Ahkmenrah X Reader
Warning: violence, death, graphic descriptions, implied smut
As night descends upon the Natural History Museum, Larry Daily arrives just before the sunsets, finding a large exhibit box in the lobby. His bosses curlicue writing on sticky note: ‘Unpack into Egyptology. On loan from the D.C. archives.’ He hmms, tossing the sticky note onto the desk and glances around. Waiting for the museum to come to life, and just as the last of the light fades off–he hears the subtle creaking of Rex beginning to move.
“Aaaaaa, how are you my boy?!” Larry looks up from the box, giving a half wave to the walking Roosevelt exhibit.
“Same as yesterday, Teddy.” It’s lighthearted as the figure smiles down at Larry, hopping off his horse and looking over the box himself. Inspecting the wood crate, and the red fragile sticker stuck to the side.
“Larry!” The night guard looks up to see Ahkmenrah walking into view, his smile bright and nothing like someone who has spent forever cooped up in that tiny sarcophagus.
“Hey Ahk, just who I needed to see, this is for egyptology. So I thought you’d want to look.” He grabs the information key, or what he thinks would be. “It’s some books, some weapons, and-” His voice trails off as he glances back into the box, eyes wide. “And Ka-ha-mun-raaaaah? Kahamunrah’s wife?” Larry gives up on the name. “A mummy. It’s a mummy.”
Ahkmenrah’s expression falls quickly as he rushes forward to read the paper himself, his eyes scan the page and his demeanor darkens as he reads the name of the wife. A dull echo of banging begins to reach his ears, but Ahkmenrah stops Larry from unpacking the box further just yet–a feeling of unease having settled in the room.
“Wait!” Ahkmenrah inhales deeply, “Just wait.” Ahkmenrah pulls out one of the historical books, and opens to the familiar page that details his life. Ahkmenrah’s life. He points at a picture of what would have been a recreation of your face. “That’s Y/N Y/L/N, and she’s the one in this box.” He begins to speak quickly…
Ahkmenrah stands at the palace entrance, his hands folded behind his back as you arrive with your parents. Your father is imposing and your mother endearing, and you are-Ahkmenrah smiles, seeing the softness of your expression. You are awe inspiring. He bows his head as the trio bows lowly to the Prince of Egypt. Their future pharoah. While your father walks off with the war generals, as your mother speaks with the ladies. You look up at the Prince with a smile, your cheeky grin mirroring one of his own as he walks towards you.
“Greeted by Prince Ahkmenrah. I must be special.” He always looked forward to your visits, and the kindness you often showed him with your doting gifts. You traveled with your father, gathering treasures from near and far. Things Ahkmenrah had never seen before, and those knick knacks brought him great joy when you left for months at a time.
“Only if you brought me something.” Your eyes go wide and expression flabbergasted as you laugh. It is a pleasant sound, one that brings a smile to his lips as he moves closer to you.
“Is that all I’m good for? Gifts?” He shrugs, inching closer as his eyes glance around to find the others all gone. Not that anyone would say anything. You were as good as promised to Ahkmenrah, chosen by him above anyone else. He embraces you tightly, his arms lifting you with ease as he spins you around.
“What can I say? Your immaculate taste is superior to anyone else’s gifts.” They’re not gold, or jewels, or things people give to him usually. They are things only you would think to give someone as a gift, specifically him. Once your feet touch the ground, his hands still resting on your biceps with your hands on his waist–just smiling up at him.
“Hmmmm…” You tilt your head back, lips pressed together before sighing and giving in. “I guess your compliments will work this time around.” He gladly returns the smile, as you begin walking towards the palace. His hands fold neatly behind his back as he follows beside you, a skip in his step that was not there earlier. “So what have I missed?” Ahkmenrah thinks for a second, leaning over as he sways.
“Well…” He pauses, “The Pharaoh has made a decision, one he plans to announce tonight, but…” Ahkmenrah draws out his words, his eyes are still joyful, but an unease forms in the pit of your stomach.
“But I wanted to be the one to tell you.” You stiffen, this sounds important. Like the kind of thing he shouldn’t be telling you at all. “I’m to be married by the end of the seventh sunset.” You completely stop in your step, your gift heavy in the pouch and your chest heavier. You feel as though someone- “To you.” At first, you do not register it. Completely, and blissfully unaware of it, but it does register and your smile grows. Everything feels as though it is on fire.
Face to face, you leap into him and feel Ahkmenrah catch you–swaying as he does and you smile. All you can do is smile for a moment. Nothing could ruin this, absolutely nothing could make this better than if you were marrying him tonight.
