The Heart's Truth
.
...
for ML Staff Appreciation Week: Day Four
...
.
Chapter Two
"You did not have to come."
Marineith hesitated at the dark archway, torchlight flickering in her blue eyes, but then she stepped through it, sandals clicking sharply against stone. The lighting was dim this deep inside of the Pharaoh's grand palace, lit only by the intricately-carved torches lining the hallways and the equally detailed candles set up inside the room.
"Is there anything I can do to help, master?" she asked, ignoring her teacher's previous statement. Marineith took in the room's appearance: tall ceiling, as was to be expected in any wealthy Egyptian home, with colorful hieroglyphics decorating the walls, depicting tales of past kings and queens of Egypt and their legacies. In such dim lighting, the colors were subdued, and the letters impossible to make out. Pressed against a wall to her right was a large bed, propped high and drowning in rich linen covers and drapes. And in the center of the bed lay the great Queen herself, her usually tall form quite still. Queen Ankhesenamun was renowned for her beauty and grace, but in the dark lights, she looked far too pale and thin than could be considered healthy. After watching her for a few moments, Marineith caught the steady rise and fall of her chest, surprisingly stable for someone who was supposed to be in such a terrible state.
Despite the bright, warm fires flickering all around her, Marineith couldn't help but shiver.
Merit Ptah sat on the edge of the bed, gently holding the Queen's hand, but as Marineith started to move closer, she stood, placing the Queen's hand softly on the bed and adjusting the covers on her body before turning to face her pupil. Merit Ptah's eyes were strikingly bright against the dimness of the room, fiery honey-flicked gold reflecting candlelight as she gestured to the hallway.
"No, Marineith," she replied. "There is nothing you can offer that I have not already seen to. But it was good of you to join me. Come," she said, placing her hand on Marineith's back and guiding her pupil out of the room, "Let us walk, and leave the Queen to her rest. It is much needed."
They exited under the archway of the Queen's room and headed down the hallway together in relative silence besides the sounds of their sandals clicking against the ground. Marineith trailed slightly behind Merit Ptah, leaving it to her teacher to lead the way. Like the Queen's room, the hallways were also adorned with hieroglyphics, and these Marineith could read clearly: stories of the Gods, the tales they left to the people of Egypt to pass on through generations.
She caught sight of Sekhmet's name, the tell-tale symbol of the midday sun in blood-red paint automatically drawing Marineith's eye. Marineith saw the beginnings of a description of the Goddess' wrath, and then she looked away.
The hall veered sharply to the right, and then became a set of stairs leading downwards. It was only when they reached these stairs that Merit Ptah stopped dead in her tracks, eyes glancing along the wall as if intrigued by something on it.
"The former Queen's name was your namesake, yes?" she asked. "Merineith, the mother of our Pharaoh?" Marineith blinked, surprised by the turn of the conversation, but nodded.
"Yes," she answered. "One summer, she extended a blessing to all children born in Egypt, and the next crop season, I was brought into the world." She smiled, memories of reed-guarded Nile banks brushing against her mind like a breeze against fields of grass. "It was an easy birth, my mother said. My parents were grateful to the Queen for her blessing, so they named me in her honor."
So that good fortune will always follow in your wake, as it did when you were born, her mother used to tell her every night as she tucked her into bed.
"Mm," Merit Ptah hummed. Her fingers reached out and traced a word; Marineith saw it was another red-colored symbol of Sekhmet's. "My son was also born that year." Merit Ptah's fingers skimmed along the text lining the wall, as if reading. "The blessing was issued to all of Egypt, but the Queen meant it specifically for my husband and I, so that Adrestus might be born safely. When she passed away three years later, I still felt as if I hadn't expressed my gratitude enough." She paused, her finger coming to rest for a moment against the wall. "Adrestus' father did not understand how honored I was by the former Queen's gesture. In his homeland, the leader of the people is not a God, nor his wives Goddesses, or his children Gods. They are only mortal men."
Marineith thought about Adrestus, who looked so much like his mother, with strong, broad shoulders and tall stature and long, graceful features; even the upturn of his lips and the breathy start of his laughter were Merit Ptah's.
But his hair was blond, the color of sun-crisped reeds, and his eyes were green, with only flecks of his mother's honey colored eyes dabbled inside his own. Those features alone marked him as descended from a foreigner; few Egyptians had such green-colored eyes.
After a few moments, Marineith spoke."Even our godly Pharaoh is mortal," she said gently.
Merit Ptah's eyes stared long and hard at Marineith. The force of the gaze made Marineith want to squirm or fidget the way she used to when she first started as a student under Merit Ptah, but she refrained from doing so, and stared fearlessly right back into her master''s golden eyes.
"So he is," Merit Ptah said finally, before she returned her attention to the wall. She tapped it twice.
"The blessings of the Gods are written here," she said. "Not all of them are things the Pharaoh or his scribes could properly understand. These here are Sekhmet's teachings." Her finger traced a few lines. "These are words addressed only to practitioners of the art of medicine." Merit Ptah turned away from the hieroglyphs on the walls, turning to fix her student with a serious expression.
