Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Chapter 1

You Know I Can't Fall in Love

Laughter broke through the palace grounds.

A young boy with exotic eyes peeked from behind the bark of a tree. A grin escaped his lips. "You can't get me!"

On the other side of the grounds, another boy narrowed his eyes. He gulped down a breath, catching a branch of a nearby tree to keep himself from topping over. "Oh yeah!" He winced at how high his voice became with lack of air he had. He wasn't much of a runner unlike the other boy, but he was too proud to admit it.

"Yeah! You'll never catch me! You're not a very good sorcerer you know!"

"I am too a good sorcerer!" He said angrily, straightening his shoulders. "I can get you easily!"

"No you can't! You've never caught me before," he pointed out.

The other growled, folding his hands. The boy grinned. "But that doesn't matter. You don't have to be a good sorcerer! Someday you're going to be the pharaoh! Me, I'm going to the best priest in all the empire!"

The other blinked at his friend's words. "How you know you're going to be a priest?"

"Cause I'm good," the boy boasted.

The other faltered, unable to think of a comeback to his friend's words, until the other let go of the tree. He lightly stretched his arms. A low rubbing sounded from his stomach. The two boys giggled at the sound.

"I say you're hungry. Let's get something to eat."

"Okay! Let's race. We'll go at ten, 'k?"

"Okay." He smiled brightly. "One, two, three…"

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"Eight, nine, ten. I win!"

The young prince looked up, blinking in surprise. "You cheated!"

"Nope, you're just not very good at Senet," the young priest-in-training announced. "You have no strategy!" The boy lightly teased. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

The prince rolled his eyes before falling back on his bed. His father had gone away on a diplomatic trip and wouldn't be back till late that night. Unfortunately that meant majority of the palace was empty. Just the women, servants, and some of the guards had stayed behind. Thus lessons were cancelled, and he was prohibited from leaving the castle walls. He had managed to lure his friend into his room to keep him company. The other acted so busy lately, cramming over papyrus scrolls. He would frequently scold him for not studying as much as he believed he should. It had taken a good deal of a portion of his dessert and a promise to study harder for their next strategies test before the other agreed to put down his scrolls. Chocolate was the key to the boy's heart. He had a horrible sweet tooth.

The young priest-in-training pouted. "This proves you should study more."

"Aww, you sound like Shimon when you do that, khenmes."

"Would you quit calling me that?" The boy playfully swapped at his friend. "Everyone thinks it weird."

"I don't know. Everyone in the palace calls you wa'eb ii. It sounds so," the prince shrugged his shoulders and bit his lips. A mixed look of disgust and aspiration covered his face. The other giggled amused by his friend's expression. "Besides you call me key wi, which nobody else would dare call me by. I think it's only fair." The young prince squelched up his face causing the other to break into a fit of giggles.

"Fine fine, Key Wi. But still… can't you think of anything else?"

"Hmm… how about sSn Hrrt?"

The young priest-in-training tossed a Senet stone at the prince's arm. "sSn Hrrt?"

"Well you look like one… very cute."

"You're weird." The boy rolled his eyes. He walked over to the prince's bed. Lightly he pushed the other over to give himself some room before laying himself down next to his friend.

"Tired?"

"We used to do this a lot when we young."

"We're not that old, sSn Hrrt."

"Oh shut it!" The boy snapped.

"Fine, hem-netjer-tepey."

"I really hate you when you get like this."

"I thought you wanted to be my high priest," the prince muttered.

"It sounds…" the boy sat up, waving his arms furiously, clearing indicating something too horrible for words.

"Funny?"

"From your lips. Much too grown up."

The prince chuckled. "You're the one who studies too much."

"That's not bad, you know. It's our positions. You got to be pharaoh, and I'll be your priest. Next year I'll be leaving for the temple."

The prince's smile faded.

"You got to find a wife soon."

"Hmph," was all the prince could say.

"What?" the priest-in-training sat up. He narrowed his eyes. The other let out a pretend snore. "First of all you don't snore," the boy feigned annoyance. He grabbed the prince's pillow and playfully swapped his stomach. A strange sound left the other's lips.

"I don't wanna find a wife," the prince whined. He half opened his eyes. He cocked his head causing the other to laugh.

"Oh come on! There has to be a type of girl that you like."

"Why? You like someone?"

"Well," the priest-in-training blushed.

The prince's face stiffened. He had never expected his friend to actually like someone. Suddenly he decided he was in a lousy mood.

The blush slowly disappeared; a crooked smile appeared on his face. "The kitchen servant's really nice. She always gives me extra dessert."

"You're awful you know that!"

"I'm going to be a priest someday. You know I can't fall in love," the boy scolded. He lightly punched his friend in the arm. A somewhat bitter grunt escaped the prince's lips. "So… come on. What type of girl do you like? Personality-wise."

The prince too sat up. He cocked his head, accepting the question. "You know had anyone else asked me that question I could easily execute him?"

"Very funny."

"Thank you." The prince tapped his knee. "Someone… quiet, shy, but I could always make her talk. She doesn't have to be funny but has a great sense of humor. She'd be someone fun to talk to; someone fun to be around. Someone who… even when I'm in the most horrible mood could make me feel better again. Someone whose not demanding, someone who doesn't love me solely for my rank but who I am…"

"Good luck finding her," the priest-in-training interjected. "She sounds too much like a character from one of Isis's romance stories."

"That's why I'm not getting married."

"Oh?!" The priest-in-training raised his eyebrow. "Really now."

"Yep," the prince nodded. He grinned. "Oh, and she's got to be cute too."

"Cute is not a personality," the priest-in-training reminded. A smile curled around his lips.

"Can be. You got one."