“That might just top my gift.” You hum, feeling him lower you to the ground, but this time, Ahkmenrah keeps you close. His parents had asked him months ago about marriage, and he pleaded with his father to consider you. You were the only child of the richest merchant, your family had wealth spanning the globe–recognition from other empires and it would be a wise match. But Ahkmenrah also explained his love for you, which will make his rule stronger.
“Oh Y/N, nothing tops something from you.” You could give him a scarf and it would mean the world, and he would shake the heavens and sky to show his thanks.
The banquet comes and goes, the room applauds the engagement and your parents smile with glee. You wooed a pharaoh, and would now take your place as one of the most powerful people in Egypt. You also fell in love, and while that mattered less, it still mattered to them. All through the night and into the early morning, Ahkmenrah does not leave your side even when his lips stain red from wine. He remains solidly at your hip, never too far and never out of reach.
You feel him lean into you, while you do not drink wine, Ahkmenrah accepted far too many glasses and soon enough, you were stumbling through the palace with his arm extended over your neck. His smile is lopsided and eyes dazed as he is unable to stop himself from staring.
“Y/N, did you know you’re beautiful?” You smile to yourself, blushing at the hundredth compliment.
“Ahkmenrah, you’ve only said it thirty times tonight alone.” You listen to the low hum as he leans his head onto your shoulder, which makes it significantly harder to walk towards his room.
“Did I now?” You lightly laugh, taking on more of his weight and continuing the trek.
“Oh yes, and you’ve poured your heart out twice in the last hour.” He nods, his smile growing and so does yours.
You reach his rooms though and the posted guards open the door, and you’d be blind to not notice one of them smiling at the Prince’s constant string of compliments. You murmur a ‘thank you’ before guiding him towards his bed.
Ahkmenrah feels your hands slip away as he sits on the edge of his bed, and he reaches out–making grabby hands as he tries to focus on your form. But the world began to go in and out of focus several hours ago. “Y/NNNNNNNNNN.” You sign, coming closer and placing either of his cheeks in the palm of your hands, feeling the sharp angles, but also soft skin.
“Don’t leave…” You are hesitant as you feel him guiding you towards the pillows, “You always leave, and now you can’t leave.” His words are laced with sadness, and it forces you to recall one thing that sits heavy on your shoulders. It has crossed your mind once or twice, because marrying Ahkmenrah prevents you from traveling as you used to–and you feel guilty for even thinking like that because you do love him.
“I’m just going to my rooms…” You brush dark curls from his forehead, smiling as he lulls. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With soft steps, you retreat from his rooms and begin the walk towards your rooms. The halls are longer now and much quieter, and when steps creep up behind you–unease bubbles to the surface. Something about those heavy steps doesn’t sit right with you. You walk faster and so do they, and you inhale sharply–daring to glance behind, but slow when you see its Kahmunrah.
“Sweet Y/N, you seemed to be rushing. Running away from your promise already.” You smile tightly at the eldest prince, but not the heir. That title belonged to Ahkmenrah alone.
“To your disappointment, no.” He keeps pace with you until the words leave your lips, and then he is grabbing your wrist roughly. Pulling you towards him, his eyes just as dark as you remember them. “So I guess you don’t get to kill me just yet.” Kahmunrah’s fingers tighten, and you feel the bruises forming already. The ache extends into the bone.
“Y/N, you’ll never leave this palace again. Regardless of what happens.” Your eyes flicker from his eyes, to his hand and then back, daring him to hold you any longer. “Take care to remember your commitments. Your priorities.” He smiles, but it is not kind or warm–lacking both entirely.
“I don’t need your veiled threats. I know what has to be done.” His eyes and expression fall completely, and you try not to shake under his glare.
“Trust me. I haven’t even begun to threaten you yet.” But he walks away, and you are left to your thoughts and anxiety. The worry plaguing you time and time again, so much so that sleep becomes impossible.
Exhaustion is creeping up on you, but still you follow through with every celebration and event that follows the announcement banquet. It feels like all of Egypt is outside the palace, waiting for a glimpse of the future Pharaoh’s bride, but you feel disgusting–you feel unworthy. Your bed is not as soft, the walls much too echoey and the noise of the palace seems to dance through the room. Every noise.
There are two brief knocks and then the doors are open, to which you know it is Ahkmenrah… He is stunning as usual, he’s always been perfect even as a child. You would play in the garden’s together for hours on end, your mother’s watching fondly with those knowing looks.
Even then, everyone knew.
“Dearest… Are you alright? You don’t seem yourself.” You roll over, avoiding eye contact as the pillows embrace your form. The distance does not last long as he climbs into the bed, and lies so close your noses are almost touching. “I’m worried…” You try to smile, but he sees right through the attempt and shakes his head. His eyes are full of warmth. “Please? Just tell me… We’re to be married.”
