A/N To be totally honest and transparent, I'm still figuring this story out. I have several chapters written and several more plotted out, but after that, I'm not 100% sure where it is going to go... only that it won't leave me alone. I decided to start posting it in an effort to force myself to make some decisions XD. I promise trigger warnings and ratings updating if it goes in a darker direction than it is currently pointed.

Tiye is the name I chose to give to my take on Ancient Egypt Tea, since it's an actual Ancient Egyptian name. Any other non-canon names are original characters, not incarnations of canon characters.

Cornered

When the knock on the door came, Tiye was already awake. Though the night was almost through, she'd been awake for hours, listening as the sounds of screams, the roars of monsters, and the thunder of buildings being demolished gradually got closer and closer.

She sat up as Shada entered the room, followed by her maid Maatkare, looking drowsy and confused. Sweat shone on the priest's shaved head and the usually neat lines of elaborate kohl that lined his eyes were smudged. Weariness showed in every step, but his words were firm and clear, sharp with urgency. "Princess Tiye, the palace is under attack."

Tiye shoved aside the bedclothes and sprang to her feet. A million questions burst through her mind, but she kept them behind her teeth. Shada had not come - clearly from a field of battle - to relieve her curiosity. There was one question that mattered. "What must we do?"

Shada held her gaze. The priest's eyes were normally unreadable, but tonight fear and despair roiled through their umber depths, and it shook her down to her core. "You must flee the city, princess. I have given orders to have a vessel waiting for you at the docks, with a trusted man to carry you and your attendants to Abydos. Gods will it, those of us who remain will reunite with you there if we cannot repel this cursed thief and his minions." Hatred dripped from his last words.

"Those who remain?" Tiye could not quite help asking. She had never seen Shada like this.

Shada bowed his head. "The pharaoh has fallen," he said, and an icy chill stole the breath from Tiye's lungs. She could hear Maatkare gasp and a voice like Ahaneith's saying, "no, it cannot be," but they sounded as if they came from a far distance away. A feeling of unreality washed over her senses, a blackness curling at the edge of her vision that might have taken over entirely if Shada had not grabbed her hand. "Princess, forgive me, but there is no time. You must flee from this place at once. There will be time for mourning later—or else there will be no need for it."

Tiye knew he was right. She hauled in a deep breath and forced herself back to the present. "Where do we go?"

Shada outlined the plan in short, quiet words, explaining the part of the Theban docks where the courier's boat could be found. "It's only a small barque," he told her, "a fishing vessel. It won't hold more than six people."

Tiye swallowed hard, understanding his meaning at once. There was no way to evacuate the vast staff of the royal palace - the veritable army of maids, grooms, gardeners, cooks, sculleries, and so many more that kept the palace running. There was not even a way to get all of her own personal attendants to safety.

"Maatkare," she said, barely recognizing her own voice, "please go rouse Kiaa and Shenah at once." Was this how she decided who was worthy of rescue, in this coldblooded way? But there was no time. The choice had to be made, and if she let herself think about all those she would leave behind, the guilt and the anguish would destroy her. Maatkare and Ahaneith were here on duty this night, and Kiaa and Shenah were the youngest of her attendants. As the dark-haired young woman bobbed her obedience and slipped from the room, Tiye closed her mind to the other names, other faces that flashed through it and forced herself to listen to what Shada was saying.

"...some of the bandits have already broken through to the outer grounds. I will ease your way as much as I can, but I must rejoin the battle before it is lost. I do not know how far outside the palace the magic will hold. Go as swiftly and silently as you can."

Ahaneith helped her into an outer robe, cinching it over the simple sleeping shift she wore with a sash. The older woman kept her usual fussing and clucking in check, though the worry lines on her face stood out in bold relief. There was no time for jewelry, of course, but Tiye tucked a few of her golden earrings into its folds, in case of emergencies, while Ahaneith fetched her wool cloak. She swung it over Tiye's shoulders just as Maatkare returned with the two younger girls in tow – all of them scared and sleep-toused, but fully alert and dressed.

"It is time," said Shada. "We cannot delay any further."

