Disjunction

Author’s Note: Well, this thing was the original last chapter of TCR. And it was only the third chapter. So, this is what I had before I became review hungry. Only reason I’m putting this up now is because I’m vanishing for the next month or so, and I didn’t want to leave ya’ll hanging on nothing. So…ignore the freaky tense and enjoy.


He stood up and rushed out the door almost as soon as I released. Was I that poor a lover? He hadn’t seemed to mind before…

I trailed over to the door and caught the sound of voices. One was his. I listened.

“ – can’t do that!” someone else’s voice exclaimed.

“He doesn’t know what I am,” came the furious reply. That was him - his voice. “He doesn’t know what I gave.”

What is he talking about?

“All the more reason not to have done it,” the other voice hisses. That voice is higher – a low tenor to my protector’s bass.

“I don’t have time for this, Seth,” he snaps.

I can hear footsteps.

“Afraid to tell him what he’s taken?” the other voice taunts. There is bitterness hidden there. I wonder why?

“Jealous?” he growls.

I can’t see them, but I can picture the fight right enough. Between the verbal blows and the glares, he will be winning, ever-confident. The shriveled toad with a tenor must be shaking in his boots, staring up at those pools of liquid fire he calls eyes.

“Of course I am.” The voice is weary, run-down. I could feel sorry for its owner, if he hadn’t just yelled at mine.

“I would have waited for you,” the tenor continues, “but you wouldn’t have waited for me…”

“I told you I could never give myself to you,” he protests, but it sounds soft, like he’s trying to deny and comfort at the same time.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” the tenor replies, wistfully.

“You will be my greatest friend for as long as you live, Seth,” he murmurs, “but you can never be the other half of my soul.” There is a pause. “Come with me.”

Footsteps – they’re coming back. I fumble with a hip wrap, trying to tie it correctly. I only succeed in knotting it loosely around my waist. That will have to do.

He is there, then, and the stranger beside him… I have to crane my neck to see his face, he’s that tall. Or maybe I’m that short. The tall stranger doesn’t look pleased, but his eyebrows go up a little when he sees me.

“Copulating with a miniature copy of yourself, Atemu?” His voice sounds mildly amused.

My heart freezes mid-beat. Atemu – there is only one person in the kingdom who bears that name.

Atemu – the prince. The sole heir to the throne of Egypt. Now I understand why this tall stranger had been incensed at finding me with him. Everyone knows about the Caliming Rite – by all laws and traditions, I have stepped into a position of impossible power.

He smiles, interrupting my whirling thoughts and wraps an arm around me. “I told you I was a narcissist,” the prince – the prince! - replies.

The brunet shakes his head. I still can’t get over how tall he is.

“There will be many who will object.”

“What’s done is done. Station, jealousy and power aside – I cannot be reclaimed.” The smile on his face isn’t self-satisfied. It’s more bittersweet, and his arm tightens around me.

The tall stranger stiffens, as do I. There is something hidden in those words.

“Atemu – what did you do?”

He shrugs, pulling me closer. I don’t mind being close, but his body is burning up from the inside. The skin is hot to the touch – hotter than any mortal can be and still draw brerath.

“Isis read my future. It was just to make sure I will see you again.” His hand tightens on my shoulder. I believe I will have both burns and bruises from the touch.

“Atemu – what did you see?” His voice is urgent. If I trusted myself to speak, I would ask the same thing.

Atemu smiles wearily. “Fire,” he answers, but as both the brunet and I open our mouths to protest, he holds up a hand. “Not for a long time.”

Something between us flares, and I know he’s lying.

*****~*****

I felt it. I felt him die.

I knew I would.

In spite of his reassurances, or maybe because of them.

I knew it, and I didn’t stop him.

Seth is beside me. He knows, too. The look on his face is madness. HE is lost to his own insanity.

Here is the crux of the matter, then. He claimed both of us, and I claimed him, but he only ever belonged to himself.

I teeter on the edge.

Seth has no choice – Egypt needs a ruler now, and he is destined for it. He cannot leave.

I have no such ties. I am free to follow.

In my obsession, perhaps I have forgotten one thing. Time will tell.

Hold on, Atemu.

I’m not letting you go.

But I forgot the golden collar of the gods.

He no longer belongs to me.