Tomb of Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story from The Mummy (1999) except for my OCs.

Terms to Know:

Narmer: Egypt's first Pharaoh. He was a warrior who initially united the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of Ancient Egypt. The Narmer palette is a palette that depicts his victories over his usurpers.

Ra: Falcon Headed God of the Sun. Creator of the Earth, Heavens, and Underworld.

Scorpion King: The Scorpion King may be another name for Pharaoh Narmer. If they are not one and the same, King Scorpion was a King who lived in the Old Kingdom (circa 3000 BCE).

Seth: God of Chaos, the Desert, Sandstorms, and Tricksters.

Seti: The name Seti means "Of Set(h)."

"The worst things: To be in bed and sleep not, To want for one who comes not, To try to please and please not." ~Ancient Egyptian Proverb

Hamunaptra, Summer, 1294~

Imhotep stood at the edge of the dig site. His men had been working on this project for a fortnight. He was its sole overseer. Seti had insisted that Imhotep take his funds and use them to create a lavish burial site for him, no matter the cost. It had taken Imhotep months to draw up plans that he was satisfied with, and even then, he wasn't sure it was good enough.

Imhotep was at a crossroads in his life. Seti was his oldest friend in the world. The boy King with whom he had broken bread with. The man who he had fought side by side in battle with. Even cried over the deaths of family and friends with. But now his heart felt different. He wasn't sure what had changed. All he knew was that hardness was growing within him toward his friend. It confused him.

Of course, Imhotep knew that he was loyal to a fault and that Seti took advantage of it. But he had always overlooked it. He was the Pharaoh, and Imhotep was his oldest friend. What could be wrong with that? But things had been in an uproar since the tiny dancer with the dark eyes had graced the shores of this side of the Nile. It had started quietly until it was now a raging storm within him. Things needed to change, but they wouldn't. And Imhotep knew that.

When Seti came to him asking him to build his final resting place, he felt overjoyed. But now the project felt sinister. Dark. Like Seti's death was all Imhotep was now waiting for. Everything was wrong. Imhotep gritted his teeth against the burning sun. He thought of Ancksunamun, her kind smile and passionate eyes, which were now dampened. Anger gripped him.

The last time he had seen her, he had abandoned her at the foot of Seti's bed. He had left her there to die, and he knew it. But there was nothing he could have done. Letting out a frustrated growl, he turned around on the sandbank he stood on and startled.

"Ay, Lord Imhotep," bowed his top builder.

Recovering quickly, Imhotep wiped the crusty sand from his brow and spit. "What is it, Ottah?"

Ottah brushed sweat from his own brow. "I reckon me and the workers deserve a break now, yeah?"

Imhotep looked at the sun. He hadn't even registered how late in the afternoon it had grown.

"Ra has a way of sneaking up on you, doesn't he? My apologies Ottah. Take your men to the watering hole and cool off," Imhotep bowed at the man and grabbed for his water.

"Oh, thank you, you are most kind, Lord Imhotep," Ottah bowed and ran off to tell the others.

Imhotep shook his head and realized that the headache that he so often had at home was now returning. It had been gone for quite some time, and it had gathered strength since he had been away from Thebes. It puzzled him. If I am such a great healer, why can't I figure this out? Imhotep scoffed at himself. He took a sip of water, hoping it was just dehydration.

Grabbing his things, he shuffled down off of his sandy perch. Making his way to the lower chambers to inspect the work of the painters, his head throbbed.

Reaching one of the anterior rooms, Imhotep exhaled in wonder. The cooler air of the antechamber was doing wonders for his head.

"Najja, you've outdone yourself. It's exquisite."

Najja startled at his footsteps and turned around, palette in hand.

"Oh, thank you, my Liege. It is nowhere near finished."

The wall they were looking at was a splendid scene of Seti in battle, smiting his enemies. He was depicted in the style of Narmer, the original Scorpion King. He was one of Seti's biggest heroes.

"It is incredible, Najja. I know that he will be pleased. You may take a break if you so wish."