"Sekhmet is also a Goddess of Death." Merit Ptah's eyes glanced down the hallway, towards the Queen's quarters, and Marineith had to repress another shiver. "The Goddess who gives us the power to cure does not extend the gift of life for everyone. She is also wrathful and destructive."
Marineith's throat was unusually dry.
"Queen Ankhesenamun..." she started, words barely above a whisper.
Merit Ptah's eyes were steely, and her voice sharp, when she cut her student off.
"We should not linger here." Merit Ptah stepped quickly forward, going down the stairs, and after collecting her thoughts and casting a final glance towards the wall bearing Sekhmet's symbol and another to the dimly-lit archway of the Queen's room before following her master.
She was grateful when she found Adrestus was still loitering outside the palace doors. His features perked up when he caught sight of his mother and her student leaving the Pharaoh's palace, and grinned widely. Seeing his smile made dark, looming thoughts disappear from the forefront of her mind.
"It's been too long," he said, sliding into step beside Marineith. "I missed you both."
"I wasn't even gone for more than a few minutes," Marineith said, mock exasperation in her voice.
"You were gone for quite a while, actually," Adrestus said, sighing and placing a hand over his heart. "Those were the longest thirty-two minutes of my life."
"You timed me?" Marineith asked, slightly appalled.
"I see someone has been neglecting his studies," Merit Ptah said, her voice taking on a warmer quality that Marineith had only ever heard her extend to those close to her. "I thought I raised a smarter boy than that."
Adrestus laughed. "I finished lessons early today," he said. "There's only so much you can re-teach when it comes to hieroglyphs, you know."
His mother granted him a rare smile. "I'm well aware, my boy," she said, and then she nodded to Marineith. "Thank you for bringing her. I know she didn't find her way inside without your help."
"My pleasure," he replied. "If it's for Marineith, I'd sail past the sunrise and back."
"Charming," Marineith replied sarcastically.
Merit Ptah rolled her eyes. "Ah, to be young," she said. "Evening will fall soon. I would love to join you for dinner, but I have unfinished business here," she said, tilting her head towards the Pharaoh's palace. "Stay safe on your way home."
"Will do," Adrestus said. "May the Gods blessings be with you." Then he grinned, grabbed Marineith's hand, and practically pulled her behind him as he took off at a run.
"What the – Adrestus!" Marineith cried, startled, nearly losing her balance as she tried to keep up with him. "Slow down, you idiot!"
He laughed and stopped so suddenly that she ran into his back, and she pulled back with a slightly throbbing nose and a scowl.
"Sorry," he apologized, having the decency to look a little guilty. "I'm just really happy I get to spend some time with you." He leaned towards her, not noticing the way she leaned backwards away from him. "With just the two of us."
"You'll spend even less time with me if you keep that up," she warned, rubbing her nose. He leaned back quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sorry," he said again. Then he pointed down the emptying streets. "Let's go that way."
Marineith squinted, trying to recall if that was the road they'd come down on their way here, but she couldn't remember, so she nodded with a resigned sigh. Even as Ladybug, she rarely found herself so close to the Pharaoh's living residence, so she had little choice but to trust in Adrestus.
She didn't find that all to hard to do.
The way his eyes lit up at her answer made Marineith's heart skip a beat.
They walked for what felt like hours, past open stalls selling jewelry and foods and finely-painted trinkets of wood and glass, the sounds of market bartering drowned out by the sound of Adrestus' voice, and eventually Marineith forgot her surroundings altogether. Adrestus had a way of talking to her that always made her forget where she was or who was listening. It didn't matter if the Pharaoh himself were watching; if her blue eyes met his green ones, she'd find the rest of the world starting to fade away around them as she stared into his eyes, trying to count the flecks of gold speckled in them.
There was only one other person who had the same effect.
They fell into comfortable conversation; she talked about her morning lesson with Merit Ptah, about how important today had been for her before circumstances had changed her lessons for the day, and he talked about how boring it was to be an apprenticed scribe and how lovely she looked in the setting sun's light. She danced around the subject of the Akuma attack when it came up, not wanting anything of her identity to slip, but Adrestus seemed to avoid the topic, too; she was grateful for that.
It was only when some sand scratched against the inside of her toes that she was brought back to reality. She looked down, saw the brick road had turned to sand, and looked up. They were nearly at the edge of the Pharaoh's inner city: beyond it were small fields, no doubt tended to by farming families like the one she'd grown up in, and the Nile stretched far away across the horizon, a small, blue-green thread of frayed fabric against a backdrop of pale, yellow sand and sunset pinks and golds.
It was breathtaking.
"Sorry for bringing you out this far," Adrestus said. "But it's pretty, and I know you like the Nile. You can see it from here, so I wanted to show you."
She found her eyes drawn to the almost shy grin on his face, wearing a genuine smile as he waited for her to say something.
And she wanted to. Marineith wanted to thank him, wanted to say a million different things to him, but she was suddenly afraid that if she started to speak, everything might come tumbling out all at once, a messy flood of secrets and feelings that she wasn't sure she was ready to share yet, even with herself.
So she pursed her lips and forced her eyes back to the horizon, waiting for her heart to calm down ever so slightly before taking a shaky breath to speak.
