#Rick O'Connell is a very lucky man

[idle-brit]

10 Fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags

Thank you @baepsrae for tagging me!! ♡( ◡‿◡ )

This is everyone's preemptive warning to skip past if you don't want to read a long and rambling post, I'm about to go wild lol. I'll also include the 5 people (not 10 oops) I'm tagging here at the top so they don't have to scroll; I'm interested to hear your answers but obviously there's no pressure to do it (･ω･)b

@koscheiy, @breitzbachbea, @runmild, @toffeeanddragons, and @yatzuaka!

1. Loki (Marvel)

My poor little meow meow. My silly rabbit. My sweet darling babygirl. Picking 9 other characters was honestly hard because there's few I truly consider a favourite like Loki. Between his 2011-2013 appearances in the MCU, the comics, and the pre-Thor high-fantasy-novel-esque fics on AO3, the ideal version of this character lives in my head rent free, and has done since 2012. I picked this gif from The Avengers because it was the moment that made me want to see the film again just for his scenes, and it remains the only film I've seen in cinemas twice. He's quite literally the reason I got Tumblr, for The Avengers fanart, and my very first post was some (bad) fanart of my own haha. While the rest of this list is in no particular order, Loki is absolutely my number one, for all time, always. I could talk about him forever.

2. Evy Carnahan (The Mummy)

I had to choose the scene I got my blog title from. While Loki might be my favourite character, The Mummy is my favourite film. I think I saw it at the exact right time of life when I was a kid in my Ancient Egypt phase, but also far younger than the recommended viewing age the film suggests lol. Ever since then I've rewatched this and the sequel (yes, sequel, singular. I said what I said) more times than I can count and further developed my interest in actual Egyptology. Evy is intelligent and an academic, kindhearted, a little bit clumsy, but uses her knowledge and quick thinking to be an absolute badass and save the day multiple times. I've always wanted to be at least half as cool as her and also marry Rick O'Connell.

3. L (Death Note)

Everyone here is lucky that I got Tumblr after the height of my weeb phase that started in 2008. Death Note was the first manga I ever read and I expected to enjoy it and move on, but as soon as I got to the Lind. L. Taylor event in volume 2 my young mind was blown and I was obsessed. One scene of L outsmarting Light kept me reading manga, got me into anime, introduced me to fanart, was the first fanart I ever drew, introduced me to fanfiction, and years later I would take Japanese classes at uni. L is an amazing example of a morally grey character, wanting justice to prevail but perhaps not for the right reasons, and no matter what it takes to get there.

4. Leon S. Kennedy (Resident Evil 4 Remake)

Okay I'll admit Leon is the first babygirl on the list who is mainly here for aesthetic reasons. I had a passing knowledge of the Resident Evil franchise but never took an interest because military-gun-shooting-series are boring as hell... Until RE4R came out last year and I saw this scene in a playthrough. Where do I sign up for him to do this to my neck. Then I learned Leon's backstory and actually appreciated his character too. He hates and distrusts the US government, he was blackmailed into service for them at 21, he's haunted by being used as their weapon, and he's the most cringe fail man who thinks he's suave when he says "Nighty night, knights" as he's killing sentient suits of armour. I need him.

5. Astarion Ancunín (Baldur's Gate 3)

Ah, a non-human in a high fantasy world, using knife skills and sharp wit to protect himself from a deeply traumatic past, but still good at heart and willing to open up to those who appreciate him for who he is, rather than living up to someone else's standards. Now where have I seen a similar character type before... When the game came out it shouldn't have been a surprise who my favourite would be lol. The whole cast does an amazing job, but the real draw of Astarion is the phenomenal work put in by Neil Newborn to really bring this character to life, and I don't think Astarion would be the same without him.

6. Kagome Higurashi (Inuyasha)

Inuyasha is one of my all time favourite anime/manga. It's got time travel, a historic setting, magic, action and adventure, and romance between a human girl and a supernatural being who's down bad. Basically all of the tropes I adore and still look for in new favourite series haha. And Kagome has been That Bitch from the start; arriving in a village that fears a half dog-demon, freeing him from his imprisonment to help her, and then ordering him to sit when he pisses her off, knowing he's wearing a magic necklace that forces him to obey. No one is doing it like her.

7. Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen)

Yes this is a basic bitch pick, I'm well aware. But no matter if it's the book by Jane Austen, the 1995 BBC production, or the 2005 film by Joe Wright, I love this story so much! There's just something so romantic about it that no modern romance book can capture, and that's not without my trying to find one (just follow my trail of 1 star ratings on Goodreads). Elizabeth and Mr Darcy just read as complete and real characters, and I love how much Elizabeth cares for her family, refusing Darcy's first proposal in part because he insulted them and tried to separate Jane from Mr Bingley.

