would eat the entire world if the other gods did not keep him at bay. Only the truly bold offer him the life and heat that he craves, in exchange for favors .” 

He leaned down over the weeping captive and smiled. “Thank you, my friend. For giving me the tribute necessary. Don't worry! You are contributing to a higher cause.” 

The dagger sliced cleanly through the exposed throat. The prisoner's muffled gurgles lasted for a moment which the priest savored like the aroma of incense, until the life left the prisoner's eyes and he grew still. The blood collected in the channel and poured through a stone funnel into a clay pitcher. When it was full, the channel was plugged with a leather cork, and the priest carried the offering down a narrow corridor of complete darkness until he reached the inner sanctuary. It was a room bare of all furniture except a single altar that displayed a large carving of a serpent, made from stone and flint. The mouth was wide open to display the fangs, as if it was ready to engulf the worshipper. 

The priest knelt before the stone image and offered the pitcher. The scented oils in the lamps burned with an acrid smoke that made the air thick with incense. The altar around the stone snake was littered with clay basins of food and wine offerings, as well as copper amulets of the sun that shone before the hungry god. 

“O Great Serpent!” The priest began. “Hear my cry! Grant my wish! I know what it feels like to hunger ! To crave the unattainable! The one I desire belongs to another, but he should be mine! Grant him as a reward for my many years of service and the chaos I have wrought in your name!”

The priest held up the earthen pitcher, then tilted his head back and began pouring the viscous blood over his chest. The red dripped from his shoulders to cover every inch of his sculpted torso, pooling on the floor around his bare feet. He moaned in bliss, lowering the pitcher to the floor, caught up in the euphoria of the ritual.

“Bless me with shadows to cover his movements. Make Pharaoh blind to our meetings. Muddle her reason and let her trust me without question. Leave her in the dark while another steals her treasure! Bring my desired one into my arms… O Great Serpent! May you devour the sun!” 

He remained in the sanctuary for an hour, swaying on his feet and repeating his prayers, smearing the blood over his dark skin and caressing himself as if he could feel the slave's hands already. 

When his trance wore off, he stumbled from the inner room and back to the preparation chambers, his feet dragging wearily. He found his servant there already, covering the body of the sacrifice with baskets of sand to dry out the fluids. Haashket had been trained in the skills of mummification, but his penchant for gambling had driven him to throw himself at the mercy of the High Priest. Now he used his skills for their service, and the price was his silence. 

The lesser priest bowed solemnly to his master, then returned to his task. He didn't even flinch at the sight of the dried and flaking blood on their body, used to it by now. 

“Water and fresh clothes are right there, Master,” Haashket said, nodding towards the brass basin nearby. “I'll have this dried in a few days and then wrapped up and placed with the others.” 

Akathor removed the blood soaked black linen skirt and began cleaning his body with the soap and water provided. His braids clacked together as he splashed water over his head. 

He considered his servant and noticed the way the shadows stretched away from the light. Deciding he should test his new powers, he stared at the dark shapes until a black hand reached up from the floor and tugged on Haashket's robes. 

The man yelped, spilling some of the sand. “Pharaoh's beard! What the fuck was that?!”

His master laughed, delighted with the trick as Haashket cursed even more. “I have gained new powers. It feels glorious!” 

The lesser priest twitched away from the waving shadows, returning to his task with a grumble. “Like you weren't creepy enough already.”

His mutters were ignored. 

“You will be a liaison for the Favored One on my behalf. You will show him the secret ways in and out of the palace, and will set up one of the hidden chambers as a comfortable meeting place with cushions and a bed.” 

Hasashket twisted about, staring at his master with disbelief. “You and the Favored One ? Are you mad?!” 

“Quite so,” the priest grinned, donning a fresh white robe and cinched it with a new belt of woven gold threads. “You won't be seen, but you must take care not to be caught.” 

“They would tear my limbs off and feed them to the crocodiles! It is madness to touch Pharaoh's property, much less her favorite! You've never had the urge to take a bed mate before, why now?” 

“That is not your concern,” the priest answered coldly. “I can do far worse than feed you to the crocodiles, as you are well aware. Just get it done.” 

Haashket slumped against the table with a pained whimper, then turned back to his task. It was useless to argue. He knew what his master was capable of. He didn't dare cross him, even if it meant putting his life at risk. 

“The Favored One will call me ‘Alastor’,” the priest explained. “It is his name for me.”

“Can't even pronounce it,” Haashket scoffed. “The chambers will be ready as early as tomorrow.”

“Very good,” Alastor nodded, making adjustments to his robes before striding out to return to the surface world. Up there he would be solely devoted to Amun-Ra, and no one could know of his illegal blood rituals, or he would be painfully executed. 

Alastor was used to living with the threat. It made his job entertaining. 

Now that he had the blessings of Apophis to aid him, he only needed to work his charm on the foreign slave, and pull them into his grasp. It shouldn't be too difficult with how painfully lonely the man was. Lucifer may be Pharaoh's favorite, but that brought more scrutiny and duties, not less. 

He had his chance later that week, when Pharaoh and her advisors were present at the temple for a ceremony. To his luck, the Favored One lounged on a cushion next to Pharaoh with his head on her lap like he was a dog, while Pharaoh absently stroked his golden hair. He looked utterly bored.

Alastor silently thanked his Serpent god, and approached the dais with a suggestion. 

 

Modern Day 

 

Lucifer woke up in his tent alone, blinking the sleep from his eyes and adjusting to his surroundings. In his dreams he had been lounging on someone's lap while Egyptian priests performed an elaborate ceremony with incense and offerings around them. 

The dream was so vivid, he could still smell the lingering aroma of cooked pheasant and see the swirling colors of the robes and fans around him. He felt vaguely uncomfortable, as if he didn't really like the person who was possessively stroking his hair. Or was afraid of them. 

He groaned as he struggled to his feet and crossed over to the water pitcher and bowl in order to clean his face and torso, wondering why his body felt like it had been pummeled six ways from Sunday in a rockslide. He was careful not to remove his shirt completely, in case anyone came in. 

He removed the bindings on his chest and examined the small breasts for any bruises or sore areas. Thankfully he was small enough that he was able to get away with simple layers, but that quickly got hot in the desert. The loose bindings were just to ensure that nothing jiggled. Once he had them safely around his chest again, he dressed completely and put on the vest and bow tie that kept him looking respectable even in a hostile environment. 

No one could know his secret, or he would never work in archeology again. 

It wasn't until Lucifer left his tent and saw the commotion around the central office tents that the events of the previous day came crashing down on him. 

The temple! The ritual chamber!

The ancient mummies regrowing with flesh right before his eyes ! 

Cursing his slow brain for taking its sweet time in waking up, he rushed over to the tight group of people that included Adam, Lute, and the smiling stranger who was as finely dressed as an English Lord with a fashionable three piece suit in deep red, but had the tanned skin and dark eyes of the native Egyptians. 

Alastor. The priest of Irimaet. Pretending to be a modern scholar. 

It was confusing as fuck, but Lucifer had to think on his feet if he wanted to unlock the mysteries of Egypt. So he rushed up to the group with a smile and his hand outreached to grasp onto the newcomer's in greeting. 

“Good of you to come, old chap!” Lucifer beamed, pleased when it was returned and his hand was grasped. 

“Not at all, not at all! It's quite the pleasure!” Alastor replied, with an accent so unique it was difficult to place. “I came just as soon as I got your message!” 

Adam looked mad enough to explode, but he glanced suspiciously between the two. “Wait, you know this El-Masry guy?”

“Of course!” Lucifer replied. “We go way back! I asked him out here to help me translate any ruins that we found.” 

“When?!”

“When… we set up camp!” Lucifer nodded. “I was that confident that we would find something, and we did!”

“And why didn’t you tell me ?” Adam demanded, narrowing his bushy eyebrows at the troublesome archeologist he was saddled with. The museum didn’t pay him enough for this shit. 

Lucifer shared a look with Alastor, then laughed nervously. “Well, I- I didn’t know if he would be able to make it! Or when!”

“I had some business to wrap up in Cairo,” Alastor added smoothly. “It is my fortune’s luck that I arrived just as an incredible find was unburied. I brought two servants with me, I hope you don't mind if they set up my quarters?” 

Adam rubbed his temples. “Sure, fine. I guess. But you're here on your own, I can’t guarantee the museum will compensate you.” 

Alastor waved a hand. “Not to worry. I am more than capable of managing myself.” 

“Oh, so you're a money bags, huh?” Adam raised an interested eyebrow. 

Alastor's head tilted slightly in confusion. “Is that a foreign phrase?” 

“It’s American, genius!”

A commotion on the edge of the camp drew everyone's attention to the frantic voices of the laborers and diggers. Most of them spoke Arabic, but some had broken English. Adam nudged Lute, who also served as their translator. 

“Go figure out what their problem is, toots.”

The foreman frowned, but set off quickly to listen to what surely were complaints. 

Lucifer glanced at Alastor's hands, noting they were covered in linen gloves. He recalled that one of them had shriveled up after sharing the mysterious fog with the other two. So it seemed Alastor was taking steps to conceal it. 

“Let's make plans!” Lucifer said with excitement. “We need to open the temple more and map out the rooms, then start categorizing the murals and copying the glyphs-”

Lute rushed back to their group with concern all over her face. “We got some bad news, boss. Three of the diggers were found dead this morning.” 

“The fuck?!” Adam cursed. “How?” 

“I don't know yet. I'll get the doctor to examine them, but the rest are in an uproar. They refuse to go near the temple. They said opening it was a mistake, and there is a curse.” 

Adam rolled his eyes to the sky. “Stupid mumbo jumbo nonsense. Tell them they better get to digging or they won't get fucking paid-” 

“Allow me to speak to them,” Alastor interrupted, his smile charming and willing everyone to be put at ease. “I know the language and their superstitions. I believe I can convince them there is no curse. It was likely the poisonous air that was released when you broke the stone. I can settle them.” 

Adam's sneer swept up and down the taller man, then shrugged as nonchalant as possible. “Do whatever you want, just make sure they dig. We can't lose too many of them or we could have our permits pulled. Lute! Make sure they have extra water today so they don't get any desert sickness!”

Alastor leaned down to speak in Lucifer's ear. “Wait for me in your tent, and I will accompany you to the temple.”

The shiver that skittered down Lucifer's spine had nothing to do with the heat. “Thank you… for helping.” 

Alastor straightened with a smile. “Of course! This is important to you! I will only be a moment!” 

As Alastor strode away, Adam's finger viciously poked Lucifer's chest. 

“Next time, tell me when some rando fucker is gonna show up! I don't want anyone challenging our claim on this, or any future finds!” 

Lucifer held up his hands for peace. “Of course! I am sorry, Adam. He will be very useful, I promise!”

Lucifer bypassed him to duck into the office tent for supplies, like paper and pencils, before heading to the cantina for breakfast. It was difficult to have an excavation that far out in the desert, but they resupplied in town once a week, and the museum was ready to fully fund everything. So long as Lucifer delivered a Pharaoh. 

When Lucifer returned to his tent, he found Alastor waiting for him. “How did it go? What did you say to the workers?”

Alastor’s nose wrinkled. “I now believe that slavery is no more. Such brazen outspokenness would have been tempered with lashes and increased physical labor. You will have no more trouble, and they are ready to serve.”

Lucifer placed the papers on his table and frowned. “I’m… not sure I like the way you phrased that. But we can discuss it later. I want to know everything there is to know about this temple, how it relates to Pharaoh Iramaet, and where the location of her tomb is!” 

“What is the hurry, mry ?” Alastor frowned, approaching the table leaning down over Lucifer. “We should walk together and speak of old times.”

The suggestion startled Lucifer, who made the mistake of looking up and into those deep eyes that carried millennia of loneliness. “Why… why do you call me that? You keep saying ‘mery’. What does it mean?”

“ Mry ?” The other corrected the pronunciation. He brushed two gloved fingers over Lucifer’s lips, an ocean of longing in his gaze. “It means ‘heart’. As you are mine. Don’t you remember?”

A sharp stab of pain behind Lucifer’s right eye made him flinch away. “Ah- sorry, I don’t- I don’t know what you mean. I’m not this- this Favored One that the others called me. I was born in Sweden and grew up there, then studied in England. I’m not-” Lucifer’s stomach twisted. He had no family left, and no one who considered him special. “I’m not what you think I am. I was born just at the turn of this century. You lived thousands of years ago.” 

“Do you think that matters?” Alastor demanded. “I did not know the passage of time while my body rotted and I knew nothing but the endless dark. My soul would recognize yours in any century, in any lifetime!”

He took Lucifer’s face in his palms, stepping in close until they were nearly flush. “I corrupted myself for you… and the moments we stole together were paradise.”

The lungs inside Lucifer’s chest struggled to inflate. Such poetic words had never been intended for him alone. His single minded pursuit of Iramaet and the learning of Ancient Egypt had meant Lucifer had shunned any and all attempts of romantic entanglements. 

His unhelpful mind latched onto a curiously unhelpful detail. “Ah- but I am- I am a man. Like you.”

“Yes. And?” Alastor lifted an eyebrow “That didn’t bother you before.”

Lucifer’s face flushed hotter than the sun. He stepped back and broke the contact, glancing frantically at the door flap to make sure no one was coming in. 

“Was- was that normal in- in your time? For men to- to love each other?”

Alastor crossed his arms. “It was not forbidden, if that is what you mean. Egypt was a civilized nation.”

Lucifer groaned and pushed his hair back. “Well, it’s not like that now . We would both be ridiculed and I would likely be put in jail for it. So- so while I am flattered-” more than flattered, really- “please do me a favor and refrain from showing any signs of affection in front of Adam and the others.”

For a moment, Alastor seemed to seethe, but the darkness was banished from his face and he smiled easily. “Only the foolish would dare to lock you up now that I am free. But for the sake of your reputation, I will do as you ask.”

Lucifer sighed with relief. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” the priest grinned. “I will make you remember. Whatever hold Pharaoh still has on you, I will snatch it from her cold grasp.”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped slightly, but before he could answer his name was being called outside by Adam. He wanted to move out to the dig site, and start the day’s work. Hastily he gathered the papers, sketch pads, and pencils and shoved them into his leather satchel, then turned towards the door flap. 

His elbow was grabbed, and he was pulled back with a yelp into Alastor’ solid chest. 

“Beware of that foreigner with the disrespectful tongue,” his voice caused Lucifer to shiver. “He looks very much like an advisor to Pharaoh.”

“Who?” Lucifer found himself whispering. “Adam?”

“That one,” Alastor growled with deep seated hatred. “Never be alone with him. He is lucky I did not spill his blood on the sands the moment I saw him.” He released Lucifer and brushed past him to leave the tent first.

“You can’t- wait! Alastor!”

Fearing that he would lose his backing of the Museum if Adam died, Lucifer hurried out just in time to see Adam and Lute climb into a jeep together, while the diggers were in the back of a truck. Adam waved him over to the jeep, but Alastor was nowhere to be seen. Grumbling under his breath, Lucifer crossed to the car and climbed in, grateful that Lute was between himself and Adam. 

He would get to the bottom of this crazy mystery. He would!

Notes:

hey shout out to Queen of Plot Twists for talking about Apophis before I even revealed who it was sdkjfhldkgjhdflgkjh

Chapter 6: The Price of Memory

Summary:

Alastor and his servants join the team as a 'linguistic expert', and further study of the temple reveals ancient motivations.

As always, thank you to Natt for the Egyptian knowledge and the beta reading!!! This fic wouldn't be HALF as awesome without them!!

Notes:

apologies for the delay, I had to write a one shot for a zine.

Alastor's fingertips brushed across the ancient, dusty walls, running over the grooves of carven glyphs and pictures, remembering when these dark halls were open and full of light and air, color and sound. The temple where he had served that had once been so full of life, was now a hollow corpse itself. Sand piled over the floors, making the chambers half their size, burying much more at the bottom. 

All of that was gone now.

Silence had been his companion for so long that Alastor nearly flinched when he heard the scrape of the trowels and the picks as they dug away the layers of solidified sand. The beautiful art of Egypt and the pride of her artisans was faded and crumbling, a shadow of her ancient glory.

He walked as a ghost in his own temple.

What was he now? Not a priest. Not a magician. He was a breathing corpse, denied the Afterlife and lingering in the living world. 

He turned a corner and found the oil lamp that provided light to a section of murals that Lucifer was sketching, throwing the pale skin and golden hair into stark relief. The sight was like shade on a hot day, an oasis in the middle of the dunes. 

Wherever Lucifer was… Alastor would follow. He would never be parted from his love ever again. 

He was, and always would be, Lucifer’s devoted. 

Sitting down in modern clothes was a trial. It was uncomfortable wearing so many layers of tight clothes against his skin. Alastor felt smothered. Desert living required light and flowing cloth that draped and caught the breeze, cooling the body. Whoever designed these clothes had no idea what desert life was like. 

He leaned down to look over Lucifer's shoulder. The smaller man was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't noticed Alastor's arrival. 

“You copied that sentence wrong.” 

Lucifer yelped, stumbling backwards and spilling the paper. “Y-you! God! Don't do that!” He gathered the scattered papers, pausing when they flowed back into a neat pile of their own accord without being touched. “How… how are you doing that?” 

Alastor glanced at his right hand. The glove hid the shriveled bone and leathery skin, but he knew it lay beneath. 

“There are many secrets that a High Priest is privy to. Dark secrets. We are keepers of knowledge that would corrupt the average man. I traded much to gain power.” 

Lucifer crept closer, curiosity shining in the lapis eyes. “Those bodies beneath the temple… the ones that are outside where I found your sarcophagus… are they- were they- sacrifices?” 

Alastor didn't answer. He had hoped this modern Lucifer would shy away from the harrowing secrets. 

“I've never heard of human sacrifice,” Lucifer continued. “Which god demands such a practice?” 

“No one demands it,” Alastor scoffed. “It is outlawed. A crime for anyone, even a high priest, or Pharaoh, to perform. Anyone caught is sentenced to be torn apart by lions. The Canaanites had their Ba'al, and other foreign gods, but it was forbidden in Egypt.” 

The middle of Lucifer's brows furrowed. “Were they from your predecessors, then?”

“No, they died by my hands,” Alastor grinned, confessing his crimes with ease. “I took prisoners of war that would not be missed. The last one was a Hittite. Each sacrifice was strategic, earning me either a high position, or the downfall of an enemy. Only the last… the last gave me powers I did not fully understand.” 

Instead of drawing away, Lucifer hunched over his notepad, writing down what Alastor was describing. Any new knowledge of the Ancient Egyptian lifestyle and religion would earn him prestige amongst the scholars. 

“Why do all of that?” Lucifer asked. “Why not work for promotions the traditional way? Did you have a disadvantage?”

“You could say that,” Alastor replied. “My family was modest. My father was a scribe, my mother made wigs for the nobles. I was sent to scribe school when I was a youth. When Irimaet took over for her father, I saw the opportunity in supporting a woman Pharaoh when many wanted her half brother instead. I made predictions that won her victories, and that gained her more power and me, favor.”

Lucifer glanced up. He shuffled about as he struggled to voice his next question. “Does the name ‘Lilith’ mean anything to you?” 

