Title:  Passion - Chapter Seven -  Second Wind
Rating:  PG13 for now
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://oocities.com/saturnfiction
Summary:  Something’s bothering Ardeth. Of course it’s never as simple as that.
Disclaimer:  No infringement intended.  I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.
Prequel (which should be read to get this):  http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1
Codes:  Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy

*

Imhotep looked out across the strange city as they came from Giza Port to find rooms. This world definitely lacked the grace and sophisticated beauty that was his Egypt; the buildings were made with less artistry and the people grumbled openly about their part in day-to-day living. But in the way of progress he could find no fault. Sometimes though it hit him just how long had passed. 3,000 years was a long time to these mortals. It seemed a long time for him now that he was, in fact, mortal.

In three millennia he had not felt the presence of age, but now it weighed on his mind. He was not certain he cared for the idea of having only forty or fifty more years with Nefertiri. They would fly by and then she would be gone. If she would have him for that long. The Med-Jai’s face flitted through his thoughts and brought a scowl.

Rick’s display of friendship had been nothing if not highly peculiar. The Greek Med-Jai hated Imhotep with a passion. Yet if he could bring himself to offer his enemy a drink and talk with him—even if it was in a language Imhotep knew very little of—could not Nefertiri change for the worse?

The fair-haired man spoke in a grumbling tone to Nefertiri’s brother as they hefted their bags through the streets of Cairo. His mannerisms sometimes caught the priest’s attention, making him wonder what sort of people this man had come from. He wasn’t from the same people as Nefertiri and Rameses it seemed to Imhotep.

Thoughts of her made him gaze around him once more. If he concentrated hard enough he could see Thebes once again; see her as a younger girl, the games they would play. It seemed he had waited a long time for her to take him seriously and then Ancksunamun had taken it away from him almost as quickly as he had gotten it.

And now this. He wanted to have faith in her, but betrayal had been a part of his life for so long now he wasn’t sure he knew how to trust. The vision ahead only increased that sensation. All three men stopped and O’Connell breathed something in his own language. Imhotep’s eyes were not playing tricks on him. Walking ahead were the very two on the small party’s minds.

Nefertiri and Akhenre walked close together and her hand suddenly touched his back. A scowl found Imhotep’s expression as he stared. Surely it would not be this easy. Finding them on the streets in plain view? Was life not supposed to be harder? It would be for the Med-Jai in about twenty seconds. Imhotep knitted his brows and dropped the bags in his hands. “Uh-oh,” Jonathan said and the priest knew that phrase to mean he likely foresaw something terrible ahead. He was very right.

The High Priest of Osiris stalked straight towards them with a growl from Nycolaus behind him. He paid the two men no mind. His intent was clear and would be satisfied. “You dare take that which is mine, Med-Jai?” he shouted in his tongue, causing many of the locals to look up from their destinations.

Nefertiri was the first to turn around and she gasped out his name. Imhotep ignored her for the moment and gripped the shirt of this Ardeth Bay, this Akhenre. “For this I will kill you!” he continued, shoving Ardeth into the wall of a nearby building. A lady drew her son away.

The Med-Jai groaned and winced, but pushed back with strength. Evelyn came up behind Imhotep and grabbed his shoulders, saying, “What do you think you’re doing? Imhotep, stop!”

He pulled her hands from his body and turned his gaze on her. “Be still, princess! I will not let you go with this man without teaching him what it means to steal from a priest of Osiris!” The priest turned back to the recovering Med-Jai and threw a punch. Ardeth gripped his head and stumbled back from Imhotep’s grasp.

“Go with this man?” Evy countered with a frown. Her expression searched her memory, then lit up in sudden understanding. “Oh my good lord, Imhotep, you’re wrong! I’m not going anywhere with Ardeth!”

Imhotep had just grabbed Ardeth by the shirt again, but stopped when he heard that. He turned his head and looked to Nefertiri warily. “You told me you had chosen this Med-Jai over me.”

She shook her head quickly and touched his arm, those dark eyes luminous as she now smiled. “It wasn’t me that said that. It was Ancksunamun.”

Right now he didn’t care what that meant. It wasn’t her that had chosen against him. At her warm expression he couldn’t help but smile back. “Truly? It was not you?”

Nefertiri nodded and looked at the other two, then back again. Her eyes suddenly widened, but it was too late. Ardeth’s fist met Imhotep’s cheek and the priest stumbled. Evy looked up and gasped, and Imhotep turned to see what she was concerned with. The Med-Jai’s eyes blazed between the friends. “You will not stop me from raising my lover,” he told them.

Imhotep rubbed his jaw and said, “You would raise Ancksunamun, Med-Jai? Are you mad?”

