I N T E R L U D E

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Chapter 17: The Lion's Sons

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

Salma II

2012 - Saqqara

She stepped out of the vehicle, one heel at a time before she brushed her trousers down and gazed up at the building in front of her. Her eyes wandered down to the entrance, a small smirk on her lips as she saw the open nerves of the staff bustling to grab her luggage from the boot of the car. With sunglasses perched between the bridge of her nose, she sighed in a manner that could make any man's knees tremble before gliding up the steps.

The home of the Order of Snakes in Saqqara was beautiful. With ornate open skylines and an art deco feeling with the gold metallic paint and white and black marbled floor. The hall was lined with pillars, engraved with hieroglyphics whilst the ceiling depicted the constellations with lights. Modern, yet out of time, it described the taste of Salma Atkins and her choices in lavish things.

A man dressed in black informed her that she would find him in his study and she nodded before proceeding to head down into the house towards the familiar black double doors. 

Salma neither knocked nor waited, allowing the other to open the door before allowing herself in to find the man busy with work.

Djedefre was an enigmatic man.

His mind went a thousand times a second and often was lost in thought at any part of the day. When she first met the first son of Khufu, he gave her one look before politely excusing himself to continue with his study, making Salma twitch in annoyance at the man. For an ancient person, Djedefre was solely focused on the pages and scrolls around him instead of the world.

Though for Salma, that was her first mistake in picturing who he was. As a person, he valued knowledge over everything else, and never bothered about the schematics of war. When placed on a battlefield, Djedefre wore his title with pride and honesty. He was precise in how he fought, both in combat and strategy. Salma often wondered if his mind ever slept as there was always something riling his brain as he sat silently – glancing over a large map of Egypt on the table.

As much as he was focused on his thoughts, he did tilt his head upwards to greet her. 

"Atkins."

"Abbas," She replied.

The bland greeting made her glance to her side. She found two guards stationed beside the door, their eyes directed at their leader. In a second, Djedefre commanded a phrase in Arabic before the two marched out of the office leaving just Salma and him to silence.

He looked every bit like any nobility of the 21st Century, relaxed in an unbuttoned dress shirt and black trousers. His hair was sleeked back and his beard was trimmed neatly to outline his jawline.

"I was not expecting you until...three days." Djedefre poured halfway, before tightening the bottle.

She thanked him for the wine with a nod and toasted each other.

"I was able to finish work early." Her eyes averted up to the man and said, "Surely that won't be an issue."

There was a shake from Djedefre's head, silently sitting down at his spot on the sofas before they shared a sip from their relative glasses on the glass table.

When Salma placed her glass back down, she changed the subject and asked, "Anyhow, how far are we in construction?"

"Construction of the Artefact is delayed. We had to return to New York in order to confide with Cecil Fredricks on Samuel Fredricks' notes." He responded accordingly, darting his eyes across his desk before he nodded back in her direction, "In the coming few months we'll be able to begin the design of the mould."

"And the gold?" She questioned. Despite knowing the answer, Salma still wanted confirmation of the news. 

Thankfully the news which was written to her was right just as Djedefre answered accordingly, "Already extracted and refined." He straightened himself up; the man never showed himself relaxed even for one such as him.  "The Lion is operating it."

Salma could only nod firmly, knowing it was better to remain agreeable and not to ask further questions. "Operations in the East?" She inquired.

"In progress. Soon we'll have full control of the coast, the Northern coast will be an issue," He told her - causing her to purse her lips in return.

There was no reason to hide it as she then simply put: "Yes. I must admit we are having issues." Her voice grew heavy, her tone growing tight as she tried not to show her annoyance with a certain archaeologist-forensic scientist. "Miss Everett-Bates is causing a deal in accepting the terms of gaining her dig site."

It didn't help when the moment she commented about her, Djedefre simply looked at her before he tilted his head and replied in argument, "She is related to the Guardian, she won't be swayed easily."

The mention of the name had altered the atmosphere of the room, growing stagnant in every passing second. It lingered almost like a stench, making even Salma's noise twitch. She could tolerate the mention of Henrietta Everett-Bates, the woman who had only been more of a nuisance.

But Rowena Elizabeth Clarke - she was the cause of her slip. She declined Salma's help and assurance, disregarding even the slightest sympathy and openness she had given her. She allowed Clarke to see the truth: to realise how disastrous Khafre and the royals were. And instead, the Guardian stubbornly refused to see it, preferring to choose those she loved than those who would finally give her answers.