Alastor scowled, barely holding in his anger. “That was the name you gave to Irimaet when you struggled with Egyptian. She allowed you to use it in public except during official ceremonies.”

“Not me,” Lucifer insisted. “The one who looked like me. He was… her concubine? Or so you claim.” 

Alastor crossed his arms. “I do not understand why you don’t remember. How did you know her name when it is not written anywhere?” 

Lucifer winced. He didn't have an answer for that. “I don't know. I just do. The same way I just knew she was a woman.” He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “Nothing makes sense. People don't come back to life! Mummies don't move and talk and- and grow flesh! How is this possible? Explain it!” 

Alastor lifted empty hands. “How do I explain what you already know ? I was denied the Afterlife and my soul was never released! There was no opening of the Mouth and Eyes, and my spirit remained chained to my body. I do not know how your funeral went, I only know how you were-” 

He stopped as pain flashed over his face, and he turned away to hide the expressions that twisted with the memory. 

“What? What happened?” Lucifer insisted. 

“Nevermind,” Alastor answered in a rough voice. “I cannot speak of it yet. Perhaps you will remember eventually.” When he had better control of himself he turned back. “I would rather speak about how we loved, and stole moments together whenever we could.” 

Lucifer chewed on his lip. It would take a lot of convincing to make the priest give up this notion that they were lovers. But perhaps he could use it to his advantage. 

He scooted closer by an inch. “Do you know where Lili- Pharaoh is buried?”

Alastor eased into a knowing smile. “Why should I tell? I would rather take you in the opposite direction and jealousy guard you from anyone else.” 

Lucifer poked his lip out in a pout. “But I’ve been searching so hard! If I find her, and I have evidence of her existence, then I will have funds and grants thrown at me for life! I will have unlimited access to the Museum, and my name will go down in history for significant contributions to our knowledge of Ancient Egypt! Could you help me do that?” 

Leaning on a hand, Alastor closed the distance between them. “Such ambition! How very Egyptian of you. And what is in it for me, hmm? What do I get to lead you back to your master?” 

Lucifer scowled. “She's not my master,” he said stubbornly. “She's dead. I just need to show the world that I am right !” 

Alastor tapped Lucifer's nose. “Then offer me a price, mry . Tempt me.” 

Lucifer blinked, knowing what he was asking for and hesitating only for a second before he pressed his lips gently to theirs. A heartbeat of adjustment and acceptance, and then Alastor was returning the kiss, cradling the back of Lucifer's head to keep him in place. Lucifer couldn't suppress the soft moan, finding it oddly pleasant, even if he had to ignore the fact that merely a day ago the one he was kissing used to be a dried out corpse. 

Flashes of his dream played out in his mind, of walking through gleaming alabaster halls with bright murals, of passing by windows that overlooked the flowing river, and of the sunlight bouncing off the golden beads in the priest’s braids. 

What was Alastor doing in his dreams?

Footsteps in the sand made them break apart, and a second later Husk approached and sank to his knees, half of his face hidden by the turban wrapping to conceal his decomposed cheek. 

“They have opened the inner sanctuary, Master. Amun-Ra's statue is broken, but present. Would you like to offer a prayer? I could look for some incense back at camp.” 

Lucifer scrambled to his feet. “A statue?! Really? Is it big? Show me! Right now!” 

Lucifer was so excited he had taken two turns before he realized he was lost and Alastor had to take his hand and guide him in the opposite direction. Husk was left to pick up the papers and tools that Lucifer had abandoned. 

The statue was exactly as Husk had described, laying on its side and broken at the waist. It was life sized, and the facial features were complete and unaffected by time. Lucifer fawned over it, brushing dust and sand away to clean it. Alastor gave instructions to the diggers with flawless Arabic, to clean the dais so the statue could be replaced to its original settings. 

Adam came swaggering in, puffing on a cigar and watching the proceedings. He was clearly too dainty to lend a hand. “Who is this guy?” He asked, gesturing to the statue. “Is he important?”

His ignorance set Lucifer’s teeth on edge. “This is Amun-Ra, the king of the gods! It’s like you don’t even listen to me when I lecture about the discoveries we’ve made in the last decade!”

Adam sulked. “I listen. The name sounds familiar. So he’s a king and a god?” Adam circled the fallen image and gave a pleased nod. “I’ll have the team get it ready to be crated and shipped to the Museum. It will look very grand in the opening lobby-”

Suddenly the tall, dark form of Alastor loomed over the American and blocked access to the statue.

“You will do no such thing!”

Adam yelped, then swore to cover up his shock. “The fuck is wrong with you?! Trying to give me a heart attack?”

Lucifer wasn’t sure who would explode first, the priest or the American. 

“This is the sacred resting place of Amun-Ra! This is not just a statue, it is his physical idol! To remove him would be the same as removing his blessings from the land, and disrespectful to the gods!” 

Holding his hands up in surrender, Adam laughed nervously. “Woah there! Hold your horses! I’m not being disrespectful at all! This is what the Museum pays us to do, pal! We send artifacts back to the Museum to be studied all the time! It takes a bit of work, but we are careful not to lose it. Don’t you want the scholars back home to study it and learn more about the- what dynasty was this again?”

“The 19th Dynasty,” Lucifer answered. “Though we will still need to date the relics to get an accurate time period-”

“Right! What he said!” Adam pointed, as if to back up his argument. “See? I listen! How else are they going to learn if we don’t send them the stuff we find?”

Alastor glared down at the puffed up man with the full weight of the Nile River. “Ship them trinkets, scrolls, or pottery. This image is sacred , and will remain. I will repair the damage and replace it as it should be, and then you will have a better context for its purpose.”

Seeing that he needed to intervene, Lucifer placed a restraining hand on Adam’s elbow. “Let’s table this for now. We can take pictures after Alastor restores the statue and send those in its place. We really don’t want the government to cancel our permits for purposefully mishandling artifacts.”

It was Lucifer’s arguments that swayed Adam. He shrugged off the embarrassment of being outnumbered. “Fine! Do that, then. Just don’t blame me if the Museum has a fit!”

He stomped off, yelling at the diggers who couldn’t understand him but worked faster anyway. Lucifer breathed easier once he was gone, then turned to Alastor. 

“Why did you warn me about him earlier? He’s a frightful bore, but he’s not violent.”

There were workers around them, so Alastor could not gather Lucifer in his arms as he wished. “Do not be alone with him, mry . He reminds me too much of another.”

Lucifer glared and crossed his arms. “Fine, but you’re going to give me a better explanation next time we have a moment to discuss it!”

As if to punish him, Lucifer made Alastor spend the next hour painstakingly describing the morning rituals it took to care for the god, including feeding and dressing the idol while taking meticulous notes. Alastor didn’t mind, and seemed to hope that the more he described what life was like thousands of years ago, that Lucifer would begin to remember their own. 

They were on their way back to the front of the temple for the midday break when they passed the large mural of Pharaoh Irimaet, flanked by a smaller carving of Alastor as her priest, with an ugly hole in the stone where his face should be. Lucifer’s feet slowed down, then stopped, gazing at it with curiosity. 

“I don’t understand. Here she is being praised for her heroic deeds and valor,” he said in a reverent hush. “Why was her name removed from her monuments?”

Alastor came to stand next to him. “Jealousy, most likely. Irimaet had no children of her own and she was succeeded by her half brother, Adhmose. A lesser Pharaoh, in my opinion, but he would not be content with living in her shadow. Many Pharaohs have carved their own name into monuments and taken claims for deeds that were not their own. It is not unheard of.”

A cold wind made Lucifer shiver. “That is terrible. Why was this temple allowed to keep her image, then?”

The tall man shifted his weight on his feet. “It would have happened after I had been embalmed. In all likelihood, this temple was abandoned and a new one built at the order of Adhmose. They would not want to associate this corrupted place with Amun-Ra any longer.”

Lucifer’s sense of caution abandoned him. He was so close to achieving his goals. Any barrier in between would be torn down by his own hands. 

Turning to Alastor, he gripped the front of the fine suit and pulled them down to his level, his obsession filled gaze urgent and feral. 

“I need to find her, Alastor! I need to! It’s been my dream and my waking nightmare since I was young! I don’t know why but I- I feel as if something will happen once I do! I won’t have peace until I confirm that she is real! Please! Help me! Where is she buried? Where is her tomb??”

First Alastor checked to make sure they were alone, then rested his palm against Lucifer’s cheek. “Sometimes the gods send us on quests. I can see that this is yours. Very well, my heart. I will take you to her. Irimaet’s tomb was constructed in The Great Field, where her predecessors were also laid to rest.”

Tears filled Lucifer’s eyes. He leaned gratefully into the touch. “The Great Field? Where is that? I have never heard of it.”

“The location has likely been lost,” Alastor replied, brushing the pad of his thumb over a cheekbone. “I will need maps of the modern landscape and topography to match with my memory.” He bent down and pressed his forehead against theirs. “Lucifer… I have found you again. Whatever we learn from her tomb, I will not surrender you.”

For a moment, Lucifer allowed himself to believe. “What are you afraid of? That Irimaet will return to life like you did and take me away?”

Alastor’s lips were inches from his own. “I fear a great many things when it comes to you. I was ready to steal you and take you far away from Egypt, back to your home, until we were found out and punished. Not only was I robbed of the Afterlife and locked away in the dark, but she took away our chances of being together.”

“Take me back? Back where?” Lucifer asked, perplexed at the meaning. 

“To the home you described for me. With rolling green meadows and lush forests as far as the eye could see. Where I would not be a priest to anyone, and we could live together until the end of our natural lives.”

Lucifer leaned back, shocked. “You wanted to- to do that? To forsake everything for the one you loved?”  

“And I will suffer a thousand more years of the cold and lonely dark… if it means you remember me again…” 

Lucifer desperately wanted to believe that it was all true, and he was some reincarnated lover of an ancient priest. It would be terribly nice to be wanted by someone. 

He was inches away from surrendering, when stabbing pain in his head made him gasp and pull away. There was a ringing in his ears, and tight pressure around his neck made him gasp for air, as if he was drowning. 

He grabbed his throat, his lungs screaming as he sank to the sand. His name was being shouted. 

No… he couldn't die. Not like this. Alastor… Alastor would be very sad. 

Let his Akh search the heavens and earth for its body. Let it never know rest or peace, and never be reunited with the one he betrayed his master for!

The air rushed back into Lucifer's lungs, shocking his system. He slumped into a pair of strong arms as the world turned black.

Chapter 7: Amber Beads

Summary:

Lucifer has a dream about living as Pharaoh's concubine. After he wakes up they decide to take the search for Pharaoh's tomb elsewhere.

Notes:

As always, thank you for reading!!! And thank you to Natt for your guidance with everything Egyptian! Ancient and modern!! THANK YOU!!!!

The New Kingdom

Temple of Amun-Ra

 

“Is everything alright, my pet?” 

Lucifer turned his eyes up to the woman just above him, her lovely face barely showing her age with only a sly wrinkle or two that one had to squint to see. Pharaoh Irimaet was a beautiful woman, and was aging gracefully, though at the moment she looked more masculine while she wore the blue striped turban and false beard of her office. While Irimaet liked to remind her vassals as often as possible that she was a woman, today her ample breasts were covered with fine threads of gold woven with miniscule colored beads that made a lovely sound every time she moved, a finely crafted garment that both enhanced her features and hid them from view. 

They were at the temple of Amun-Ra, for some ceremony that Lucifer didn’t understand, and he was so bored he had nearly fallen asleep against Pharaoh's thigh. 

He contemplated her question and chose the petulant, but innocent, option. 

“I'm bored, Lilith!” He whined. “We've been sitting here for hours and my legs are falling asleep. How much longer until we can go to the boats?” 

His gamble paid off, earning an indulgent chuckle from Pharaoh. She stroked his hair some more, working her fingers through the golden strands that she prized. 

“My poor sweetling. I have been unfair keeping you here for this long without exercise. It's only for a little while more. Can you bear it?” 

Did he have a choice? Lucifer pouted, but made a show of gazing up at her with blind affection. “Whatever you want, Master. I don’t want you to be lonely.” 

Pharaoh adored it when he fawned over her. It kept up the illusion that he was happy. 

A soft voice spoke up from the other side of Pharaoh's seat, though Lucifer didn’t see the owner at first. 

“Perhaps I can distract the Favored One for the rest of the ceremony, Your Majesty? I can show him the rest of the temple and let him stretch his legs.” 

Lucifer absolutely hated being discussed like he was a horse, and he leaned past Pharaoh's chair to glare at the person who spoke. When he saw it was the High Priest he had spoken to before, his eyes widened and he ducked down to his cushion. 

They discussed him as if he wasn't even there. 

“Will you keep to the temple grounds? I don't want you going far.” 

“I can show him the prayer chambers and the murals that show your great victories and read them to him.”

“Won't you be missed here?”

“My role is already finished, your Majesty. My understudy priests know what to do.”

Realizing he might be able to get away, Lucifer tapped Pharaoh's knee and made his eyes larger and more pathetic. “Please may I go? I would like to hear more of your great deeds!” 

Pharaoh weakened. “Flatterer. Oh, very well. Take a guard with you.” 

“Do you fear for his safety while in my charge, Irimaet?” the priest asked, disapproving. 

She shot him a stone glance. “Next time you use my name in public I shall have you whipped. I suppose you will get offended if I insist. You are more touchy than a crocodile in mating season. Very well, but return quickly when I summon him back!”

The priest bowed deeply, his wide grin hidden by his braids. “Your treasure is safe with me, Pharaoh.”

To Lucifer's astonishment, when the man beckoned for him to follow, Pharaoh nodded her acceptance. Lucifer could not be so bold as to kiss her during an official function, but he pressed two fingers to his lips and then touched them to Pharaoh's cheek.

“Thank you, Great One,” he said, then stepped off his cushion and slipped to Alastor's side, following with a demure posture and a backwards glance to Irimaet so she would think he was reluctant to leave her. 

Once they were out of the main hall, Lucifer turned to the priest with astonishment. “How did you manage that? She never lets me go anywhere without a guard!”

Alastor grinned broadly. “Being High Priest has its perks. This is my temple, and suggesting that you are unsafe in my care is an incredible insult.”

“But- but she is Pharaoh!” Lucifer gaped. 

“Even Pharaohs must obey the laws they create, or they are nothing more than a tyrant that the gods will not tolerate. Now! Would you like to see the lotus ponds first? Or the gardens?” 

Lucifer skipped happily by Alastor's side. “What about Pharaoh's mural, like you said?” 

“Haven't you seen enough of Pharaoh for one day?” Alastor chuckled. 

The bubbles of laughter escaped Lucifer's throat as he realized how free it felt to wander at will with a friend by his side. “Officially, I never get tired of serving her. But I am dying to get my feet wet!”

The wading pools inside the temple were both decorative and functional. They kept the priests and worshippers cool on hot days, and cultivated lotus plants drifted lazily along the surface. Alastor took them to the private wading pools that were meant for priests only. The rooms were blessedly empty while there was a ceremony going on. 

Lucifer splashed in the water, tossing droplets everywhere just to watch them sparkle. He could dance and sing a song from home and not worry about being reprimanded for any false step. There were so many rules that he often broke one without knowing it. 

Alastor sat on the edge of the pool and watched, his eyes roaming over the slender figure and the way the wet linen pleats clung to their curves. Lucifer was bejeweled with gold and bronze cuffs and bracelets, and wore a wide collar of colorful beads around his neck. The slave collar with Pharaoh's cartouche rested on top. It was welded on, and only a blacksmith could remove it. 

Alastor wanted to rip it off. 

A small servant girl approached him with a tray of fresh fruits and pastries drizzled with honey. She knelt and offered the tray, smiling jovially. Her right eye was sealed shut with a nasty scar that looked old. 

“I heard the Favored One prefers sweets, Master. Maybe these will tempt him.” 

Alastor nodded. “Place it there, Nafir. Bring us some wine and juice, then make sure we are not disturbed.”

Nafir bowed and shuffled away to fetch the drinks, her bare feet quietly slapping across the stone. She was well dressed and her shirt hair was cut straight below her ears in the latest style. While others may have resented being sold to pay for their parent's debt, Nafir was happy to be a personal attendant to the High Priest. No one mistreated her in the temple. 

“Come here, Lucifer,” Alastor called. “You must eat. I cannot have you fainting in the heat.” 

The water splashed everywhere as Lucifer approached and flopped to the edge of the pool, his legs splayed out wide in a fashion that might be considered lewd. 

“You've been practicing my name!” Lucifer said with delight, reaching for a fig. “It's not bad!”

Alastor preened at the praise. “I am glad you approve. Have you worked on mine?”

“You mean ‘Akathor’?” Lucifer grinned. 

“My my! You learn quickly!” 

“I prefer Alastor. Can I still call you that?” 

A pleased hum rumbled in Alastor's chest. “I would be honored.”

“Thank you so much for rescuing me!” Lucifer laid flat on his back, his feet kicking idly in the pool. “I don't mind keeping Lilith company when she's got duties, but after a few hours of doing nothing I want to climb the walls!”

Alastor offered a honey drizzled date, delighted when it was plucked from his grasp. “You make her very happy. She has never paid attention to any slave before.”

Lucifer grew quiet, his happy splashing becoming still. “That- is good. I am happy when Pharaoh is happy.” 

It was such a careful and scripted answer. Of course Lucifer would have developed ways to protect himself in his precarious position. Alastor leaned over, throwing shade across the slave's face. 

“We are alone here. I will not repeat your words to anyone.” 

Lucifer's glance was painfully suspicious. “How can I trust you?” 

Alastor's grin stretched wider. “I will not risk Irimaet's jealousy. I also value my life.”

Lucifer huffed and sat up, considering the possibility. He really wanted a friend in this strange land that was nothing like home. Perhaps he could take a small risk.

“Back home… we don't own people. We all work to feed our families and make sure we have warm clothes for the winter months. The smallest Egyptian village is bigger than our tiny settlements. There's more people here than I ever imagined existed! I am still learning what I am supposed to do. Sometimes it's easy, but other times… I feel as if every breath is the wrong thing.”

“Egypt is a mighty empire, but she didn't start off that way,” Alastor replied. “Perhaps your people will one day conquer others.” 

“I doubt that,” Lucifer laughed. “We don’t care about that sort of thing. We only care about our sheep. It is so- so different here.” Lucifer held his arms out, touching the bronze bangles on his wrists. “I am free but- I am not free. They want me to pretend that I am happy to be here. If I knew my way home…”

He left it unsaid, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. 

“You would leave,” Alastor finished for him. The dejected look on the beautiful face made the sun dim. “That is reasonable. Most of our slaves only serve for a short while then return to their families, depending on their debt.”

Lucifer blinked. “Really? It's not… for life?” 

“There are special cases, of course. A slave without a family to return to can stay as a servant. Sometimes the only thing a person has to sell is their labor.” Alastor's expression darkened. Reaching out, his knuckles ghosted over a cheek. “Does Pharaoh mistreat you?” 

Lucifer's eyes widened, but he didn't flinch away. “Oh no! Not at all! Well… not really. She gives me everything I could need and everything I ask for. She is gentle most of the time.” 