8. Lin Sukai (The Drowning Empire Trilogy by Andrea Stewart)

Now we're getting into the realm of books without adaptations so I cant use gifs anymore, and I honestly couldn't find any fanart of Lin either. Which is a crime! My girl is out here being extremely intelligent and driven (and badass in some of the later scenes), using her familial magic as daughter of the Emperor to try and dismantle his tyranny despite craving his approval, and trying her best to gain allies even though she was raised within the walls of the palace and is slightly out of touch, and she doesn't have a fandom here on Tumblr? And that's only in book one of the trilogy!

9. FitzChivalry Farseer (The Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb)

I haven't even finished The Realm of the Elderlings yet (16 thick ass books, nay, tomes) but I already know this is my favourite fantasy series of all time, and Robin Hobb is beyond doubt a master of her craft. One of her main talents is writing the ultimate poor little meow meow because good lord, Fitz just cannot catch a break no matter what he does or who he's trying to benefit. The pacing of these books can be quite slow but I promise it's always worth the emotionally devastating pay off. (It's also a tough call between Fitz and The Fool on who my favourite Hobb character is!)

10. Sancia Grado (The Founders Trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett)

The final one is also my most recent addition to this list, seeing as I'm only just starting book two after finishing Foundryside late last year. While that shows how much I loved Sancia after just one book of her, I also hope the rest of the trilogy delivers! So often books will state characters are masters of their craft and just expect readers to take their word for it, but Sancia gets to show off her skills multiple times on page, so you get the impression she really exists and belongs in this world rather than just being a set piece for it. Not only that, she defies the usual lone-wolf-asshole stereotype that's so common in these gritty fantasy books, and it's heartwarming to see the found family she's gathered by the end of the story compared to where she began.

So uh, thank you all for coming to my TED talk about all my blorbos, see you later!

(￣▽￣)ノ

#long post #Loki #The Mummy #Death Note #Leon Kennedy #Astarion #Inuyasha

[prismatica-the-strange]

Séamus McGannon

Picrew

Of both Irish and Scottish descent, Séamus is a born adventurer whose life's work is to find the legendary city of gold, El Dorado. She's spent decades discovering ancient cities, hidden temples, and exploring the jungles of Mexico and South America. Her main focus is in the Aztecs, but she has also found her share of secrets, and curses, hidden deep in the Amazonian jungle.

Was friends with Rick and Izzy in her youth, and the three would get into some wild adventures. She and Rick once fould an ancient map to El Dorado, written all in code. A code it would take her nearly 2 decades, 4 trips around the globe, a handful of dead colleagues to decode.

Her cat Xolotl, is possibly immortal because he's obscenely old for a cat, over 25 years old and still as spry as a kitten. He's been with her through many a discovery so he could very well be cursed.

During her years of adventure, Shéa has seen a curse and resurrection or two. She once had to slay Mictlantecuhtli, the Aztec god of the underworld after one of her research assistants opened an ancient tomb that had been used to seal him away when he decided that humanity no longer deserved life. She's told Rick this story many times but he never believed her.

Then, a few years after Rick and Evie's kerfuffle at hamunaptra (an adventure she had yet to learn about) she recieved a letter from Rick, who five years prior had stolen her money along with a well aged bottle of whiskey, asking her to come to his home in London to celebrate the new year. So she packed a bag and her lucky machete and boarded a steamer to England.

On her trip there, the ship ran into some trouble on the high seas. A monstrous sea serpent, straight off a pirate map attacked the ship. A beast she helped slay while getting bit in the process, leaving one of its teeth embedded in her leg. A week later, mostly healed, with trophy in hand, she makes her way from the docks to the O'Connell house, where she meets for the first time, Johnathan, Evie, baby Alex, and their friend, Ardeth Bay, who had somehow allowed himself to get talked I to spending the holidays with them. She regaled the group with tales of her many adventures and it wasn't long before he was smitten.

After that, it seemed to get easier and easier for the O'Connells to talk the man into coming over, as long as he was aware she would be there.

So that's how they spent the holiday season for the next three years, all of them gathered in the spacious living room of Rick and Evie's beautiful house. Possible shenanigans may occur to hopefully get the two together, including but not limited to mistletoe, drinking games, and 'accidentally' knocking them into each other's space.

Then came the whole bracelet business and Ardeth saw her fight for the first time, when decapitate the undead corpse about to dismember him on the bus, strands of bright ginger already falling from her hair tie and into her eyes, he knew he was in love. And the way she cupped his cheeks before she began to examine his wounds, had he not been so out of breath and in pain, he would have kissed her right then. God knows he desperately wanted to.

During the first night of their pursuit of Alex in Izzy's dirigible, he could hardly keep his eyes off her. With her hair down, whipping around her face, and her large cotton sleeves billowing in the wind as she looked out over the desert, he could hardly hear what Jonathan was blabbering about.

There was no real privacy on their journey, but during one of the quiet moments he pulled her to the side, determined to at least kiss her in case they happened to fail their mission or something happened to either of them, but their moment was interrupted by Evie nearly going over the side.

When the balloon went down in the tsunami sent by Imhotep, his first instinct was to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, trying to protect her from any pain she might suffer from the fall. Then she went with him and Rick to retrieve Alex and tbe two fough off cultists and pygmies until the rest of them made it to the pyramid.