The Med-Jai glared at him steadily, rage burning through his expression. His voice grew deathly low. “So long ago you touched what was mine, High Priest, yet I took no revenge for it. If you do not let me raise her then I shall take what is now yours. Ancksunamun will never let Nefertiri go.”

It was Ancksunamun. Evy’s words came back to him. Imhotep widened his eyes and turned to his princess in questioning. “Ancksunamun?”

She nodded with a frightened expression that made him feel ready to hit someone—Akhenre if he could manage it without causing too much anger. “She’s inside me, Imhotep. I don’t know when she’ll surface again. Akhenre is in Ardeth.” Nycolaus finally broke into the conversation, speaking to the princess in their language. Imhotep watched his blue eyes widen.

The priest looked at the sand, then glanced back to the Med-Jai, whose eyes held a familiar glint. There was little time. Acting quickly, Imhotep pounced onto him to prevent his escape, but Akhenre had been prepared for it. He grabbed Imhotep’s wrists and swung him back. The priest felt himself fall, but kept a firm grasp on Akhenre, bringing the Med-Jai down with him. Rick dropped down to aid him, pressing his friend to the sand with a muttered word. Akhenre wrenched his arm free and slammed it into the fairer man, then went back to attacking Imhotep.

Imhotep found a knee in his stomach and doubled over with a groan. Mortality had this way of getting on his nerves once in a great while. Nycolaus took over struggling with the Med-Jai, trying desperately to hold his arms still. Jonathan took up a defensive stance in front of his sister.

Suddenly something caught the priest’s attention as he got up and prepared to fight again. “Nycolaus!” he hissed, but it was too late. Akhenre grabbed for a knife hanging in a sheath at O’Connell’s side and drew it, then shoved it into his side.

“Rick!” Evy cried as her friend hit the sand. Akhenre pulled himself free and took off before Imhotep could attack. He ran past Nefertiri with a longing glance, but apparently knew he had no time. The priest got up and started after him, but a small hand on his shoulder stopped him. Nefertiri looked up with tears in her eyes. “Help me.”

Imhotep looked down at her fallen friend, then shook his head. “I have not the power to heal him. Not any longer.”

She knelt down and took Imhotep’s hand, pulling him to his knees without much effort past the expression on her face. “No, but you were a healer even before your power came. Will he die before we can get help?”

Rick shivered and groaned, looking up at Evy with frightened eyes. He breathed something in his own tongue to which Nefertiri soothed, “Shhh.”

Imhotep opened the bottom of Nycolaus’ shirt to see the damage. He was very lucky. The priest shook his head. “He will not die if we stop the bleeding. I have treated many Med-Jai coming from battle who lived after worse than this. But he must be treated. Your time has better medicine. Where shall we take him?”

Looking up to her brother, Nefertiri commanded his help as proudly as the princess she had been so long ago. Jonathan nodded and knelt down beside his friend, making ready to lift. The princess began picking up the bags from the road, but they were too numerous. Imhotep took one and strapped it to his back as Evy told him, “We’ll take him to Dr. Qasim at the hospital. It isn’t very far from here.”

Imhotep nodded once and helped Rameses pick Nycolaus up from the sand. The Greek Med-Jai groaned and grumbled as they began walking. Nefertiri lagged behind with the heavy bags, causing the priest to keep glancing back. Akhenre was still out there somewhere.

*

She was in a hospital room, the room Nefertiri had stationed their shared body in for some time. Nycolaus lay sleeping on a bed nearby and Ancksunamun regarded him coldly. Still, it pleased her Akhenre would be willing to kill his friend for her. It was another bond around his heart. Ancksunamun sat for a moment, content to remain here for the time being. She wasn’t feeling very well.

Ancksunamun pushed the chair back and retreated into an adjoining restroom to look at herself. Nefertiri’s dark eyes stared back, lovely and regal. The princess had always been more regal. Lifetimes later she still looked pampered and spoiled and even though Ancksunamun herself gazed from those eyes, she couldn’t erase the arrogance from her new face. Even still, Nefertiri was beautiful. She could see why Imhotep wanted her. She caressed her fingers over one cheek. Her own would be scarred and ugly. What if she kept this body? She could start over, pretend to be someone else.

The black shirt Nefertiri wore was loose and pretty for the standards of today, but Ancksunamun in her hell of being a concubine, had grown used to flaunting her body. The princess was beautiful in form, so why should she not do the same? The former priestess of Set knew why. Because it was beneath her. Turning to the side, Ancksunamun drew the shirt tighter and frowned at the reflection. Nefertiri wouldn’t have long to look this way. She carried Imhotep’s baby, or at least Ancksunamun assumed it was his. She could remember a time she had been pregnant with Seti’s bastard child. As soon as the cold king had learned of it he had forced her to take herbs that would end any chance his slave could have someone to love other than himself.