“Except?” 

Lucifer chewed on his lip. He didn’t want to complain, but he needed to tell someone . “There are nights when she is in a bad mood. Not because of me, or anything. It is hard ruling a great nation, and she doesn't want anyone to see her as weak. She never hurts me, but… she can be rough, and difficult to please. On those nights, it's best if I do whatever she wants.”

Lucifer curled his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. It made Alastor's blood boil with rage. 

“It's not like I asked to be here,” Lucifer said with more heat in his voice. “It's not my fault my brothers were jealous of me. I wasn't trying to make them look bad! But they tricked me, and when our village was raided they saw an opportunity to get rid of me! So now I’m stuck here, with no one to talk to! And I- I just want a friend!” 

No sooner had the dam of tears started to flow that Lucifer found himself scooped up and held tightly by strong, brown arms. The scent of Alastor's perfume oil was sandalwood and desert rose, but it was the gentle voice in his ear that made his muscles relax. 

“Then let me be your friend, little one. Lucifer. You can teach me your language and I will aid you whenever I can. Would that help you tolerate your bonds a little more?”

Lucifer sniffed and nodded. “Yes. Yes it would. But Pharaoh can't suspect anything, or she will get jealous and keep you from me. She said no one is allowed to touch me except her.” 

Pushing Lucifer off his chest, Alastor brushed the lines of smudged kohl from the corners of Lucifer's eyes. “Of course. Irimaet's anger is legendary. We will reapply your kohl before we return, but she will only think you've been cooling off in the pool. I have two servants who will help us. The girl with the scar on her eye is Nafir, and a ouab priest named Haashket. I will send them any time we need to pass messages.”

Lucifer's brows narrowed. “I don't want anyone getting in trouble for my sake. And we aren't- we aren't doing anything bad. I would just like to spend a bit of time with you like this. When Lilith allows me to.” 

“Of course,” Alastor agreed without an argument. “It would be a break from your duties, and we can teach each other. Perhaps you would like to learn how to read?”

“Oh, I would!” Lucifer exclaimed, his mood shifting to true happiness. He felt lighter than air, as if he could float away! What a difference it was having a friend to confide in! “Wait, I want to give you a token!” 

 From around his waist, Lucifer untied his string of amber beads that he had brought from his homeland. He tied the ends in a knot and pressed it to Alastor's hand with a smile. 

“A gift from me to repay your kindness.” 

Alastor considered the treasure in his hand with silent awe. No gold in all of Egypt would buy these beads from him. His fist closed around the string, and he held it to his chest. 

“I will hold these dearly and keep them safe.”

“You promise?” Lucifer beamed. 

Alastor thought of the ritual he had performed, and what he was risking. He thought a night with the slave would be enough to satisfy his craving, but now he wasn’t so sure when their smile was brighter and warmer than the sun could ever be? 

For the first time, Alastor began to question if he had bitten off more than he could chew. 

“I promise.” 

1920's Egypt

 

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open. To his surprise, he was back in his tent and lying on his cot, though he had no recollection of returning. The last thing he remembered was wading in a pool full of lotus blossoms-

No. That was wrong. He had been inside the temple, but it was ancient now. He and Alastor had been talking about remembering and then…

Lucifer's body felt so heavy. He wasn't prone to fainting spells. Was he about to start his monthly bleed? 

A shifting shadow entered his vision and resolved itself into Alastor's concerned face, blinking at his level as if he was kneeling next to the cot. That same face… Lucifer could almost swear he had seen it before. 

He reached out and touched the nearby cheek. “I wish… I was the person you believe I am,” he said with regret. Alastor gasped and laid his hand on top of theirs, pressing it against his skin. “You must have loved them dearly to defy Pharaoh.” 

“I did…” Alastor replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I still do. I will love you if you remember me or not.” 

Lucifer sighed and forced his body up. He didn't have time to lounge about. 

“I keep getting headaches when you mention things. Let's pretend that I am the descendent of your lover, and not actually him. Then I won’t get confused and faint. Can we try that?”

“Whatever you want, my heart,” Alastor reluctantly replied, nuzzling the palm before letting go. “I will refer to you- to him , as The Favored One. Will that be enough?” 

Lucifer accepted that and rose to search for the papers he had sketched at the temple. “How long has it been? Where is Adam? We will need maps so you can work out where Irimaet's tomb is-” 

He paused, spying an object on the table that he had never seen before. He picked up the small bead and examined it in the light of a lamp. It shone like honey.  

“Alastor? Where did you find this?” 

Silence answered him. When Lucifer looked around, he found that he was alone. 

“Alastor?” 

Outside his tent, someone coughed and said in a rough voice. “You better be decent, Lucy! I’m comin’ in!” 

The tent flap was shoved aside and Adam stormed in as Lucifer was tucking in a clean shirt and attaching his suspenders. 

“Damnit, Adam! Can't you wait for a bloody invitation?”

“Then I wouldn't get an eyeful,” Adam replied without a smidge of remorse. “Now can you stop dying for five minutes and giving me multiple heart attacks?! You're making this a habit!”

“Careful, Adam, it almost sounds like you care about me,” Lucifer teased, sitting on his cot to put on his boots. 

Adam scoffed angrily. “More like Mammon will be up my ass for losing his precious scholar. Speaking of which, do you have any more leads to that tomb you're lookin’ for?” 

“Actually, I do!” Lucifer said with excitement. “It was Alastor who found the directions, and he can find it on the map-”

A flat palm stopped his forward momentum, blocking him from the exit. 

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Adam asked in a tone more serious than Lucifer had ever heard before. “He shows up out of nowhere and follows you around like a- a creepy shadow. What do you know about him?” 

Lucifer wasn't sure if he should feel flattered or angry. He crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his brows. 

“He's a colleague of mine and I vouch for him. Has he said or done anything that makes you suspicious?” 

Adam rubbed the back of his thick neck. “It's just a strange coincidence, that's all. He acts so high and mighty, as if he knew everything and we know shit. Just… be careful, ok? Remember that I've got your back.” 

Pleasantly surprised, Lucifer returned a smile. “Thank you, Adam. I will be careful. Just trust that Alastor is exactly who I need right now.” 

Adam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah yeah, I knew it when I saw his annoying smile he was gonna try to charm you. I know such things aren’t talked about in Europe, but… well, no one can tell us what to do in this wasteland. No one can find a body, either.” 

The shift from opportunistic predator to protective brother made for an awkward moment, but Lucifer insisted they look at maps while they had breakfast and decide what they would do while the crew went to the temple dig site. He asked about the three who had died and if they had discovered what from. Adam said the doctor couldn't find an obvious cause, so they decided it was likely dehydration, as all three of them looked extremely dry. Adam had adjusted the water rations so it wouldn’t happen again. Lucifer hoped that was the case, as he felt bad for three men losing their lives for his project. 

They were halfway through breakfast in the communal tent when Alastor came sauntering in, followed by a meek Nifty in a white dress and a light colored scarf that covered her hair. Lucifer felt better seeing her dressed like a local, so she wouldn't get as much attention. 

“Are you recovered from your spell, ketet ?” Alastor asked as a way of greeting.

“The fuck did you call him?” Adam demanded. 

“It’s just an Egyptian word that mean “little”, ok? It’s not an insult,” Lucifer reassured him.

“Very good,” Alastor purred under his breath. 

It took Lucifer a second to understand, but then he blushed. He couldn't remember where he had learned that word, but the meaning felt right. He indicated one of the folding chairs for Alastor to sit in, and once he joined them at the table Nifty passed him a cup of tea, then offered one to Lucifer. Unused to such service, Lucifer looked perplexed. 

“Um, thank you, Naf- Nifty. Have you already eaten? There’s plenty here!” He indicated the table laden with pastries. Their patron had made sure they would be comfortable while digging up ancient treasure. 

Nifty bowed her head without saying a word and backed up, stopping at the edge of the tent and kneeling down to wait for more orders. It was surreal to the other two. 

“Is she touched in the head?” Adam asked. 

“Pay her no mind,” Alastor replied smoothly. “She is used to serving in a particular way. Now! Show me these maps and I shall locate the tomb with the descriptions I found on the walls.”

Using that excuse for his knowledge, Alastor perused the maps with a keen eye, taking measurements as if he had to translate and discover their meaning instead of simply comparing old with new. His brows creased with concentration, and he started muttering under his breath. Lucifer could hear him, but he didn't think Alastor was speaking English. 

“ That can’t be right… has it changed so much? Further west… oh that is much farther from the bank. That looks correct… aha! ”

Adam inhaled a large puff of smoke from his cigar and ended up coughing and choking in surprise. “The fuck?!” 

Alastor used a pencil to circle an area that looked like a wedge. “Right here! According to the murals, this area was once called Ta-sekhet-ma’at , or what could be called ‘The Great and Majestic Necropolis of the Millions of Years of the Pharaoh, Life, Strength, Health in The West of Thebes’!”

“That's a huge fucking mouth full,” Adam remarked. 

“But for now, let's call it “the Great Field.” It houses the tombs of Pharaoh's and their high officials. It is not far from Thebes, a few hours ride by chariot.” 

Adam and Lucifer shared a concerned look. 

“Where the hell are we gonna get chariots? Are you sure that's the place, skip?” Adam asked. 

Alastor crossed his arms, glaring. “Of course I am sure!” 

Lucifer groaned and lowered his face into his hands. “That's a problem. These days it's called the Valley of the Kings, and it takes forever for a work permit and clearance from the government to dig. And Carpenter is there! With his child king!”

“Makes sense though,” Adam shrugged. “We are looking for a Pharaoh. But do we know where in the Valley she would be?” 

“I can lead you straight to the spot,” Alastor sniffed, displeased that he was doubted. 

“You sure are resourceful,” Adam said dryly. “What did we do without you?” 

“Stumble about in the sand, no doubt.” 

“Fellas!” Lucifer interrupted, agitated and hot. “That won't help us get a permit! That could take months , and in the meantime someone else could find our Pharoah! That's unacceptable! I am running out of time!”

Adam scowled. “What's that supposed to mean? We don’t have a deadline. In any event we need to register this site and do all the paperwork here before we can move.” 

Lucifer shot to his feet. “No! We have to find Irimaet! I can't explain why, but I must!”

He was stopped by Alastor's calming hand on his shoulder. “Lucifer, tell me how old you are.” 

“Twenty four. Why?” 

Alastor didn’t respond, but he looked troubled. “I see. Then how about this. We go in as a small team, just us, and find the tomb and open it. This will give us evidence to provide to the authorities, and we secure the sarcophagus before anyone else can.”

Lucifer was practically buzzing, wanting to ask questions, but glad that someone was listening. “Modern day grave robbers, huh? Will you be mad at me for disturbing their rest?” 

“Not at all!” Alastor laughed. “Irimaet doesn't deserve rest.”

“Hold up! You're not going anywhere without me!” Adam declared. “Do you know how dangerous that is?! Jail would be the least of your worries! And anyway, how are we gonna dig an entire fucking tomb at night without being seen?” 

“We don't have to! We just have to find the entrance!” Lucifer replied. “We can take all the time we need to do things properly after I find Irimaet!” 

Adam grumbled and scrubbed his hair. “Stubborn little- fine! We go as a small group. If we can find it quickly, we can break in and stake our claim before we are caught.” 

“I will send my man out first,” Alastor said. “He can secure the location without being seen.”

Lucifer nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes! By Pharaoh's beard, we will succeed! ” 

Lucifer didn’t see the confused look from Adam, or the shock on Alastor's face. He was already out the tent door, heading to pack up his equipment and clothes for a speedy departure. It never occurred to him that he had spoken in a language so ancient the pronunciations were still being discovered and compared to others in the region. To his ears, it sounded English. 

But Alastor knew, and the servant girl knew. They shared a secretive smile, quietly amused at Adam's confusion.

Chapter 8: The Valley of the Kings

Summary:

The search for Irimaet's tomb relocates to a familiar valley that houses other famous Pharaohs.

Notes:

Thank you everyone for the enthusiasm so far!! This fic continues to delight Natt, who does all the research and keeps me accurate, and we ADORE the way people are picking up historical clues! Enjoy this chapter!

Lucifer stood on the cliff that looked down into the Valley of the Kings, gazing down from his perch as the cold night wind of the desert attempted to slide under his clothes and freeze him to the bone. As brutally hot as the Egyptian day was, the night was the opposite kind of searing temperature. He was dressed in the loose clothing of the locals, and his face was hidden by the turban that kept sand from getting in his hair. 

Not the best of disguises, but hopefully they wouldn't be discovered. 

The hairs on his neck began to prickle, letting him know that someone was approaching. 

Not someone. Alastor. 

“What a beautiful night,” the seductive voice purred in the dark. “A sight I thought I would never see again.”

Heat rushed through Lucifer’s veins, warming him better than a mug of ale. Why did their voice have to make his nipples tingle beneath the bandages?

“I’m sure it looks a lot different than when you saw it last.”

“Oh, very different! Still… some things remain the same.”

Lucifer felt more than saw the smile that was aimed at him. He ignored the implications and gazed along the dark valley to the twinkle of lights in the distance, about a mile from where they stood. 

“That is our competition,” Lucifer scowled. “Carpenter and his crew have risen to scholarly fame overnight for finding an intact tomb with all the burial offerings still there. It was bloody luck that they found the doorway, that's all.” 

Alastor hummed in amusement to hear the thick jealousy in Lucifer's voice. “Whose tomb are they disturbing? Perhaps it is a Pharaoh I am familiar with.”

“His name is Tutankhamun,” Lucifer replied with gritted teeth. “That's what they have been able to translate, anyway.” 

Beside him, the priest gave a start. “The successor of the Heretic? Truly? I am shocked his tomb wasn't raided before!”

Lucifer's jaw dropped. “You know him?! Carpenter hasn't had a chance to date his reign yet, but- what do you mean ‘Heretic'?” 

For once, Alastor looked uncomfortable, crossing his arms and scowling at the camp far below. “We do not speak of him much. His name was meant to be wiped out, along with his entire line. The lunatic Pharaoh changed his name from Akhen amun to Akhen aten when he ascended the throne. He was… eccentric. Mad. His Queen equally so. He tried to ban the worship of all gods except the Aten, or sun disc, claiming that Aten was the only god. It was preposterous! We priests only speak of him as a warning to the way his rule threatened our very way of life. When he finally entered the Eternal Sleep, his body was hidden, along with his wife's. Their son, Tutankhaten, then came to power, though he was but a boy. He had proper respect for the gods and changed his name to Tutankhamun, as it should have been.”

Lucifer's eyes shone with interest, reflecting the moonlight. “That is fascinating!! I had no idea there was such a period in Egyptian history when they worshipped a single god!” 

“Were forced to!” Alastor snarled. “I am shocked there is anything left of his legacy at all!” 

Lucifer giggled and danced a silly little jig. “But Carpenter doesn't know that yet! He only just found it! It will take years to translate the murals, and I know more than he does! Hahaha!” 

He cavorted about while Alastor watched and shook his head in disbelief. Some things truly did not change. When he laid a hand on Lucifer's turban and pointed his head in the direction of the opposite end of the valley, Lucifer became still at last. 

“There Irimaet lies in slumber,” Alastor said. He felt Lucifer tense beside him. “Husk has built a dune barrier to block the view of our activities. If we dig by night, no one will know we are here.” 

“I was so close…” Lucifer murmured. He was practically vibrating. “I don't care how long it takes for the four of us to uncover the entrance! I don't care if they drag me away in chains after! She has to be there! I have to see her!” 

“I believe I can be of help with that matter,” Alastor said. 

Lucifer tore his eyes away from the valley below. “How?” 

The secretive smile made his knees feel oddly weak. 

“I have many powers at my disposal besides just shadows. Shall I demonstrate?” 

Dark arms draped with black robes lifted to shoulder height, fingers spread wide with palms facing the ground. Alastor's eyes closed in a trance as he began to chant in a low and hypnotic voice. Beneath his sandled feet, the ground trembled, disturbing the rocks and sand. Lucifer's eyes widened and he pulled his robes tighter around him as Ancient words made the earth shudder. 

It started as a mini earthquake beneath their feet. Then a crack appeared, breaking the rock beneath them that sifted sand to an unseen bottom. It widened to the width of a hand, then traveled down the cliff, a jagged line spreading to the valley floor below. 

Lucifer yelped as his feet were swept out from under him. He reached out and grabbed Alastor's robes, using their waist as an anchor until the shaking stopped, and the ground became solid once more. 

Alastor's arms surrounded him and held him close. “All is well, my heart. I have shaken the rocks loose to make our way easier. It did not disturb the tomb itself.” 

It was startling how comfortable their arms were. Lucifer realized he was relaxing into the embrace, as if he had done it many times before. 

“Great! Thanks!” Lucifer squeaked, breaking out and adjusting his robes, glad that the darkness was hiding the blush to his cheeks. “You're going to have to explain to me what god gave you these powers in exchange for those sacrifices. But first let's dig out this tomb!” 

He turned towards the path that lead to the valley floor, but he was once more swept up in arms, carried like a bride in Alastor's arms, who moved faster than was possible for a human. 

“Quite right, ketet ! The sooner you fulfill your quest, the sooner we can work on restoring your memories!” 

Lucifer groaned to himself, but did not object to the travel speed. Nothing he said could convince Alastor that he was not Pharaoh's favorite slave. He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth fighting the idea. 

His dreams continued to show him a vibrant city by the Nile, with houses made of stone and straw that was baked in the sun, and breathed with the lungs of thousands of people. He sometimes saw a woman's face, beautiful and stern, but softened when she looked his way. More often he saw the dark face of the priest with his multiple braids set with gold beads. Sometimes there were lessons in reading and writing hieroglyphics, surrounded by slaves with feathered fans and airy curtains that flowed in the river breeze. 

Oddly enough, Lucifer was translating the murals better after those dreams. Even if he didn’t know the glyph, the meaning jumped out at him, eager to be understood after thousands of years of silence. He couldn't explain it, and thankfully Adam didn't suspect anything was different, as long as he had new reports to send to the Museum. 

Lucifer was roused from his thoughts when their movement stopped, and Alastor lowered his feet to the ground in front of a low tent that was covered in a thick layer of sand. From above, anyone would think it was a part of the dune, but the front opened, revealing Husk's suspicious face.

He beckoned them into the tent. “There you are! I've been breaking my back with these rocks, and then you go and nearly bring the damned cliffside down on us!”

Lucifer crawled through the small opening and discovered the inside was illuminated by glass covered lanterns that would help them work during the night. The small earthquake had shaken the cliff face loose. His heart rose to his throat when he spotted a smooth brick peaking out through the rubble. 

“Is that- is this where-”

Husk glanced in the same direction and nodded. “That's it. Took forever to find it thanks to the changes. All we have to do is clear it away. Might take two or three nights.”

Lucifer eagerly picked up a woven basket and took it to the bottom of the rock pile. “Right! Let's get started, then! Adam and Lute will be here soon, and we can get a chain going.” 

Husk shook his head, the baldness covered by the turban he continued to wear. “It sure is strange to see Pharaoh's favorite doing manual labor. Almost as strange as the wine.”