Her hands tightened slightly just as she was about to get her glass, but before she could begin snapping back she quickly changed the subject. "Saqqara is doing well, under your management."

Djedefre's expression meekly altered, but he quickly remained plain as he hummed. "And I must thank you with that," His voice turned into a bland tone, almost hesitation from her understanding whilst he continued, "A hundred years since your...conquest has allowed you to give extensive research to the secrets of my ancestors."

After she took a sip, Salma peered at him. It was no secret that she knew he shared slight displeasure with her...let us just say her methods of power. A typical note she never forgot and never changed. Why should she choose to alter her plans when she knew it was the most effective path to take?

But to at least keep him less displeased, she drank another sip before she pointed out, "There's a but in there."

"I appreciate your help in gaining control over the areas in Egypt, but I have doubts," He sighed heavily, finally showing the exhaustion in his tone as he leaned back on his chair.

"On..."

Djedefre eyed her. "On your plans to extend our cause to the Mediterranean countries."

"It is not an expansion in either way. Call it finally showing ourselves in the world. We've worked so hard for centuries, living amongst society. Influencing history as it should of the present for the sake of this. It is time to show our work under our name," That was the argument she had of this. She knew it was not wrong of them to do so. If they were to do this, it should be for their gratitude to the people they are planning to help.

So many of them would understand that what they are working for would be for the bigger picture. For the greater good.

Then it all seemed to plummet as he stared at her coldly. "South America is failing, Adara." Djedefre stated, his voice crisp as he emphasised, "We do not have the numbers to risk this. We cannot grow when one thing is letting us behind."

It was there she snapped - though her voice remained stable and quiet as she said, "I am not your blood, Djedefre. Neither your family." She felt her chest erupt in a heated flame, letting her own fire dissipate through her words. "You may question my choices, but I hold the title that has brought countries down."

"Oh yes, a wise decision in assassinating that young president. And so was putting a woman as the head of the British Government." Djedefre scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he then planted the glass atop the table. With a startling ring, he said with a sharpened tone: "Adara, the focus is this prophecy."

Salma's hand flexed again, her mind having to pause over the name he gave her. But instead of dwelling further, she could not help but turn the focus to him. The man before him, immortal or not, it didn't matter. 

And why she tightened her lips, twitching the corners of her mouth as then carefully spoke, "I can see in your mind. You think of me as if I was your brother." The words were quiet and yet it had made Djedefre sharpen his position, his eyes widening as she added, "Don't worry. I am not pigheaded as he was. Unless...you're afraid."

Djedefre remained to gaze at her. Whether he was trying to scold her or pretending to set her on fire - there was no denying that it was the truth. Either he was doubting that she was becoming like his brother...

"Oh..." She breathed in, realising the truth as she revealed: "The Lion's son is afraid of his little brother." 

Never had she known for this enigmatic and intelligent man to have a fear. But for his own fear being his brother was something else. Salma could not help but be surprised but almost amused at it. Khafre was terrifying and a terrible person to exist, obvious by the fear which struck those of the Order.

However, she always believed Djedefre was the brother to be aware of. He was unpredictable due to his tactics. And most of all: he would yet place logic over the emotions and feelings of himself and others for the sake of duty.

It was why her body seemed to shiver as he stared at her, lowly warning her: "You didn't know him as I did. You may threaten me with your words, Adara." Djedefre inhaled through his nostril before he continued, "But I know you; I brought you up. And you are holding back your own duty."

The words struck her cold, leaving her to pause as she stared back at him. She was afraid to look away in case it meant that she refused his statement.

But it was true. She was holding back the one thing she had savoured her entire life. Yes, she was selfish; her family was the only thing that was keeping her at this level. Her ambitions and loyalty to the Order were not only for her - but for them and her children.

And she could not let them go because of it.

Between her and the man across her: this was the only difference laid before them. He would never understand how she felt. Being a mother to two children, to love them as a parent should and not for the sake of a god's wishes. Unlike Djedefre: moulded since his birth all those centuries ago, he would do anything for his father because of duty.

Djedefre never blinked as he recalled once more, "You must understand your eldest cannot be the exception. It is the rule."

Inhaling deeply, Salma refrained from closing her eyes before she replied, "Winterson has established that, yes." As she finally finished her glass, she then eyed him before eyeing the files that were still on the desk. She needed to leave soon, no less she wished to try and have the man before he have one less eye to see.