Ancksunamun touched the mirror and looked into her eyes, breathing, “Do you know you’re with child, Nefertiri?” She could feel disbelief course through the other soul. “It’s only been a month, hasn’t it? And already you’re having his baby. Perhaps I will kill it before I leave your body, or maybe I’ll keep you both and raise her myself. I can’t let her grow up to be like you, can I? Maybe I’ll have an accident and have Akhenre impregnate this body.” She laughed at the loathing that passed over Nefertiri. “Oh, you think I’m so evil, don’t you? You can’t believe the pain I would cause for the sake of hate? I have done nothing compared to what shall come. I will do worse than death to you.”

Ancksunamun scowled at the reflection before her and left the restroom. She was sick of watching this man sleep. When she entered the hall she saw Imhotep approaching and an idea came to mind. Instantly her arms encircled his waist and he hugged her gently, whispering, “He will live, my princess.”

“I know,” she whimpered back, hiding her face from his and smiling. He felt warm and she recalled nights long ago when she had used him, taken all he had stood for and made him give his broken heart. Ancksunamun rubbed his back sensually and looked up. “I’m tired of this place. I can’t sit in there anymore, Imhotep. I…I need…” She trailed off and rested her head against him again. Nefertiri was solemn inside, knowing what Ancksunamun planned to take from them.

Imhotep tangled his hand into her long tresses and said, “Your brother has returned with keys to our rooms. He may stay and watch over Nycolaus, if you wish. I will take you to rest.”

She nodded softly in reply, saying nothing and hiding the delight she had in knowing Nefertiri’s pain. Together they walked through the cold hallways of the small hospital until they came to the waiting area. Imhotep waved down Jonathan’s attention from a nurse and commanded, “Stay with Nycolaus. Nefertiri wishes to rest. You said our rooms are nearby?”

Running a hand through his hair, and then fishing out the keys, Jonathan nodded and handed them over. “Yep. Just across the street, actually. Drake’s place. Not the finest, but close. They won’t be going through our bags, anyway.” He looked to his sister and rubbed her shoulder, and Ancksunamun found herself wanting to back away. She had no like for Rameses. “He’ll be all right, old mum. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure he will,” she replied, then turned towards the exit without another word. She paid no attention to his questioning of Imhotep, but caught the priest’s answer about her stress. Then he was at her side and they left the hospital. Back in her time Imhotep would have treated the Greek Med-Jai, but this was a man who was lost in another time. She smiled at her own fortune of possessing Nefertiri’s knowledge.

It was now dark and the stars glittered by the thousands, reminding Ancksunamun of just what she was fighting for. Life and all life would offer her. All she would take. She turned her head to see the priest’s expression and scowled inside at his peaceful eyes. He opened the door for her—for Nefertiri, and she swept by with a smile. Ancksunamun would take that peace away from him again soon enough. She would take it away from all who had dared cross her.

They ascended the stairs in silence and searched for the room bearing the number upon the key. Then behind closed doors Ancksunamun started to use him again, drawing him in and sending her hands over the clothing he wore. He seemed different than before, less like he was trying to escape and more like he was trying to cage himself in this and throw away the key. Imhotep removed his jacket and let it fall to the floor as she touched the rim of his pants with unconcealed desire.

“My Nefertiri,” he whispered, rubbing his hand down her cheek and pulling her into a hot embrace. “How I have missed saying that name. Nefertiri, I missed you. Nefertiri, I love you. Nefertiri, I need you.” He kissed her neck and Ancksunamun smiled over his shoulder, her hands pulling at the shirt that hid him from her eyes.

“Imhotep,” she breathed instinctively and he stilled for a moment, but continued his assault on her throat. It had been so long since Ancksunamun felt this, anything like it. Imhotep was fiery in his passion, made his women tremble in their need for him. She could remember long ago this heat had swallowed her hurt over Akhenre. Thinking of him made her frown. He still would not touch her. So be it. She would take this priest again if Akhenre refused her. Imhotep started pulling at the skirt she wore, drawing it up her legs so he could reach the skin of her thighs, no doubt. He enjoyed much contact.

When a warm hand finally found her leg she inhaled and looked up into his dark eyes. Inside Nefertiri trembled and Ancksunamun smiled. Imhotep brushed her hair back and pressed his lips against hers. Without thinking she kissed him back. Instantly he drew away, his hands wrapping around her arms as he looked her face over. “Ancksunamun,” he hissed and she laughed. She had only seen him look this unnerved once—when he had found out she was a priestess of Set.