Lucifer shoved rocks into the basket, then turned towards Alastor, only to find that the man was gone. “Where did Alastor go?” 

Husk grumbled and took the heavy basket from Lucifer. “Probably checking that no one is around. Hopefully he brings back some ka for us. My legs are feeling stiff.” 

Lucifer blinked. “By ka you mean-” all of a sudden, the meaning hit him. “Wait! The diggers who died were- you mean he ate their souls?!”

The gruff priest coughed a nasty sounding laugh. “Thought you knew that already! Gotta make these old bones work somehow! At least my face is whole again.” He rubbed the cheek that had been leathery and necrotic just a few days ago. “There’s a camp at the other end of the valley. He probably went to harvest a few.” 

Lucifer had to sit down and breathe to process that. “But that- that is Carpenter's camp!! If all his workers start to die, then there will be an investigation, and they will come out and find us out and-”

“Peace, mry ,” Alastor's voice interrupted, followed shortly by the man himself. His height took up more space in the tent, and he was looking at Husk sternly until the other shuffled over to the rubble and started digging. “I am careful with who I take, and how much. The three in the beginning were necessary, as I had three khet to restore. I can slow down and take only what I need.” 

“But-but you killed them!” Lucifer said, in obvious distress. 

“I have killed a great many people in the service of Pharaoh,” Alastor shrugged, unbothered by the accusation. “I led her armies against the Hittites and delivered her many victories.”

“We don't do that now!” Lucifer hissed. Alastor's complete lack of empathy for his victims was extremely off putting. “I forbid you from taking anymore ka from people!” 

Husk bent over with a wheezing laugh. “ Now he sounds like the Favored One! Haha! If the Master doesn’t keep us with a steady supply of ka , then we go back to our wrinkly and dry corpse state. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not! But we can't just go around killing people-!”

Warm hands folded around Lucifer's, and to his astonishment Alastor was on his knees in front of him, penitent and concerned. 

“My heart, I do not wish to startle or upset you. I must harvest what I can to keep our bodies alive. I will use the utmost care to choose men who will not be missed or connected with you in any way again. I will make their deaths look natural. In the meantime I will find a way to make this change permanent, so we are not reliant on the ka . Will that please you?”

Lucifer faltered, unsure how to answer. Why did the thought of his anger make Alastor tremble like a leaf? 

“I- I guess if going without means you will look like… a mummy… no, we can't have that either.” Lucifer groaned and gently removed his hands from Alastor's grip. “Ok, fine. If you must. But… take the old and infirm. You know like- the ones who don't have long to live anyway. At least I can pretend it's a good thing to assuage my guilt.”

“Some of the Master's sacrifices were men who had abused their wives and children,” Husk put in, trying to be helpful. “He could probably do that again- ACK!” 

A thin vine made of black shadows wrapped around Husk's ankle and tugged him roughly off his feet and into the dust. 

“Don't you have work to do?” Alastor said coldly, no longer kneeling but looming over his servant. Husk scrambled to get away and picked up his shovel, but his disgruntled muttering was heard for several minutes after. 

“We all have work to do!” Lucifer said, picking up another woven basket. He could bury himself in hard work and forget about the conversation they had just had. “Where is Nifty? We need everyone's help.”

“Nifty is our lookout,” Alastor replied, picking up a shovel himself. “She will make sure no one approaches us.” 

Once her name had been spoken, Nifty's head peeped into the tent with a cheeky smile. “The pale ones are almost here, Master! Their metal animal clanks and stinks! I want to make the ugly one shriek again!” 

“Nifty, that's unkind!” Lucifer chided her. “Lute isn't ugly!” 

“She means that Adam fellow,” Husk said. 

Nifty giggled and disappeared again. Lucifer shook his head and returned to his work, unable to make any arguments. The loud, obnoxious, and self absorbed American had never been Lucifer's type anyway. 

No, his type was… tall. Dark. Mysterious. Commanding. Someone with wit and cunning to turn a bully's words against them. 

Someone like the several thousand year old man next to him who effortlessly wielded the shovel with muscles that moved enticingly beneath the black robes. The many braids might be gone, along with the golden beads, but Alastor's hair was dark and curly when damp with sweat, and the style suited him. 

Not that Lucifer was looking. He was busy hauling baskets of rocks. 

Things moved faster once Adam and Lute joined them. Because of the need for secrecy, they couldn't risk bringing the diggers from the temple site. They had planned to leave Lute behind to continue the front, but she adamantly refused to allow Adam to go anywhere without her. Instead the job had gone to her lieutenant, and she used her calloused hands and muscled arms beside the others. 

At first, Lucifer worked with a single mindedness that made him tune out most of the idle conversations going on around him. Adam kept making snide remarks at Alastor, trying to fish for information, but was rebuffed every time with a laugh or a witty comeback. 

Over the course of the night, those laughs and chuckles took root in Lucifer's stomach, making it turn tricks and twisted about every time the sound reached his ears. When Alastor came to work beside him, hauling rocks and sand away together by the baskets, Lucifer kept catching glimpses out of the corners of his eyes, watching the way the lithe body worked. 

He nearly got a nosebleed when he turned about with a miniature boulder in his arms to find Alastor was bare from the waist up, his dark skin glistening with sweat in the light from the lanterns. Muscles rippled beneath flawless skin, the broad chest tapering at the waist with proportions so beautiful they could have been carved in marble by an artist. 

“Can I take that for you, Favored One?” 

The boulder was removed from his arms without waiting for a reply. 

Alastor pushed the curls back from his eyes and attacked another pile of sand with the shovel. Beads of sweat dripped down the chiseled pectorals.

“Shall I wipe the drool from your chin, Favored One?”

The touch of cloth to his lower lip finally brought Lucifer out of his trance and focused on Husk's amused smirk. He chased the man off with a few choice curses, making even Adam raise his eyebrows in shock. 