“I can’t sleep…” You mumble, leaving out the why–shrugging when he asks and he just accepts it which hurts even more. You wish he would beg to know, plead, because you’ve never been able to lie to those beautiful brown eyes. He embraces you close and weaves his fingers into your hair, he hushes your thoughts and breaks down your worry. For a second, you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat beneath your head.
Hours passed with you in his arms, Ahkmenrah did not dare move as he went still, then drifted off himself. Were you this worried about marrying him? That you couldn’t even sleep, his own anxiety was more about if it’ll be enough? If he did things the right way? Or needed to do more? He didn’t worry about making you happy, because he had done that your whole life, but now that doubt is beginning to set in.
Ahkmenrah woke slowly, seeing the eyes of his father staring back at him with perplexion as he raised an eyebrow. “Curious…” But he never heard a word after that, save for his mother wacking his arm the next time she saw him.
Yet somehow, you still stand at the edge of forever with Ahkmenrah, your wedding came and went–it passed faster than a blink. The ceremony was long and elaborate, and the banquet that followed lasted for the entire night and once morning came–Ahkmenrah was guiding you to his rooms. Your rooms, as he said. Your stomach twists in a knot as the door opens, the guards gone from their post, but Ahkmenrah says nothing.
You smile up at him as he shuts the door tight, and begins to remove the many jewels that crowd both of your forms. His hands are delicate and every touch is brief, his fingers never linger anywhere too long as his gaze does not waiver. The sensation of your heart pounding in your chest would be enough to shake your entire form, but it doesn’t because he keeps you steady. That’s just who Ahkmenrah is.
“Even without gold, you are the greatest treasure I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He whispers, it’s like the words are caught in his throat–like long lulls of music. You tilt your head, studying his expression as he speaks, before stepping forward cautiously. Your eyes just briefly drift down to his chest before reverting back to his eyes, under the light of the fires, his eyes shine brighter than they ever have. Either palm rests on his chest as you bring yourself closer than before, your hands drag until they reach around his neck to undo the ties of the neck adornments.
The clatter of the garments echo off the stone, but walls keep their secrets when he rushes forward to embrace your entire body into his arms. Before, when his lips would brush your own during goodbyes or when he would kiss the back of your hand. They lingered, but you wished they could stay against your skin forever. Every touch and kiss, you feel as though you could live forever beneath warmth.
You tighten your arms around his neck, letting him naturally deepen the kiss as his chest presses heavily into your body–his lips rest just above yours as he speaks in a hum: “My beautiful Queen…”
He looks at you as if you are the most beautiful thing in the universe, as if there were not enough jewels and gold to compare to you. That kind of look, it should send shivers down your spine, but instead you feel a swell of anxiety mount. Yet his kisses shut the feelings away as your back presses into the mattress–when all is said, and all is done–you love Ahkmenrah.
So much so that as his lips trail down your neck, and you catch a glimpse of the flames from your place in the pillows–you try to let the comfort embrace you. But the flames twinkle and fade away, and your eyes blur from the mist that forms. His hands brace on either side of your body, but once the flame has completely extinguished–there begins the echo of swords.
Ahkmenrah’s eyes widen as he sits up, his attention shifting, but as the swords fade away–you see him shake it off, as if pushing it to the back of his mind. However, when the screams begin to bounce off the walls like the applause from earlier, Ahkmenrah climbs to his feet. His steps are hesitant as the dissent grows closer to the door, but it leaves him open to one attack. One moment, because he didn’t think the attack would come from you.
Your hand curls around the hilt of the blade, the memory of leaving it there when you brought him to his chambers wine drunk, enters your mind. You see it flash, as your face contorts and eyes mist over. You wish you could close your eyes, and let someone else do the deed, but you can’t. Instead, you release a long held breath and crawl to your feet. Ahkmenrah never saw it comes, but as you reach around quickly and push the blade deep into his chest–you begin to sob, finally able to make a sound.
All of Egypt moves in slow motion, every noise in the palace is muted as you feel him grow weary beneath your palms. His body going limp as he locks his gaze on you, those brown eyes full of betrayal. Using whatever strength you can muster, you drag him onto the bed and feel as if the Gods are ripping your skin away–layer by layer. Every nerve is exposed as you cry out, for Ahkmenrah, for the only love you ever knew. You cup his cheeks, his tears burn your hands and you wish they would scar you forever–to carve up your skin, in the same way that you feel.
Maybe then your heart would hurt less.