She then helped ardeth and his warriors hold back the Anubis warriors. When the second wave of them turned back in to sand, one of the first things he did was turn around and kiss her, hard. A sweaty, sandy, passionate kiss.

She spent the next two months with him in Egypt before going back to Mexico. Her original intent when going to London was to ask Rick for assistance in cracking a part of the infamous code that would lead El Dorado. During their search for his son he helped her out, and only a few months later she was getting antsy, ready for the next step in her lifelong journey.

Leaving was hard for her, but their regular correspondence eased the pain a fair amount, until she stops responding all together. After eight months of worrying, fearing the worst, and nearly boarding a boat to Mexico himself to find her, Ardeth is shocked by the sudden appearance of Séamus in the local market one day.

Self ship tag: Curse Bound

Shéa's playlist is a careful accumulation of soundtracks and celtic punk, and is totally worth a listen!

What happens next is a story for another day in my (hopefully) upcoming Mummy spinoff series/Mummy 3 rewrite- Mummy: Curse of the Jungle

And if all goes well with that I have another story planned for them- The Mummy: Sea of Mystery (or something like that)

#Curse Bound #séamus mcgannon #ardeth bay #prisma self ships #self insert #self insert introduction #self ship #self shipping #self ship community #the mummy #the mummy Returns #character playlist #The Mummy: Curse of the Jungle #Spotify

[belphegor1982]

Well, officially presenting the first chapter (on AO3 and here) of my Mummy story I’m in the process of resurrecting :o)

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: The O'Connells are required by the English Government to bring the Diamond taken from Ahm Shere from Cairo to London. Things get interesting when Jonathan bumps by chance into an old friend of his from Oxford, Tom Ferguson...

Chapter 1: Old Friends (on AO3 here)

Cairo, Egypt, 1937

A tourist’s first impression of this part of Cairo was mostly a blinding white light. The little houses, the blazing sky, the glittering sun, even the dust flying around helped complete the effect.

Of course, as soon as your eyes – and mind – adjusted, you could see and feel the dust settled on absolutely everything, including your ears and nose, the layers of grime, the heaps of donkey and mule droppings in the streets… and if you were very careful, you could catch the hand of the passing pickpocket sneaking for your wallet, as it was in any metropolis big and noisy enough for passers-by to be distracted.

Not that this particular thought worried one particular Englishman currently sauntering across the streets of Cairo. As a fairly skilled pickpocket himself, Jonathan Carnahan didn’t need to eye every corner warily – all he needed to do was to watch his own self and make sure that no belongings of his landed in anyone’s pocket. Or vice versa.

Jonathan turned round a corner, whistling a jaunty jazz tune. Despite his cheerful demeanour, he was feeling slightly miffed, having gone out in the hopes of finding something for Evy’s birthday and coming home empty-handed. Lucky thing that he still had a couple of weeks to go. After years of searching frantically for a gift at the very last moment, he was determined to get his hands on something she might like – and preferably something that didn’t involve puzzle boxes, big black books, and three-thousand-years-old mummies rising from the dead. That was over. He, for one, had had his share of insane stuff like that.

Thinking of their last trip to Egypt all together wiped the smile off his face. It had been two years, but how could he ever forget that horrible, ice-cold feeling that had left him completely numb, as he sat down next to the dead body of his sister, trying to comfort his nephew and failing so thoroughly? He had never felt so miserable in all his life. Since his life included a stint in the trenches and being chased by the undead more times than necessary, this was saying something.

There it goes again. Jonathan shook his head, and quickened his pace. He’d got fairly good at actively ignoring this kind of memories, but it was getting harder when they kept popping back up without a warning. Unlike his brother-in-law, for whom this part of the world meant little else than bloody unnecessary conflict, the inside of a gaol, and the aforementioned undead, Jonathan didn’t really mind returning to Egypt. He’d had quite a few fond memories of the place before the whole nasty mummy business. It was the reason behind the trip that bothered him a little.

Two years ago, the second before the oasis of Ahm Shere sank into the ground, Jonathan had taken as a souvenir – and compensation for his troubles – the enormous diamond resting atop the pyramid. He’d felt very proud of himself for that, and it had come to him as a nasty bit of shock when Evy had told him there was absolutely no way he would take it to London. Yet, after much arguing on his part, and even more talking and coaxing on his sister’s, he had finally admitted, despondently, that she might be right after all.

The Cairo Egyptian Museum of Antiquities had offered him a tidy sum, but it had not really consoled him – not when he had been strong-armed to give a substantial part to Izzy as compensation for his troubles. Since the man never knew the real value of the gem, however, said compensation amounted to a quarter rather than the half he had been demanding, a fact which Jonathan adamantly refused to feel guilty over.

Even Evy reminding him that the diamond couldn’t be safer than in this hidden room, under the constant, hawk-like watch of the Medjai curator, had not been quite enough. The diamond was beautiful – gleaming white, inlaid with elaborated gold and pearls – and big – the weight of it had nearly pulled Jonathan down from the dirigible. Parting with it had not been easy.