After that, Lucifer snapped at anyone who got too close, choosing to renew his energy into finding the dead Pharaoh that he knew was behind the stone wall. He would find Irimaet, or die trying!

~~~~

Lucifer crashed onto the hotel bed without even removing the bathrobe that covered his naked skin. He was tired and sore all over from the hours of digging and moving heavy baskets. They had barely made a dent in the big pile of rubble that blocked Irimaet's tomb, and it would take several more nights to completely clear it. 

In the meantime, Adam had checked them into a hotel in nearby Luxor that catered to Western clientele. Husk had been ordered to remain behind and continue digging, since he did not require rest like the others, only ka from the High Priest. Nifty was sent on errands, mostly to keep her busy. 

Lucifer didn't care what the others did. He couldn't even muster the energy to get up and bind his chest. He would just have to risk falling asleep without his usual precautions and pray that he wouldn't be disturbed. 

 

He drifted off into a deep sleep, and dreamed of Egypt.

Notes:

Just like in the movie, names have been changed to add a silly flare. So Carter is now Carpenter bc I had it wrong the first time and Natt and I laughed at the mistake.

Chapter 9: Secret Meetings and Secret Passages

Summary:

Lucifer dreams of the first night he spent with Alastor, then wakes up and wants to repeat it.

Notes:

hello and welcome to the smutty interlude!! It's delicious because you get both ANCIENT smut and modern day smut. 2 in 1!! Also face sitting, my beloved

Pharaoh's Palace

 

Lucifer checked over his shoulder for the hundredth time, still expecting a palace guard to find him behind this statue of Isis and drag him back to the harem. He had slipped out while Pharaoh was having an important dinner with foreign allies and members of state, and only official wives were allowed to attend. 

Which gave him a free evening. 

Well, as free as he could get.

It had taken him many weeks to gather the nerve to give a message to Nafir to deliver to her master, and now he was nervously waiting in his designated hiding place for Alastor to arrive. 

He had started his friendship with Alastor with the premise they would not be doing anything bad to assuage his guilt. A secret meeting was definitely bad . He would be punished if Pharaoh found out he was meeting the priest without permission. 

But the longing that had taken root over the last few months had grown to an ache that he couldn't ignore. Every lesson in reading and writing with Alastor carefully guiding his reed stick in the practice clay added fresh coals to the burning heat under his skin. When Alastor took him on ‘walks' during boring ceremonies, Lucifer found ways to make the priest laugh with his antics, then replayed the echoes of the sound to himself when he was lying next to Lilith on the pillows, singing her to sleep. 

In the short two years since he had been in Egypt, Lucifer had been property . Valuable property, and well taken care of, but a slave all the same. He had a purpose and a job, and was in charge of Pharaoh's rest and her pleasure, but he didn't have a choice in the matter, he never did. It chafed like the collar around his neck. 

When he was with Alastor, none of that mattered. Alastor wanted to know what Lucifer wanted , and took great pains to make it happen, if it was within his power. Which was considerate. 

Lucifer knew he was being greedy, reaching for more when he had no business being discontent. This was a mistake. He was risking everything, including his life. A life with Pharaoh was infinitely better than anywhere else he could have been sold to, and as far as masters go, Lilith was a good one who saw to all his needs. 

But this wasn’t about Lilith, or even Alastor. It was about taking control of his life again! 

So when a soft touch on his shoulder accompanied the smooth voice that spoke his name in greeting, he spun on his heels and immediately threw himself against the broad chest and buried his face against the soft leopard hide. There was a gasp above him, then the arms he had been dreaming about wrapped completely around his waist and pulled him close.

“What is this? Has something happened, Lucifer?”

Lucifer rubbed his face in the hide, rising onto his toes for a better grip around their middle. “No, nothing happened. It's been nearly a full week since I have seen you, and I know you’re busy and can't always make time for me but… I missed you.” 

Alastor's breath stuttered. “You… missed me? Oh, ketet … I will always have time for you.” 

The glide of Alastor's fingers in his hair instantly made the tension in Lucifer's shoulders melt. He shouldn't have allowed the touch, but he craved it. His yearning was not one sided after all, as he had hoped. 

“Is this why you summoned me? To hold me captive behind the goddess of love?” Alastor half teased. 

Lucifer lifted his gaze and with all seriousness replied, “Yes. I needed to know if you felt for me what I feel for you, or go crazy with the uncertainty. If I am being too bold, or- or I have gotten it wrong, then we will part as friends and never speak to each other again- mmfph!” 

Lucifer's feet were lifted off the floor, his lips sealed against Alastor's with a strength that could rival the tides. He dangled in the priest's arms but felt no fear, clinging to the strong shoulders as he drowned in the kiss that claimed his soul. 

“You are not wrong,” Alastor's raspy voice said when they finally broke contact. Lucifer's feet were returned to the polished stone, but Alastor's mouth remained only an inch away. “I have been collecting your smiles like precious stones, hoarding them away like a thief. I thought I worshipped the sun before now, but I was merely worshipping its shadow. The real sun is right here… blessing me with his light.” 

Tears filled Lucifer's eyes, relief and happiness in equal parts that he had been right. He laughed softly, pressing forward again for another kiss. Then another. It was nice to kiss Lilith, but that was also expected. It was thrilling to be kissing someone because he wanted to! 

“We are both mad for doing this!” Lucifer murmured, unable to tear himself away. “Any moment we could be discovered and then our lives would be forfeit.” 

Alastor's arms tightened possessively around his waist. “My life belonged to you the second you bestowed a new name on me. Oh, my heart… my shining sun…”

He bent for more kisses, but prudence finally made Lucifer turn his head. 

“We- we can't get carried away. It's too dangerous. We have to keep these meetings brief and only when I won’t be missed by Lilith.” Lucifer laid his palm against Alastor's cheek. “Will this be enough? Can you be content with only kisses?” 

To answer, Alastor beckoned with a finger and took Lucifer's hand, guiding him around the statue and down the hall while Lucifer silently panicked. Alastor stopped before a statue of Pharaoh, with Lilith's blank eyes staring sternly out at anyone passing by. 

“Watch,” Alastor said, then took hold of the flail of office and pulled it down. 

A hidden door behind the statue swung open. Lucifer gasped, bending down to gaze within. 

“These passages are only known by a few,” Alastor said in a low voice. “We can use them to mask our movements, and my servant will keep watch when we meet. If you want to meet.” 

Lucifer started at the question. He hadn’t thought it was possible, as he was so closely watched. But with these passages, he could slip away, and not be followed, and maybe, just maybe, get to take back a little of what he had been robbed of. 

Making up his mind, Lucifer ducked into the passage, the door extremely low even for him, and was grateful that he could stand up on the other side. Alastor quickly joined him, and the door shut without a sound on well oiled hinges. 

Then Lucifer was shoving the priest against the rough stone surface of the passage wall, his eyes burning in the dim light. 

“Do I want to meet you in secret? I've thought of nothing else! Your hands on my thighs, your mouth on mine, your face above me while I hold back from screaming your name! All the things I learned to fake for Lilith's sake, I want to experience for real ! With you!” 

He might as well have broken a dam that held back the waters of the Nile. No more words were exchanged for a while, only heated kisses and soft moans that were muffled by the stone, keeping their secret entombed in the walls. Alastor picked him up effortlessly, hungrily devouring Lucifer's mouth while the slender pale legs wrapped around his waist. Sweat quickly gathered between them as their heated kisses continued, the touches igniting a burning pyre that would destroy them both. 

When Alastor's hand slipped beneath Lucifer's linen skirt and grabbed a handful of the tender ass cheek, Lucifer squeaked in alarm, squirming until Alastor relocated the touch. 

“I’m sorry!” Lucifer choked out. “We can’t- not yet… not right now.”

Alastor licked his swollen lips, dragging his sanity back to his body by force. If Lucifer said they couldn't, then he would have to accept it. 

“When?” 

Lucifer's brows furrowed in thought. “It- it’s because she- Pharaoh… she doesn't take me to bed every night. Sometimes we just talk or- or I tell her a story and sing something from my homeland until she sleeps. Then I can go back to my own rooms if I want to. But if she wants to fuck me, and I show signs that I have already indulged without her… she would get suspicious.” 

Alastor leaned in, resting his mouth against a creamy shoulder. “I understand. As much as I desire you, I will be content with stealing an hour here and there with only your smile for company.”

Lucifer moaned, soft and pathetic. “That's- we can still… gods below, I need you, Alastor! We just have to be strategic. We must wait for a night after Lilith has already taken me to bed, and then anything that we do can be attributed to her.”

Alastor's kisses were renewed, traveling over and around the golden collar with the engraved cartouche. 

“She might have you first, but I will have more of you than she ever will.” 

To be kissed in such a sacrilegious way made Lucifer's cock ache with pure lust. He could get drunk on this feeling. 

“How can I send a message?” Lucifer asked, trying to think around the haze of desire. “Will Nafir be around enough?” 

“She can come by every evening, and a simple gesture will tell her yes or no.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Alright. We can meet later tonight. After the state dinner. Lilith will feel threatened by the other rulers and advisors showing off their wives and making subtle jabs at her for being unmarried and childless. She is a little rough when she’s angry, but I can handle it knowing I’ll see you after.” 

“My heart,” Alastor murmured against his skin. “I will be waiting for you, to wash you clean and replace her touch with my own.” 

Lucifer scrambled down and checked that his clothes were fine, and Alastor assured him that the kohl had not budged. There was no outward sign that they had been locking lips moments before. Lucifer could slip out of the secret passage and walk through the hallways and back to his rooms as if nothing had happened. 

Except everything had changed. 

He was right that Lilith arrived in the harem with ill concealed fury and possibly a little drunk. He had been expecting her, ready to soothe her ego with kisses and cutting insults for her enemies, even playing up her favorite fantasy where he was her devoted wife and she was the husband. She fell asleep afterwards, fully content, and he knew she wouldn't stir until morning. 

He spared her a single kiss on her forehead as a silent apology before slipping away, out of the rooms and around the guards that he had memorized their patterns perfectly for this reason. 

His heart pounded in his chest, at war with the guilt, but he continued down the hallways. Whatever happened after this would be his choice. 

Alastor paced the length of the hidden chambers that had been prepared with all their needs by Haashket, brimming with the trapped energy of being so close to having his heart's desire. Nafir had kept him informed of Pharaoh's movements, and he knew it could be any moment that Lucifer would arrive. 

When he had planned to seduce the little concubine, he had been so certain that a brief but passionate encounter would douse the flames of this inconvenient desire, but had been shocked with the realization that he had fallen in love with them instead. After days and weeks of teaching Lucifer, being near him, and listening to the bright laughter. A neat little trick the gods had pulled on him! What a joke! That what had started as a flash of desire had grown to an obsession that consumed him! 

When Lucifer had told him earlier that they couldn't be lovers, he had wrestled with the disappointment only to come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter if they rolled in the sheets or not. Just having Lucifer willing to fold himself into Alastor's embrace and remain there of his own free will was the fulfillment of his wish. 

But oh! How his blood sang when the sweet lamb offered a solution! And a cunning one, at that! His orders for Haashket to get the chambers ready had been swiftly obeyed, and now all he had to do was wait. 

The door opened, and Haashket appeared with a small bow. “He's here, Master.” 

Then the servant stepped aside and standing there was the foreign slave that had captured Alastor's heart. The moment their eyes caught, the flame returned. Alastor's arms opened and were immediately filled by the softest of flesh and the most delightfully sweet lips were against his own. Moans were exchanged instead of greetings. Nothing else needed to be said. 

“My heart… my sunshine… my life…” 

Alastor picked Lucifer up and carried him to the nearby bed, sitting on the edge with Lucifer in his lap, their chests pressed tightly together as they kissed. Neither of them noticed the departure of the lesser priest, or registered the closing of the door. They were too focused on each other. 

Lucifer had removed all the jewelry and beauty products for bed, and had wiped his skin clean of any oils. This way there was less risk of leaving any suspicious marks, and there was no kohl to smudge. That ended up being a good thing, as Alastor's kisses were so gentle, so reverent, that Lucifer couldn't hold back the tears if he wanted to. 

Only the collar remained, which Alastor pushed aside as needed to lick at the sensitive throat, drinking in the gasps and squeals that Lucifer made. It was everything he had desired and spilled blood for, and he would make a fresh offering to Apophis to show his gratitude.

At last, Alastor was able to indulge in his fantasy of worshipping the alabaster skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to every slender curve, panting against the warm flesh, and tasting the salt of their sweat with his tongue. He wanted to sink his teeth into the muscles and leave his marks, but was warned not to. Very well, he would just have to leave his idol wanting. 

Their skirts and loincloths were removed with eager fingers, until they were skin to skin. 

“Tell me what you like,” Alastor murmured, grabbing the soft ass that hovered on his lap, kneading it with full abandon now. “Let these nights be about your desires. You are my sun, and I am your devoted priest.”

Lucifer's moan intensified, his cock full and twitching against Alastor's stomach. He might not be as impressive as the Egyptian, but he liked the way their skin tones contrasted. 

“That… won't be difficult,” Lucifer huffed in amusement. “Just cherish me… make me forget how far away from home I am.”

“As you wish,” Alastor murmured, twisting them both to lay Lucifer against the cushions. “Let me cradle you the way Geb longs for his wife, Nut.”

The touch of fingers on his inner thigh made Lucifer's back arch. “Ah! I'm not- not sure I- know those gods… wait… isn't Nut the sky goddess?”

“Correct,” Alastor hummed while his lips grazed over the tender stomach. “Geb is the Earth god. They are kept apart by Shu, the god of air. Much like you and I are separated…” 

Lucifer grabbed a fistful of braids and pushed Alastor's head towards his cock. “Stop giving lessons and just fuck me! Please!” 

The desperation made Alastor chuckle before he took mercy on his prize and swiped his tongue around the flushed red cock, tasting the salty liquid and becoming instantly addicted. He took the top half of the member into his mouth and sucked, his ears ringing with the delightful sounds of Lucifer's moans. 

Unfortunately, it was a slow type of torture for himself. Every breathless moan and gasp tightened the grip that lust had on his middle. Lucifer was unraveling so beautifully beneath him, a feast for him to devour. 

He was ravenous for more. 

Releasing the cock from his mouth with a little pop , Alastor rose to his knees and scooped Lucifer's legs to the side, bending him at the waist to get a look at the sensitive pink hole between the cheeks. Lucifer squeaked with sudden shyness and covered his blushing face. 

“None of that, now,” Alastor grinned, kissing the nearest delicate ankle. “I want to see all of you.” 

The first touch to Lucifer's entrance made the muscles clench involuntarily. Alastor frowned. 

“Are you tender? I can give us pleasure a different way-”

Hastily, Lucifer shook his head in denial. “No no, it's fine! I'm a little nervous, that's all. You are… well, you're bigger than the wooden cocks.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, my heart,” Alastor grinned, reaching for the clay vial that held a mild oil with no scent. He decided to pour a generous amount and work the oil into the skin with his thumbs. He did not wish to spoil his prize the first night. 

His method was appreciated by Lucifer, who was too proud to admit that he was a little bit sore from earlier. The gentle way that Alastor slid his well oiled fingers inside helped him relax, his eyes fluttering shut as he allowed himself to lie back and enjoy the sensations. It felt nice to have such a considerate lover. Not that Lilith wasn't, but their sessions were focused on her needs and not his own. 

Stop thinking of her while you're in the arms of another man , Lucifer chided himself. 

Reaching for the dark face, Lucifer pulled Alastor into a needy kiss, moaning into their mouth as they stretched him properly. Lucifer knew the moment he was ready, and he reached between them to guide Alastor's cock to his hole. 

“Take me home, Alastor,” Lucifer moaned. “Make me forget everything but you.” 

How could Alastor deny such a tender request? Truly, he knew that he was helpless to deny the concubine anything at this point. Lucifer could demand that he jump off the roof of the palace and into the Nile and he would comply. 

They both groaned when their bodies were joined, the oil helping to make it effortless. There was no discomfort at all, and Lucifer clung to Alastor's shoulders and encouraged him to move. 

Every thrust hit just right . Lucifer knew he was spoiled now, and would never be able to enjoy the wooden toys as much as the real thing. He felt so full , and not just from the thickness inside him. The love and affection he felt for Alastor was a song inside his chest, clambering at his ribs to be released. Of course he had to contain the most exuberant of noises, but the groans and whimpers felt more natural, the heat in his core licking at his insides with every kiss and murmured curse in a language he had not been taught yet. 

There was a brief moment of panic when a hard thrust hit a spot inside that he didn't know existed, and Lucifer gasped, arching viciously as he scrambled to make sense of what had happened. 

“Oh fuck ! Do that again! But-but- Alastor… you can't spill inside me… you can't… they will know…” 

Alastor's hands tightened on Lucifer's thighs. “Worry not, my heart. I will watch as you fall, then see to my own release. Now breathe for me, and let me show you the sky…” 

It was foolish of him, but Lucifer found himself trusting Alastor to be cautious. Then his world exploded with pleasure as Alastor's thrusts kept pounding on the deep spot within that made Lucifer seize a pillow and bite it to keep from howling. His muffled voice still managed to creep through. 

“ Gods ! Alastor! I can’t take- much more-! I'm going to- AAHH !” 

Ropes of white cum splashed to the alabaster skin, nearly as high as his throat. Lucifer shook and thrashed in the throes of a powerful orgasm, reaching a height he had never known before. He was unaware of the moment that Alastor retreated, his hole clenching around air to the sudden emptiness. He managed to open his eyes just a crack in time to watch as Alastor used his hand to bring himself to a glorious finish, his seed joining Lucifer's and mixing on his smooth skin. 

Fresh desire sprouted at the sight, warmed by the knowledge that Alastor had listened to his request to pull out. He reached up and pulled the priest down, settling the comfortable weight on top and holding the man as they panted against his shoulder. 

“So that is what it is like,” Lucifer murmured happily, hooking a leg around Alastor's waist to stabilize him. His fingers caressed the dark head, playing with the gold beads to make them clink musically against each other. “I may need to send you a message as soon as possible.” 

The soft chuckles against his skin made goosebumps skitter over his arms. 

“Whenever you call for me, my heart… I will answer.”

Lucifer burrowed into the chest and sighed happily. “I believe you. Hold me for an hour, and then I have to go back.”

It was the best hour since he had been stolen from his home. 

 

1920's Luxor

 

The dream faded, but the sensation lingered, creating confusion for a brain that remembered the touches and the ache between the legs, so real in the dream that the body could have sworn it happened only moments before. 

A sleepy groan broke from Lucifer's dry lips. Hands roamed over the loose bathrobe, then underneath, touching the inner thighs that had been kissed, the fingers encountering a slick coat at the apex. Half of his consciousness struggled to wake up and take over, while the other half wanted to sink back into the wonderful dream and continue getting railed. 

It had been so long since Lucifer had been worked up like this. Self exploration could only go so far, and he didn't trust anyone to know the truth about his body, so he had remained a virgin until he was old enough to be considered an ‘old maid’ if he had remained outwardly feminine. Such moods only struck now and then, and usually Lucifer could ignore it until the fires cooled under the weight of scholarly pursuit. 

Except tonight the fires had been kindled by memories that he was uncertain were his, but felt authentic. His inner walls clenched at the memory of being stretched to the limits by a thick cock, his pussy slick enough by now to provide as much lube as needed. 

Gods below, he was hot !

Lucifer twisted out of the robe, kicking it to the floor. That felt slightly better as the cool hotel air was allowed to caress his skin. With a whimper, he rolled to his knees and lifted his hips, his fingers sliding across the folds to his cunt without direction or certainty of how to fulfill his needs. He cracked an eye open and glanced at the lattice work window, seeing the sun was high in the sky. He could figure this out before the evening, when they would need to head back to the Valley. 

Except he couldn't. The frustration grew, along with the ache, as he touched himself without any solid relief. He just didn't know what the fuck he was doing!

Then it occurred to him that someone would know what to do. 

“Whenever you call for me, my heart… I will answer.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Alastor,” he whimpered so softly he could barely hear himself. A spike of hot desire flashed through his veins as images of dark brown eyes and braids filled his mind. His fingers discovered that the nub at the top of his cunt was extra sensitive, and liked it when he rubbed lazy circles around it. 

Still, it was not enough. 

Frustrated at the lack of relief, Lucifer clenched his teeth and spoke louder. 

“Alastor!” 

The floor boards trembled. The lattice window shutter rattled. There was a breeze from nowhere, and then the scent of sandalwood and desert rose filled the room. 

“Oh… beloved .” 

Lucifer gasped and shoved his burning face into the pillow. It was too late to realize what state he was in, or to change anything to make himself more respectable. He was hot, needy, and exposed. His ass on full display, his legs wide and trembling with nowhere for his soaked cunt to hide. 

And yet… the sound of Alastor's voice made him relax. As if he was safe. 

Lucifer dared to peek a single eye in their direction. Alastor was a vision in black robes, his pupils blown wide to take in the sight before him. His chest was already heaving with the effort of remaining in the middle of the room. 

“You… called me?” Alastor asked, bemused but not at all befuddled. 

The naked want on his face made Lucifer bold. He lifted onto his elbows and beckoned with one hand. 

“I don't know… what to do. I've never- never slept with anyone and- I dreamed about-”

Fuck. No. He shouldn't say it. 

It was too late. Alastor heard the unspoken and stepped forward, a fierce hunger in his eyes. “What did you dream about, my heart? Did you dream of palace walls and… midnight rendezvous?" 

Lucifer shivered as Alastor approached. Oh, what did it matter now? He might as well come clean since he was practically begging to be fucked. 

“There were… secret passages… and… a statue of Isis…” 

Alastor's breath hissed in surprise. “The first time we spoke of our love? You remembered?”

Lucifer whimpered and rocked back on his knees. “I don't- don't know, but… I feel so empty now and… will you help me?” 

“ Beloved ,” Alastor rumbled, and finally- finally! - his hands were caressing Lucifer's thighs, traveling up the spine and down again. “You are more beautiful than the rising sun… the treasure of Egypt! It would be my delight and honor to assist you.” 

Lucifer dropped his head to the pillow again, grateful that they did not drag it out. There wasn't even a hint of mockery for the strangeness of his body, and how it did not fit the way he presented himself. “I am… sorry if- if I am not what you expected…”

Reverent kisses to his shoulder blades made Lucifer tremble. They were exactly the same as they had been in the dream. 

“Never apologize, my heart,” Alastor's thick voice responded. “The vessel may be different, but the soul is the same. I will love you no matter what form you take.” 

More heat coursed through Lucifer's veins as he realized Alastor sounded like that at the mere sight of him. It pooled in his gut like magma and made his cunt ache. He wasn't sure if he was ready to believe just yet, but he had craved this kind of validation for so long that he couldn't force it to stop. To be seen and yet acknowledged for his true self was a stronger emotion than he was able to face at the moment. Better shelve it for after.

“What- what do you want me to do?” He asked with a sliver of uncertainty. “Should I lie on my back or- turn around to face you-?” 

“Stay right there, beloved,” Alastor answered. “Spread those knees a little wider. Ah yes… perfect.” 

Lucifer had vague ideas of what to expect, but he did not anticipate the sight of Alastor's head to shuffle between his thighs, just beneath where the curly hair on his mound rested. They must be lying on their back to achieve such an angle. 

“How are you supposed to fuck me like- OH! ” 

Lucifer's entire body jolted as a scorching hot tongue licked the length of his folds, the tip swirling around the nub before departing to gauge the effect. It was not at all what Lucifer had been told about. 

“Fuck! Ah! D-do that- do that again!” He gasped, glancing down to see the amused twinkle in the dark eyes. Bastard. Lucifer would have said something else if that tongue didn't have him clutching at the sheets and moaning like a whore. 

Lucifer couldn't say how long that tongue tortured him. He was eager for more, begging for it, resting his hands on the bed post so he could lift onto his knees and rock his hips. Alastor's grip on his thighs kept him firmly seated on their face, moving with him, never letting him pull away. It was bliss to chase the pleasure, trembling with the tension of a wind up clock that ticked closer and closer to the pinnacle. 

His lungs were on fire. He was sure he would drown. The tension in his middle squeezed, then snapped . 

“Alastor!” He sobbed as each shuddering wave of pleasure left him weaker than before. At last his lungs panted for air, and his muscles turned to water. He wanted to lie down. 

As if to answer his silent request, Alastor wiggled out from his thighs and gently assisted, lying Lucifer on the pillows with soft murmurs. 

“You did so well, my heart. You are more stunning now than when I knew you before. Every second in the dark was worth the agony just to see you like this again.” 

Thoughts and emotions scrambled, Lucifer reached for the man and tugged them down until their weight was anchoring him to the earth. He tipped his head up, drunk and greedy.

“Kiss me?” 

“For eternity, if I could.” 

Warm lips settled over his own, stirring the parts of his memories that remained behind a barrier that was so strong it was already causing him to doubt the dreams. Lucifer firmly ignored those doubts. He could think about them later. For now, he was more content than he ever imagined he would be. 

Finally his eyes opened to survey the face so close to his own. Alastor's lashes curled in a delicate way, and his lips were dark and glistened with Lucifer's juices. 

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Lucifer heard himself ask. 

“Didn't I?” Alastor asked, sounding amused. 

“I meant- you know… with your- in my-”

“That's not what you asked for,” Alastor replied patiently. “You asked for ‘help’. Tasting you again is like drinking spring water after a ten day fast in the desert.” 

Lucifer flushed at the praise. “I- I see. I didn't even know that it was possible. But what about you? Should I- reciprocate?” 

He couldn't help but glance between their bodies towards Alastor's groin. Though he saw nothing beneath their robes to make him suspect the man was aroused, his cunt pulsed with the false memory of what it felt like to be filled. 

Lucifer's face was tilted back up. Alastor kissed him slow and tenderly, until Lucifer was a melted puddle in their arms. 

“Now that I have you again… I shall take my time and love you properly. All the ways I couldn't before. I do not have to share you with anyone this time. You are mine completely!”

Lucifer huffed, a small piece of him resisting any claim over him. The rest of him beat up that small piece and kicked it to a remote corner. 

Finally , his mind whispered. Someone wants me . 

“Thank you,” Lucifer murmured, his eyes fluttering closed on the verge of sleep. “I do want… to be closer. You don't think I am strange or… disgusting. Stay here?” 

Alastor's arms pulled him close. Lucifer couldn't ask for a more comfortable pillow. The same lullaby that they had sung before caressed him to sleep. 

“I will always be by your side, beloved .”

Chapter 10: Labor and Lovemaking

Summary:

Lucifer has questions about his worth. Alastor reassures him.

Notes:

smaller chapter, but it is the second half of the interlude and then we get back into the plotting of the plot

It was nearing sunset when Lucifer woke up from his dozing. His first thought was how comfortable he was, so relaxed and satiated that he resented the fact that he had to get up to find the dried out husk of a dead tart from thousands of years ago. Then he quietly apologized to Irimaet and promised never to speak badly of her again if she would just let him find her. 

The second thought was how to convince Alastor to fuck him for real. 

It shouldn't be too difficult. He was already naked, after all, the only thing covering his modesty was Alastor's arms, draped lightly over him to provide comfort, but not to bind. Without opening his eyes, Lucifer took note of how they rested together, with his back to Alastor's chest, tucked into the taller man's arms like a rabbit in its den. 

Then he realized how his ass fit neatly into Alastor's groin. Oh yes, this might be easier than he realized. Maybe if he pushed his ass backwards…

“If you want my attention, all you have to do is open your eyes.” 

Not realizing Alastor was awake already, Lucifer squeaked and stopped wiggling his hips. 

“A-Alastor! Aha! Y-you’re awake? Did you sleep at all?”

The low chuckle in his ear made Lucifer clench his thighs. 

“I do not sleep… I cannot. I would rather watch you breathe and count your heartbeats, thanking every god and goddess who will listen that I have you in my arms again.” 

Interested, Lucifer shifted and turned about so he could face Alastor, the fires of his desire banking enough to make inquiries. 

“You can't sleep? Why not? Is it because your body is technically dead? What else can't you do? I've seen you drink, but now that I think about it I haven't seen any of you eat anything-”

Alastor stopped the tirade with a light kiss. “This body relies on Ka to function. The curse denied my entrance across the River to the Underworld, so it is the only vessel I can inhabit. It is the same with Husk and Nifty, though they have only returned because of my control on their souls. If I wish to return to a mortal life again, I must seek out any sacred text that has survived and determine a way.”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. “Of course… yes. It's not like mummies come back to life every day, there are no instruction manuals. What about the Book of the Dead?” 

“I know that text by heart,” Alastor said, brushing his knuckles oh so tenderly over Lucifer's skin. “It is the guide on how to enter the Underworld. Not how to remain alive.” 

“Still, maybe something it says could give you a clue on how to restore the body.”

Alastor grunted softly, lost in his own thoughts. A strange feeling tickled the back of Lucifer's memories. 

“Say… Alastor?”

“Hmm?” 

“If- if I am the same person as your lover. Let's just pretend for a second that I am.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, but made no objections.

“Why- why wasn't my soul trapped in a sarcophagus? Or would a slave be too unimportant to mummify in the first place?” 

Alastor rose up to an elbow, his gaze intense. “Oh no! You have it wrong, mry ! You are very important! You were Pharaoh's favorite ! Her- what modern word best describes it? Her companion ! She stated many times that if you had been a woman, and she a man, you would have been the queen of Egypt! She instructed the builders of her tomb to carve you alongside her on the walls, as if you were her Isis!”

Lucifer's eyes widened, trying to imagine his own face on the walls of a tomb. “I- but I- surely a slave -”

“You have a different understanding of that word,” Alastor huffed with a brush of his hand through the air. “Slaves are still people . It is an indication of your labor status, not your worth! Irimaet ordered your sarcophagus to be prepared for when you died so you could rest inside her tomb with her! You will see it when we open the shrine.”

Lucifer had never considered that possibility. He had been focused on finding the long lost Pharaoh, not the body of a concubine. 

“Well… then my first question is still unanswered. Why didn't they curse me the same way that you were cursed?”

Alastor's brows drew together in consideration. “When we were- when Pharaoh made her declaration… for the crimes that were committed… she wasn't the one who ordered the curse.”

Lucifer blinked. “Oh? Then… who did?” 

Alastor's lips pressed into a stubborn line. “I cannot say. It happened after I drank the poison.”

“You were… poisoned ?” Lucifer gasped, horrified.

“It was mercy,” Alastor said dryly. “Anyone else would have been given a slow and agonizing death for their crime against Pharaoh. I was the High Priest of Amun-Ra, and was allowed some dignity.”

That made sense. Even so, Lucifer pressed himself closer to the warm body, amazed that it felt the same as any other. 

“I'm so sorry you had to go through that,” he murmured. “All of it. Even for your crimes, that was the worst thing they could have done.” 

Their weight shifted, and Lucifer was on his back, being attacked with kisses that left him breathless. 

“My sunshine… nedjem … my beloved…” Alastor was unrelenting with his attention. So much so that Lucifer laughed.

“If you were poisoned, then how did I-?” 

A sharp stab of pain in Lucifer's head made him flinch, clutching at his skull until the pain receded a minute later and he could think again. When he was able to focus again, he noticed how concerned Alastor looked, and the soft prayers he was muttering. 

“I'm fine, I promise,” Lucifer reassured him. “I think- I better not ask certain questions.”

More soft kisses on his brow and temple helped him relax. He could get used to being treated this way. Precious and treasured. 

“The others will be… waiting for us…” Lucifer tipped his head back to the pillows to allow for those lips to roam down to his throat. The coals of his desire began to burn hot again. 

“Let them wait,” Alastor replied. 

Since their fingers were busy sliding between Lucifer's thighs, Lucifer didn't bother to argue. 

“Oh… it was nice when you- when you used your tongue… aaahh… but this time, I want all of you.” 

Alastor's dark robes were banished with a flick of his wrist. He didn't even pause in his perusal of Lucifer's skin. 

“I am yours to command, efik-ima . My beloved…” 

It finally occurred to Lucifer that the strange pressure in his ears only happened when he was certain that Alastor was speaking Egyptian, though he had no problem understanding what they said. He had no time to continue that thought, however, when the press of fingers inside his cunt scrambled whatever focus he had. 

“Fuck… that's… so good,” Lucifer breathed, rolling his hips and canting them up. “I used to… hate it… I never felt like- a proper woman- ah! But when you touch me, I- I don't hate it.” 

“Hate this ?” Alastor curled his fingers, gently working them in and out of Lucifer's gorgeous body. “Oh… nefer… you have no idea how stunning you are! This fertile valley gave birth to civilization!” 

Choking with cracked laughter, Lucifer hastily shoved a hand over Alastor's mouth. “ Please don't refer to my sex as a ‘fertile valley’ ever again! For the love of god!” 

Alastor's grin stretched and became playful. “Shall I call it my honey covered fig instead?”

“God, no! That's even worse!” 

Lucifer had never considered it possible to laugh during sex, and yet the playfulness kept him relaxed and eager, keeping the old demons at bay who wanted him to curl up in the sheets and hide his body from the world. 

It was effortless the way he went from laughing at Alastor's jokes to rolling his eyes and moaning as the thick cock finally entered him, stretching him in a delicious way that was more of an ache than any pain. The same feeling he had in his dream. 

He couldn't say how long it lasted, only that he never wanted it to end. 

In all his life of feeling wrong , this finally felt right. To be surrounded by the heat of gentle arms, and caressed by adoring lips full of his praise was better than the life of solitude that Lucifer had resigned himself to. 

It didn't matter if he was or wasn't a slave in his past life. It didn't matter that he was different. Here in Alastor's arms, Lucifer could say that he had found where he belonged. 

 