The small painter turned to him. His kohl-lined eyes were elaborately decorated with malachite, and his lips in carmine. "No, a real artist doesn't allow his genius to run away from him. I must continue."

Imhotep raised his eyebrow and chuckled, "If you say so."

Najja pursed his lips and nodded, returning to work on his art. Imhotep huffed and went to see what others had completed in their time here. The work had been swift. The builders he had hired for the job were some of the best in the region. They were more than excited to move their families to Hamunaptra to start right away.

The village nearby was bustling with women and children. Many of the young boys wanted to build like their fathers. They often came to him, begging him for a chance. But he couldn't risk harming a child. It was not in his nature. The men on his job were sturdy, tough laborers. They could cut through stone and haul it through the desert, all in a day's work. It made Imhotep proud.

Imhotep noted that many scribes had left their trash from lunch scattered around. They were nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he picked up their remains and made to leave the chamber. Stopping in front of a passage on the far right wall, Imhotep read the painted inscription.

"Lord Seti, Master of Craftsman. Master of Battle. Master of the Sands. Beloved of Seth." Below it was a small cartouche with the name of the Queen, and Imhotep sighed. The Pharaoh had nothing written for Tua-Re; only her name was on the wall. Nothing more, nothing less. Women were commodities to him, playthings.

His heart was heavy as he exited the cool hole in the ground. The suffocating heat once again enveloped him like an old friend. But it was no consolation. His mind was not on the weather. His mind's eye was filled with the vision of Ancksunamun standing before Seti. Her eyes had been large, terrified, and she had opened her mouth to speak. Imhotep hadn't been able to bear it. To hear her sweet, innocent voice beg him to save her. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to say no.

Imhotep grabbed a chisel from the ground and began to hack away at a rock, not bothering to watch what he was doing. All he could focus on was the way her eyes had watched after him in shock. The hurt on her face had scarred him.

Days after it had happened, he saw her again and could not bear looking at her. It was too painful. That look of hurt marred her features again, and it was all Imhotep could see. Hacking away at the stone, he yelled in anger at his cowardice. His inability to think of what Seti had done to her… Imhotep slid down the rock he had been chipping away at and held his hands to his chest. Looking up at the blue sky, he cursed the Gods.

"Why must you always coddle the evil ones? Why can you not spare the ones with good in their hearts?" He received no answer. In one last act of anger, he began to mutilate the rock face again.

Crying out in pain as he slashed open his hand, he dropped to the sand, holding it. It was the same wound he had caused himself weeks ago. It didn't matter, though. None of it mattered. Sliding back against the rock, Imhotep closed his eyes. His face was matted with dried sand, and his hand oozed onto the hot sand. The sun beat down overhead, and his eyes began to feel heavy.

Imhotep felt as if he was hallucinating with his accursed headache raging in his temples. As he closed his eyes, he was sure a woman was walking towards him. Her curvy body and long black hair swirled around her waist as she approached him. Ancksunamun… His eyes slipped closed, and everything went dark.

Cool water ran down in rivulets on Imhotep's forehead, and he awoke with a gasp. Imhotep's eyes looked around, grabbing for whatever was running down his face. He was no longer at Hamunaptra. He was lying down on a crude bed. This was not his house.

Sitting up, Imhotep groaned as he put pressure on his hand. Looking down, it was heavily bandaged, as were his temples.

"What's going on here?" Imhotep said aloud.

"Good, you're finally awake," came a stern voice behind him.

Imhotep sat up and turned around. A dark-skinned woman in a long skirt watched him from afar. Her long dark hair reached her waist, and she sat at a makeshift table, preparing food.

Imhoteps mouth gaped open and closed.

"I saw you out there acting like a jackass. When I saw you pass out, I brought you home," the woman said, her movements quick as she pulled apart a head of cabbage.

Imhotep nodded, embarrassment taking hold. So someone had seen that?

Rubbing his temples, he replied, "I'm sorry you had to see that. I was behind on work. It needed to be done ."

The woman looked at him reproachfully. "Of course, and I was born yesterday." She began to chop other vegetables on the table as she said so.

