I own and claim no rights to the motion picture, 'The Mummy,' or 'The Mummy
Returns.' Only characters not featured in either movie are created by me,
as well as the plot, and no similarities to any other fics are intended.
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Discovering
.......................................................................
Iset hurried toward the sand dunes. She had risen late and had to prepare a hasty breakfast for her husband. To make up for her absence over the past few weeks, she sent a basket of food with Siamun for he and his brothers to eat when they went on break. Iset adjusted the sheath, as it was rubbing uncomfortably next to the training clothing she had put on underneath so she could immediately begin training instead of wasting more time in changing cloths. She climbed the last dune and looked down. Ardeth, Userib and Bakare were sparring together. Iset inhaled and exhaled deeply. She could just hear the lecture she was going to get for being late. Ardeth was a great man, but strict in the ways of the Medjai. He wanted more than Iset thought she could give, but she wouldn't tell him that. She was more concerned with advancing in her fighting skills. She was getting better at hand-to-hand combat, but sword fighting was still her best skill. As she descended the dune, Ardeth and her brothers heard her approach and looked up. She saw the amusement flicker in Bakare and Userib's eyes, but Ardeth's eyes were only filled with disappointment.
"I am sorry father," Iset told him with a sigh.
Ardeth shook his head. "You must commit yourself to your training. Otherwise I feel we are doing all this for nothing. You have come far in the past months, but in order to become more skillful, you must give yourself to this path. To be a warrior is an important task to the Medjai. Are you ready for the task?"
Iset looked away, then back to them. "Yes father, I am ready to become what I am destined to become. A Medjai warrior."
Bakare let out a whoop, and put his arm around his sister's shoulders. "So...why were you late anyway?"
Iset flushed a deep red against her tan, and all three men chuckled.
............................................................................ ........
Sithathor stared at the dress her husband held in front of him as an offering to her. "You have GOT to be kidding!" she exclaimed.
Alex frowned and looked the dress up and down. "What?"
Sithathor looked at the dress once again. It was a floral print with puffy sleeves and lace on the hem. Though Sithathor did not pretend to know anything about the fashion in England, but even she knew that that hideous monstrosity that he dared call a dress was no where near fashionable. "I don't think so."
"Hathy, we are going to attend a dinner at the Follingsfields, and you have to look your best."
"And that," Sithathor demanded, "would make me look my best?"
Alex sighed. "I wanted to buy you a dress I thought you might look smashing in."
Sithathor's eyebrows rose. "And you chose that?"
"Well I had help from Ursula," he began.
Sithathor shifted her weight. Ah, she thought, now we are getting down to the reason for his stupidity. "Ursula? You went shopping with her?"
Alex shifted. "Of course not. I was shopping and so was she. I told her why I was out in a woman's store and she helped me chose a dress that she thought you would look good in."
"Ha! Alex, sometimes you can be so dense."
"What?"
"Nothing. Look, there is no way in hell that I am wearing that ugly thing. Not even for the Follingsfield dinner, which, by the way, you should never have accepted," Sithathor told him angrily.
"What am I suppose to do? Derek is my friend, and I like his family. Do you want me to tell them "no" each time they ask us to dinner?" he asked.
"In a word? YES!"
Alex shook his head. "You are taking this too seriously."
"Oh really? Ursula is your former female friend Alex. And if she had her way, she would be your wife, not me. Her mother sure as hell feels the same way, and Mr. Follingsfield is to intimidated by his wife and daughter that he would go along with anything." Sithathor pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to deal with them anymore. Your friend Derek is nice, and he treats me with respect, but there is no way I am spending one more second with his family. I would rather be subjected to physical torture, because nothing compares to the torture I feel when I am around them. As for that dress, not only can I not believe that you don't see the hideousness of it, but I can't believe that you would take advice from Ursula on anything that involves me!"
"She is my friend Hathy!"
"She was your lover Alex! She hates my guts and she will do anything to humiliate me. Don't you get it. In the real world it is not all black and white okay. She wants you and I stand in her way, it is as simple as that. Sometimes you are so...AH!" Sithathor turned to stomp off, but Alex blocked her exit.
"Sometimes I am so what?" he asked.
Sithathor sighed. "Alex sometimes you can't see what is right in front of your face." She walked around him and out of the room.
"She's right you know," a small voice added.
Alex turned and watched his sister stand from her hiding place on a couch that hid her earlier. "What do you mean?"
"Ursula won't let this marriage go by lightly. I mean, come on Alex. You left for almost two months and suddenly come back with a wife." Cleo smiled at her brother's confusion. "You, dear brother are being fought over by two women. Well done." Quietly, she walked out of the room to find Sithathor, leaving Alex to re-evaluate the situation.