“I’m so sorry….” You break down, kissing his temple as you see him struggle to breath. Every break in breath that he tries to grasp, seems to shutter and lock. “I will never forgive myself… I-I am-m sorry.” You tremble, your body swaying as the entire future you imagined for yourself falls from the heavens. No one will ever forgive you for this, and you don’t expect Ahkmenrah to. Not that it matters, you see the blood sputter from his lips as he chokes on the essence meant to keep him alive. You listen to him struggle, hear his pain and its your own personal torture as you press your forehead to his, and just for a moment–he is only your love.
“I’ll make it all stop.” You whisper the words, but your suffering has only begun. You adjust your grip, the angle and run the blade deeper. And if he could be betrayed further, his eyes would have darkened a shade.
You had to do this, end his suffering–you can only look at him before you scream. You let your cries break the walls of the palace, and burn into the memories of all that can hear. Your heart shattered before you, a blade run through his heart entirely. You did this.
You just didn’t know the last thing he heard was your screams, and for a moment, he felt pity for you.
Larry’s eyes go wide as Ahkmenrah finishes, his eyes locked on the box and the book in the Pharaoh’s hands. “So…We’re not…” Ahkmenrah glances down at the box, the pounding having faded off the moment he began to speak. Maybe his own voice shocked you enough, just as your sudden appearance here.
“They were my wife first.” He whispers quietly, every fiber of his being had thought you died right after him. Larry didn’t even think it was possible for Ahkmenrah to cry, had never seen him emotional like this, but his eyes have glassed over. Yet the softness does not last as he throws the book onto the box, the clatter echoing through the quiet museum. “MY WIFE?!” The pounding regains its muster, and this time, Larry can hear the screams as Ahkmenrah walks away.
Larry clasps his hands together, glancing at his watch– wow, only an hour, he still has ten more hours in here. As much as he wants to keep this crazy woman away from his friend, he has to unpack the exhibit. No one helps the nightguard, you were frightening to them–someone who hurt their friend.
It is a slow process, and meticulous as he sets aside the relics–books, goblets, crowns, jewels, and a blade. You have gone still, and as Larry pries open the lid to the box that contains you–he is shocked to see you curled into the wood. You do not look at him, but instead speak hushly.
“The universe in all its cruelty has brought me here to face my sins.” There is a tremor to your voice, Ahkmenrah described you as jovial, but you seem as though you were broken many times over.
“Yeah well, you did kill him.” You side eye the man, before sitting up just enough to look him in the eye.
“It was me, or his Kahmunrah… I made it quick…” You pause, “Kahmunrah was going to hang him from a post and whip him until he died.” Even in death, as you rise from the box and onto your feet, Larry sees regalty. You are dressed ornately. “I gave him mercy.”
“Did you tell him that?” He holds out his hand and guides you out of the box, your bare feet touching the cool floor.
“It was always my burden to bare.”
You walk the halls of the museum with curiosity, the world has changed so much. Things are different, the air feels different, but you don’t. You feel the guilt of your life, and the pain of your death echo through every step. Larry had offered to give you a tour, but the idea of being near someone after so long, makes your stomach twist in a knot. Familiarity begins to form as the walls turn to stone, and the statues become reminiscent of the palace… Then you see him, and you stop entirely.
What is air? You don’t know because your lungs are stuck in a single position, and unable to inhale. He looks the same, stunning–with beautiful brown eyes, full of betrayal. Just as you remember.
“Go…” His voice is lower, and you cannot bring yourself to walk closer, or walk away. You just go still. Ahkmenrah finally looks at you. “Why can’t you just go?” The pain is becoming clearer, visible in the glassiness of his eyes.
“I never loved him… I swear…” You close your eyes, but force yourself to look at him. To face your punishment. “Ahkmenrah… I did my best for you, he was going to torture you. Going to prolong your pain, until begged.” Your lip trembles as you find the courage to step forward, “I wanted you to go quick, I thought he’d kill me for taking that away from him.”
Ahkmenrah watches you crumble as a thought hits him, one that is heartbreaking. “You don’t look any older.”
“He wanted to be you, so he married me and took your throne. And when he found out that I would never love him, he gave me the death, he planned for you.” You struggle to find the words, but Ahkmenrah knows there true. He knows Kahmunrah, in all his cruelty, would do that. You raise your shoulders back and close your eyes, before dropping to your knees. “I submit to your judgement, as my king.”
You do not dare open your eyes as the last words leave your lips, you go still with your palms laid out on your thighs. Your head bent, you hold only the honor that you never bowed to Kahmunrah. You may not see him, but you feel him standing in front of you–the closest you’ve been in centuries.
He does not strike you. Or throw you. Or yell. Instead, you feel his hands wrap around yours, and the ache begins to grow. Your chest is expanding and your heart pounding, just as it did then. So you open your eyes and find him knelt in front of you, and you get to look him eye to eye.
“I never wanted to be your king. Only your love.”
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