"I'm not cute!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

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"Not!"

"You did too! Just admit it. I'm better at archery than you are Khenmes."

"If we didn't grow up together, I would have to say you have an obsession for trying to beat me."

"I think your eye sight is failing you Khenmes." The prince leaned against his bow. An arrow spun gracefully between his fingertips. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to beat me."

The priest-in-training pouted. He glanced over at their mounts. Two beautiful horses, one white and one black, the two were currently basking in the sunlight. "Well then. Let's race back to palace gardens."

"Okay." The prince grinned. "But no cheating."

"I never cheat."

The two threw themselves over their mounts. Grinning the priest-in-training kicked off.

"Hey!"

"I won!" The boy shouted. His face flushed from the fast race. Sand was smeared over his face.

The prince smiled. His hands reached up to lightly brush away the bits of sand from the other's cheeks. They lightly ran down his jaws to the back of his neck. Slowly the prince leaned over… lightly brushing his lips against the other's. When he pulled away, the other was still smiling, a sweet soft smile.

"I… won," the priest-in-training muttered huskily.

"No… I think I did," the prince's voice dropped an octave.

The other shivered as his prince pulled him closer. He slowly shut his eyes. Lightly their lips met. The prince's strong arms snaked around his young priest's body. The priest moaned. Slowly they fell back against the soft sand. It cushioned the boy's body. Both were soft and hot. A small moan left the ball of the priest's throat.

The prince pushed harder. Grinding their bodies together, he pressed deeper into their kiss.

"Re-pat."

"Hmm," the prince mumbled.

"Get up…"

The summer's heat suddenly disappeared. He found he was no longer lying in a desert oasis. He blinked and found himself staring into a bundle of rich purple cloth. He looked around, slowing pushing himself upward. Only then did he recognize where and when he was.

The previous night and those before came rushing back. He was in the harem quarters. He had begun his pro-creation lessons that were mandated of him. Bitterly he pushed back the sheets. They seemed so foreign and disgusting. He slowly turned his head and found his annoying cousin peering down at him.

"Your mother told me to come wake you." The boy smirked. He was a year older than his prince. "Oh, and I'm sure she and Per-a'a will yell at you again. The girl was found crying hysterically in the throne room this morning."

The prince stared blankly back, remembering the contents of his dream. "Oh."

The other blinked, confused at the reply. He narrowed his eyes. "Will you get up?"

The prince blinked again. Only then did he notice the strange feeling between his legs. "Yeah, you go on ahead. I… I'll be right there," the prince fumbled. He quickly grabbed the sheets he had tossed aside to cover his legs.

The other peered down at his cousin. "If this is a prank to get me in trouble with Per-a'a," the other threatened. He reached over to pull the sheets away. "No! Damn it Seto! I can manage." He shouted.

Seto flinched. "Fine, fine. Do whatever you want." He shrugged his shoulders and walked out the room, making sure he slammed the door extra hard.

"Damn it," the young prince hissed, burying his face into his covers.

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A few days later, a letter arrived from the young priest-in-training from the temple.

Like his last one that had come a few months earlier, he detailed to his prince his daily activities – strategies, magic, history, sword fighting, horseback riding, and prayer. He commented that he was during well and would return after his fifteen's birthday and before the prince's sixteenth. He questioned everyone's health, the prince's studies, and so forth. The letter never went into much depth and was very neutral.

"So political, one would think we weren't best friends after reading such a letter," the prince grumbled, bitterly. He tossed it aside.

"Re-pat," a young girl whined. She had been sitting across from the prince as he read his letter. "You know Wa'eb Ii isn't like that. It's all a matter of raids and thieves, protection."

The prince narrowed his eyes. "Mana," his voice was particularly gruff. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing your magic with Mahado?"

"No, he's too busy with one of his spells. I think it's a love spell," Mana continued. She tugged at her brown tresses, a habit she had developed since her youth. "I think he's trying to woe Isis."

The prince looked up. "I thought priests and priestesses couldn't marry or love?"

Mana blinked, confused. "Really. Who told you that?"

The prince shook his head. A sparkle, that hadn't been in his eyes since his friend left to continue to his education, reappeared. "That doesn't matter, so priests can love?"

"Yep," Mana nodded, no longer interested in the present conversation. "Let's go do something, Re-pat. I'm bored," she whined.

As the prince stood up, a nasty thought crossed his mind. What if he doesn't love me? Hadn't even been two years since he had told me 'I'm going to be a priest someday. You know I can't fall in love'.

His letters had been so neutral despite Mana's reassurance. What if he forgot about him in that temple? Most of his father's priests and priestesses looked emotionless, and Mana doesn't know much. He suddenly felt lousy again.

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Cold hard sandals clunked as they hit the ground, dominating and powerful with each graceful step. The 'ten ton' gold studded jewelry neatly embroidered into his clothes and that which adorned his body jiggled as he walked.

His eyes were cold and distant, the epitome of a good ruler. His skin had a warm bronze hue to it.

Over the course of one growing season, the young prince had grown cold and irritable. Boyish laughter never left his lips. He never smiled only smirked. His appearance made him seem older than he really was.

He glanced around at the room. The placid expression was engraved in everyone's face. The day marked a new era. A fifteen-year-old would ascend the throne and lead Kemet back to its glorious days.

The boy knelt before Shimon. Lessons he had been taught. The old, frail supporter of his deceased father held his crown and symbol of royalty- the Sennen Puzzle.

He glared at them as his father's high priest Akunadin led them in pray. They were a cold, suppressing reminder of the things we wished for and could never have. Cruelty to the infinite degree, born to be a pharaoh yet he couldn't even claim his sole love.

TBC

A/N: I give you fic. You give me review?