Cleo found her in the training room, converted by Alex for Sithathor to practice her skills. Hathy was sitting in the middle of the floor, meditating.
"Hathy?" Cleo prompted.
Hathy's eyes snapped open, and she looked over at the little girl. When she realized who called her, she smiled. "Yes Cleo?"
"Don't blame my brother. He always was funny when it came to women. And I do think he want you to be happy. But sometimes he messes things up."
Sithathor smiled bitterly. "Don't worry Cleo, I am not mad at him, just a little disappointed."
Cleo smiled. "Yeah, I would be too. God, that dress was UGLY!"
The two laughed.
............................................................................ ..
Iset wiped her arm across her forehead, removing the sweat from her brow. The heat of the 'kitchen' was beginning to affect her. She was tired from a day of training, and now she was laboring over a fire to prepare her husband's dinner. She smiled as the tent flap opened and her husband walked in. "Hello my husband."
Siamun smiled. "Hello wife." He sniffed in the air. "Something smells good."
Iset smiled. "Yes, I prepared a dish your mother said was one of your favorites."
Siamun laughed. "Ah, a woman after my own heart."
Iset put some of the food into bowls and placed them on the eating mat. She waited for Siamun to eat, then began to stuff herself. Siamun stopped eating after several seconds to watch her. "Uh, Iset?"
"Wha?" Iset asked, her mouth full of food.
"Are you starving or something?"
Iset looked down at her bowl then at her husband. She chewed and swallowed her food. "Ahem. Of course not. I am just really hungry today."
"Have you been doing anything tiring that would make you this hungry?" he asked.
"Umm..." she looked away. "Not really. You know, just normal everyday stuff."
"Iset."
She looked at him.
"You are hiding something from me. Right now I will let it slide, but I WILL find out what it is. I promise you that."
Iset bit her bottom lip, but Siamun had continued eating his food. They ate the rest of their dinner in silence, and Siamun left the tent to speak to his brothers. Later that night, when he returned to the tent, they spent the night turned away from each other. Iset hugged herself in comfort, and listened to the steady breathing of her husband until she herself fell asleep.
............................................................................ ........
"OW! Son of a--!"
Cleo waved her hand frantically, hoping the pain would lessen. In her other hand was a sword. The hand she waved in front of her once held another sword, but she had dropped it. Sithathor watched the young girl cradle her hurt hand.
"I told you to grip your sword firmly Cleo. I barely hit your sword, and you lost your hold." She told the girl.
Cleo nodded. "Yeah, sorry. It is just hard to get used to them is all."
"Ok, assume position four."
Cleo picked up her sword and extended one sword-wielding arm above her, and the other horizontal against her side.
"Alala," Sithathor cried, and attacked.
The nine year old was able to block somewhat, but Sithathor was moving far slower than Cleo had seen her do several days before. "When can I get to kicking people's butt?" she asked, trying to keep her breath.
Sithathor smiled. "When you learn how to defend yourself. You can not attack without knowing how to defend. So, concentrate."
Cleo focused on her swordplay, but after two minutes, Sithathor managed to knock Cleo's sword from her hand again.
"OUCH! Does it have to hurt! Sheesh!"
"The metal is heavy. When you lose your grip, your hand gets punished. Hey, at least your hand doesn't get cut off."
Cleo's eyes widened.
Sithathor laughed. "Enough of this, get back into position."
Cleo repositioned herself. Sithathor gave Cleo this to her credit. She wanted to learn this so much, she refused to give up. Such things were admired. "Ok, ready?"
Cleo nodded.
"ALALA!"
............................................................................ .
Iset moved leisurely toward the dunes, unaware that she was being followed. Several yards away, hidden by the shadows of dunes, Siamun followed his secretive wife to the place that his mother had informed him she headed each day. A seed of suspicion had planted itself in his mind, and all he could see was the hands of that idiot shoulder on his wife. A large flash of dark jealousy coursed through him, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions until he saw the end of her journey.
Iset disappeared over a dune, and Siamun hurriedly climbed it. Halfway to the top, he heard a male voice greeting Iset. Siamun's face darkened in anger. He lay flat on his belly and crawled up the dune. Once at the top he peered over. What he saw bother made him feel relieved and confused. Iset's brothers were there, along with Siamun's father.
