Some God's Experiment
By Parlay
At the end of 'Aida', we see Radames and Aida after a hundred lifetimes apart. But what if this is not the first time they have met in the past hundred lifetimes? What if this is all some god's experiment?
Disclaimer: Aida belongs to Disney, Elton John, Tim Rice and no doubt lots of other people. I'm just playing.
Chapter One: Fate Intervened
She walked the halls of the palace slowly, knowing she would not miss what she had come to see. She made it a point of never being disappointed.
She had many names – countless had appealed for her intervention across the centuries, invoking them – but she never felt any of the names had captured her entirely. However, her title mattered little. She knew who she was, as did those humans – she changed her name according to her mood, like a princess would change her gown.
At present, 'Hathor' pleased her but it would no doubt change, especially seeing each new civilisation insisted on creating her a new title in order to claim her as their own. She did not mind – it amused her.
She was drawn to this place, at this time, not only because of the humans involved. She could feel the presence of another like her - and sensed that fate had been disrupted somehow. She was curious to see how and why.
She had taken on the mortal form of an Egyptian noble, dressed in finery enough that she would not be out of place but nothing that would make her seem particularly noteworthy. She saw a group of nobles ahead, engrossed in the action below and murmuring hurriedly to each other. Ignoring them, she moved to a balcony with an uninterrupted view – no one noticed her, despite her having the best view to herself.
She looked down at the old Pharaoh, not long for this life – even the humans could sense that. The Egyptian and Nubian princesses, both distressed, and the adventurous young captain loved by both, resigned more than anything. He was pleasing to the eye, she admitted to herself, and it was easy to see why the two noble women had fallen for him.
As the trial started, the beginnings of some unfamiliar emotion fluttered through her, and she endeavoured to identify it.
'Sad, my dear?' came a quiet voice from behind her.
The edges of her mouth upturned into a small smile as he came to stand beside her, his eyes also on the action below.
'No,' she replied automatically but he had recognised her emotion before she had. She was saddened by what was happening, the despondency of the princess, the fate of the doomed lovers. She turned to him, seeing the amusement play out over his handsome human face.
'Perhaps,' she acknowledged primly, turning back to see the princess intervene in the judgement of the couple.
She felt his eyes on her but ignored him as the new Pharaoh pronounced the condemnation of the lovers. 'You have a curious interest in these mortals,' he commented in a low tone as they sauntered towards the exit, falling behind the real Egyptian nobles who were muttering in tones far more excited than their own.
She arched a brow. 'If one of us is curious, it is not me, Set,' she replied, for she knew this was the title that presently pleased him. 'Those two are condemned for love – and I know you have had some part in their fate,' she added enigmatically. He did not deny it, guiding them outside to the palace grounds.
He held out a manicured hand, and an elegant parasol materialised. He put it up, handing it to her. 'This ghastly sun will be terrible for your fragile skin, my dear,' he said.
She smiled, nodding her thanks and taking the parasol in one hand, his offered arm with the other. 'Many human things are fragile, Set,' she replied as they walked slowly. She stared at the blue sky, sensing the despair of the lovers. 'But some are more durable than you would care to believe.'
'Oh?' Set inquired.
Hathor ignored him, frowning thoughtfully. 'I wonder what it is, though, that you find the happiness of two human lovers so terrible you feel the need to disturb fate and break it?' she asked rhetorically.
Set simply smiled in reply and they strolled towards a garden in silence, listening to lovers' conversation in the tomb. Hathor sighed but Set gave a sharp bark of laughter.
'Something amuses you?' she inquired lightly.
'Always,' he replied cheerfully. 'Humans are an endless source of entertainment. 'One hundred lifetimes'! Ha!' he laughed. Hathor cocked her head, questioning. Set smiled. 'His "love" will be forgotten by his next lifetime, let alone a hundred times over,' he declared.
Hathor made a small, thoughtful noise, still listening to the lovers pledging themselves to each other. 'I disagree,' she remarked finally. 'I believe this Radames is in earnest. And his Aida equally so.'
'Oh, I'm quite sure they've deluded themselves into believing what they say,' Set replied conversationally, plucking a plush blossom from a bush. 'That does not necessarily make it true.'
Hathor made the same thoughtful noise, waving away the proffered flower. 'The human spirit is a remarkable thing, dear Set,' she said. 'We shall see how durable it is – despite your efforts to break it,' she added a little darkly.
He stopped walking. She unhooked her arm from his as he turned towards her. 'You think I should not have interfered?' he asked, taken aback.
'You do as you please, Set – you always have,' she replied. 'I would have been better pleased with the life intended for them,' she said casually, turning away and resuming her walk. Set kept apace beside her. She continued. 'But the death planned for them does not distress me.'
'Liar,' he stated gently.
She looked at him, again surprised he had read her emotions better than she could. 'Perhaps,' she replied after a pause.
'And you honestly believe in the resilience of the human spirit? Of the "love" of this couple?' he asked, amazed.
'I do,' she replied calmly. 'And we shall both see over the next hundred lifetimes, and beyond, unless I'm very much mistaken.'
'Shall we have a wager, then?' he proposed, sounding delighted by the prospect.
She wrinkled her pretty nose. 'No. It is vulgar - placing bets upon the fates of humans,' she admonished him lightly. 'Besides, neither of us has anything the other wants.'
He laughed. 'Not entirely true. You wish for these humans to have a chance at the life they should have had,' he said, guiding her to the middle of the sumptuous garden. 'I wish to prove that their "eternal love" is as fragile as their weak bodies. The prize shall be being right. Is there anything better to have?'
'True,' she admitted slowly, walking to the shade of the gazebo at the centre of the garden, lifting the skirt of her gown to ascend the steps.
Set followed, watching her with fascination. 'You agree to this "experiment", then, dear Hathor?'
She closed her parasol and looked at him thoughtfully. 'One hundred lifetimes?'
'One hundred lifetimes endured,' he amended. 'Then your lovers can have their happy ending – if they still want it.'
She seated herself on a luxurious couch, closing her eyes to see the lovers huddling in a gloomy tomb. The same sadness touched her, and she opened her eyes. Set had already disappeared.
'Done,' she whispered to the desert air.