The little group made their way down the corridor, the sounds of destruction growing louder. The pair of guards posted at the end of the hall looked jumpy and scared. Shada held out his Key and sent a tendril of shadow magic toward them, just as one saw them and began to call out a challenge. Before the words left his mouth, he grayed and froze, as if locked in place by a sickly golden haze, the other guard similarly frozen by his side.

"They are unharmed," Shada murmured, at Tiye's look. "It will wear off soon. But we cannot have an alarm raised."

As they neared the end of the corridor where it met the main hall, Shada stopped. His Key began to glow as he chanted low, unintelligible words that sent the hairs rising on Tiye's arm. As he finished the spell, the world changed around them, somehow duller and colder than it had been. It felt as though they had slipped from reality into a grey dream.

At Shada's gesture, the group ventured forward again, but their steps seemed to make almost no noise on the hard stone floor. Even the rustling of their dresses and cloaks was muffled—as if they had become little more than shadows.

They made their way in this eerie fashion through the main hall filled with soldiers, past marauding bandits, beside screaming warriors, and around roaring monsters, none of whom even glanced in their direction. Even the flickering flames from the torches seemed barely to glow. Tiye had the oddest sense they would not burn her if she touched them, though she did not put it to the test.

They passed through the maw of desperate fighting that spilled past the great gilded doors of the palace and into the courtyard. Ka-monsters battled in bewildering varieties as lines of robed priests chanted. Arrows rained from both directions, and the ladies cringed. Shada's spell of silent passage could not protect them from falling arrows. Still, they made it without harm past the great pylons that guarded the palace and slipped into the darkness of the city beyond.

"Go swift and silently," Shada warned them. He was already turning his attention to the forces arrayed against the palace."The magic won't last much longer. May the gods smile upon you, my princess."

"And upon you." Tiye swallowed over the lump in her throat. "Gods protect you, Shada."

He turned and his eyes met hers a last time. They burned with a dark fire. "I do not ask the gods for safety, Princess. Only for vengeance."

Tiye bowed her head. She closed her eyes over the hot tears she could not allow to fall and turned away. Leaving behind the embattled palace, she walked into the darkness.

A single lamp was their only weapon against the treacherous darkness that snaked through the streets of Thebes. Maatkare held it close to her chest, partially shielding its orange glow with a fold of her cloak. The light was a risk, Tiye knew, but so was stumbling along in the gloom that lingered over the city streets. There was little help for it.

At her whispered urging, Maatkare led the way, with Kiaa and Shenah behind her. The two younger attendants were doing their best to be brave, but Tiye could see their wide eyes and trembling chins. Kiaa flinched at every loud noise, though she resolutely kept from crying out, while Shenah's eyes followed the flickering shadows. Tiye followed, with Ahaneith close after her, the older woman relentlessly pushing them forward.

After the sorcerous silence of their trek through the palace, every footfall, every breath seemed dangerously loud. Still, Tiye could only be grateful for Ahaneith's labored breathing, for Kiaa's scurrying footsteps, for the soft clinking of Shenah's beaded shawl, the rustle of Maatkare's cloak and skirts, and their constant reminder that she was not completely alone, even as they fled the destruction of their home.

My home…my hopes… everything I ever was…

The pharaoh is dead. Tiye had pushed the thought down so many times already this night, but she could not help it rising again, along with the despair that always followed it, like a wail in her chest. The pharaoh was dead, so how could any of the rest of it keep going?

Her pharaoh, her prince, Egypt's hope and future. Confident, brave, selfless. Her future husband - betrothed even before her birth. She'd been fortunate beyond words that she would be his bride. Surely he'd never be cruel to her or humiliate her with a constant stream of favorites. She'd loved him, of course, as all of Egypt loved him - with a distant, loyal devotion. She'd never expected any special love in return, only hoped for a measure of the same respect he showed to all his servants and companions. It was so much more than so many royal wives received.

And if the pharaoh is dead, what does that make his betrothed bride? It was an ugly thought, self-centered and pitying, on this terrible day that had cost so many lives and caused so much pain. Tiye felt awful even for thinking it, but the thought gnawed on her anyway.