Siamun watched as Iset moved to the shadows of the far dune. She disappeared from his view, and several seconds later, she emerged from the shadows. Siamun's blood rose in temperature as his wife came out in scandalous attire, a training suit. As he continued to watch, Iset, Ardeth, Bakare and Userib began training exercises that Siamun had seen often. A red fog entered Siamun's vision. They were teaching his wife to fight as a Medjai warrior. He couldn't continue to watch. He left the dune and returned to the village, fuming. Iset never so much as asked his permission. She lied, deceived him. And not just her. His own father had gone behind his back.
As he entered the village, Sheret sauntered over to him, and smiled. "My dear Siamun."
"Sheret." Siamun greeted with a nod.
"I have missed you," she murmured, her fingers moving seductively down his taunt stomach.
"I haven't missed you," Siamun told her flatly.
Sheret pouted. "Just because you are married doesn't mean we can't satisfy each other. Discretion is not so uncommon."
"I told you Sheret, my wife is the only woman I will bed. It is over."
Sheret smiled. "Yes my love, but having a second wife is not unheard of among the Medjai."
Siamun's eyes hardened. "Don't ever call me that again. I am not your love, nor will I ever be again. I will never take you or anyone as a second wife, you especially."
Sheret's eyes glinted dangerously. "Oh really? And why is that?"
"You are used by the Medjai for pleasure Sheret. You are not worthy to be the wife, or even the second wife of a chieftain."
Sheret's expression hardened.
"Now I am not in the mood for this. I have to prepare for a confrontation, and I don't need your silly little seduction games to get in my way." Siamun walked away.
Sheret stared after him. "If I can't have you, neither can she." She turned and watched as Ahmes and his brothers were preparing to leave for training. She eyed Ahmes closely, and smiled. He was young, only fourteen, but handsome. Sheret laughed to herself. No matter what happened, if she couldn't have the oldest son, then she would have his brother.
Siamun entered his tent and eyed it closely. He noticed a piece of cloth sticking out of the ground from the back of the tent. He dug it out and found ceremonial swords, probably given to Iset by Ardeth. Siamun sighed. He didn't know what he should do, but he would figure it out...and soon.
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A/N: Next chapter coming soon! Take care, and please R/R! Oh, and thank you to RickEvie4eva (thanks for reviewing, I really am very thankful), bringmetolife (I read your stuff, it is very good. And thanks for reviewing!), Lula (I hope life becomes kind again. You take care of yourself, ok? And thanks for reviewing), and Jolynn (Thanks for your review, and I hope I didn't make you wait to long!). Thank you all again, and feedback is really appreciated.
.......................................................................
Discovering
.......................................................................
Iset hurried toward the sand dunes. She had risen late and had to prepare a hasty breakfast for her husband. To make up for her absence over the past few weeks, she sent a basket of food with Siamun for he and his brothers to eat when they went on break. Iset adjusted the sheath, as it was rubbing uncomfortably next to the training clothing she had put on underneath so she could immediately begin training instead of wasting more time in changing cloths. She climbed the last dune and looked down. Ardeth, Userib and Bakare were sparring together. Iset inhaled and exhaled deeply. She could just hear the lecture she was going to get for being late. Ardeth was a great man, but strict in the ways of the Medjai. He wanted more than Iset thought she could give, but she wouldn't tell him that. She was more concerned with advancing in her fighting skills. She was getting better at hand-to-hand combat, but sword fighting was still her best skill. As she descended the dune, Ardeth and her brothers heard her approach and looked up. She saw the amusement flicker in Bakare and Userib's eyes, but Ardeth's eyes were only filled with disappointment.
"I am sorry father," Iset told him with a sigh.
Ardeth shook his head. "You must commit yourself to your training. Otherwise I feel we are doing all this for nothing. You have come far in the past months, but in order to become more skillful, you must give yourself to this path. To be a warrior is an important task to the Medjai. Are you ready for the task?"
Iset looked away, then back to them. "Yes father, I am ready to become what I am destined to become. A Medjai warrior."
Bakare let out a whoop, and put his arm around his sister's shoulders. "So...why were you late anyway?"
Iset flushed a deep red against her tan, and all three men chuckled.
............................................................................ ........
Sithathor stared at the dress her husband held in front of him as an offering to her. "You have GOT to be kidding!" she exclaimed.
Alex frowned and looked the dress up and down. "What?"
Sithathor looked at the dress once again. It was a floral print with puffy sleeves and lace on the hem. Though Sithathor did not pretend to know anything about the fashion in England, but even she knew that that hideous monstrosity that he dared call a dress was no where near fashionable. "I don't think so."
"Hathy, we are going to attend a dinner at the Follingsfields, and you have to look your best."
"And that," Sithathor demanded, "would make me look my best?"
Alex sighed. "I wanted to buy you a dress I thought you might look smashing in."
