Portrait of a Pharaoh • Ahkmenrah x Reader (NATM) ✔️

Chapter 9 | understanding.

You'd sat on the floor with Ahk for a while, just making small talk as he reeled from the panic attack he'd just had. The cat that had wandered into the museum lay in his lap, now taking a nap as he absentmindedly pet it. It was clear he was shaken from the experience, having re-lived a trauma even though it was only a short time in there.

Trauma is trauma, no matter how long.

You weren't expecting him to talk about it, since that kind of thing was hard. And while you'd been coming to the museum for a while now, you were still relatively new around here. But to your surprise, after a while of pointless small talk, he sighed and slouched up against the wall finally relaxing his shoulders.

"You know, (y/n)... as much as I acknowledge and appreciate the fact I got to live a relatively luxurious life in a time that was very harsh... the worst parts of it seem to stick out more than the best parts..." he muttered.

"I think that's true for most people. For some stupid reason we tend to remember the bad over the good" you replied, leaning up against the wall next to him.

You were quite the contrast you two, one in modern clothing with modern accessories and speech patterns, the other wrapped up in old mummy wraps and the aura of someone much older and wiser than anyone modern. But he was still only 19 mentally and physically, sure that was an adult. But that was still young. 4000 years or so was a long time to be coming to life at night, and 54 of them were stuck in a box no one would let you free from.

That must be so confusing for a young person.

"My parents treated me well, don't get me wrong. But my brother wasn't as kind. I know I was the favourite, and I think that angered him a bit. But even so I... tried. I tried to work things out, but he just never listened. I grew to understand WHY I was the favourite, Kah just... had to have everything his own way. He couldn't think of the people, only himself. He wasn't fit to be a pharaoh, and yet..." Ahk began.

His hand subconsciously drifted to his neck, where the faint scar lined his skin.

"He still managed to force his way onto the throne" he sighed.

So the theories about foul play were true, his own brother killed him just for the throne. No wonder Ahk was the favourite child, he wasn't murderous and filled with a desire for power.

"Every time I'm alone with nothing to do to distract me, I just ponder on what might have happened if something went differently. If I'd survived, if I found out his plan before he did it, if our parents found out, if there was anything we could have done to stop his power hungry ways. But deep down I know it would be a fruitless endeavour, he was always a bit... unhinged"

You wanted to ask a million questions, but it was clear he just needed to talk, get things off his chest. So you stayed silent, and just listened.

"And then I wake up one day and find myself in England? I have no idea what's going on, all I know is alot of time has passed, and I can't understand the language. So when I was left alone at night, after everyone studying me went home I'd just wander around and try to learn as much as I could. Reading, sneaking around the university campus looking at the modern world, eavesdropping on people to try and understand what was going on in this day and age. It was interesting yes, but so lonely... I only ever interacted with people by accident, when they'd catch me in the library and assume I was a student from the theatre department or something with my not so modern clothes"

You'd admit the image of Ahk in fill Pharaoh gear surrounded by books on the floor of Cambridges library and some fresh into university kid just rounding the corner to see him, subsequently ending up very confused was amusing. But he had a point, it'd be lonely. There's people around you, there's people talking outside your sarcophagus and yet you can't do anything. To them, you're a corpse. You can't talk to them, or interact in any way.