Imhotep watched her fast movements, growing nervous. "What did you see then?"

The woman threw back her head and laughed. "I saw a broken down middle-aged man having a breakdown over…. let me guess…" she threw some of her vegetables in a pot and then looked back at him, her eyebrows raised. "A woman?"

Imhotep looked away, ashamed that he had shown his emotions in the open.

The strange woman laughed, "I know my way around a heartbreak. I didn't know that the Pharaoh's Vizier was so besotted by someone."

Imhotep sat up straighter at that, "What makes you so sure I'm besotted with someone?"

The woman laughed, "Honey, as I told you, I wasn't born yesterday. I'm a woman myself. I know how emotions work. Now, sit up, wash up, and come help me with supper, and we'll talk more later."

Imhotep leaned back in his chair, content and full. He had never had such hearty cooking in his life. The food at the palace was bland, always the same. Fatty with no sustenance. It was fitting for Seti.

The woman's name was Meri, and she had come to the village hoping to find work for her eldest son. Her other son was employed by the Pharaoh as a Medjai. In the interim, she had set up a makeshift tent in the village, offering men a fortune reading based on their palms. Imhotep thought it was all a load of crocodile dung, but he had indulged her nonetheless.

"I make a study of the stars, of the Gods, and how they can warn us of impending omens. You're telling me you can read a man's palm and do the same?" Imhotep asked, chuckling a little.

Meri looked up at him. Her dark eyes were annoyed. Imhotep handed her his palm, and she pushed it away.

"You men, always playing the jokester. I cannot read a scarred palm covered in gauze. Give me the other one."

Imhotep cracked a smile. It was good to have a change of pace. He never did anything but work. A part of him felt guilty. Handing her his other hand, he watched as she turned it over and observed the lines in his hands. Tutting to her herself, she traced every line, occasionally looking up at him and smiling.

Imhotep felt a flash of desire go through him each time she did. Her rich skin glowed in the candlelight, and her large smile felt as if she radiated sunlight. Guilt riddled him. He shouldn't be enjoying himself like this. He thought of Ancksunamun, and his heart gave a painful squeeze. Putting her out of his mind, he focused on Meri and waited for her to tell him what she saw.

Meri sat back, her face serious. "Well, I was right about you…You are a passionate man. There is a lot of love within you. But I see trouble too. A heavy heart, a man of many secrets."

Imhotep swallowed.

"What secrets are you hiding from yourself, Lord Imhotep?" Meri asked, tracing his hand once more, her large eyes trained on his.

"Nothing…I don't think," he replied, his voice cracking.

Meri hummed in response. "You hold a lot of pain within you. Someday this will explode."

Imhotep swallowed again, "And what does all this mean?"

Meri looked up, playing with his fingers. "It means that you are a lonely man with a heart of gold. And a mysterious one at that…" her plump lips spoke.

Through the candlelight, Imhotep felt parts of himself come alive. "What do I do about it?"

"Don't fight them anymore…." Meri said, her voice low. "Come with me…."

Taking his hand, she led him from the room, her hips swaying before him. Imhoteps bruised heart beat hard in his chest, and he didn't fight back. He allowed her to lead him away.

Early Fall~

Each day was the same for Ancksunamun. Nothing had gotten better since she had become Seti's favorite concubine. Waking up, she was expected to pleasure him, then they "enjoyed" breakfast together. This was before she was expected to satisfy his desires once or twice more before the day started. It was now a routine to her. She shut off her emotions and went through the motions. But it was not all bad. There were the lavish gifts he bestowed upon her. As well as the wheat, barley, onions, beer, and wine he sent to her parents. It was a satisfactory arrangement, she supposed.

The only caveat was the pain in her heart she harbored. After she had given herself away to Seti, Imhotep disappeared. She had no idea where he had gone and wanted to know. Having her own team of servants was helpful, as she could overhear their gossip.

"Lord Imhotep has been sent away. He is building the Pharaoh's final resting place. What a great honor!" Ancksunamun had overheard one day.

