[Amon/Alex's POV]
After meeting Ma'at, there were no new god-visits and Alex had gotten a taste of Amon's daily life.
In Amon's memories, Alex could see Amon's father, pharaoh Mentuhotep II, having daily meetings with army officers, architects and scribes. It had been a necessity back then, because before Mentuhotep II had conquered the whole of Egypt, the land had been divided. It suffered under the influence of other nations and the classic Egyptian customs were spread thin.
To counter this, Mentuhotep II had renovated countless deteriorated temples, build a few new ones and even threw in some forts to help defend Egypt from other countries.
Mentuhotep II had been stabilizing the country for more than 30 years, and now that he was gone, there wasn't anything left for Amon to do.
Festivities and religious practices were managed by priest.
Safety and defence by generals.
Taxes and education by scribes.
Most of them with a lifetime of experience.
The country was healthy, strong enough to be feared by other countries, and the customs had been restored.
Nobody needed their "young" ruler, which was just another source of frustration for Amon. All that was left for him to do was to tend to his own family (which he didn't have) and act as a pretty representative at festivities (which he hated).
And there were A LOT of festivities.
The first day of Alex's flashback-leap had been new years day. In ancient Egypt the new year marked the start of the flooding season, which meant in turn that a lot of farmers had nothing to do.
Of course, not all of them. The Egyptians could choose to do manual labour while the flood prevented them to farm their lands. But the richest of them most likely wouldn't.
And what did they do when boredom struck? That's right they partied.
The Egyptians had more festivities in a month than Alex could muster. In the month Thoth alone, six days were reserved annually for lavish feasts and banquets. To Alex's futuristic mind it felt a little over the top. As if someone had decided to hold Easter, Christmas and new year three days in a row, twice! It was ridiculous and Alex was getting tired of all the over-indulging.
That mindset proved to be problematic since he was sitting in the middle of the feast of drunkenness. There were musicians, dancers, entertainers and of course lots of food, wine and beer. Everywhere people were dancing, singing and eating to their heart's content. It all looked rather joyous, but Alex couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was wasting his time.
At first, he thought it was best to act as Amon always did; honour the gods by drinking the night away, but he simply couldn't. The taste of wine was getting duller each time someone refilled his cup and frankly he was bored out of his mind.
Amon was sitting at a table near some dancers with some of his top generals. Most of the generals had already been serving under the previous pharaoh's rule and some of the older ones were sporting potbellies. It looked like they'd gotten too accustomed to peace. Amon guessed they wouldn't last long if an enemy country were to attack.
None of them tried to talk to Amon. Some of them were disappointed with him for not reaching his father's image or influence, others were simply afraid to become a target to his anger.
Things might have been different if his brother had been here to talk to, but regrettably he was elsewhere.
Amon watched one of the generals pass out and finally made up his mind. Duty to the public or not, he'd had enough. He wanted to go home, so he stood up and left.
He REALLY felt like punching someone... Something! He meant something.
"Shit, I'm more drunk than I thought," Amon mumbled as he tried to clear the haze from his thoughts. "I have to get out of here."
He'd been walking for some time in the direction he thought would lead him home, but the longer he walked, the less familiar his surroundings looked. Amon's mind was too fogged up to care though. He reached out to steady himself on a land post but missed.
Instead of steadying, he found himself tumbling.
A loud splash resounded, and the next thing he knew, he was enveloped in cold, pitch-black darkness. He wanted to gasp at the sudden change in temperature, but found his lungs burning as there was no air to inhale.
"I'm going to die!"
That thought in itself caused yet another shock. Was he panicking? Fuck, why was everything so much harder when you were drunk?
Luckily for him, adrenaline had kicked in and together with the cold, it cleared his head enough to find a way out.
He calmed enough to look around and found a big white light shining brightly, in the spot which he thought was left under him. Amon guessed that light was his way out and swam towards it.
He gasped for much needed air as he broke the surface of the water and tried to push the panic down as he scrambled for dry land. With trembling hands he clawed himself onto the nearest slope, coughed up the water he'd accidentally inhaled earlier and collapsed on his back, breathing heavily.
The bright full moon dominated his vision. His lungs burned with every breath. That could have ended horribly wrong. It nearly had. Amon quietly thanked the gods. If it hadn't been for the bright full moon, he'd never been able to find his way out of the water.
By the looks of it he had clumsily stumbled into one of the flooding canals. They were meant to distribute water to the fields more evenly and control the flood if the water were to rise too high. They definitely were NOT meant for swimming.
When he finally felt calm enough to sit up again, it felt like hours had passed by, even though it probably only had been a few minutes. Either way, nobody had come to his rescue. Nobody had come to ask if he was alright.
He was alone.
A pang shot through his heart at the realization. It was a new feeling to Alex, but Amon seemed to know it all too well. It frightened the both of them. His position as a pharaoh suddenly felt like a very feeble thing. No, it was worse than that. As if he had been denied his place on earth. As if he was unneeded. As if the world was trying to get rid of him and he was clumsily hanging on.
His destructive thoughts were cut short by the quiet sound of crying. The sound was so faint that it was a miracle that it had caught his attention, but his attention it had.
Amon frowned to the sound and turned his head to determine which direction it came from. It sounded so sad, so heart wrenching.
"It sounds wrong," Amon thought. Yet, felt himself drawn towards it. So he stood up and followed it.
He found a small shack made of mud-bricks. A feint light glowed inside. The wide open door allowed Amon a view into the one-room-house without entering it.