So with a gritted tone, she plastered a cool facade as Salma finally spoke, "Now, if these are the files completed I am off. Good day."

There was no response from him, making it clear again that the Lion's son was just as he was before. All whilst for her: all she could do was hide the cracks in her heart as her own parental figure silently allowed her to leave.

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

2013 - Oxford

A teenage girl snapped a photo on her phone whilst the older-appearing man posed in front. Beside him was another girl, younger than the other - her face creased into a grin whilst the former showed an exasperating expression before dropping her hand down. The child jumped from her spot, excitement in her very body as the man, assumed their father, smiled at both his children before ushering them through the pathway and into the other side of the wall.

The botanical gardens in Oxford city were a beauty to behold, though albeit cold and dry they still remained warm.

Salma always respected this city. It was the same place she once took her husband - before they got married - and the same place he would then propose to her. In fact, it was rather poetic that he would propose at the same place she was in right now. All whilst unknown to him, she would be seeing the familiar faces of him and their children enjoying the place they treasured.

There would always be a method of sentiment for her despite how many perceived her to be heartless and logical: she still tended to her family. Even after almost a year since the reminder struck her once more, there was care in her choices both for them and the Order.

Unfortunately, this would be the last time she would finally see them.

Even if it meant they wouldn't know it.

"Is this a new parenting method?" The voice behind her wondered, "I would not describe stalking as one of them."

"Do be quiet."

They stood inside the greenhouse, the humidity evident from the smoke as it warmed them. Salma quickly unflexed her hand, brushing lightly against the small ring of gold on her finger before she took out a small round object from her handbag. 

As she did so, she gazed upon the small mirror she held up. Her eyes wandered from behind, spotting the obvious appearance of the Lion's son looking back at her. He wore a dark overcoat over his business wear, no lint nor hair out of place as he stood patiently.

Djedefre idly cut the silence, "They still think you are in Egypt."

Snapping the small pocket mirror, Salma sweetly smiled back. "Yes. Until the project is completed," She spoke, a disdain of displeasure in her tone.

When she placed her mirror back, she remained fixated upon the slip of the widow: hopefully making sure her family nor anyone else spotted her.

But Djedefre continued, "Time is running out. Your child is turning of age." His words were crisp as he stated: "Set will be waiting."

She looked forward, seeing the tall and floral plants and ferns surrounding them before she began slowly walking down the path. The sound of her boots hitting the metal flooring eventually mixed with his own as they entered a larger clearing filled with cacti and succulents.

Her eyes wandered, though never returning to the man's gaze when she began to speak.

Once she knew his patience was starting to decline, she inhaled and stopped midway in the circular space. When she turned to the side, she noticed he stood across her, a quarter way from the entrance as she then asked, "Tell me, Djedefre. Why did you wish for me to remain unbranded?" Salma calmly commented, "Your hypocrisy remains to question whether you truly believe in this cause. "

It was always a question she had always wondered. Though never explicitly asking, Salma merely trusted Djedefre and the Order enough that was still a part of this cause. But now with him bombarding her - allowing with many others - of wanting her eldest child to be marked, she was concerned as to why it was so vital when she was not needed.

Or the fact that Djedefre brushed her off.

Her anger was hidden, and that much was evident despite how her voice remained controlled and her eyes never seemed to waver just as her temper would.

But the immortal man's answer was beginning to agitate her once more. "You are a guardian of Heka. Set cannot mark you his protection because of the Ennead," He responded.

She could not help then but quirk her lips, amused a little by the excuse. "And here I am, choosing your side." Her eyes glanced away for a moment, unsure if it was right to say anything else. But then her thoughts and anticipation went ahead as she asked without gazing back, "Unless...you are sentimental."

For a moment she reconsidered what she just said. She couldn't believe that someone like him would show any love or infatuation with anyone. Not even his own father or brother had he shown any love for them. Respect for his father, perhaps. But that was the extent of it. Even for an immortal, he gained no passion or desire to have lovers or a family.

However, the moment he didn't respond back was when the doubt made her pause.

Her eyes never left the large array of succulents as she came to realise it.

He did not deny that he loved someone.

A breathless noise left her mouth as she spun her face towards him, only to see a short glimpse of truth in his eyes. Djedefre almost looked pained, but he masked it with a neutral expression that was twitching ever so slightly into reminiscence.