Her emotions toward him were secret. She hoped and prayed that he would one day return and save her from the hell she found herself in. But another part of her knew he would never save her. The disgusted way he had looked at her when he had left her at the foot of Seti's bed… was a feeling she would never forget.

Lost in her thoughts as she sat at the dinner table, she was startled. A familiar heat stood behind her. Her heart leaped in her chest. Was it him? A large, soft hand reached out for her own and left a sloppy kiss on the back of it. Her stomach dropped. It was not.

"My Jewel…what has got you so somber this evening? Surely you are not unhappy?" Seti asked, the question poised sweetly.

Ancksunamun sighed and smiled, "No, my dearest Pharaoh, I am not unhappy. I just did not sleep well last night." She knew she did not sound convincing.

Seti tutted and looked at her with false empathy before starting to eat. Ancksunamuns hands folded back down onto her lap. She was not very hungry at all. A strange feeling washed over her as she sat there. It started in her toes and spread through her entire body. It came alive, feeling electric and saccharine all at once. Looking up, she searched the crowd around her, seeing nothing new. She sighed again and pushed her food around on her plate, excited for the day to end.

A whoosh of warm air graced the back of her head, and her head shot up again. A wall of Medjai appeared, and Ancksunmaun swallowed. He's here! That familiar aura washed over her again, awakening her spirit. The sea of guards parted, and her heart leaped. His face was stoic, elegant, and cold. Seti waved him to sit next to them, food in his maw.

"Imhotep! Old friend! Come join me! You have brought wondrous news, I hope?"

Imhotep's face was like stone, and he nodded at Seti before sitting next to them. He did not look in her direction once. Am I that revolting to him now? Ancksunamun looked down at her lap once more, definitely not in the mood for food any longer.

A deep voice shook her from her thoughts as his timbre washed over her.

"Yes, Seti, the project is on its way. We will discuss the logistics of it at a later time. There are some rather… conspicuous things we must prepare for…." Imhotep's voice dropped low, his eyes roving the table.

Seti, obtuse, spoke in his usual booming manner. "Splendid! Splendid! Yes…we must protect what is mine, right? Good...now…" Seti grabbed Ancksunamuns shoulders, startling her from her reverie. "I would like your opinion on this little woman…is she not the most decadent creature you ever saw?"

Ancksunamuns eyes widened as Imhotep made eye contact with her. His eyes looked her over.

"Yes, she is quite nice, my friend," Imhotep said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Come now! I want to know more than that!" Seti egged him on. His voice was jovial.

"Your matters regarding your concubines are not my own. Seti, you know this. It is of little concern to me what your doxy looks like."

Ancksunamuns cheeks burned in embarrassment. Imhotep's words rang in her ears from the weeks prior. "You are not a whore! You are special!" Hurt radiated through her, and her stomach cramped up. Turning her eyes downcast, she looked down at her hands, playing with her fingers. Shame and anger coursed through her. Why did he lie to me? Just to come back and treat me like a common street tramp? It's all a game to him, isn't it?

Seti's laughter broke her from her thoughts. "She is a little minx in the bedroom though, my greatest friend. If only you knew."

Ancksunamun could feel the Vizier's eyes on her once more, burning a hole through her.

"Yes, quite, I'm sure," Imhotep replied, uninterested.

The rest of the night passed by. Ancksunmaun took no part in it. As she lay in bed later that evening, she listened to Seti's whistling snores with contempt. Rolling over, her thoughts raced. How was she to get herself out of this mess? The Priest was not someone she could rely on. His words and his promises meant nothing to her. In fact, she was growing to hate him too.

Early Winter, 1293~

Imhotep paced in his chambers. His thoughts were no longer on his work but on the dark-eyed Goddess. How she looked at him now pierced his heart, but he knew it was for the best. She couldn't know the true depth of his emotions for her. It would only give her false hope. With Seti in the way, there was nothing that Imhotep or anyone could do to save her. It made his blood boil.

Occasionally she would make eye contact with him from afar. His heart would sputter to life, the hope eating him alive. Each time he was near her, his body felt on fire. The more he tore himself away, the more his head and his heart hurt. It puzzled him. Why did she have such a grasp on him?