And now, just a few months ago, the British government had contacted Evy and Rick through the curator of the British Museum where Evy oversaw the seven Egyptian galleries; they had decided that the diamond was no longer safe in Egypt, with the Italian army invading Ethiopia not so long ago and the ominous tidings from Germany, Italy and Spain – the O’Connells had been kindly asked to return to Egypt, and accompany the diamond on its way to England. Which had meant, in a more prosaic way of putting it, that they were mandatory volunteers. The look on Rick’s face when he had explained it to his brother-in-law had been a murderous one – partly because he hated the idea of being ordered about, mainly because Evy was more than enthusiastic about it.

Alex had told his uncle afterwards of the row they’d had one night, thinking he was sound asleep. Poor kid had never heard his parents truly fight in the space of ten years, and that had obviously disturbed him. To tell the truth, it had disturbed Jonathan himself, who saw Evy and Rick as the perfect couple in so many ways it was disgusting. Egypt – especially its supernatural side – had lost its charms for Rick ever since Ahm Shere. There was no way in hell he’d let his wife go there alone.

“And he said that Mum was ‘a magnet for trouble’, that each time they went to that ‘damn place someone died’, and after that Mum shouted something rude –”

“Rude? Evy? Are we really speaking of my baby sister there?” Uncle and nephew had been sitting on the carpet on the floor of the latter’s bedroom, back against the bed. Jonathan quite liked it when he went over to ‘baby-sit’ Alex – Evy had finally come to trust him when she and Rick had to go out for whatever reason, and they usually had a good time together. That evening, though, Alex had sat silently, looking crestfallen. When Jonathan had eventually managed to get him to talk, it was rather late in the night, and Alex ought to have been put to bed long ago. But neither of them were very eager about it just then.

His uncle’s attempt at humour got a reluctant smile from Alex; he repeated what Evy had said to Jonathan, who let out a low whistle. “Indeed. Even your dad would call it rude, I guess.”

Alex gave another slight smile, and snuggled beside his uncle. A tad uncomfortable at first with this rather unusual display of emotion, Jonathan put an arm around his nephew’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Hey. Want a piece of advice from your old uncle?” Alex nodded, not saying anything. “Don’t worry too much. I’ve seen your parents together for twelve years, and if there’s only one thing I’m sure of in this world – they are so in love it’s sickening. It’s always been this way, and I’m sure it’ll always be this way.” Alex raised his eyes. Jonathan looked down at him, winking. “Get used to it, partner. We’re doomed.”

A moment’s silence passed, more comfortable and relaxed than it had been a few minutes earlier. Then Alex raised his blond head to ask, “D’you think we’ll go back to Egypt, then?”

“I don’t know.” Jonathan shifted slightly on the floor. “I wouldn’t say no to a trip there – the country’s a fine one. And after all, we’re talking about my diamond here, dammit.” Alex snorted, and Jonathan chose to ignore it. “Seriously, I like the place. I spent most of my time as a kid there.”

“Well, I’d love to go.” The passion in his nephew’s voice echoed his mum’s whenever she spoke of Egypt, and it wasn’t lost on Jonathan.

“You sure? I would’ve thought that you would hate it, actually. You didn’t have what I’d call a good time last time you went there.”

“You only say that because you were scared to death most of the time.”

“It’s not true.”

“Like hell it isn’t!”

Jonathan managed to give Alex what he thought was a stern look. The boy just grinned.

“And you kiss your mother with that mouth.”

“Bet Dad hasn’t taught me half of what he knows.”

This time, they both chuckled. Then Alex scrambled out of his uncle’s arms and looked at him in the eye. “Why won’t he go back to Egypt?”

“Well, it’s – it’s complicated.” No it’s not. “I guess he doesn’t want to – lose you or your mum again.” Jonathan swallowed. “And to tell you the truth… I have to agree with him on that one.”

“But it’s only for the diamond!” Alex exclaimed. “No Book of the Dead, no mummies, no ancient curses. Only a stupid diamond to take to England.”

Jonathan grinned. “The problem is, each time your mum began her sentence by ‘It’s only’ something, the world went upside down and your mum and dad had to save it. Mostly because they doomed it in the first place. If my memory serves me right, it was first the Book of the Dead, then the chest with that bloody Bracelet of Anubis.” Jonathan shook his head. “Seems you take more after Evy than I thought.” He winked at Alex to make him know he was only being half serious; but Alex went on.

“Okay, I understand that he doesn’t want to lose me or –”

“Let me clear that up, Alex,” Jonathan interrupted, his voice low and serious for once. “It’s not that he ‘doesn’t want’ to. You know him, there’s not many things on earth he’s afraid of, but he’s scared out of his wits at the mere thought of losing one of you two. And that’s saying something, because your dad’s one of the bravest blokes I’ve ever known.”

Alex was silent for a moment, pondering his uncle’s words. Then his jaw clenched, and he looked away. “Uncle Jon?”

“Yes?”