There was a small oil lamp illuminating the figures of two small boys, crying over the body of a woman. The woman lay on a heap of straw, covered by a blanket. She lay very still. Amon realized with a start that she wasn't breathing. On closer inspection, the smell in the room was really foul and some flies had already started to swarm.
Amon pulled the boys reflexively away from their mother and pulled them outside with him. They screamed as if they were being slaughtered. They kicked and trashed to get away from him. To get back to their mother. But Amon didn't let go.
That woman had probably been sick. And depending on the illness, it might have been contagious. It might have been lethal.
"Hush, hush boys," Amon said as he kneeled and hugged them tightly to his body. "She is gone. There is nothing you can do for her."
At his words, the boys froze. They seemed to contemplate for a moment if the man who'd pulled them away from their mother could be trusted, but finally they broke down into tears and clung to Amon as if their lives depended on it.
"It's ok, it's ok," he chuckled as the boys nearly smothered him.
"Take them and raise them as your own," he heard Ma'at her words echo in his thoughts. So these are the boys she was talking about? They were young. They couldn't be more than four, maybe five years old. They looked willing enough to go with him though.
Amon stilled and listened to their wailing for a moment. It was no longer the same crying that had drawn him to the shack. The boys must have been terrified. With their mother no longer breathing and no-one else in sight. They were left behind. All alone. To fend for themselves.
That's when he realized he would have taken them with him even if the goddess hadn't asked him to do so.
He released a deep sigh, stood up and picked the boys up in his arms. They were heavier than he'd anticipated, but he'd made up his mind to carry them home.
Or maybe not home. Maybe he'd make a very necessary stop somewhere else first.
"Dear gods, anyone who is listening, please light my way back home," he quickly muttered a prayer and took off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later, Amon had found Merenre's house.
"KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!" the sound echoed through the street as he rammed his fist on the door.
"Yes! Yes! I'm coming! Who insists on waking my household at this ungodly hour?!" Merenre yelled as he pulled open the front door, but stilled and gaped as he saw Amon with one sleeping child on his arm, and holding the hand of a second, very tired boy.
"Oh, good you're home. I wasn't sure you would be," Amon mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. The sight of Merenre's flabbergasted face was priceless.
"Amon? Is that you?!" he asked confused. "Wha-, Who are these boys?"
"They are mine," he answered with a resolution to his voice, leaving his brother with no room to argue. "Come with me."
"Wouldn't you rather come inside?" Merenre asked.
"No, I don't want to jeopardize your family. I think their mother might have been ill before she died. I want you to check if they are healthy."
"Sick? And you're carrying one? Going out of your way to bring them here?" Merenre asked confusion still dripping from his voice and then it hit him. "They're the boys from the prophecy!"
Amon nodded.
"Let me grab my things, I'll be right there."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not long after, the boys were lying in a bed together, fast asleep. An oil lamp was burning, but it cast a very orange-yellow light, distorting all colour.
"As far as I can see, they aren't sick. Just exhausted and a little dehydrated. I'd have to do a thorough examination tomorrow to be sure though. When there is more light and they're actually awake," Merenre sighed as he pulled the blanket a little higher around the boys' shoulders and yawned. It was clear he'd rather be elsewhere. But still, Amon was glad he was here.
"Try to get some sleep," Merenre advised as his eyes roamed Amon's face.
"I will. Thank you, brother."
He was surprised to hear the exhaustion he felt resounding in his voice. Honestly, he needed to concentrate to stop his limbs from shaking. Carrying the boys for hours really had taken its toll.
"Come on, I'll put you to bed," Merenre said in a patronizing way.
"I can take care of myself!" Amon interjected.
"I know you can. I just don't trust you to do so," Merenre said as he went to stand in the doorway. "Come on."
"No, I'll sleep here with them. I don't want them to panic when they wake up in the morning."
"Amon," Merenre said once again in a very condescending way. "They will be your sons from now on. You need to be strict from the very start, otherwise they'll walk right over you!"
Amon chuckled. "Talking from experience, brother?"
"Amon!" Merenre scolded humorlessly. "You need to sleep in your own bed. You look exhausted! You won't be able to sleep when they're near."
Amon contemplated this for a moment. "Won't you let it slide? Just this once?"
"No!" Merenre said and grabbed Amon by the elbow with a sense of finality. So Amon let himself be dragged to his own room.
Just for the record; if Amon had wanted to resist, Merenre wouldn't have been able to move him at all. Ever since Merenre had switched careers, his physical growth had slowed considerably, making Amon the largest and strongest of the two.
Merenre tucked him in like he had tucked in the little children and left for his own home.
"I'll return in the morning," he said before he closed the door behind him.
Amon closed his eyes, thinking he would drift asleep within seconds, but sleep wouldn't come. He lay in bed, tossing and turning, one moment too warm, the next too cold. He was lying on his back, staring up at the stars painted on his ceiling. He could barely see them in the darkness of his room. It wouldn't be long anymore until the sun would rise.
He was just about to call it a night, when he heard two pair of footsteps outside his room. Then the door opened so quietly that he almost hadn't heard it. That were the boys, right? What were they up to so early in the morning? Amon decided to keep quiet and see what they would do.
He didn't have to wait long. They climbed almost immediately into bed next to him. To Amon's surprise, they felt cold to the touch. Was that why they'd woken up so early? Despite their exhaustion? Had they come to look for him? Luckily, the boys had found their way to his room. Amon didn't dare to think of what would have happened if they'd gotten lost.
They both snuggled close to him and he wrapped an arm around them. It wasn't long before he heard their even breaths and realized they had fallen asleep again. The sound of their breathing calmed him and it wasn't long before sleep claimed him too.