“What is this?” she asked, trying to pull away and failing. “Oh, I have all the passion of a woman and she kisses like a virgin. Is that it? You like them innocent, don’t you?”

In disgust Imhotep pushed her away and moved to block the door. He crossed his arms and glared her down, not giving her an answer. She got up on the bed and watched him in amusement. “Such a shame. We could have had great fun together. Remember our passion? Remember hiding together in the shadows of the great hall, having each other there where no one would see?”

“Let go of her body,” the priest replied simply and firm. She knew this tone, but was not intimidated.

Ancksunamun touched her hair and looked into a mirror across from the bed. “No, Imhotep. I’m not done with it. Nor do I plan on giving it back. To give it back I would either have to accept hell or take a new body. I will not have a body bound to Set again and you know what it takes to unbind a priestess.”

At this he looked away and she could tell it had been in the back of his mind. Ancksunamun slid from the bed and started unbuttoning her shirt. Imhotep glared, but did not shy away when she pulled the shirt open. “I am not the man you ensnared, Ancksunamun. Nor am I your foolish Med-Jai. I will stop you.”

“Won’t you touch me?” she whispered softly, taking his hand and kissing it. “It’s her body and she wants to be touched by you.” He jerked his hand away. Ancksunamun smiled and watched him. “Do you love her enough to sacrifice yourself?”

His eyes became painfully resolved as he looked down and nodded. “I would give all that I am for her.”

Ancksunamun nodded and began to button the shirt the princess had chosen for them. Whether she kept this body or took back her own, Imhotep and Nefertiri would suffer. She knew he would give it all for his little princess. He had for her and they hadn’t even shared such a love as was between he and Nefertiri. “You cannot force me out, Imhotep. The spells that end your life will not wrench my soul from hers. I have to leave by choice, while there is still yet time.” He looked pained at that and she touched his cheek. “Yes, the time will come when she and I are too entwined. The same happened to young Meela when I took her body. But there is yet time if you make the sacrifice. To unbind my servitude from Set a priest of Osiris must be killed. Will you do that, that she and your child might live?”

Imhotep’s eyes flashed and she drew pleasure at the new worry etched on his face. He looked down at her stomach and stretched his fingers, but did not touch her. Ancksunamun took his hand and placed it there for him, whispering words that would show him the small life inside. His hand trembled at the revelation, the emotions changing on his expression. “My daughter,” he breathed, then pulled his hand away. “And if I made the sacrifice? What then?”

“I will free her,” Ancksunamun promised lightly, knowing she could always take it back later. He would be a fool if he didn’t know that as well. “Shall we go, or will you wait until the others can stop you? Then again, perhaps they wouldn’t. Perhaps Nycolaus would bless you for ridding him of your presense. Yet if you fail to save her, you will be no better than he thinks.” She could feel fury pouring through Nefertiri’s spirit.

He did, but his eyes wanted to believe, searched for a way out of this. “I will go,” he finally answered, seeing no alternative. But he didn’t look completely ready to give it all just yet. “I will speak with Akhenre about this. He will free her if you will not.”

It was good enough. Ancksunamun smiled and leaned to kiss him, but he shoved her away in anger. Opening the door, she shook her head and said, “Take care to do this body no harm, Imhotep. Your child is vulnerable still.”

Ancksunamun headed into the hallway without needing to see that he followed. He would do anything for love. She smiled at the irony of the two of them having been together. She would do anything for hate. Nefertiri wept inside.

*

Karri, thanks for the review!! :D Yes, our lovely Ardeth was back. But now…:O ;)

Elenhiril, actually I usually thank my reviewers at the end of the chapter, but you had reviewed behind, so I wanted to email you in case you didn’t get ahead enough to see a thank you at the end of the newest. :) Thanks!! I’m glad you liked! Oh any dude…I saw a LOTR trailor at the movies today and Elrond is gonna be in it!! Heheh…I got afraid cause IMDB didn’t list him in the credits, but there are more Elrond scenes than I initially considered. Woohoo!!!!

Marcher, wow! I’m glad you thought I did Evy well…I always wonder. :D I thought it was time for a scuffle. ;) And wow...what I wouldn’t do for a snog with Imhotep!!!. Thanks!

Lu, thanks for reading and liking. I always saw the humor in Ardeth in the movies, aside from when he was being serious…:O hehehe. So I try to capture that when I can.

Hadassaknamu, thank you for claiming this as one of the faves. :O That’s so sweet! Hehehe. I had no idea Evy came back wrong…sounds like they were trying to open into another storyline, but I hear Rachael said she won’t do another so, doh! I guess you know by now Rick’ll be laying off Immy for a bit. ;) Thanks for giving me a good review. I fear it might be my last for what I did to Rick. :O

Thanks everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! -Angela