“At Ahm Shere, I was – I was scared to death when – when Mum…”

Jonathan felt a knot tighten in his chest; he shifted closer to his nephew and put an arm around him again. “I know. I was, too.”

After a whole week of deliberation, Rick and Evy accepted the government’s mission. And after another fourteen days of heated debates, Alex was allowed to go with his parents to Egypt, apparently thanks to the high marks he had received in school. But Jonathan suspected that this decision had a lot to do with his nephew’s ability to wear out any guardian when he didn’t want to be left out. Thankfully the boy had never tried his infamous tricks on him, a fact that made Evy wonder endlessly.

In the end, Evy and Rick officially broke the news about the trip to Jonathan; not wanting them to realise that he had known for almost a month, he feigned to be pleasantly surprised, and asked if they minded him going along for the ride. Evy said yes almost immediately, but Rick muttered something about the return of the whole O’Connell-Carnahan family to Egypt bringing down plagues and destruction upon the world.

So, after a surprisingly uneventful flight from London to Cairo, and an equally calm trip to their ‘old haunt’, as Jonathan liked to put it, they were settling down peacefully. The lack of major events so far had made Rick more relaxed, even if he still looked as if danger was about to bear down upon his family any time. But the fact remained that they were to stay in Egypt until the London and Cairo Museums agreed on several points which still needed to be discussed. Ah, the joys of bureaucracy.

Jonathan was jerked out of his train of thought when he finally felt the afternoon sun’s fantastic heat on his head and neck, and wished he had taken Evy’s advice to put on a hat. They had arrived the day before, and while Evy discussed the diamond case with the curator of the Museum of Antiquities, and Rick took Alex to see other things than desiccated corpses, Jonathan had sneaked out to take a stroll, and try to find a fitting birthday present. Evy was a tricky one when it came to gifts – she didn’t seem to like flowers, trinkets or pretty dresses like other women Jonathan knew; but she was crazy about anything that reminded her of Egypt. It had been that way ever since she was old enough to know what she wanted, which had come very early indeed.

Maybe the best thing was to ask O’Connell what he would be giving her, and either get ideas or just contribute to the purchase, as he had done before. But that bothered him. After all, as his one and only sister, she did deserve something special.

Quite lost in his thoughts this time, he barely registered that he was walking past the Museum before somebody knocked into him, hard enough for both of them to crumple, breathless, on the ground. It took Jonathan thirty seconds to get his lungs in working order again and, instinctively, check his pockets for anything missing.

“So sorry I bumped into you, man, din’ mean to,” came the voice of the attacker. Jonathan’s eyes widened at the sound of this voice and he squinted up at its owner.

“Ferguson? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?”

The fellow shook his head, still looking a bit dazed; then his own eyes, round and brown, went even rounder as he stared at Jonathan. “Carnahan! What the hell are you doin’ ‘ere?”

“Glad to see you too, old chap,” laughed Jonathan, standing up and dusting himself off before offering a hand at the man on the ground, who accepted it gladly.

He hadn’t seen Thomas Ferguson since some time after the end of the war, what felt like ages ago. They’d made quite a pair at Oxford, the two of them – the scrawny, foppish Southerner with the quiet grin and the sticky fingers, and the broad-shouldered, round-faced Scouse with the laughing eyes and the deceptively innocent face. They’d rowed for the Dark Blues for a bit, got properly pickled on Boat Race Nights, and helped each other out of many a tight spot.

As soon as Tommy was on his feet he was wringing Jonathan’s hand with all the energy he’d been famous for as a boy. “Sorry, Jon, mate, I was a bit stunned –” After all these years, he still retained some of that accent, too! “– ‘S’not everyday you bump into a pal from Oxford in the middle of Cairo! How’d you get here, for starters?”

“Well, I followed my sister,” Jonathan replied, grinning. In fifteen years or so, he had not realised that he had actually missed this accent. “She’s giving a hand to the curator of the Museum of Antiquities – she’s something of an authority now, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh yeah? That’s fantastic. I haven’t forgotten how you’d talk about her, y’know. On and on and on. I’m curious to see what she looks like.”

Jonathan stole a glance at the entrance steps of the Museum, and turned to Tommy with a smirk. “Really? Well, if you really want to, I suppose I could…”

His sister had just appeared on the stairs, accompanied by the curator, an elderly man with greying hair and whiskers. Tommy followed Jonathan’s gaze and looked at them, goggling at Evy in particular.

“Jonny – are my eyes mistaken, or is this gorgeous woman Doctor Evelyn O’Connell? I’ve read about her, she’s famous in my line of work… According to what I’ve read, she was one of the first people to make it out of the City of the Dead alive –”

Jonathan’s grin widened as he nodded. “Yes, that’d be her.”

Tommy rambled on as they walked closer to the stairs, “That’s bloody amazing! I thought she’d look, you know, like in the pictures in the paper, the bookish type with glasses – your typical Southern spinster”, he added with a wink. They waited for the curator to bid her goodbye, and Jonathan, greatly enjoying the situation, crept up on his sister to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey there, old mum – how’s your day been?”