Sithathor's eyebrows rose. "And you chose that?"
"Well I had help from Ursula," he began.
Sithathor shifted her weight. Ah, she thought, now we are getting down to the reason for his stupidity. "Ursula? You went shopping with her?"
Alex shifted. "Of course not. I was shopping and so was she. I told her why I was out in a woman's store and she helped me chose a dress that she thought you would look good in."
"Ha! Alex, sometimes you can be so dense."
"What?"
"Nothing. Look, there is no way in hell that I am wearing that ugly thing. Not even for the Follingsfield dinner, which, by the way, you should never have accepted," Sithathor told him angrily.
"What am I suppose to do? Derek is my friend, and I like his family. Do you want me to tell them "no" each time they ask us to dinner?" he asked.
"In a word? YES!"
Alex shook his head. "You are taking this too seriously."
"Oh really? Ursula is your former female friend Alex. And if she had her way, she would be your wife, not me. Her mother sure as hell feels the same way, and Mr. Follingsfield is to intimidated by his wife and daughter that he would go along with anything." Sithathor pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to deal with them anymore. Your friend Derek is nice, and he treats me with respect, but there is no way I am spending one more second with his family. I would rather be subjected to physical torture, because nothing compares to the torture I feel when I am around them. As for that dress, not only can I not believe that you don't see the hideousness of it, but I can't believe that you would take advice from Ursula on anything that involves me!"
"She is my friend Hathy!"
"She was your lover Alex! She hates my guts and she will do anything to humiliate me. Don't you get it. In the real world it is not all black and white okay. She wants you and I stand in her way, it is as simple as that. Sometimes you are so...AH!" Sithathor turned to stomp off, but Alex blocked her exit.
"Sometimes I am so what?" he asked.
Sithathor sighed. "Alex sometimes you can't see what is right in front of your face." She walked around him and out of the room.
"She's right you know," a small voice added.
Alex turned and watched his sister stand from her hiding place on a couch that hid her earlier. "What do you mean?"
"Ursula won't let this marriage go by lightly. I mean, come on Alex. You left for almost two months and suddenly come back with a wife." Cleo smiled at her brother's confusion. "You, dear brother are being fought over by two women. Well done." Quietly, she walked out of the room to find Sithathor, leaving Alex to re-evaluate the situation.
Cleo found her in the training room, converted by Alex for Sithathor to practice her skills. Hathy was sitting in the middle of the floor, meditating.
"Hathy?" Cleo prompted.
Hathy's eyes snapped open, and she looked over at the little girl. When she realized who called her, she smiled. "Yes Cleo?"
"Don't blame my brother. He always was funny when it came to women. And I do think he want you to be happy. But sometimes he messes things up."
Sithathor smiled bitterly. "Don't worry Cleo, I am not mad at him, just a little disappointed."
Cleo smiled. "Yeah, I would be too. God, that dress was UGLY!"
The two laughed.
............................................................................ ..
Iset wiped her arm across her forehead, removing the sweat from her brow. The heat of the 'kitchen' was beginning to affect her. She was tired from a day of training, and now she was laboring over a fire to prepare her husband's dinner. She smiled as the tent flap opened and her husband walked in. "Hello my husband."
Siamun smiled. "Hello wife." He sniffed in the air. "Something smells good."
Iset smiled. "Yes, I prepared a dish your mother said was one of your favorites."
Siamun laughed. "Ah, a woman after my own heart."
Iset put some of the food into bowls and placed them on the eating mat. She waited for Siamun to eat, then began to stuff herself. Siamun stopped eating after several seconds to watch her. "Uh, Iset?"
"Wha?" Iset asked, her mouth full of food.
"Are you starving or something?"
Iset looked down at her bowl then at her husband. She chewed and swallowed her food. "Ahem. Of course not. I am just really hungry today."
"Have you been doing anything tiring that would make you this hungry?" he asked.
"Umm..." she looked away. "Not really. You know, just normal everyday stuff."
"Iset."
She looked at him.
"You are hiding something from me. Right now I will let it slide, but I WILL find out what it is. I promise you that."
Iset bit her bottom lip, but Siamun had continued eating his food. They ate the rest of their dinner in silence, and Siamun left the tent to speak to his brothers. Later that night, when he returned to the tent, they spent the night turned away from each other. Iset hugged herself in comfort, and listened to the steady breathing of her husband until she herself fell asleep.
............................................................................ ........
"OW! Son of a--!"
Cleo waved her hand frantically, hoping the pain would lessen. In her other hand was a sword. The hand she waved in front of her once held another sword, but she had dropped it. Sithathor watched the young girl cradle her hurt hand.
