Eyes of Gold

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

Terms to Know:

Hedetet: Goddess of fertility, motherhood, infants, and scorpions. She is depicted with the head of a Scorpion, holding a nursing baby.

My beloved stirs my heart with his voice,
He causes illness to seize me . . .
My mother is right in commanding me:
"Avoid seeing him."
But, my heart is smitten by his memory,
My love for him has seized me.
Look, he is a fool

But I am just like him.
He does not know my desire to embrace him,
He does (not) send word to my mother.
Oh, my beloved!
I am destined for you,
By the Golden (Goddess) of Women.
-Papyrus Chester Beatty I, Chester Beatty Library.

~The Inferno of Eternal Damnation

Imhotep writhed in pain. The memories were increasing in their intensity. In his torment, he recalled his first meeting with her. It had been so unextraordinary but so powerful in its simplicity. He recalled how her soft hair had flowed down her shoulders and how he had longed to touch it with his fingertips. He remembered how her dark eyes shone like the Nile at night. How those eyes had captivated him…ensnaring his heart forever. Imhotep had not known then what this woman would have meant to him. She had unfrozen the layers that he had placed around his heart. Had he known the depth of their love, he would not have given away his heart so freely. For now, he rotted in this eternal hell, forever to be separated from his true love. The power of her love still flowed through his veins, keeping him sane.

Had he known his actions would have landed him here, he would have been more careful. More discreet. He wished he had given up his titles of High Priest and Vizier. They meant nothing here. All that mattered now was the memories of her. What good had it done him to devote himself to Osiris? He had been betrayed, left here to decay in this pit of loathing and fire. All Imhotep had done to protect the kingdom and its citizens meant nothing to the Gods. He had thrown away his life and his love for nothing. It all entwined together in a spiderweb of lies and deception. But his blame did not lay with the Gods.

Seti, Imhotep managed to hiss through his teeth. The imps of hell backed away again, sensing the change in him. The power within Imhotep was growing, increasing in its strength, pulsing at the seams. The extreme hatred poured off of him in waves, commanding the army of demons, if only for a second. But Imhotep paid no mind as he thought of the Pharaoh. His most trusted friend and ally, the boy king, who he had fought beside in battle. The man with whom he had shared countless hours of laughter. The man who had invited Imhotep into his home and included him as one of the royal family. None of it meant anything. For Seti was the one he had his heart set on destroying. The one Imhotep wanted to pay for his transgressions.

But here Imhotep sat, stuck in the God's prison of doom. The Hom-Dai burned through his veins. It sought to escape, wanting to cause mass destruction and death. Imhotep seethed, its power pulsating through him. Seti was buried with honors. Safe in the tomb that Imhotep had built. He was free to walk through the Field of Reeds, blessed to live forever in the afterlife. But the pain and the anger were all Imhotep could feel. Howling, Imhotep succumbed again as the memories kept coming.

~Early spring, 1294

Unamused, Imhotep awaited the Princess' arrival. Tua-re had been pestering him for years to tutor her daughter in the art of weaponry. She wanted Nefertiri to be able to defend the kingdom if it ever came down to it. Imhotep knew that others were much more skilled than him for the job, but he lived to please. Tua-re had wanted to keep her daughter's schooling "in the family," so to speak. Snorting, Imhotep chuckled at that. If only the Pharaoh and the Queen knew that he was a foundling. They would not have the same view.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" The gangly girl running down the stairs shouted. With all arms and elbows, she was the picture of awkwardness. Stumbling on the last step, she recovered and shot Imhotep a toothy smile.

Rolling his eyes and smirking, he said. " Fashionably late as always, Nefertiri."

The perfumed wig the Princess wore was slipping around on her head. She attempted to straighten it to no avail.

Imhotep walked over to her and helped her center the heavy hairpiece. "You know, you do not need to wear this when we are practicing." He said, raising an eyebrow.

Whining, she fought to keep the wig from slipping again and glared at him. "Yes, I do! You're a man. You wouldn't understand."

Turning away and finally securing it, she nodded, satisfied. Turning to him, her toothy grin lit up her face again. "Let's spar!"