"Thank you," she said softly. "It is really pretty."
She wasn't supposed to feel this way about him. He was nobility. His mother's brother was the leader of Pharaoh's army, and his mother herself was Pharaoh's highest appointed physician. Even if she was training under Merit Ptah, Marineith's status was far below his, and always would be, because she didn't come from a long line of leaders or merchants.
She came from two simple farmers who married for love and lived in poverty along the Nile's banks.
And besides all that, her heart belonged to someone else.
So when his long fingers brushed against hers, she lurched her arm back, eyes flying accusingly towards Adrestus. Guilt crept onto his face as he retracted his hand, along with a hurt expression.
"Marine-"
"What did your mother mean when she said she had unfinished business?" she asked, doing her best to ignore the aching in her heart. Her voice was sharper than she'd intended it to be, her words more clipped, and she knew it was obvious that she was forcing a change in their conversation topic, but she didn't have a choice.
She couldn't keep talking about this. Not with him.
Adrestus hesitated, and then looked towards the setting sun.
"She means King Tutankhamen," he said. "She was summoned to the palace to save the Queen. She has a duty to tell him about her condition, and..."
"...And if she's going to make it," Marineith finished, sadness lacing her words. She couldn't imagine having to deliver that kind of news to anyone. She hoped she would never have to.
"Hopefully she'll get better," Adrestus said, and he reassuringly patted Marineith on the back. "If there's anyone who can get her back on her feet, it's my mom." He grinned. "She's the best physician in all of Egypt."
Marineith smiled back.
"Of course she is," she replied. "I wouldn't be studying with her if she wasn't."
"I believe it," Adrestus said. "You know, she thinks you've got potential."
She blinked. "Well, I don't think she would have taken me on as a pupil if I didn't."
"Well, yes, of course," Adrestus said, "But she thinks you could someday surpass her in skill."
That came as a surprise.
"Really?" she asked, smile broadening hopefully. Merit Ptah had always acknowledged Marineith's quick mind and sharp intellect. But to think that her teacher thought she could become Egypt's next best physician...!
"Yes," Adrestus said. "Really."
Marineith couldn't help the giddy giggle that bubbled out from between her lips.
"That makes this day a lot better," she told him. "That and the view," she added, pointing to the horizon. "Thank you, Adrestus."
He shrugged, smiling back at her. Her heart stopped just long enough for butterflies to start fluttering all at once in her stomach.
"You're welcome, Marineith."
Once the pinks in the sky had turned to lilac and then pale purple, Adrestus and Marineith headed back to Merit Ptah's palace. Once inside, Marineith quickly went to her quarters, grabbing a sugary snack for her Kwami and a candle for light as she went. Her rooms were near Adrestus' (a fact she both resented and enjoyed, depending on her mood), but she didn't run into him on her way there. (She did not miss the twinge of disappointment her heart gave her, but she did choose to ignore it.)
"I can't believe Merit Ptah thinks so highly of me!" she gushed as soon as she pulled the drape on her doorway closed. She put the candle on the windowsill, and considered leaning dreamily out the window. But she thought better of it, spinning around in circles and laughing instead.
"Congratulations, Marineith," her Kwami cheered, circling around her to snatch the snack from Marineith's outstretched hand. Tikki settled down on the bed in the corner of the room, and Marineith approached her, looking down excitedly.
"This is a dream come true!" Marineith declared. "I mean yes, okay, I didn't get to treat a patient today." Which was disappointing, because she'd been looking so, so forward to it, and skipped lunch for it, and stayed up late for weeks practicing and studying for it. "But knowing Merit Ptah believes in me is more than enough to make me content."
"I agree!" Tikki said. "For now, it's enough to know you have what it takes to succeed. You've just got to keep up your hard work."
"Mhm!" Marineith slipped off the heavy jewelry decorating her skin, relieved when its weight was gone. Then she joined Tikki on the bed, snuggling happily into the sheets. "Knowing my teacher, she'll probably have a new patient lined up for me tomorrow, anyways."
"Yup, probably so!" giggled Tikki, who gobbled down the rest of her treat before hovering closer to Marineith's face. "You should get some rest, too. You'll need the energy."
Marineith laughed, cupping the Kwami in her hands and hugging her gently.
"I could say the same to you, Tikki," she replied. "You need to rest more than I do. I'll be fine." Still, Marineith lay down, settling her Kwami comfortably against the cushioned bed.
"Good night, Marineith," Tikki mumbled. The Kwami's breathing evened out quickly, but Marineith found herself restless, her thoughts drifting from Merit Ptah to the Queen's condition.
The air drifting through her open window was chilly, even with the curtains drawn, and when Marineith shivered, she couldn't help but remember Merit Ptah's words in the cold, torch-lit hallways.
The Goddess who gives us the power to cure does not extend the gift of life for everyone.
;) Told ya I'd be updating this throughout the day. WHOAH OH MY GOD 3K WORDS. HOLY MOLY.
I don't usually write this much for just one chapter, so I'm rather proud of it. owo
Happy Turkey Day! Don't worry about diets for today - just eat until you're happy.
xoxoPigTails