"I told you to grip your sword firmly Cleo. I barely hit your sword, and you lost your hold." She told the girl.
Cleo nodded. "Yeah, sorry. It is just hard to get used to them is all."
"Ok, assume position four."
Cleo picked up her sword and extended one sword-wielding arm above her, and the other horizontal against her side.
"Alala," Sithathor cried, and attacked.
The nine year old was able to block somewhat, but Sithathor was moving far slower than Cleo had seen her do several days before. "When can I get to kicking people's butt?" she asked, trying to keep her breath.
Sithathor smiled. "When you learn how to defend yourself. You can not attack without knowing how to defend. So, concentrate."
Cleo focused on her swordplay, but after two minutes, Sithathor managed to knock Cleo's sword from her hand again.
"OUCH! Does it have to hurt! Sheesh!"
"The metal is heavy. When you lose your grip, your hand gets punished. Hey, at least your hand doesn't get cut off."
Cleo's eyes widened.
Sithathor laughed. "Enough of this, get back into position."
Cleo repositioned herself. Sithathor gave Cleo this to her credit. She wanted to learn this so much, she refused to give up. Such things were admired. "Ok, ready?"
Cleo nodded.
"ALALA!"
............................................................................ .
Iset moved leisurely toward the dunes, unaware that she was being followed. Several yards away, hidden by the shadows of dunes, Siamun followed his secretive wife to the place that his mother had informed him she headed each day. A seed of suspicion had planted itself in his mind, and all he could see was the hands of that idiot shoulder on his wife. A large flash of dark jealousy coursed through him, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions until he saw the end of her journey.
Iset disappeared over a dune, and Siamun hurriedly climbed it. Halfway to the top, he heard a male voice greeting Iset. Siamun's face darkened in anger. He lay flat on his belly and crawled up the dune. Once at the top he peered over. What he saw bother made him feel relieved and confused. Iset's brothers were there, along with Siamun's father.
Siamun watched as Iset moved to the shadows of the far dune. She disappeared from his view, and several seconds later, she emerged from the shadows. Siamun's blood rose in temperature as his wife came out in scandalous attire, a training suit. As he continued to watch, Iset, Ardeth, Bakare and Userib began training exercises that Siamun had seen often. A red fog entered Siamun's vision. They were teaching his wife to fight as a Medjai warrior. He couldn't continue to watch. He left the dune and returned to the village, fuming. Iset never so much as asked his permission. She lied, deceived him. And not just her. His own father had gone behind his back.
As he entered the village, Sheret sauntered over to him, and smiled. "My dear Siamun."
"Sheret." Siamun greeted with a nod.
"I have missed you," she murmured, her fingers moving seductively down his taunt stomach.
"I haven't missed you," Siamun told her flatly.
Sheret pouted. "Just because you are married doesn't mean we can't satisfy each other. Discretion is not so uncommon."
"I told you Sheret, my wife is the only woman I will bed. It is over."
Sheret smiled. "Yes my love, but having a second wife is not unheard of among the Medjai."
Siamun's eyes hardened. "Don't ever call me that again. I am not your love, nor will I ever be again. I will never take you or anyone as a second wife, you especially."
Sheret's eyes glinted dangerously. "Oh really? And why is that?"
"You are used by the Medjai for pleasure Sheret. You are not worthy to be the wife, or even the second wife of a chieftain."
Sheret's expression hardened.
"Now I am not in the mood for this. I have to prepare for a confrontation, and I don't need your silly little seduction games to get in my way." Siamun walked away.
Sheret stared after him. "If I can't have you, neither can she." She turned and watched as Ahmes and his brothers were preparing to leave for training. She eyed Ahmes closely, and smiled. He was young, only fourteen, but handsome. Sheret laughed to herself. No matter what happened, if she couldn't have the oldest son, then she would have his brother.
Siamun entered his tent and eyed it closely. He noticed a piece of cloth sticking out of the ground from the back of the tent. He dug it out and found ceremonial swords, probably given to Iset by Ardeth. Siamun sighed. He didn't know what he should do, but he would figure it out...and soon.
****************************************************
A/N: Next chapter coming soon! Take care, and please R/R! Oh, and thank you to RickEvie4eva (thanks for reviewing, I really am very thankful), bringmetolife (I read your stuff, it is very good. And thanks for reviewing!), Lula (I hope life becomes kind again. You take care of yourself, ok? And thanks for reviewing), and Jolynn (Thanks for your review, and I hope I didn't make you wait to long!). Thank you all again, and feedback is really appreciated.