Evy started, then her expression shifted from slightly irked to a smile at her brother’s laugh. She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Jonathan, the things that amuse you…”

“You’re just miffed I startled you. C’mon, I’d like you to meet someone – an admirer,” he added with a grin to Tommy, who stood there, his eyes wide. “Thomas Ferguson, an old school friend of mine. Tommy – Evelyn Carnahan O’Connell, my famous baby sister.”

Evy held out her hand, which Tommy grabbed and shook heartily. “So you’re the old scoundrel’s sister? No wonder he spoke about you – though you don’t quite fit the description now…”

“What exactly did you tell your ‘school friends’ about me?” asked Evy, warning in her voice, though the twinkle in her eye did not quite disappear. Nevertheless, Jonathan preferred to ignore her question, earning a hard nudge in the ribs.

“So, what did you say your ‘line of work’ was?” he asked Tommy.

“Well – don’ laugh. I work at the British Consulate in Cairo, specialising in antique stuff. Oh, I’m sorry, Dr O’Connell,” he stammered with a glance at Evy who had an eyebrow raised, “I mean I’m one of the chief agents in the British Antique Research Department.”

“I’ve heard of you!” exclaimed Evy. “At least of that Research Department. They’re gradually cutting off public funds – encouraging individual financing – that won’t do any good for scientific research. Such a stupid decision is only going to –”

“So you lot are the ones she kept fuming about for half a year!” Jonathan snorted. The infamous Ferguson rotten luck struck again.

Tommy looked dejected. Evy must have seen this, because she bit her lip and said, in softer tones, “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. But as my brother said, I’ve been – rather upset over this. There’s been some pressure on the British Museum lately by private patrons who threatened to pull out their funding on some… sensitive collections. Without the Crown to back us up, we might have to cave in to their ridiculous demands.”

“I’ll – I’ll tell my superiors about it,” said Tommy, still looking unsure. “See what I can do. Surely that won’t be much, but… Well. I’ll have tried.”

“That’s nice,” Evy said cheerfully, taking Jonathan’s arm and starting to walk. “Look, the two of you – I’ve had something of a rough day, so I’ll go home, if you don’t mind. You can –”

“Brilliant idea!” said Jonathan, flashing a grin at his sister. “I thought of going to the Sultan’s Kasbah, but you might find it a tad – let’s say – dingy, my good friend.”

“Worse than the Turf?” Seeing Evy’s puzzled look, Tommy explained, “Sorry, private joke. I mean the Turf Tavern, that’s where I saw him for the first time. Me family didn’t ‘ave much money, you know, so I used to work there to pay for my studies. Very nice pub, didn’t deserve the reputation.”

“I’m sure you did indeed see a lot of my brother there,” Evy slipped in slyly. Jonathan threw a mock glare at her.

“To think you are almost my only family. What a shame.” Then, as Tommy looked uncertain, “Carry on, Tom.”

“All right. So I was one of the only students who needed a job, and there were some others who thought that it was – how’d they put it? – a ‘disgrace’ to our university.”

“Preposterous,” said Evy sternly. “As if money could take you further than talent.”

Jonathan bit back on the cynical comment that crossed his mind. Sometimes Evy’s naïveté baffled him.

“Right,” said Tommy uncertainly, glancing at Jonathan. “So, one day, a little bunch of lads come in, and Jon here was sometimes hanging with ‘em at the time –”

Evy glared at Jonathan in advance, and he threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me like that! I haven’t done anything!” Evy’s gaze softened, and Jonathan finished, “…Yet.”

That earned him a playful slap on the arm, and a laugh from Tommy, who went on, “Anyway, one of the blokes orders somethin’ or other, and starts to poke fun at me. Well, I was used to it, so I let them be. Then they continued, and I finally noticed that skinny lad in the corner who was makin’ fun at them for making fun at me. Didn’ quite understand what the hell was going on – oh, sorry, Dr O’Connell – what was happening.”

Evy smiled. “You’ll have to watch your mouth in front of my son, but otherwise it’s fine. And please, call me Evelyn.”

Tommy beamed. “Right, uh, Evelyn. So, uh –”

“What he didn’t know at that point,” interrupted Jonathan, “was that I had my eye on that fellow – what’s his name – Farbow. He owed me quite a bit of money, but wouldn’t repay me. So I was looking for a way to get him back for it.”

“And get the rest of his wallet in the process, of course.”

“Evy, he owed me seventeen pounds. And he was not what I’d call a ‘decent bloke’ – nasty, disdainful piece of work he was, and his little friends with him. Always a dirty word about the Scouse who worked at the Turf Tavern, just because he didn’t belong to his snobby little world. I did the community a favour, really.”

“Don’t push it, Jonathan,” warned Evy.

Tommy carried on. “Well, I was glad there was at least one person who didn’t think like Edwin Farbow – nice change. Then Farbow said something – I don’t remember what it was about, I jus’ remember it made me really angry, really. An’ it’s not a pretty sight when I’m really angry at someone.”

Jonathan remembered, but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.