~~~~

 

They were terribly late in joining the others in the hotel lobby, dressed for work and the cold desert night. Adam ranted about what he would rather be doing with the busty dancing women who entertained the tourists, but everyone ignored him and set out for the Valley. 

It took five days to clear the rubble on the side of the cliff, working through the dark hours of the night beneath the tent to hide their activities. Adam grumbled, Husk grumbled louder and Lute rolled her eyes at the both of them. Surprisingly, Adam pulled his weight and worked just as hard as the others did, knowing his boss would be very happy when he delivered a fresh mummy of a mythical Pharaoh. 

They excavated the tomb by night, and slept by day in the city hotel. 

Well, the others slept. Lucifer and Alastor discovered there were many pleasant ways to spend the time. 

Lucifer didn't need to dream about the priest's cock any longer. Not after he experienced the real thing stuffed into his eager cunt, clinging to Alastor's shoulder while they panted in his ear, his nails digging into the bronzed skin without regard for gentleness. His hips hurt afterwards from the extreme angles, but it was worth every second of white knuckled pleasure. 

It felt like for every day that Lucifer had hated his body since he was young and realized it was wrong , Alastor was determined to make up for it. He didn't just admire Lucifer's form, he worshiped it with lips and bites and smooth caresses, muttering in an ancient tongue of poetry that no one alive has ever heard before. 

It drove Lucifer wild. 

While he had learned to cover his breasts and bind them to hide, Alastor spent hours playing with the pert nipples, watching the sensitive nubs harden anytime he traced patterns on Lucifer's skin. They weren't feminine or ugly, and as Nifty would say, they were pretty when being gently squeezed. It didn't seem to matter at all what Lucifer was supposed to be, as Alastor took delight in showing him how the body served the soul, and not the other way around. 

Of course Lucifer slept, tired from the manual labor at night and after getting fucked into the hotel mattress. For those couple of days, Lucifer slept so deeply he didn't dream at all. That was a nice change, and if he was forced to be honest when no one was looking, he would reluctantly whisper that waking up next to someone was even better than the sex. 

If Adam noticed anything had changed between Lucifer and Alastor, his only response was to grit his teeth and knock the ash from his cigar. Lucifer was thankful for the silence, even more grateful that he had managed to find the one American who didn't blink at the unspoken attraction between two men. Of course Adam knew nothing of Lucifer’s true gender, but that was between him and Alastor. 

Lute may wrinkle her nose at them, but she said nothing. 

It was a surprisingly peaceful interlude that shoved the insistent voices to the back of Lucifer’s mind that he needed to hurry up and open Irimaet’s resting place. He woke up in Alastor’s arms and fell asleep in them again, trying to hold onto the feeling of being well looked after before he had to face the reality that it may not be his for long.

He told Alastor what it was like growing up in Sweden and studying in Britain. He listened to the descriptions of Alastor going to scribe school. Even thousands of years apart, and they had many commonalities to bring them together.

After 5 days of labor and love making, they broke through the doorway, and into Irimaet's tomb.

Chapter 11: Bait and Switch

Summary:

After thousands of years the tomb is opened. Will Lucifer finally find the mummy he has been searching for?

Notes:

AS ALWAYS!!! THANK YOU NATT FOR YOUR EXPERTISE!! MWAH LOVES AND KISSES!

Enjoy this double update, my lovelies!

“Is that-?”

“Carefully…”

“Almost there-”

“Watch it! You wanna bring the entire fucking cliff down around our heads?”

“Speak to me thus again and I shall carve the Eye of Horus onto your back.”

“You insane motherfucker-”

“Shut up! I can see the chamber inside!” 

Lucifer’s fingers grabbed at the crumbling wall of ancient concrete and broke it apart, piece by piece, barehanded in his eagerness to get inside. They had cleared the top half of the doorway just after midnight, and the only thing holding Lucifer back now was the thick arm around his waist that kept him away from the stale air that could kill him. 

“Let go of me, Alastor!” He resisted. “I must see!” 

“Let us widen the entrance that we have made so we can all fit in there and the air can circulate,” Alastor replied, tugging the smaller man down the smaller pile of rubble that remained after their week long labor. “It will go faster if you let Husk and the others do it without hindrance.”

Adam grumbled as he attacked the flat rock face that stood out from the cliffside now that the rubble was cleared. “Yeah, sure, just make me do all the work! Can’t get a good drink in between-”

“Your wine tastes like shit!” Husk grunted with each swing of his pick. “I’ve had better beer made from barley and piss!” 

“Hey! That is premium American whiskey you are shitting on!”

No sooner than when the hole was big enough for a small person to crawl through and Lucifer broke free from Alastor's arms and became the first person to step inside the entrance chamber in thousands of years. He felt light headed and dizzy, but not from the air, it was from the excitement and exhilaration of being so close to his goals!

Unseen specters called. Voices in the dark beckoning. Begging to be found. 

Lucifer couldn't hear the living. Only the dead. 

He stepped forward into the pitch darkness, then an arm on his shoulder arrested his progress. 

“Patience, efik-ima ,” Alastor murmured. “We must light the way or risk stumbling into burial offerings. Let us light the lanterns first, at least.”

Lucifer was quivering with the need to explore, but he nodded at the sensible suggestion. “I can feel it, Alastor! There's a coffin back there! I need to find the inner chamber!” 

“Let me guide you,” Alastor replied. “It will be easier than stumbling about on your own.” 

Lucifer felt more than heard the command that was given to Husk, and then glass panel lanterns were lit and placed on either side of the doorway. The old priest led the way from the entrance to the main chambers and placed more lanterns on the floor, then handed one to each person. 

“You sure this is a tomb?” Adam asked, raising his light and turning in a circle. “There's barely anything here! Carpenter found literal piles of gold!” 

“No he didn't,” Lucifer scoffed with derision. “He found gold artifacts , but most of the items were made of wood or pottery. The Egyptians buried every day items that their spirits could enjoy in the Afterlife. Beds, toys, bolts of cloth, also food and wine.”

“So why isn't any of that stuff here ?” Adam demanded, sounding like a disappointed toddler. There were artifacts and pottery in the corners, some of them broken, but nothing like the famous King Tut's tomb. “What gives?”

“Robbers,” Husk grumbled. “Sons of jackals who break in and steal the good stuff and leave the worthless. Either that, or the next Pharaoh took what was meant for Irimaet to make their own more grand.” 

“Bastards!” Lucifer's fists shook with rage. His eyes were filled with indignation that Irimaet would be left with nothing for her Afterlife. 

His feet turned down a side passage. “It doesn't matter! We aren't here for burial goods, or even gold, we are here for Lilith!” 

“Who is Lilith?” Lute asked, pausing in her examination of a painting of Thoth, god of wisdom. 

Adam shrugged, clueless himself. 

Lucifer was only a few steps down the passage when Alastor redirected him. “Not that way. It's a side chamber. We won't find the sarcophagus there.” 

He took Lucifer by the hand, and the young archeologist was grateful for the dark to hide his blush. 

“He knows all about the layout of tombs now?” Adam asked with derision as he followed the pair, leaving Husk and Lute in the main chamber. “Not just a linguist then, huh? Just what else does this El-Masry fella know?”

“He has studied Egypt for a long time!” Lucifer argued over his shoulder. 

“Then how come Mammon has never heard of him?” Adam challenged. 

“Mammon doesn't know everyone -” 

Lucifer stopped when Alastor held his light in front of a doorway, the handles wrapped with rotting rope that bore a wax seal. Lucifer's heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he was sure the others could hear it..

“That's the Necropolis seal!” He breathed. “That means the burial chambers are unopened! Right, Alastor? Al?” 

The face above him was thrown into dark shadow, but a deep hatred shone in the eyes like red hot coals. Alastor was tense, his hand clenching Lucifer's like a vice. It was a terrifying sight. 

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked, reaching up with concern. 

“That is not Irimaet,” Alastor said. 

Lucifer looked at the door properly, paying attention to the hieroglyphs and the painted image of the one who rested in the tomb. He stepped closer, muttering to himself. 

“You're… right. It's not. That's not her face, and- and that's not her name. But… who is it?” 

“Adhmose.” 

The name was crushed beneath a mountain of hatred. Lucifer shivered at the sensation of hands around his throat. 

“Who the fuck is that?” Adam asked. “You got the wrong fucking tomb? Hah! So you don't know everything , huh?” 

“Shut up, Adam,” Lucifer hissed, but it was more of a grumble. He was struggling against the current of disappointment. 

Turning to Alastor, he tugged on their arm. “What is- you said Adhmose? Wait, didn’t you say that was her half brother… What is he doing in Irimaet's tomb?”

Alastor tossed his head back and laughed. He shook with it, the sound muffled in the dead air and absorbed by the rock. 

“Of course he would!” Alastor laughed. “Of course that slithering eel of a man would take her throne, her tomb, and her victories! No wonder the temple was allowed to keep her image! He buried it and every other mention of her, and then took her resting place as his own!” 

Adam scratched at his rough chin. “Wait, was he Irimaet's successor?” 

“Successor, half-brother, and advisor when she ruled,” Alastor clarified. “They traditionally would have been married, but Irimaet seized power on her own and kept Adhmose by her side to appease his supporters instead of outright killing him. She outsmarted him at every move! Yet in death, he stole all of her glory and achievements!”

“Sounds like he had the last laugh,” Adam said without feeling. “But that means we still don't have Lucifer's mythical Pharoah.”

White hot rage poured through Lucifer's veins. “We don't know that yet.” 

He stepped forward and reached for the rope, taking care to break the corner so he wouldn't disturb the seal, and painstakingly removed it from the handles and placed it on the ground, out of the way. Then he pulled on the doors with all his might. 

“Help me!” Lucifer called. He meant it for Alastor, but Adam joined as well, grasping the opposite handle as they all pulled. 

Inch by painstaking inch, the doors opened, stone sliding on stone to allow passage into the burial chamber beyond. Lucifer slipped in first, casting the light of his lantern over the rectangular object within, hardly daring to breathe as he got close enough to locate and read the cartouche. 

“Adhmose,” he breathed. Then cursed. Again, but louder. The scratching under his skin was still not satisfied! 

“Not a bad looking guy,” Adam commented. “I bet he had a humongous harem! Haha!” 

Lucifer leaned against the coffin, covering the tears of frustration that threatened to spill. “I was so close… so close !” 

A hand on his shoulder was a comfort, and it took everything in Lucifer not to turn around and weep into the strong chest. 

“I am sorry, mry . This is the only location I was aware of.” 

Lucifer sniffed. “It's not your fault. You couldn't have known it was stolen because you were already-” He stopped himself just in time, remembering that Adam was in the room with them. “Anyway. We did find a pharaoh, so… Mammon will be pleased. I guess we just… keep looking. If anything! This proves that Irimaet is real! Adhmost might have taken her place in the histories, but we can learn so much about that time dynasty just by studying this tomb!” 

He patted Alastor's hand and offered a watery smile. “I'll be fine. We can look for clues to her true whereabouts later. After we register this site with the Egyptian government.”

Alastor nodded in agreement. “Adhmose might have taken this tomb because it was bigger than his own, which means he might have placed Irimaet in the one that had been built for himself.”

Lucifer inhaled sharply. “As in… he just swapped places with her?” 

“It is possible.” Alastor lifted his lantern to see the painted face of the sarcophagus. Dark eyes stared back at them over the ceremonial beard, the arms crossed over the chest and holding the crook and flail of office. “He must be laughing right now. Thousands of years later, and his final trick is known at last.”

Lucifer drew back, the hair on his arms sticking up. “I don't like the way he is looking at me. As if- as if he judges me.” 

Alastor was busy glaring at the sealed corpse. “As the new Pharaoh, it would have been Adhmose who cursed us. He would have been responsible for the Opening of the Eyes and Mouth ceremony.”

“But why? What did he have against you or- or against Irimaet's slave?”

From the shadows of the chambers behind them, a voice from beyond the grave spoke. 

“ You killed her… you betrayed your master ! ”

Lucifer spun just as big, calloused hands that smelled of tobacco grasped him by the throat and squeezed . 

Pain and oxygen deprivation collided with the shock of Adam's snarling face above his own as he sank to his knees, grasping at the hands that choked him. The American looked crazed, his hair sticking up in all directions. 

“You should be dead! Your soul wandering for eternity! Why are you alive?!”

Lucifer's blunt fingernails tried scratching at the wrists, but his vision was losing focus. There was screaming in his ears, but they sounded far away, thousands of years in the past, begging for his life to be spared. 

He couldn't die… he had to find…

… Lilith…

 

“I am sorry, Lucifer. I could not make you happy. I cannot change the law, but I can grant you an afterlife with the one you love.”

 

Who was speaking? Why did she sound so sad? 

Lucifer's body hit the ground as air rushed to inflate his lungs. He coughed and gasped, forced to live by mechanisms of his body that would not allow him to perish just yet. Questions rose sluggishly as Lucifer fought to regain consciousness. For a moment he thought he had seen a face, and heard a voice, but now he wanted to know what had stopped Adam from killing him.

It was obvious as to what broke Adam's grip. Alastor had the American in a chokehold, his height only a moderate advantage over Adam's bulk. The two struggled for the upper hand, but eventually Adam became still, and then started laughing. 

“ So… Akathor… It is you who disturbs my rest. Just how did you escape your coffin, hmm? Was it him? My sister's whore?” 

The pressure in Lucifer's ears made him realize that Adam was speaking Ancient Egyptian . What in blazes was going on? 

In reply, Alastor mocked Adam back. “You should be grateful, Adhmose. If it weren't for me, you would have remained forgotten by history. No one knew your name until now.”

Adam writhed with what seemed like rage. “You liar! I made sure my name was everywhere! They should have been telling stories about me for thousands of years!”

“But they weren't your stories, were they? Hmmm? You replaced Irimaet's name with your own. You never won a battle in your pathetic life!” 

“I could have!”

“And after you killed the Favored One and executed me, you decided that you would punish us more than the law demanded, is that so? Never did you think that I would return !”

Adam choked as Alastor's arms tightened around his neck. If something wasn't done, he would die.

“Wait! Alastor, stop!” Lucifer coughed around his injured throat and staggered to his feet. “You can't- you can't kill him! That's still Adam!”

“Not right now, he isn't,” Alastor grinned madly. “I told you he looked like Irimaet's advisor! His ba must have mistaken him for the khet ! This is Adhmose's soul, speaking through the other!”

Lucifer shook the confusion from his head and approached the pair, leveling a gaze on the possessed man. “Where is Adam? Can he hear me?”

The ancient man who wore Adam’s face spat with fury.

“I will drown you in the Nile this time, you piece of jackal dung- Argh!”

Alastor twisted Adam's arm viciously behind him in retribution for the insult. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes, realizing he would need to persuade this Adhmose to talk. He approached the sarcophagus and took out his pocket knife, tapping the blade against the top of it. 

“Look, Mr. Adhmose, I’m already cranky that I didn't find Irimaet's mummy, and while I don't have any affection for the man you are currently possessing, it would be a real pain in my arse if he died. But ! I happen to know exactly what will hurt you.”

He poised the knife over the cartouche and smiled innocently. “I know you believe that your face and name are necessary for your spirit to gain the Afterlife. I know what would happen if I scratched your name out, the same thing you did to Irimaet.”

The effect was instant. Adam's face drained of color, and he stopped fighting. He even grew limp in Alastor's grasp, his voice becoming whining and grating. 

“ Wait! You can't! I didn't mean it! I don't know how long it's been, but if there are no priests left to perform rituals then I could be-”

“Forgotten,” Lucifer nodded. “And cease to exist. Yup. I know. So I will ask again: what happened to Adam?” 

“He's sleeping. I think. I have never possessed anyone before. I know I am in control, but I can feel him.”

Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief. “So he's not dead. Great. Do you have access to any of his memories?” 

“No. I woke up when I heard voices, and someone said my name. Then I saw your face and-” he flinched slightly as Alastor jerked him roughly. “I saw a body that I thought was mine. So I took it.”

Lucifer scowled, deep in thought. “Release him, Alastor. He's not going to hurt me again.” 

It didn't look like Alastor wanted to obey. He would rather cut the man up into tiny pieces and feed him to the crocodiles. But he released Adam and shoved him against the wall, placing himself in front of Lucifer. Adam, or rather the one possessing him, rubbed at his neck and glared at them both. 

“How do you know I won't hurt you? I killed you before, and I can do it again!” 

He started to speak but then Lucifer reeled back, staggering and holding his head against the pain behind his eye. 

Screaming, begging, gasping, choking. 

 

Let his Akh search the heavens and earth for its body. Let it never know rest or peace, and never be reunited with the one he betrayed his master for!

 

That voice again. It sounded like Adam.

“Lucifer!” Alastor's arms encircled him, protective and comforting. “Breathe, mry ! Stay with me!” 

Lucifer leaned wearily against him, and shook the voices away. “You… you killed me? No… you killed the Favored One. I am… I am Lucifer Morningstar, not- not the one you said.” 

Adhmose lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “You cannot fool me. You released him , and you found this tomb. Your akh is the same. How you managed to possess a body, I do not know. Do you mean you don't remember?”

“Of course I don't! I was born in Sweden!” Lucifer countered. “I grew up! I had a mother and a father and- and I went to school! I know nothing about you!”

The ground rumbled with the force of Lucifer's shout. Or perhaps it was Alastor's grief that echoed the pain. 

Lucifer bent out of the way and retched. The confusion did not help when the earth was tilting beneath him. The bile burned his throat, but his stomach felt better after. Sighing with relief, he leaned against Alastor's solid chest. 

“I am going to tear him limb from limb!” Alastor promised darkly. “It is his fault you are in pain, and why I rotted alone in the dark! Executing us was enough to fulfill the law, but it did not satisfy his cruelty!” 