Rolling his eyes, he nodded and retrieved the weapons they would use that day. Handing Nefertiri a small bronze axe and a shield, he retrieved his own and got into position.

"Alright…Come at me!" He said.

Nefertiri laughed, "Oh, I'll get you alright!" She raised the axe above her head and swung at him, the blade catching in his shield. She fell to the ground and landed with an unceremonious thud.

Sitting there, she looked at the ground, refusing to look at Imhotep, a pout on her royal face.

Grinning, Imhotep pulled her axe from his shield and offered his hand to her. Turning away from him, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted harder.

"I don't know why father insists on me learning this! I don't want to!" Nefertiri said as she turned to him, her eyes pleading. "Please tell father I want out!" She whined the last word, her eyes big.

Kneeling down next to Nefertiri, Imhotep sighed. "It is not quite so simple, little one."

Nefertiri turned away further, the scowl on her face growing deeper. "Well, you two are so chummy I'm sure you can figure something out. And don't call me little one!" She crossed her arms tighter.

Sitting down on the warm sand, Imhotep brought his hands together. He thought for a moment before responding. "There is a special reason that your father wants you to learn weaponry, Nefertiri," he said.

She turned to him, her eyes questioning, and raised her eyebrows. "Such as?"

Sighing, Imhotep looked to the heavens and replied. "I cannot tell you the full truth Nefertiri, but you will understand when you are older. Just know, everything your father does has a reason."

Huffing, she turned away and clambered to her feet. "Well, if my father has some stupid reason for this, it must be special then. I am the only Princess we've got" Nefertiri put her hands on her hips with sass. "Besides, the prettiest girl in the kingdom has to be able to protect it somehow."

Getting to his own feet, Imhotep chuckled, "Yes, I'm sure that's the reason, Your Highness." Imhotep said, bowing at the last word.

She hit his arm and laughed, "Okay, let's try again!" She said, raising the axe over her head and coming at him without warning.

Picking up his shield, he stopped her advancement with little effort. "Let's try something else, shall we?" Turning around, he smirked and grabbed a bow and a few arrows, handing them to her.

Dropping the axe and shield to the floor, Nefertiri stepped over them. Looking at the bows and arrows with wonderment, she turned them over in her hands. "Doesn't my father use these?" She asked, looking up at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Indeed he does," Imhotep said with warmth. "In fact, we used them in battle together."

"Wow! You must tell me of this!" Nefertiri said, bouncing up and down, her beaded braids jingling.

"Another time, little one," Imhotep said. "Now, put the arrows down over there." Imhotep pointed to a small rock nearby. "And we will practice using the bow."

Glaring at him, she replied. "Don't call me that! And must I? Do I not get to use the arrows yet?"

Grimacing, Imhotep pointed once more at the small rock. "Let's practice getting your arms in the right position before we try the dangerous weapon."

"Fine," Nefertiri said, annoyed, and stood in front of him, holding the bow. "Will you show me how to hold it?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Pulling a face, Imhotep turned around and wrapped his arms around her, putting the bow in her left hand. "You want to use the opposite of your dominant hand." He said. "Make sure you're using your dominant hand to pull back."

Nefertiri nuzzled in closer to him, not paying any attention. Without warning, she turned around and kissed him.

"Princess!" Imhotep said, stepping away from her at once, the bow falling to the sand. His hands held up in defense.

She smiled at him and opened her arms, running back to him. "Oh, Imhotep, you must know how you make me feel!" Her wig was sliding around once more, coming loose from the heat.

Stepping back further, Imhotep felt his back hit the far wall of the sparring ring. "Your Highness, this is not right. You are the Pharaoh's daughter."

She stopped, and her smile faltered. "What's that have to do with it?" She pouted. "Do you not find me attractive?" Nefertiri asked, her sheer golden threaded dress falling off one shoulder. She pulled the strap back up and stared at him with sadness.

"I thought you felt the same..." She pounded her foot down on the hot sand.

Opening his mouth and thinking better of it, Imhotep hesitated. "It is not what your father would want."

"My father? My father? Why would I care what he thinks of you and me? I, for one, think he would approve." She said, hands on her thin hips.