He then began, "Adara." The tone of his words almost caused her to be surprised. "You reminded me of someone. A friend."

At first, she merely dismissed his statement.

Until she heard it.

The fondness and grief were now evident as Salma tried to hide her own shock before gulping back down and trying to interrogate him further. "A friend seems too conspicuous." She shook her head at it, insinuating when she noticed the way he said it. "More than friends I take."

Djedefre inhaled sharply, for once darted his gaze away from her as he answered, "They didn't think of me more than just a friend." She noticed his hands fiddling slightly, tightening before he added, "We were barely together after my father took me in under his tutoring."

Her deductions only concluded that it must have been someone before he became immortal. Thousands of years ago...which meant thousands of years of him still remembering the love he had for one person he had known. It was something she would never seem to understand, just as how she still felt irritated that he would seem so cold and yet concerned for her. Why did he? He wasn't obligated to care for her, and neither was he forced to shut his own love.

Perhaps it was the cause of his own father. The Lion. Salma could not fault that the man who was the head of the order was perhaps the least human of them all. He cared nought for the consideration of their being unless it was vital for their Order. And if he did, one should be lucky to gain the care for one such as the Lion.

But Djedefre always wanted to be like his father. And knowing him, Salma could only be amused at how hard he tried. Yes, she should feel sympathy - and she did.

However, with their relationship so strained nowadays: all she could do was twitch her lips into a smile which never reached her eyes.

She stared back at him, her chuckle short as she tightly said, "The Great Djedefre, so intelligent and wise and yet weakened by his love."

Djedefre stared back.

"So are you." 

Salma argued sweetly, "My love is familial and present. They are my children; I bore them and nurtured them. That is the duty of a mother. Whilst yours is driven by memory. A desire that remains distant and will always be distant." As she took a step forward, she leaned upwards and lowly spoke, "Because that is what it will always be. An unrequited romance you refused ever to show because you were afraid it will break your duty." 

The cogs in his brain were running faster, or perhaps none at all as she could only sense the deep breaths he took from his nose. Djedefre appeared to be lost at either his anger at her words or the pain which dwelt in its truth. There was no running or threats which could resolve or argue against it.

Because she was right. Salma knew since she first met him that he was a man who would falter over the simplicities of love.

Somewhere in his gaze, she wondered if he was regretting again what he did. Saving her from the clutches of death and torture. Raising her to believe that the gods who blessed her with immortality were never going to give her peace and instead choose the side who may give her exactly what she deserved.

He shouldn't regret it. Not when they both knew who exactly brought them to become this way.

There were several claps as Djedefre's cold stare changed into an alarmed expression.

A lisped and accented voice then echoed upon the greenhouse: "My, my what a show."

The immortal man froze.

"I am surprised," The voice called out before she turned to reveal who it was.

Khafre walked over to them, darting those dark eyes that could pierce any gaze. He wore a long black coat, matching his brother with the simple black slacks and blazer underneath. However, he wore more gold than his older brother, despite appearing older which anyone else who did not know them would confuse them.

None could deny that this was the accurate depiction the Smithsonian showed. But instead of the Ancient Egyptian clothing, his head was bald, lacking the crown and wig that was attached.

However, she could not hide her silent shock and fear as she saw his face. He was every bit of the man she had seen in both Djedefre and their father. The stories which others told of how manic and psychotic this person was was at most accurate.

And why she had to force her heart to stop pacing fast as he then scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Now let's not be quiet because I'm...obviously back from the dead," His grin made her hands tighten at her sides, her teeth grinding as she stepped away and watched the two interact.

She could see that Dejedefre was not pleased with his presence, even more so how he almost hid back to his usual self as he pursed his lips and retorted simply.

"You've been back for a month."

"And perfect timing, as well." Khafre boastfully spoke, imagining him to roll upon the balls of his feet. "I do feel rather alive, better than my wax body. And you must be Adara. I must say I have heard great things. The Scarab that revived the Order."

Correcting him, she merely gave the former pharaoh a solemn expression. "Salma," The corner of her lips twitched as her eyes glanced quickly at his body. She then spoke, "And the last time I saw you, your body was hidden in Giza."

There was a flare in his expression, sensing the amusement that was growing upon him as he drawled out, "Let us just say we used some extra measures in perfecting the Tablet." 