“An’ – an’ I just lost it, y’know? I dropped his tea over his ‘ead –”

“I say, that one was pretty funny,” Jonathan said, smiling widely at the memory. The strangled yelp that had followed had definitely been one of the best parts.

“So they all leaped for me, obviously – began to punch me, the six or seven of them – hey, I still managed to get back at them!” Tommy added quickly, as if defending his honour. Evy hid a smile, and it occurred to Jonathan that that last sentence had something very Rick-like about it. “But I’m not a fool. I know a losing fight when I’m in one.”

“Don’t tell me. Jonathan bravely threw himself into the fight to take on as many attackers as possible.” There was mischievous laughter in Evy’s voice, and her eyes were twinkling. If any other than her had quipped that way about him, Jonathan would probably have taken offence, or at least pretended to. But they knew each other enough not to cross the line.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Well, that wasn’t quite Jon’s style – I don’ know, might’ve changed since then. But yeah, he did. One moment I was squashed under six or seven guys, the nex’ I found out we were two on the floor.”

Evy began to laugh. “Why, Jonathan? My Jonathan, in a fight, for someone he barely knew?”

At that Jonathan cleared his throat, a mite embarrassed. “I told you, I was looking for Farbow’s wallet. That was the perfect diversion – you should’ve seen that twit looking in every corner for his lost wallet afterwards. It was three months before he gave up.” And it’s lucky you didn’t see me then. I was a bloody mess. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.” Evy smiled. “You never told me that.”

“Should I have?”

“I don’t know, it’s – it was nice of you to do that, even for the wrong reasons. I’m proud of you.”

Jonathan felt an unexpected lump rise in his throat. Not a very big one, but enough to keep him from talking for a few seconds. It was always like this whenever she said something really nice to him. It caught him off guard each and every time.

“We’re home,” announced Evy after a little while, stopping in front of a door.

“Nice house,” commented Tommy, taking in the sand-coloured neat front and the curtains at the windows.

“Our ‘old haunt’ since the family moved to Egypt,” Jonathan said, opening the door and stepping aside to let his sister in. “Evy wasn’t even walking then.”

“I do believe I was,” Evy protested.

Jonathan snorted. “Oh, you weren’t. You crawled.”

Evy seemed to resist the urge to slap her brother and walked into the living room, her nose in the air. She was greeted by two simultaneous voices:

“Mum!”

“Hey, hon.”

Jonathan waited a few seconds, then walked into the room in turn, and grinned at the sight of his nephew looking genuinely eager to see him. He was not fooled, however – as soon as Evy wasn’t looking, Alex mouthed the words “Got one?” and frowned as his uncle shook his head. No, he still had no present for Mum’s birthday.

Then Alex peered behind Jonathan and saw Tommy standing there, looking uncomfortable at the family reunion.

“Uncle Jon? Who’s that?”

“Who, him?” Jonathan pointed at his friend, and Alex rolled his eyes. “Tom Ferguson, was in class with me at Oxford. I ran into him by chance today.”

Tommy stepped past Jonathan and held out his hand to Alex, nearest to him. “Hi – glad to see ya. Jon’s nephew, eh?”

“Yeah,” said Alex, eyeing him with all the suspicion of a ten-year-old who’d seen what he had seen. Behind him, Rick’s eyes spoke loads about his own distrust. But mistrust towards Jonathan and everything related was par for the course on his part, and, admittedly, reasonable.

“Thomas Ferguson, British Antique Research Department,” said Tommy, holding out a hand towards Rick, who shook it slowly, still reluctant.

“Rick O’Connell.”

“So you’re Dr O’Connell’s husband? Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m impressed, you’ve no idea.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “Impressed?”

“It seems I’m rather famous in the Research Department,” said Evy, laughing.

“Make that infamous,” quipped Jonathan.

“The Department owes your wife a huge amount of information about some obscure periods of Egyptian hist’ry, as well as the major part of serious knowledge we’ve got on Hamunaptra,” Tommy pointed out, and Evy blushed. “She’s a legend – one of the original three who managed to go to Hamunaptra and live to tell the tale – but – I assume you’re another one?”

“Yeah,” said Rick, looking a bit nonplussed. Jonathan definitely didn’t regret bringing Tommy in. Seeing Rick O’Connell confused was a very rare occurrence, too rare to be missed.

“I never knew – who was the third one?”

Jonathan was now struggling to keep a straight face. Rick blinked, and pointed at his brother-in-law. “That was him.”

“You!?” God, the look on his face was priceless. “You were at Hamunaptra?”

“Yes,” risked Jonathan, laughter rising in his voice. “And believe me, it wasn’t quite the picnic. Oh, by the way, there were four of us, not three.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Rick roll his eyes and grinned, undaunted. This was proving to be a fun evening.

__________

1937 was a conscious choice on my part, and so was the choice to make it two years after Ahm Shere. I know that in the film we clearly see the caption THEBES – 1933, but 1935 is the date at the back of the DVD and at the back of the novelisation. Besides, in the film, Red (the bald-ish one of the three thugs) states that the events of TM happened "nine years ago", and Alex is eight. I'm not good at maths, but I chose to trust it nonetheless. There are other explanations to the date goofs, both Doylist and Watsonian, and this is mine.