Each day that passed, it grew harder and harder for Imhotep to be around Seti. Even looking at his oldest friend made his blood boil. He knew what Seti subjected women too, and Imhotep had already seen the change in Ancksunamun. Her spirit was dampened, and it enraged him. There was nothing he could do. It was in the God's hands now.

The Gods, he chortled in his mind. He was becoming more and more skeptical of their love for humanity. Each day that passed, he grew increasingly weary of his worship to them. But in his heart, he still held onto the hope that they had humanity's best interests in mind. Praying to and devoting his life to them was beginning to feel like a chore. It was not one that he particularly felt any excitement to do. It was as if his whole world had been turned upside down.

His migraine of the day was already pounding in his temples as he paced his room. He was late for this morning's daily grievance meeting with the townspeople. But Imhotep could not bring himself to be before Seti right now. Even the man's name left him irate. Imhotep kept picturing what would happen with Seti out of the way, and the idea grew on him more and more.

A knocking at his chamber door startled him from his murderous train of thought, and he looked up. A small servant stood in the doorway, wringing his hands.

"My Lord? There is a woman here to see you," the small man said. "Shall I bring her in?"

Imhotep's heart leaped in joy. Was it her? Had she come to call on him? "Send her in," Imhotep decreed, waving his hand to dismiss him.

Imhotep turned around and leaned on his small table. He wanted to collect his thoughts before Ancksuamun came in. What was he to say to her? How could he even begin to apologize for how horridly he had been treating her? There was nothing he could do. All he wanted to do was hold her.

Arms snaked around his waist, and Imhotep shivered at the contact. He spun around, "Ancksー." He started before stopping.

"Not quite," Meri said, backing up, her arms crossed over her chest. Walking towards him again, her thick hips swayed, and she reached up to touch his face. "Let me guess, I'm the wrong woman you wanted to see?"

Imhotep stared back at her, his lips parted in surprise. "Meri! You're here!" He chuckled, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it.

"Very funny, Lord Imhotep," Meri said as she pulled away and walked over to his armoire, where he kept his alcohol. Pouring herself a small cup of wine, she leaned against the table, her face serious.

"I'm not even going to ask who you thought I was, though I am very tempted. I wanted to say hello to you before I went to see my son. I was hoping…" she swirled her cup, "That you and I could catch up before I did so, but I see you are not in the mood."

Imhotep opened his mouth to answer, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"Do not apologize. I read your palm. I knew what to expect."

Imhotep nodded, not knowing how to respond.

"Nevertheless, Imhotep…" Meri said, her eyes lidded as she walked towards him again, putting her cup down. "I want you to give me a proper hello and a goodbye before I leave."

Pulling him down to her lips, she held him there, her sultry fragrance encircling him. Imhotep kissed her back, feeling nothing as she did so.

Meri pulled back, her dark eyes sad. "I knew getting myself entangled with a man in love was a dangerous game, but it was fun while it lasted."

"I wouldn't say loveー," Imhotep started before she stopped him.

"Save it, lover boy. It is useless on me," Meri said.

Imhotep tucked a piece of hair behind her ears and whispered, "Meri, you are a wonderful woman and a fine friend. Do not think it has anything to do with you."

Meri smiled, sadness contorting her features. "I know that, my friend. It is still sad," looking into his eyes, she huffed and stepped away. "Now! I wish for you to take me to see my son before we part ways. Don't worry, though. This isn't the last of me you'll see."

"I hope it isn't," Imhotep smiled back at her. "Who is your son?"

"Amenhemti, he is one of the Pharaoh's greatest Medjai," Meri said, pride radiating from her as she spoke.

Imhotep wracked his brain, the name sounding familiar. He chuckled when remembering the tall, nervous guard who had assisted him in the Queen's birth. "Yes, I know of him. I can take you to him."

Meri smiled, and Imhotep offered her his arm. Walking together, they left his chambers. Imhotep's heart felt heavier. He had unintentionally hurt this woman, but at least he still had her friendship. That was rare in this world, he was finding.