From the moment she was born, there had not been a day of Tiye's life that had not been defined by his. She didn't even remember the first time she had been told it was her destiny to become the pharaoh's bride. It must surely have happened, once upon a time, but so long ago it seemed she had always known it, like she'd known her own name.

She'd been so young when she was brought to the palace to be raised at court that she barely remembered what life had been like at her parents' estate. She had visited occasionally, of course, just as they had come often to court, but her parents had become distant figures to her by then, not quite strangers, but less real than her nurses and teachers. Her father had come less frequently after her mother's passing, but not seldom enough to let anyone forget that despite his modest title, his daughter was the Great Royal Heiress and future Queen. The idea of returning to his estate to live with him seemed as strange as going off to live in Carthage or Aksum.

Tiye shook off her thoughts, realizing the streets were growing narrower as they left the wealthier districts that surrounded the palace and approached the docks. The sky overhead had already changed from the black of night to the deepest of blues, and now it was graying at the edges, a new day waiting to rise. There was no time now to woolgather and wonder over what the future would bring her. She had to focus on the here and now if she wanted to leave Thebes with her life and her attendants. Let the gods decide her destiny.

The reek of fish reached her first. It could not be much longer to the docks now, Tiye thought.

The walls of close-built houses and shops that hemmed them in began to peeter out, allowing glimpses of palm trees and pale sails silhouetted against the still-dark sky.

She could feel a change to the air, and the color of the darkness was slightly different, casting wilder shadows on the wall as a cold wind whipped through the alley. Maatkare gasped and twisted to shield the lamp, and Kiaa couldn't quite keep back her peep of terror.

"It's only the wind," Tiye whispered encouragingly. "Just a little farther now." Ahead, she could see a cluster of sails, and the dark shapes of boats. Her heart lifted as Maatkare's lamplight fell on a figure at the end of the alley - Shada's courier, no doubt. She was about to call out to him when another figure stepped into the light's path, and then another.

Bandits.

"What do we have here?" Orange lamplight illuminated a cruel sneer.

"Palace rats, by the look of it."

Kiaa's shriek of terror was cut short as a man stepped out of the shadows and seized her, hand covering her mouth. Maatkare whirled to help her, only to be grabbed herself by another of the bandits. The oil lamp fell from her fingers, throwing the scene into a confusion of shadows. Men shouted and cursed as the women struggled to free themselves. "Get them," a man's voice hissed. "If they're palace spies, Bakura will want to question them."

Heart pounding, Tiye heard Shenah shriek. She twisted in the direction of the sound, only to feel Ahaneith give her a hard shove. "Run, my lady," her servant hissed. "It's not far to the docks. Run now and don't look back."

For a moment, Tiye stared ahead. A clear stretch of alley lay between her and the open space ahead that led to the docks. Shada's man would be waiting for her. If she was swift, and the gods smiled on her, she could make it. Her muscles tensed.

No.

Shenah hiccuped a sob, while Maatkare let out a stream of surprisingly creative curses while thrashing so violently that three men were struggling to hold her back. Ahaneith's eyes met hers pleadingly, as she turned back to face the alley. Tiye looked away from her and towards the ruffians holding Maatkare. "Let them go," she shouted, praying to Isis that her voice would not quaver. "It's me you want, not them."

"No, lady," whimpered Kiaa, but Tiye could already see the bandits swinging their attention her way.

"I'm the one you want," Tiye repeated. "The princess of Egypt. Let these other ones go."

"No one is going anywhere." A cold voice came out of the shadows directly behind Tiye. An iron hand gripped her shoulder before she could turn, and in the next instant an icy prick at her skin told her there was a knife at her throat. She froze.

"Come along quietly," the owner of the cold voice ordered, talking past her to her horrified attendants, "unless you'd like to see me spill some royal blood on the street." He chuckled darkly, making the knife point at Tiye's neck quiver a terrifying fraction. "Some more blood, I should say."

Tiye felt as though she'd been turned to ice. It couldn't be…but she knew, deep in her gut, just who it was who held her captive at knifepoint.

The Thief King.