Backing away further, his back dug into the stone wall. Imhotep brow broke out in a cold sweat. He had to end this now. "Nefertiri, you are far too young for me…that is the truth of it." He said, watching her with weary eyes.

Her mouth opened and closed with no sound as she glared at him. He could almost see the steam rising off her. Sticking her tongue at him, she spun around and ran up the stairs, a gangly teenage mess. Her loud sobs reverberated off the stone walls. Imhotep sighed, sinking to the floor, his head in his hands. Why me? He thought.

He sat there for a few moments before collecting himself and standing. Brushing off his loincloth, he retrieved the weapons strewn about the room. Light footsteps reached his ears, and Imhotep looked up. He was fearful it was the tearful Princess again. But alas, it was a messenger from the Pharaoh.

Oh no, what has she told him? He thought, alarmed.

The messenger reached the bottom of the steps and cleared his throat, impatient. "Pharaoh Seti would like to see you now, my Lord." The man bowed.

"Whatever for?" Imhotep asked.

Rolling his heavy kohl-lined eyes, the messenger responded. "I don't know what for. I was only sent to retrieve you." With that, the slight man turned on his prissy heel and trodded up the steps, leaving Imhotep to follow.

Imhotep bit his lip in trepidation as he entered Seti's chambers. The Pharaoh sat on the far end of the room, his back to Imhotep. His profile was soft, weak, and unimposing, but Imhotep knew that looks were deceiving. I hope this isn't about Nefertiri, he thought.

Clearing his throat, Imhotep bowed. "Seti, you wished to see me?"

Turning around, Seti's eyes were hard and cold. He dragged his palms across his face and looked up at Imhotep. "I have been informed that the concubine has given birth to another daughter. How long have you been hiding this from me?"

Imhotep froze. That was not what he had expected. Kesi had given birth a few months prior. He had told Seti that she had come down with a severe contagious illness. Word has gotten around. Seti had been too lazy to even send any Medjai to check if his claims were valid. There must be spies in my midst…Imhotep brooded, distracted for a moment. Seti's harsh glare brought him back to reality. He owed him an answer.

"Yes, that is correct." No use in lying. "But it is possible that the child may not even survive." Imhotep held up his hands in silent defense.

Seti gritted his teeth. Imhotep could see the veins in the Pharaoh's forehead threatening to explode.

"It does not matter whether to child lives or dies…What matters to me is that viper of a woman. It matters to me that you hid this from me, Imhotep." Seti looked up; his eyes were devoid of kindness.

Imhotep swallowed again, thinking fast. "I had hoped the traitor would die from her illness before it was brought to light. I did not want the word spreading and causing you any strife…Master." Imhotep bowed at Seti's feet in piousness.

"Hmfp…" Seti said, looking down at him, his rage palpable. "I see. Well. In any case, you are most loyal to me. That much is true. But… the child will stay here. You know what comes next…." Seti said, his eyes growing cruel. "Get rid of her." He snarled, venom leeching from each word. "Now!"

Imhotep swallowed and felt a pang in his heart. The poor girl lay in the infirmary, weak and without a home to return to, but he knew better than to argue with Seti.

His eyes growing in hardness, Seti awaited his answer.

"As you wish," Imhotep said. Bowing, he turned and left Seti's chambers. Bile in his throat, he walked toward the infirmary, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

~Late spring, 1294

Ancksunamun could not help but be anxious. Kesi had given birth many moons ago. But every time she had inquired after her in the infirmary, she had been barred entrance. She was told to not both her. It weighed on her mind… something was very, very wrong, and she intended to find out what. And what was it that Kesi had wanted to tell her? A feeling in her gut told her that it was important. All I can do is wait until I see her with Pharaoh Seti, she thought. She has to be in public before too long!

This morning she was once again wandering the river banks. The sun was rising over the horizon, the sky a hazy pink. Pharaoh Seti… Ancksunamun thought. Something about him is dangerous. He is evil incarnate! Her mind went back to how he had pillaged her village for food. Her family left destitute…it was enough to enrage her at the thought. But this was so much worse; it left a sour taste in her mouth. Ancksunamun went pale as she remembered the purple bruises she had seen under Kesi's eyes. She swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill that went through her. But it was no use. The cold was far more potent than that. It radiated throughout her bones, chilling her to the core.