Adhmose shrugged. “I thought it fitting, considering what you both did. Irimaet would not rest in peace if her murderers were granted the Eternal.”

Lucifer shook his head. That felt wrong. Lilith didn't want to hurt him. She wanted him to be… happy. 

Why did he think that? 

“We can't… can't kill him while he possesses Adam's body,” Lucifer said. A thought occurred to him. “If you took Irimaet's tomb for your own, then what did you do with her mummy?” 

Adhmose all of a sudden thought that the writing on the wall was extremely interesting. “Ah… as to that… why should I tell you?” 

Lucifer's lips curled. “You will. Now that I know the truth, I can correct the history books and let everyone know that you were a liar, as well as a coward.”

“I shouldn't help you at all!” Adhmose snarled. “I gave my sister a proper burial, and I made sure her murderers were punished! I am only here because you somehow managed to break my curse!”

Pushing himself away from Alastor's support, Lucifer took a few steps towards Adhmose, every muscle of his smaller body ready to fight.

“I haven't broken anything yet ,” Lucifer huffed. “But I will break every painted and carven image of your face just like you did to Alastor's if you don't tell us where she rests! No, you will show us! You will take us to where she is buried, and then you will give Adam his body back!”

Adhmose cowered against the wall, realizing how powerless and outnumbered he was, now that he was no longer Pharaoh. 

“Ah… there is a small, tiny, miniscule problem.”

Lucifer's wrath flared, but he forced himself to breathe deeply. “What is it?” 

“I don't know how to return.”

Notes:

*laughs and twirls my villain mustache*

Chapter 12: Dangerous Waters

Summary:

A new plan is formed to find the real location of Irimaet's final resting place. If Lute doesn't kill everyone first.

Notes:

Hello DARLINGS!! Welcomes back! I absolutely fucking LOVED the reactions to Adam being possessed, I was kicking my feet and everything. I am so glad everyone is enjoying this fic!

Lute tapped her foot impatiently, her muscled arms crossed over her chest as she glared from person to person in the tent outside of the tomb's entrance. Lucifer withered under her stone cold gaze while Alastor looked completely at ease. The tension made Husk take a drink from a bottle he had stashed in his robes, and Adam, or rather, Adhmose, sulked on the ground with his hands tied in front of him. 

“Let me get this straight,” Lute said with false patience. “These two were dead for thousands of years, but because of some ‘curse’ they are alive again.” She pointed at Alastor and Husk. 

“Don't forget Nifty,” Husk said. 

“Right, right. The one eyed crazy girl. You-” she jabbed her finger in Lucifer's direction- “knew this all along since you pulled that disappearing act in the temple, and you didn't say shit when those workers turned up dead.” 

Lucifer cringed with guilt. “Would you have believed me?” 

“Shut up, it's my turn to talk. Now my boss is possessed by the spirit of some dead king and he doesn't know how to go back to being dead?!” 

Sensing he was being spoken about, Adhmose lifted his gaze and sniffed with distaste. “This woman is far too manly to be a part of my harem. I had only the slimmest and prettiest of concubines.” 

“I can't take him back to America talking like that!” Lute protested. “What the fuck are we going to do about Adam?!”

Lucifer held up his hands to appease her. “Look, I don't have all the answers, but I am trying to figure this out! All this time I have been searching for Pharaoh Irimaet, and she should have been buried here. Instead, her successor, this guy, moved her to a different location. He is going to take us there, and then- and then-”

“And then what?!” Lute demanded. “Will she possess me this time?” 

Adhmose cackled. “She looks nothing like Irimaet, her ba will never be confused.”

“Make him shut up!” Lute ground her teeth. “That- language! Coming from Adam's mouth is driving me up the damn wall!” 

Alastor sighed and bent over the tied man. “I can help with that. It will cost me some ka, but we can't have him acting like this around others.”

“Just what are you going to- aahh!!”

Alastor gripped the dark brown hair and painfully pulled their head back, tilting their face up and grasping their jaw to hold their mouth open. Alastor breathed out, and a thin wisp of vapor passed from the priest to the American. It lasted only a moment, and then he released the hair and shoved Adhmose to the sand, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

“There. Now he can speak the modern tongue. Ungrateful wretch.” 

Despite knowing it wasn't Adam, Lute still rushed to his side and helped him sit up, glaring at Alastor for the mistreatment. “You've got a lot of nerve!” 

Adhmose laid his head against Lute's chest and sighed happily. “I changed my mind. She is most welcome in my harem.” 

Lute dropped him like a hot coal. “Just because you're a king possessing my boss doesn't mean I won't kick your ass! I've punched Adam for less!” 

“I guess they are more similar than just looks,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Womanizers, both of them.”

"That's not helping!" Lute snarled. 

"I know, I know! Sorry," Lucifer shuffled his feet. "We don't know how to get Adam back yet, but that doesn't mean we won't figure it out. In the meantime let's regroup at the hotel and Adhmose can tell us where he buried Irimaet. I'm sure we will find answers if we keep digging. So to speak."

They decided it was best to leave Husk to hide the entrance of the tomb until they were ready to fully excavate it while they headed back to the hotel. As it turned out, having Lute was essential for getting Adhmose to cooperate with anything. It seemed nothing was good enough for the particular spirit, who complained about anything and everything that was new and modern, including the hotel and any food they were served. However, Lute was experienced with bullying Adam, and she used the same techniques for Adhmose until he practically begged the others to get her away from him. 

When they were gathered in Lucifer's rooms with maps spread over all the surfaces, getting the location of Irimaet's tomb was harder than wrestling a lion. Adhmose gave up the location of the Ipet-isut, or the temple complex for Pharaohs, but then Alastor had to find it on the modern map. The complex was not one that Lucifer was familiar with, and was thrilled with the prospect of new temples to find, watching Alastor with keen interest. 

Alastor sneered with derision. The temples were meant to be a place to bring tribute and worship the Pharaohs that had come before, but they were too public to be used as burial chambers. Adhmose apparently repurposed Irimaet's temple without telling anyone but the architects. 

It was flagrant disrespect, and a way to steal Irimaet's tomb for himself, but in the wake of her death no one had attempted to stop him. He simply relocated her sarcophagus after the temple chambers were complete. 

It took so long with cross referencing all of the landmarks that Alastor was familiar with and the modern landscape that Adhmose had fallen asleep on the chair, his head tipped back and his snores loud and obnoxious. Lucifer himself was dozing on the table, a spot of drool soaking into the Nile estuaries. 

He was roused by warm hands that slid around his waist and gingerly picked him up. 

“M’not sleeping…” he protested with his eyes closed. “M'not.”

“Of course not, ketet.”

“Found another amber bead… in my shoe… how'd it get there?” 

“I- I am not sure, nefer.” 

The pillow was so soft…

He twisted and grabbed onto the solid body. 

“Stay.”

“Beloved… I must hunt to replace the ka I had given to-”

“Later. Stay now.”

A soft sigh and rustle of cloth later and Lucifer was wrapped around the priest like an octopus, drifting on a slumbering sea. It reminded him of the deck of a boat, cruising down the Nile. 

“-astor…” Lucifer mumbled. “Not… your fault… were caught… I was… careless… said your name… with Lilith…”

Alastor was so shocked that he rose to an elbow. “What- what do you mean? Did you- Do you remember? Lucifer?” 

It was no use. Lucifer was asleep. 

Agony made Alastor's face twist and his heart race with the familiar panic of being alone in the dark. In the moments between sleep and awake, Lucifer had remembered something! 

He curled around his beloved, pressing his face into the soft, blonde hair. It was the same as in his memories, though the scent was nothing like the perfumed oils of Egypt. 

Alastor forced himself to breathe. To stop and feel the air around his renewed body. He couldn't let the panic overtake him. He was no longer trapped in the coffin, wrapped in cloth and unable to move. He could wiggle his feet and toes, and could run his hands over the slight curve of the body against him. 

Lucifer tied him to life, to this world. He was the light, the sound, and the laughter. Everything and more after thousands of years without. 

Confronting Adhmose in the tomb was not what Alastor had expected, yet it was a relief to be able to identify and face his tormenter, and rebuke him. A knot the size of the Mediterranean Sea unraveled in his middle at discovering that it was not Irimaet who had cursed him. She couldn't have, since she had died before he did. 

Alastor had killed her, after all. 

The familiar anguish and guilt rose into his throat. He wanted to rush out to the empty desert and release a pent up scream for the loss. But he couldn't, not yet, not while he held his sleeping beloved. Screaming had been his only outlet for years after the crushing silence was too much to bear. 

For now he allowed himself to watch the shadows dance over Lucifer's relaxed features, and remember a time when he had been willing to risk it all to take them far, far away from Egypt…

 

The New Kingdom

The Beautiful Festival of the Valley

 

It had been difficult to find a time when he could meet with Lucifer during the festival proceedings, but Alastor had waited for the opportunity to send Nafir with a message to the concubine, and the location of a festival carriage decorated with flowers and small, carven statues of various gods. The waiting was the worst part, and while Alastor knew his presence would not be remarked upon, as he could claim he was inspecting it, Lucifer's would be. So he must be patient while Lucifer slipped through the guards and made his way to the meeting location.

The carriage curtain was pushed to one side, and a small figure in a light green hooded cape slipped inside. 

“Alastor!” Lucifer cried, immediately sliding into the priest's arms. 

For a long, drawn out moment, the only thing they could do was kiss and moan longingly into each other's mouths. It was the middle of the day, and too dangerous for a prolonged encounter, but staying apart for too long caused them both to suffer. 

“Haashket said… you had something you wanted to tell me…” 

“Only that-” kisses to the soft neck and jaw- “the sun is dark without you-” more kisses to the cheeks and mouth- “and every second I long… to have you in my arms again.”

He hadn't meant to make Lucifer feel bad, but the crestfallen look made him redouble the kisses. 

“I’m sorry- it's so hard to slip away when we are not in the palace and I am… unfamiliar with the temples. I miss you- I wish we could-” 

“Peace, my heart. I did not mean to chastise you, only express my desire to hear your voice and bask in your warmth. Nothing more.” 

Lucifer crawled into his lap and clung to him, careful not to smudge any of the make up or disturb his clothes. He was dressed up for the festival, his body and garments glittering with gold and glass beads, as fine as any royal wife, since he was accompanying Irimaet throughout the procession that would start at the temples of the Pharaohs and end at the temple of Amun-Ra. 

“You look resplendent,” Alastor said softly, caressing the fine skin beneath the flowing linen. “Like a lotus blossom on a still pond.”

“Flatterer,” Lucifer hummed, pressing his lips to the priest's clavicle and making him shudder. “I think I can find you tonight. Lilith will be very tired after the long day. She won't make me stay after I sing her to sleep.”

“Only if you are certain,” Alastor replied. “That means we can only recline together, and speak of your home.” 

“What's the matter? Tired of my mouth on your cock?” Lucifer teased. 

“The sun will cease to rise before that happens,” Alastor growled, now slightly riled up at the imagery, and the memory of that hot mouth on his groin. “But I will be content with whatever you want, my heart.”

Lucifer's sly hand found its way under Alastor's robes and into his loincloth. “What I want is to see that smug, controlled face become wrecked by just my touch.” 

Alastor gripped the slender wrist and growled deep in his chest. “Careful, little lion… you'll be bent over my knee if you continue.” 

Seeing that his teasing had been a success, Lucifer removed his hands and laughed with delight. “Sorry, Alastor. It's too easy to make you needy. But you're right, we have to be careful. I just wish…” he sighed and leaned against them. “I wish we could have more time together. Instead of tiny meetings like this that barely sustain me.” 

“I know,” Alastor agreed softly, memorizing the feel of Lucifer's body against his own. “But it is all we have.” 

“Maybe we can speak at the feast tonight. It will be on the boats.”

“I will request it from Pharaoh. Is she treating you alright?” 

Lucifer shrugged. “As always. Though, she has been more… considerate lately. I think my efforts to enjoy pleasuring her are paying off. She even gave me a pet duck! It's so cute! I named him Ketet! Because that's what you always call me!” 

Lucifer's smile was so bright, it almost melted the shadows from Alastor's soul. He laughed and pulled them in for more kisses, rebelling against the thought of sending them back to another. 

A discreet cough outside the carriage was the signal from Haashket that people were on the way. Lucifer practically jumped off the priest's lap and frantically looked over his clothes to make sure they were perfect. 

Alastor touched a finger to Lucifer's cheek. “I will see you at the feast, beloved. You carry my heart in your pouch wherever you go.” 

Lucifer smiled in return, raising the hood of his cape to cover his hair. “And you have my beads to keep you company. Until tonight.” 

When he was gone, Alastor sank into depression. This happened each time after their meetings. It was pathetic, and he hated the tug and pull of his emotions that danced to another's tune. Had he known this would be the result of their meetings, he would have never offered Apophis a sacrifice. 

It was a lie, of course. He would offer a hundred sacrifices for one night with the man who had claimed his heart. 

After several long minutes, the curtain was pushed aside to reveal Haashket. “It's safe now, Master. The Favored One made it back unseen.” 

“Of course he did,” Alastor grumbled, emerging into the hot midday sun. “My powers make sure of that, even when the shadows are short, they cover him.”

“How long will this continue?” The lesser priest asked. “Do you really think you can keep this up under Pharaoh's nose?” 

Alastor's back stiffened, rising to his full height to look down at his servant with venom in his gaze. “I do not recall asking for your opinion.”

Haashket cowered, regretting speaking out. “Apologies, Master. I spoke without thought.” 

“A mistake that is not to be repeated. Unless you crave the touch of the whip.” 

Haashket hastily backed away, rushing off to attend to other duties and get away from his volatile master, muttering about finding a gift for Ankhu, his own not so secret lover. 

Alastor's normal duties felt so stifling, so dry, so bare, after the brief encounter with Lucifer. He performed them with perfection, leaving nothing to chance or neglect, but his soul had abandoned his body to roam like a shadow, attached to his heart who sat next to Pharaoh. Alastor would occasionally slip a hand into his tunic where he has a secret pocket sewn to hold the amber beads, caressing the smooth surfaces and remembering stolen nights. 

It was impossible to say when exactly he had passed the point of no return. Perhaps it had been when Lucifer had fallen asleep in his arms, dozing lightly after their love making. It amazed the priest with the blood stained hands that anyone could feel safe enough in his presence to let down all their guards. 

Or perhaps it was when Nafir had brought him a small carved figurine of a water fowl, painted unlike any that Alastor had seen before. When he had the opportunity to ask Lucifer what it was, he said it was a duck from his homeland, and was his favorite. 

Alastor wasn't sure who was laughing at him more from the home of the gods, Amun-Ra or Apophis. He had gotten what he wanted, and yet Lucifer was still as unreachable as the sun. 

He woke up sick and went to bed with a fever, and the only thing that cooled the desire in his blood was the touch and comfort of his personal Aten. 

Public feasts like the one on Pharaoh's barge gave Alastor an excuse to be close to Lucifer without arousing suspicion. Irimaet was busy with appeasing nobles and dignitaries, and her favorite concubine was often left to his own devices. It was not at all unusual to see her trusted advisor strike up a friendly conversation. 

Not unusual at all. 

Alastor approached the railing where Lucifer had found a perch, and placed a goblet of wine next to their elbow. 

“A beautiful night, isn't it, Favored One?” 

He was met with a sulky silence, not even a brief hello. Leaning over, Alastor searched the beautiful face for a problem. 

“What is wrong, beloved?” He asked softly so no one could overhear. 

Lucifer heaved a sigh as deep as the Nile. “I can't join you tonight. Lilith said she has been having nightmares lately and wants me to stay with her all night. If she wakes up and I am not there…”

“Nevermind,” Alastor said brightly, refusing to show his disappointment. He didn't need to place more guilt on those slender shoulders. “There will be other opportunities. Take care of Pharaoh's needs and soon she will relax her hold.” 

“I wish she didn't have a hold,” Lucifer said, tugging on his slave collar. “It is so strange to me that one person can own another. If she had asked me as a free man and I had agreed, then it would be different.”

A heavy silence descended between them. How could Alastor provide comfort when the institution of slavery had been a part of his daily life since infancy? His parents had owned a slave girl for a few years when he needed a companion to make sure he did his studies, but when her debt had been paid she went home to get married. It was as simple as that. 

“I… have been thinking,” Alastor began. Careful and hesitant to broach the subject. “You are most unhappy here in Egypt. You would rather be home with- with your family.” 

Lucifer scrunched his face to try not to cry. “Of course I would. I miss my mother and baby sister. Not my brothers, they can get stuck in a bog. But I miss the snow, the sheep, and the smell of green things. The storms. The fire inside our house that keeps us warm during the winter when the sun only rises for a few hours. I miss… ah, but I’m trying to adjust to Egypt. I'll be fine.”

The beads in Alastor's braids clicked together as he shook his head. “I can see how unhappy you are, my heart. What if… what if there was a caravan who could take you back? Would you go?” 

Lucifer straightened and blinked in confusion. “Is there a caravan?” 

“Not yet, but I can make inquiries-” 

“You can be many things, Alastor, but if you want this to continue then you cannot be cruel.” 

The tense reply, along with the way the warmth evaporating from Lucifer’s eyes, made Alastor aware that he was sailing into dangerous waters, and he scrambled to regain his footing.

“That is not my intention-”

“Not your intention to place the shadow of hope in front of me?” Lucifer demanded. “Do you think if it was possible I wouldn't have tried everything to escape? No one knows where I am from! We have no name for our forests and bogs, it's not like I can ask to be taken to Babylon or Ethiopia! My home is far away, and the only name your people have for mine are the Northmen! I was traded no less than five times until I came to Egypt! At one point there was a disagreement if I should be sold in Egypt or Persia, and one of the men stabbed the other! I don't know how to get home!” 

 Lucifer's voice had been steadily rising, drawing attention. As much as Alastor ached to gather his love in his arms and soothe their anger, he did not dare in such a public setting. 

“Lucifer, I didn't mean to-” 

“Well don't do it again!” 

Lucifer stormed off, unable to keep his emotions in check, unable to mingle for a second longer amongst strangers and their greedy eyes. He disappeared below decks where Pharaoh's bed was waiting for him, burrowing under the cushions and weeping as silently as he could. 

Left at the railing by himself, Alastor shook with guilt. He would rather cut his own tongue out than hurt Lucifer like that ever again. A servant in white approached with a summons from Pharoah, and he had to hastily come up with an excuse of a poor joke that the Favored One had taken offense to. 

Irimaet did not like that her concubine had been upset, but she accepted his story and gave him permission to apologize to Lucifer in the morning. 

After that, Alastor left the feast for his own barge, more determined than ever to find the merchants who had brought Lucifer to the palace and force them to identify where they had bought him. He would trace the line of sales back to their origin if it took him the rest of his life! 

He would set Lucifer free!

Chapter 13: The Shrine of Hathor

Summary:

In the middle of an inhospitable desert, a grand monument has withstood the test of time. Enormous and awe inspiring, will this be the final step in Lucifer's journey?

