I'm not going to be too busy this summer, and I've written two stories at once before. I should be finished with one by the time I reeducate myself with the show of another story I've put on hold, so why not start this story? I've been tweaking these two chapters a lot for awhile, eager to post them.

This is my take on a possibility of how Kahmunrah and Ahkmenrah's relationship evolved over the course of their lives.

I'd like to thank The mysteryone14 for answering a couple of questions that helped this story. :)

I don't own the characters shown in Night at the Museum.


Curse the man whoever founded arithmetic.

This sentence was repeated several times in the mind of little Kahmunrah as he stared at the papyrus papers. For reasons unknown to him, the six-year-old had to learn arithmetic, and he apparently had to be very good at it. But it wasn't like he was going to be a mathematician.

Kahmunrah was the son of Merenkare, Pharaoh of Egypt. He himself would ascend the throne one day and the boy took much pride in this fact. The respect his father got was incredible to the boy. This was saying something taking into consideration he was at that moment wearing a white tunic made of the finest linen, probably the most comfortable sandals in all of Egypt, and had on a perfume that some nobles couldn't even afford.

He was greatly pampered as the prince and he loved it, yet he couldn't wait to get the special attention his father gets that makes his own treatment look weak. His father could do anything he wanted, unlike Kahmunrah who still had to follow the rules of his parents.

Despite Pharaoh's freedom he made some choices Kahmunrah found questionable. For instance, Merenkahre intentionally shaves his head.

"A pharaoh's hair must not be seen," he had said, "Therefore, it is easier for me to have no hair at all."

If it were Kahmunrah, he'd change the rule so that his hair could be seen. Why must he have to bow to such silly rules as Pharaoh? He loved that his hair reached his shoulders. It could be decorated much more than if it were cut short like most Egyptian boys.

Even though he wasn't a pharaoh yet, Kahmunrah's life was nearly perfect. There was just one thing that he could trace all of his problems to.

He could suddenly hear that one thing's bare feet hitting the tile floor as he ran. His little brother entered the room wearing nothing but a white kilt made of the same material as Kahmunrah's tunic and an ankh amulet around his neck. The boy was eating a plum, its juice settling around his mouth and all over the hand that held the fruit.

Kahmunrah found his three-year-old brother exceedingly annoying. The three-year-old seemed to do nothing but ask many questions and request that Kahmunrah play a game with him. His parents always gave him more attention too. Everyone insisted it was because Ahkmenrah needed the attention because of his age, but Kahmunrah knew better.

"Hi Kahmunrah," he greeted. He observed the papers strewn about on the table, "What are you looking at?"

"Arithmetic notes," he answered hoping his brother would find it boring and leave. It seemed to have the opposite effect.

"I don't know much about arithmetic. Can I see some notes?" he asked excitedly. Kahmunrah looked at Ahkmenrah with surprise. "What?"

"Arithmetic is probably the most boring thing on Earth and you want to look at it when it's not necessary to do so?" he lisped.

Ahkmenrah frowned, "Is it really that bad?"

"That and much worse." He looked at Ahkmenrah's hands, "Besides, I wouldn't let you touch my notes in the condition your little hands are in." The boy looked at his hands, which he realized were sticky from the plum juice. "Now if you don't mind. Leave!"

"But won't you get lonely?"

"No."

"I get lonely when no one's around me. I get bored too. That's why I came here to see you. I was lonely because everyone's busy and I knew you were in here all by yourself, so I decided to try and find you. But I was hungry, so I went to..."

Kahmunrah zoned out as his little brother began to rant. His parents assured him that these rants were common in little kids and that he would grow out of it. They had told him he just needed to be patient. But if there was one thing he didn't have, it was patience.

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked. Ahkmenrah suddenly stopped talking, a look of shock on his face.

His expression turned into a glare as he said, "Shut up isn't a nice thing to say. You should say sorry to me." Kahmunrah clenched his teeth as his temper flared. Did this three-year-old just demand an apology from him, the future pharaoh?! Well Kahmunrah certainly wasn't going to give one.

"Why don't you go jump into a pit full of crocodiles?" he exclaimed.

Ahkmenrah looked confused, for the answer was obvious, "Because they'd eat me."

A woman's voice rang in the corridors outside the room, "Kahmunrah!" The beautiful Great Queen Shepseheret entered the study. She had heard what her eldest had said to her youngest. "Is that anyway to talk to your brother? Or anyone for that matter?"

Kahmunrah shook his head in response, "No."

The queen nodded in satisfaction and turned to Ahkmenrah, "Why don't you finish your plum in the kitchen? We don't want to make a mess, now do we?" This time it was Ahkmenrah who shook his head. "Run along then."

As Ahkmenrah ran off the queen looked at her eldest, disappointed, "Kahmunrah, I know siblings can be difficult to deal with..."

The boy pouted, "He demanded an apology from me! Just for saying the words shut up too! I didn't even demand that he shut up, I just asked why he didn't!"

"My child, you cannot lose your temper over such a small thing."

"Name a pharaoh that wouldn't kill a person of lower rank who demanded an apology."

"Your father for one, especially if it was a person so small and innocent."

Kahmunrah started to stack the notes, "I don't see the big deal. The dummy didn't even realize I was insulting him."

"He's not a dummy Kahmunrah, he's little. He doesn't understand rhetorical questions. And whether or not he understood, it wasn't very nice of you." She rested a hand on his shoulder, "I must leave, but please, if he returns, try to be nicer to your brother."

Kahmunrah didn't say anything as his mother left.


Shepseheret sat on the edge of her bed as her servants brushed her hair, looking for outfits for her to try on, or preparing perfumes for the queen to wear. There was going to be a banquet in the palace that night with all of the nearby nobles. The behavior of her boys not only reflected her abilities as a mother, but also Merenkahre's abilities as a father and foreshadowed Kahmunrah's rule as pharaoh.

She hoped and prayed her boys would be on good terms by the time the party started. Kahmunrah was good at holding a grudge and Ahkmenrah was naïve to his brother's annoyance in his body language, possibly annoying him more.

She addressed a short, middle-aged servant walking towards her with makeup, "I worry, Mafuane. Both of my boys will be attending this banquet."

"Your Majesty, brothers fight all the time, look at me and my siblings, or my own children. Everyone wanted to pull each other's hair out but our relationships couldn't be better."

"I know, but it is tonight that I worry about. All princes must behave appropriately in front of their subjects. If they get into some sort of quarrel..."

"Ahkmenrah never starts fights," Mafuane began applying black kohl around the queen's eyes, "and Kahmunrah knows better than to start one in front of all of the nobles."

"He knows better yes, but he has quite a temper that is hard to control. Will he think before he acts?" Another servant came over and showed the queen two headdresses, "That one will do." The servant nodded and left to polish it.

"Say that something did start Great Queen," she put away the kohl, "How bad could it be?"

She shook her head, "Oh I don't want to imagine."