She refrained to raise a brow, keeping her eyes focused on him. There was no doubt that he almost seemed human once more, though the more she sensed it: there was a slight hitch in his demeanour. 

He was not fully alive, that was for certain. It was as if he was only surviving upon the makings of magic that not even she could comprehend. Even so, she would not question any more of the details - knowing that it would be upon Dejedefre and their father's work. 

Speaking of the Lion, Djedefre quickly stated, "He was not supposed to stay, but our father insisted."

"He means Set," Khafre dismissed his brother's irritation. "I am intrigued, however. Why do you lack the conviction in bringing your daughter to initiation? Almost reminds me of a certain Guardian."

Salma smiled widely, her jaw tight.

"I am not a toy, son of Khufu. I know who you are and what you are capable of," Despite how quiet she spoke, she could hear it ringing against her ears. Salma spoke in a dangerously sweet tone, "Do not try to interfere with our work because of your little pleasures."

Taking a step closer to her, she realised how taller she was than his brother as she had to lean upwards to glare up at his gaze.

He was enjoying this. Thinking of this all just a game as Khafre studied her.

After a few seconds, he lowly questioned: "And what do you mean by that-"

"Brother, enough." 

Djedefre's tone had snapped her and Khafre back at him. When they both glanced at him, she noticed the impatience and even anger as he then relayed to them why they were there.

"I asked you to be here because the plan is set. I didn't let you come here to have you argue. Father is in need of you in Washington," He told them both with a strict tone.

Biting her lip, her bemusement continued as she stepped away just as Khafre did so.

With a sarcastic tone, Khafre bowed and noted, "Of course." Though not without looking back at her as he asked, "And what of you, Scarab."

Salma kept it simple as she adjusted her stance, her urge to look out for her family in case they would come near them was so much that it took all her effort to allow her own focus on him first.

"I will be continuing work in London," She answered, her eyes then turning to Djedefre who was, in turn, eyeing her. "I assume you will be heading to Cairo again."

"I am." He confirmed but narrowed his gaze as he warned them both,  "I trust you to behave. Both of you."

She hid the insult hurtled back at her whilst Khafre openly laughed. "I won't be stabbing you behind your back, again big brother." 

Those words hung stale as both she and Djedefre warily stared back at Khafre. But as she glanced over to the older brother, she saw the fear which crossed him once more - hidden by a mask of his own practice as he glowered before he snapped back.

"We won't." His words were heavy as he spoke, "Because we must be able to work together. For duty over blood."

When she nodded, Khafre only smirked. And for a moment, there was some regret in her after saying what she said to the older brother. Perhaps they were wrong. It would seem that not only Dejedefre, but everyone, should be aware of Khafre. 

And now they have given the responsibility to a madman.

____

A/N: And so we are back again. :D

I decided to add another part (cus there ain't enough of that already lmao) considering what the themes of each part are about. Since the last chapter ended with Larry, Rowena and Ahk, I thought it would be good to add some context to our villains which aren't really shown as villains in this chapter. Yes, what they're doing and what they've done is horrible, mentioned by the mass killings and assassinations each person has done that have altered history.

But I wanted to portray this father-daughter relationship in which they aren't really on a tangent with their ideas and choices. Neither of them wants to admit that they care for each other and for others, forcing each other to remind themselves that their duty rests on the return of the exiled God. Salma struggles to understand Djedefre's love for her whilst he can easily see how Salma is suppressing everything.

Salma is too ambitious and controlling whilst Djedefre is driven by what the book says and what is token by the orders given - unsure how to cope with his emotional side. And this could potentially affect their actions in the chapters to come.

Also, our fave Wax dickwad is back. 

But how? Since when? You will see ;)

I wanted to also address why we have an interlude. Solely it's because the final part didn't fit together. There needed to be some break between the journey and then the finale so hence why it's now going to be a 5 part series.

I know it's been months or more since I've done this. I had a break from Night at the Museum since the MCU kicked off and I was very much focused on other fandoms. But now I'm going to try and balance things out, but that means actually documenting my notes which I was very bad at.

So after catching up and writing a full document on information, lore and others: I'm very much prepared to continue this. Nothing from my initial plans has changed. I know how this story will go and end despite my heart wanting so much just to be nice and keep them alive.

But nope: no one is safe. :)

Next Chapter: The Guardians and the Exhibits head to Egypt.

____

Written: 11/10/2022

Edited: 11/10/2022