Notes:

For inspiration please look up pictures of The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut. It is absolutely stunning and was built by one of the few (that we know of) female Pharaohs. Natt provided AMAZING descriptions for this chapter, and provided so much niche knowledge that ties in real history that I weep with joy every time I read it. Shit like this is why I love Ancient Egypt. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Natt!! You made this chapter amazing.

Lucifer shielded his eyes against the bright Egyptian sun to gaze up at the mountain peak that was drawing closer with each sway of the camel's saddle he was currently sitting on. Though he had never ridden a camel before, he had quickly become accustomed to the movements that were soothing in their own way. Lute had suggested horses, but the ancient Egyptians all looked at her as if she was simple. 

When one needed to cross a desert, camels were required. 

Egypt had a way of making an individual feel small. The dunes threatened to swallow them. The expansive sky threatened to shatter over their heads and crush them. The towering single mountain, named El-Qurn in modern times, dwarfed the surrounding landscape. 

Lucifer could imagine what it would have been like for a northern slave to arrive in this harsh land. The terror must have set into his bones with every step. The foreigner must have wanted to sink into the sands and end the tormenting march that had taken him far from everything he knew. 

Then there were the cities. The masses of people. Egypt had been a leading empire for a reason, the fertile Nile allowing the population to grow and expand, supporting thousands of years of innovations and discoveries! Building, crafting, carving, weaving, learning! 

What inspired Lucifer with awe and wonder must have been utterly terrifying for the solitary slave. 

First he would find Irimaet, and then he would find her Favored One, who also deserved to be remembered. 

Another camel drew closer to his own, and without turning his head, Lucifer knew who it was. 

“What was it called in your time?” He asked, pointing to the mountain their group was approaching. 

“The Holiest of Holies,” Alastor answered. He had ridden close to Lucifer for the entire journey, protective and possessive in equal parts, even more so now with Adhmose nearby. “It was known that the mountain is what inspired the building of the pyramids, long before my time.”

Lucifer nodded as he took that in. “Of course! Khufu was a king during the fourth dynasty of the Old Kingdom. You lived during the New Kingdom. They were old when you were born.” 

“Khufu's pyramids are the biggest, but not the oldest,” Alastor replied. “Though I argue the requirements of calling the kingdoms ‘new’ and ‘old’.” 

Lucifer couldn't help but laugh. “It's just a way for us scholars to categorize the different eras of ancient history. The Old Kingdom focused on centralizing power, while the New Kingdom saw an incredible amount of expansion. It was an easy way to discuss which Pharaohs belonged to which era.”

Alastor sniffed. “Thousands of years later and our greatest achievements are reduced to two simple words.”

“Nothing about Egypt is simple,” Lucifer grinned, about to start on a tangent of his favorite archeological finds, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking to breathing history. 

Alastor allowed it, never interrupting, and only correcting information that Lucifer had wrong. It was so pleasant to be under the sun once more, baking in the unrelenting heat after thousands of years in the cold void, and listening to the most pleasant voice speak about absolutely nothing important.

It was his personal oasis of refreshment. 

Their little caravan finally crossed into the entrance of a valley that stood at the foot of the mountain, carved from wind and rain and human hands to house enormous buildings of prestige and wealth. Now called Deir El-Bahari by the locals, Lucifer had not heard of any current excavations in the area. With the difficulties in reaching it with the necessary equipment, Lucifer could understand why. 

Standing in front of the vast mountain in an otherwise flat and empty landscape truly put the sights before them into a dizzying perspective. Much of the area was buried in piles upon piles of sand; reclaimed by the desert when the people ceased fighting her will. Yet she couldn’t completely swallow the splendor and grandeur that encompassed the site. Among the rubble and debris, past the crumbled pillars and broken statues, rose the empty husks of long forgotten buildings, each one bigger than the last. At first glance Lucifer found himself at a loss for where to look first, with each new glimpse of an uncovered artifact drawing his attention. He swivelled around in his seat, attempting desperately to take it all in at once.

“Never thought I would see this place again,” Husk mumbled as the steady plop of the camel hooves took them through sand covered ruins, half buried roads and the hushed whispers of ancient ghosts. 

“It's so… empty,” Nifty's voice chimed in, subdued and small. Her single eye looked over the broken pillars and weathered stones with sadness. “There used to be so much color and laughter. We came here every year for the Festivals, didn't we, Master?” 

Nifty had not quite adjusted to the change of ‘master’ to ‘sir’, and it mattered less now that everyone in their group knew the truth. No one bothered to correct her. 

“Those times are best left in the past, my dear,” Alastor answered, though his own voice was reverent. “We are modern beings now.”

Adhmose made a disgusted sound. “You should have remained in your coffin. The only reason I am even here is because you knocked down my door and woke me!” 

Lucifer swiveled in the saddle to stare back at the possessed American. “Just what did you have against Alastor? Why go through all that trouble to curse him when all you needed to do was execute him for his crimes?” 

Adhmose lifted his brows at the tone, still unused to being addressed in such a way by one he considered lesser. His eyes briefly flickered to Alastor, then back. 

“Against him? Nothing, really. It was his own pride that brought about his downfall. Thought he could steal the sun from the sky and no one would notice? Hah!”

Beside Lucifer's elbow, Alastor gritted his teeth. “Be quiet, you old fool. Your endless prattle is annoying me.” 

“Don't you want to know why he cursed you?” Lucifer asked. 

“It wasn't to spite me,” Alastor said. “It was to spite her. His older sister who was better than him in every way. Wasn't she, Adhmose?” 

He flashed a mocking grin over his shoulder, satisfied at the flash of rage on Adhmose's stolen face. 

“You crooked son of a jackal-!”

“Enough,” Lute broke in, nudging her camel in between the two bickering men. “I've had it with you children! We can ride separately again if you don't shut the fuck up until we get there. How much longer, Adam- Adhmose.”

“The proper name is Great One, but I will let it slide,” Adhmose pointed to the end of the valley. “There. It is Irimaet's temple. She wasn't content with a small building, oh no! Not my sister!” The bitterness practically dripped from his tongue. “I built a chamber beneath the shrine of Hathor on the south end.”

An amused chuckle burst from Lucifer. “That's fitting. She used to say she was Hathor reborn in the flesh. Mostly to add strength to her rule.”

Alastor startled. “How did you know that?”

Lucifer froze, his eyes wide. “I… I don't know. I just… said it.” 

Adhmose barked a nasty laugh. “Not the Favored One, eh? Next you'll tell us how she liked to tumble you in bed!” 

Cheeks flashing with hot embarrassment, Lucifer clicked at his mount to shuffle the beast faster, away from the taunting Pharaoh and the past that nipped at his heels. The sound of hooves following told him that Alastor was right behind him, leaving the others to follow at a more sedate pace. The mountain loomed above them, and with it the tomb of the one he had been searching for, now almost within his grasp. 

Lucifer underestimated the sheer size of the mortuary temple, as it kept getting bigger and bigger as they approached. Seemingly built out of the mountain itself, the building expanded outwards and down from the rough rock around it, its bricks still sleek and polished despite over a millennium of wear and tear. His mouth hung open as he took in the sight before him. Three enormous terraces descended down the mountain like giant steps, each one lined with elaborately decorated columns and long, broad causeways interconnecting the different levels. They were wide enough to house an entire parade, or a huge throng of worshippers. The sheer scale of the site spoke to the amount of people it must have once housed, at the peak of its popularity. Priests milling about, nobles visiting to pay their respects, commoners leaving gifts and other offerings to their gods and deified rulers. A place of both life and death intertwined.

“This is unbelievable!” Lucifer breathed, twisting about so he could take in as many details as possible. Weathered guardian sphinxes peeked out from underneath the piles of sand around them, lining the walkway up to the entrance. They were much smaller than the Sphinx back at the Giza plateau, yet their presence added an undeniable weight to the site, guarding the temple even after the rest of their civilization was long gone. From among the pillars of the temple, Lucifer could spot the looming shapes of large statues with human bodies and animal heads. Statues of the Gods. “It's shocking no one has stumbled upon it yet! Why, it could be seen from the sky by a passing plane for how large it is!” 

“What's a plane?” Nifty asked. 

“That's why,” Lute commented. “Planes are a recent invention. I dare say there was no reason for anyone to visit this valley before, or they kept their knowledge a secret.” 

Lucifer abruptly halted his mount and clicked for the beast to lower him to the ground to dismount. The camel's groan echoed in the open space, but it complied without a fuss. Lucifer scrambled down and planted his feet on the stone causeway, spinning in a circle with his arms held wide. He was standing where the ancients had stood! He was walking on the hallowed ground they had built for their kings! 

It was incredible! 

Nifty also dismounted in solidarity, and beckoned Lucifer from one end of the pathways to the other, explaining what the faded pictures were, as she was familiar with the stories even though she could not read. She traced her hand along the glyphs, a joyous if melancholy expression taking over her features. Lucifer listened with rapt attention, too overwhelmed to write any of it down. 

“It’s so empty now, and all the life is gone…” She sighed, staring longingly out across the open, sand-filled plaza. “There used to be so many people here, and the priests kept a luscious green garden in the middle. Even the pools on the second level have been swallowed by the sand…” Her words made Lucifer pause in his tracks, abruptly hit with the realization Nifty had once seen this place back in its glory days, when it had yet to be reclaimed by the desert. Before Lucifer could stop to question her, however, she was already moving forward, skipping along in the sand towards her next goal.

On the first, and lowest terrace, the walls that lined the causeway showed different deeds that Pharaoh Irimaet had performed. Nifty pointed out the obelisk shapes, lying on their side and pulled by rows of workers, that had been transported to Karnak to be established at the temple of Amun-Ra there. Irimaet was a prominent figure in all of them, her commands written on the stone. 

On the other end, Nifty explained that Irimaet was drawn as a sphinx, crushing her enemies and the enemies of Egypt. Nifty even demonstrated by stomping around and imitating a lion's roar until Lucifer laughed and pulled her away to the second terrace. 

There were even more scenes of processions, many of them with Irimaet at the head, offering gifts to the gods or transporting goods from the Land of Punt, with pictures of animal skins, incense, trees, and live animals led on leashes. Lucifer's eyes sparkled, fascinated by this far away land, and discussed theories of where it could possibly have been. He tried asking Alastor about it, but the priest shrugged and said he had not been a part of the expedition, as he had been a lesser priest at the time. 

“All I know is that she established a strong and long-lasting trade relation on her journey. When she returned, she brought with her an endless array of things…” He answered, gesturing out towards the lower terrace. “Several of the trees in the courtyard originated from that expedition, along with other greenery. Most were planted back at the palace, but Irimaet was not one to forget about her subjects. They too got to witness the fruits of her labor whenever they visited here.”

Alastor was notably uncomfortable as they crossed the threshold of the temple. His hooded gaze hid most of his emotions, but from the glares he kept shooting in Adhmose's direction, he was ruminating on the past.

As they climbed to the third, and finally terrace, Lucifer could see more clearly than ever before how the three of them belonged here. Alastor was tall and regal, his dark bronze skin matching many of the painted faces on the walls. He was dressed in black robes, cinched at the waist, and his head was covered in a dark red turban to protect him from the sun. He could have stepped off the murals for how similar he was. 

Then there was Husk, his skin even darker, lounging on top of his mount and looking bored, as if he had seen everything before and didn’t share the same sense of wonder. He wore plain clothes that were stained and dirty, but he handled his camel like an expert. 

Dear little Nifty was everywhere at once, her sandled feet dancing on stones that would have been off limits to her without her Master, and never as free as this. She would have been at the back, along with other servants and slaves, and not marching in the middle of the causeway, flinging her arms about and laughing. Her hair style was cut below her ears, an exact match to style in the murals. Even her dress had changed, now that they were a smaller group, and she had draped sheer scarves and linen over herself that emphasized her slim form instead of hiding it. 

It was a strange thought, but Lucifer finally believed they were ancient beings brought back to life by some force he could not understand. 

Noticing his stare, Alastor stopped. “What is it, mry? What is wrong?” 

Lucifer shook himself, offering a smile. He slipped his hand into Alastor's and tugged him up the steps. “It's nothing, really. This entire place is incredible! It's hard to believe it was built by human hands.” 

Alastor's shoulders relaxed by an inch, appeased that Lucifer was fine. “Many hands,” he answered. “Expert craftsmen, too. Every Pharaoh wanted to leave their mark on history, and be remembered throughout their afterlife.”

Reminded of why they were there, Lucifer renewed his energy to reach the top. “Irimaet will be remembered! If I have to write her name in the textbooks myself!” 

They picked their way through the ruins, circumventing fallen columns and rubble that had damaged the temple from either earthquakes or other natural disasters. The camels were gathered in a shady courtyard, and Nifty was left to set up camp to see to the animals. She sang while she worked in what sounded like an old lullaby. 

Lucifer didn’t wait. He grabbed a pickaxe and a tool set, ignoring the ache in his body from the day's ride to answer the call in his veins, the whispers that had haunted him since childhood. It was stronger now than it had ever been, begging him to keep searching, and never stop. He didn’t have a name for the call when he was a child, but he did now. 

“I’m coming, Lilith,” he promised, turning south to search for Hathor's shrine. “I'm almost there… I will find you…”

Should he be talking to a dead Pharaoh? Well, it wasn’t like she was the first one. 

Alastor's guiding hand stopped him from taking a right turn and instead led him down a passage to the left. Behind them trailed the others, with Lute practically dragging Adhmose by the collar. He seemed very reluctant to see his sister again. Lucifer pressed closer to Alastor, seeking comfort as well as warmth. For whatever reason, his skin prickled with goosebumps, as if he was cold. 

The broken and faded statues began to change, the columns shaped at the top to be the goddess Hathor with voluminous hair and cow ears. 

“I thought Isis was the most important goddess,” Lute commented as they walked. “What does Hathor do?” 

Lucifer twisted about with excitement, walking backwards so he could lecture on the subject and trusting in Alastor to keep him from tripping. 

“Hathor predates Isis, actually! At least, her popularity does. Hathor is the goddess of women, love, fertility, childbirth, uhh…” 

“Joy and life,” Alastor said helpfully. “She is the Goddess of the West, and the protector of the Deir El-Bahari. She is the balance of feminine and masculine, and connects life and death.” 

“Wow, all of that?” Lute sounded impressed, nodding to the statues with fresh respect. “It takes a woman to get things done.” 

Adhmose made a rude sound. “Some goddess of love my sister turned out to be, if her favorite consort betrayed her for another.” 

His nasty sneer twisted inside Lucifer's chest. It almost felt like guilt. He hated this emotion that wasn’t his own!

Lucifer halted, glaring and clenching his fists as if ready to fight. “You! You were just jealous that it was Akathor and not you! You were always jealous of Lilith! No wonder you stole everything she ever accomplished!”

Silence descended in the ruins after his outburst, charged and heavy like the air after a strike of lightning. All eyes were on the smaller man, while Adhmose paled at the accusation. 

“Lucifer!” Alastor breathed, reaching for the flushed cheek. “Do you remember? You said my name! Your khet must be close!” 

Lucifer winced as sharp pain lanced through his eye. He stumbled into Alastor and groaned until the pain receded. 

“I- I don't know why I said that-” Lucifer panted. “Why does this- this keeps happening…” 

“Fine!” Adhmose gritted his teeth. “If you must know! I placed your sarcophagus next to Irimaet's, where you belonged! She wouldn't gift you to me, her brother, and I had to follow the law! If you had taken my offer, your ankh wouldn't have been punished to wander the earth for centuries!” 

The earth tilted on its axis, making Lucifer dizzy. “It-it was you… I've been searching for- for Irimaet…” 

“You have been searching for yourself,” Alastor, his voice as cold as the night. “All because his pride was injured!” 

“Don’t you dare talk to me about pride!” Adhmose sneered. “It was not I who sacrificed prisoners to the Great Serpent in exchange for power!” 

Lute physically stepped between them and held up her arms. “Can we get on with it?! Or would you prefer to cut each other's throats before we even open the damn tomb?” 

“I will do much more than cut his throat,” Alastor chuckled darkly, flashing teeth that were sharp enough to tear into flesh. He tugged on Lucifer's waist. “Let's go, mry. We are almost there.” 

Lucifer didn't fight it, trying to focus on the ground beneath his feet and not the confusing images that flickered through his mind. For a moment the ruins were gone, replaced with shining columns painted with bright colors and potted greenery everywhere, carpets and rush mats softening the floor. 

For a moment he was in the temple during its glory days, following the golden sandals of a woman wearing a striped headdress. She turned to smile at him, but her face was blurred out. 

He couldn't remember… her face. 

The columns towered all around them, their looming faces blurred out far above his head. It was a cramped space in comparison to the goddess’ dedicated temple over in Iunet, yet no less glamorous. Each and every wall was covered in hieroglyphs, both big and small. He danced his way around the columns, moving further in and out of the sun’s scorching blaze. The large entranceway loomed before him, its hieroglyph-covered walls cast in long, distorted shadows. He could hear a voice up ahead, beckoning him forward. Her words escaped him, yet he knew she wanted him to follow. As the passage narrowed around him with every step, he could see a hand reach out towards him. They were rough with callouses earned through many hard-fought battles, her skin shining with a striking bronze hue in the low light of the torches. The familiar scent of lotus blossoms hung heavy in the air, enveloping his mind as he was pulled along through the towering corridors. The smell of incense also played along his senses, together with an echoing laugh. Reliefs of gods passed him by, blending together on the walls in a strange overlay of new and old; whole and broken. Only the blue ceiling far above their heads remained the same.

After another eternity, Lucifer realized they had stopped moving. They had reached a dead end, a small enclosed space that was clearly meant for Hathor with murals of the goddess on the crumbling walls. The ringing sounds of pickaxes striking stone made him realize that Alastor and Husk were breaking the flagstones that must have once supported a statue of the goddess. Lucifer looked around, only to realize that he was sitting on it. 

Apologizing to the goddess, Lucifer joined in with his pickaxe, the sweat rolling down his back with the effort. He refused to sit down, like Adhmose was, and put all his efforts into breaking the stone.

With every swing of the tool, with every ring of metal on stone, Lucifer dug through the years and centuries when he wandered, lost and alone, searching… searching… 

A life on a boat. Drowned at sea. 

A life in the mountains. Fell from a cliff. 

A life in the forest. Died of exposure.

A life in luxury. Poisoned by a vicious rival. 

A life in squalor. Starved to death. 

Searching… seeking… 

Where are you?

DING. 

Where am I? 

THUNK.

He promised we would be together. 

CRACK.

Lucifer gasped at the gaping hole in the flagstone, his eyes widening at the sight of steps leading down into the ground. A secret chamber beneath the shrine of Hathor.

“Finally,” Adhmose huffed and rose to his feet. “That would have taken half as long with real muscled slaves.” 

“I didn't always have this gut,” Husk said, patting the rotund shape in his middle. “And slavery doesn't exist anymore, remember?” 

The pharaoh cackled. “I'm sure it exists! Under another name, perhaps.” 

Lucifer wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy breaking off more pieces with Alastor's help, clearing more of the flagstone away until there was enough room to duck underneath the floor and descend. 

“Lanterns… lanterns!” He gestured. Someone passed him one that was lit, and he descended first into the darkness…

…back through time…

…to recover what he had lost.