Ancksunamun curled in on herself as she paced. She recalled the lecherous way the Pharaoh had looked at her when she had arrived and every time since. It perpetuated the sourness in her stomach. It was beyond hatred at this point. It was abhorrence. Something is wrong with him, she thought. The way he sees women as property, and the way he steals from his own people, he has to be evil.

Her thoughts were interrupted as pebbles tumbled down the steps that led from the garden. Ancksunamuns head shot up, and she looked around. Not seeing anything, she continued her slow walk along the river banks. An Ibis sat on the opposite bank, waiting for its breakfast. Splashes of water could be heard further away. Hippos dipped in and out of the mud, playing in the early morning light.

Smiling wistfully, she remembered how the river flowed by her home in Merimde. In the early morning, the village cats would fish in the current, catching breakfast. Proud of themselves, they would trot back home, the prize in their mouths. Ancksunamun remembered her own cat, Hedetet. Her father had balked at inviting the animal into their home. But he had come around soon enough. Scorpions had invaded their home one early morning, cornering her family. Hedetet had warded them off, proving herself worthy. From that moment on, her father declared Hedetet protector of the house. He believed her to be sent from the Goddess herself.

Pebbles dropped nearby once more, and Ancksunamun stopped walking. An odd feeling came over her. She felt as if she was floating, her head dizzy. She turned to see where the commotion had come from and froze. Transported into her dreams, she was entranced by the eyes that seemed to see into the very essence of her soul. But these were not in the land of dreams; these were very real. Her throat went dry, and she could not find the words to speak. Imhotep! Her mind screamed. It's him! Her heart pounding away in her chest, she began to feel faint.

They stared at one another for quite some time, not moving, not speaking. He seemed to be restraining himself, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it. He was as dumbstruck as she found herself. The silence dragged on, her head becoming hazier and hazier as time passed. Looking at him now, she truly looked at him as a man. Unable to restrain herself, her eyes dragged across his body.

He stood at the bottom of the steps, the garden's walls behind him. The sun's rays bathed him in a golden glow, making his bronze skin sparkle. Her eyes grew more expansive, and she took all of him in as he stared back at her. Her eyes roved over his perfect face. His long eyelashes and golden eyes looked back at her, watching her as she watched him.

Swallowing, she noted that he was very tall, with lean and fit muscles. Good for throwing me around,… her mind said. Excuse me, where did that come from? She recalled his long fingers and how they had flitted over her skin. They had elicited reactions in her she had never felt in the waking world. She swallowed again, unable to look away.

The long black robe he wore trailed on the ground. She felt her cheeks redden as her eyes looked to where his loincloth sat. It hugged his hips and highlighted his manhood. The way he made me feel in my dreams… Ancksunamun's breath was coming out in short bursts. She had never been with a man, so why was he making her feel this way? She recalled her dreams. The feeling of his hand in hers, how he had led her toward the pomegranate grove, and the feelings he had stirred up in her. Feelings of unrestrained passion, lust, and fear had mingled within her. Here, in life, they were almost as strong. Was this indeed the man of her dreams?

By then, the purple and pink sky had faded and been replaced with a dusky yellow, slowly fading to a light blue. She kept returning to his eyes, the way they seemed to see through her and all of her at once. She felt as if she was drowning as she looked into them, pulled down into their abyss. Her mind was screaming in danger, but her heart was yelling something else. Her heart beat in her throat. The intoxication of his presence pulled her in.

He looked at her as intently as she, his golden-flecked eyes betraying nothing. His strong jaw and pouty lips were enchanting as she took every inch of him in. Feeling herself move without thinking, she found herself walking toward him. Unable to restrain herself any longer.

Stopping in front of him, her dark eyes bore into his, searching. Her heart was beating out of her chest, her breath almost coming out in sharp gasps. She reached out her hand in front of his face, tracing the air in front of him. The air around him felt electric, domineering, powerful, and seductive. Being this close to him, smelling the Kyphri incense on his skin, she felt as if she was buoyant in the air. She was floating away into the clouds, lost in a dream. His golden eyes, warmed by the morning sun, were no longer intense; they were soft and curious. She gazed into them, getting lost in them.

He spoke then, breaking the silence. "Goddess…what is your name?"

His voice sent shivers down her spine, turning it to custard. She wanted to hear it whispered in her ears for eternity. Breaking from her reverie, she answered, her voice soft. "Ancksunamun," she whispered, her eyes trained on his.

"Ancksunamun." He murmured, his voice deep and musical.

Her name on his lips made her swallow hard as a sudden heat began to pool in her abdomen. She had never felt this way before. Losing herself in all that he was, she found herself leaning in without thought, lips parted. Just as she had in her dreams.

The sound of a falcon crying overhead broke the magic spell. They both startled, stepping away from one another. Ancksunamun felt the dizziness in her head, threatening to overcome her. She looked panicked at the sun, noting that it was late morning.

"I must go!" She said, wanting to get away from him as fast as possible. She felt like a fool. The Pharaoh's High Priest and Vizier would never be interested in her. Biting her lip and looking back at him, she had a strange feeling that he, too, had felt the magic, but that was silly. Wasn't it?

Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes, and she made to wipe them away but was stopped by a gentle hand. He looked at her now, the windows to his soul bared, and wiped away her tears. Sniffling, she smiled at him and made to leave but was stopped by a firm grip on her hand. Turning back to look at him, he opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and closed it again. Releasing his grip on her, he let her leave without another word.

Bowing, Ancksunmaun rushed up the steps to the garden. She turned around at the top, looking down on a very forlorn Imhotep. She smiled sadly and disappeared through the garden gate, heading for the palace.

Imhotep watched her figure retreat. "Ancksunamun…" he whispered under his breath.

The last tendrils of her aura disappeared through the garden gate. Emptiness filled his being as the scent of jasmine, and myrrh blew away on the breeze. It left nothing behind but a whisper of her presence. A profound loneliness filled his heart, leaving him confused. Moments prior, it had been beating out of his chest, aching to be near her.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he relived their short time together. A strong feeling of electricity had vibrated in the air between them. It had taken all his strength then and there not to pull her into his arms and hold her. His head was a jumbled mess of questions, and his heart and head were battling it out. How could he resist her now when she had been so close? His fingers had longed to reach out and touch her stunning golden face, feeling her full lips on his.

She had made a peculiar gesture in the air in front of him. It felt as if she was speaking to his soul in a language only they knew. It had felt erotic in its simplicity. Her curvacious body had been mere inches from his, radiating pure carnal energy. Soft and grabbable, he had been unable to tear his eyes away. He had wanted to kiss every inch of her delicate neck, down to her perky breasts, and between her supple dancer's thighs. Groaning in his remembrance, Imhotep felt himself stir. He resisted its temptations, falling back into his daydream.

Looking into her dark eyes, he had felt as if he had seen a mirror image of himself. Beauty and passion had swirled in her eyes. But below it lay something darker, something mysterious. That part of her had called out to him, making him feel as if he was seen for the first time. Inky darkness had simmered in the obsidian depths. It resembled his own buried feelings of wickedness. Those which he tried to contain.

Imhotep shook his head, turned away from the garden wall, and looked toward the Nile. Sighing, Imhotep sat on a rock near the shore's edge, his heart feeling raw and jagged as he fought his own demons. He knew that with the way he was feeling, there was no way he'd be able to keep himself from her. But another part of him knew that he did not deserve her. Looking now to the heavens, he turned his face to the sun, feeling its brilliance warm his face. Tears streamed down his face, and he made no move to wipe them away. She was a Goddess, exquisite and untouchable. He was a despicable man who carried out the Pharaoh's evil deeds like a coward, never thinking for himself.

Turning away from the river, Imhotep felt an indescribable sadness take hold of him. No, he did not deserve someone like her and never would.

A/N: Oh my! Thank you for the incredible reviews! I will answer them this week! I haven't been able to stop smiling, truly. Thank you! This chapter has been newly updated as of January 28, 2023!