Hope you liked/will like the rest!

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #my stuff #fanfiction #the mummy #the mummy returns #the mummy films

[nerielle]

let the choir bells sing

let the choir bells sing (feat. rick/evie from the mummy)

Rating: T for canon-typical cursing

Warnings: Dumb fluff, if that counts.

Relationships: Rick O'Connell/Evelyn O'Connell, past Rick O'Connell/Ardeth Bey

Characters: Rick O'Connell, Evelyn Carnahan, Jonathan Carnahan, OFC, Ardeth Bey, Julian Winter

Tags: two miserable people meeting at a wedding au, modern au, everyone is jewish, jonathan and rick went to college together, they are also fraternity brothers, rick is bisexual, i don't make the rules, ardeth bay more like ardeth bae

Notes: Written for my girl @atravelerinspirit.

Title from Bruno Mars' song "Marry You," which I hate as a wedding song but love for its sheer ridiculousness; also I’m still on my lowercase bullshit. Enjoy!

rick o'connell should know better than to attend any of his fraternity brothers' weddings by now, considering how well it has gone for him so far. david's wedding was a muddy mess with collapsing tents; bernard's wedding involved a cheating scandal between the bride and burns' own brother; isaac's wedding was amazing, so of course that is when rick decided to drink himself into a stupor and take one of his friends home. (it was a good thing that ardeth wasn't looking for a relationship and that the morning after wasn't too awkward for rick to be invited to his wedding years later.) but, of course, jonathan carnahan getting married is the last seal of the apocalypse—and rick just has to go see the carnage for himself. 

he arrives just before the rehearsal dinner starts and jonathan immediately introduces him to the bride. she is... everything he expected her to be. tall, blonde, beautiful—and rich. she's got more pearls on than a mikimoto exhibit and that cashmere sweater looks like it might be custom-made, but really the lovely and surprising thing is that she's actually sweet. she asks about his flight, laughs at his jokes, asks for stories of jonathan in college, and looks at jonathan with the kind of annoyed fondness that he deserves. rick doesn't quite know what to do with the information; an earnest marriage was not on the list of things he expected to attend this weekend. 

"she's really lovely," rick says to jonathan during the bachelor party right after. "you're lucky." 

jonathan laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. "don't i know it, dude."

he looks at ardeth for a long moment, gaze heavy, and seeing their matching tattoo peeking out between the buttons of his shirt makes rick ask himself way too many questions—so he drinks.

*** 

the ceremony is jewish, of course—rick managed to join the only jewish fraternity on campus and, by the time he figured it out, he had finally learned all the words to lecha dodi and it just seemed like a better idea to stick around—and it is also short and very much them, full of jonathan's humor and rebecca's quiet piety. their chuppah, redecorated from its last use at ardeth's wedding, is a welcome weight in his hands, and he clings to the pole he holds so he can keep himself steady. 

and then jonathan stomps on the glass and rick is suddenly the last single man in his entire pledge class. the reception can't come soon enough. 

so, of course, he can't even get a drink without having an existential crisis—this time brought on by ardeth looking like a mirage, on oasis in the desert, as he leans against the bar in his all-black ensemble. his hands are bare, rick notices, and the curve of his mouth is as sinful as always, and rick just cannot with this right now. fucking hell, he curses internally, turning on his heel and heading towards the other bar. 

the bar is packed, of fucking course, so rick tries to wedge himself between the crowd, which leads to him overhearing his least favorite kind of conversation—the one where the woman says no and the man hears try harder and everyone is miserable. so rick sighs, walks over, and wedges himself between the two of them, elbowing the man out of the way.

"the lady said no," he says firmly. "so fuck off." 

"language," she mutters, english accent crisp, but there's clear amusement in her hazel eyes. 

"hey, who the fuck are you?" the man asks, pushing back, but rick stands his ground. 

"i'm the dude who's going to punch you in the face and then get the groom to kick you out unless you leave the lady alone." 

the bartender places a whiskey in front of rick and points at the man. "just go, man." he does, muttering, and the bartender rolls his eyes. "on the house, white knight," the bartender tells rick, a smirk on his face as he walks away.  

"to strangers saving lives," she says solemnly, raising her glass, and rick laughs and clinks his glass to hers. 

"strangers are just friends you haven't met," he tells her with a wink. 

she laughs. "you don't actually believe that." 

"uh, no, but it seemed like a good idea at the time." 

her next peal of laughter leads her to bumps shoulders with him, and rick feels like his arm is burning even as he smiles at her. "are you angling for an introduction?" 

"i'm rick. rick o'connell. groom's fraternity brother and all-around jackass," he says after a minute. "i hate weddings and firmly believe hell is other people." 

she chuckles. "evie. evelyn carnahan, groom's younger sister and antisocial librarian. nice to meet you." 

rick blinks at her. "i'd... completely forgotten that jonathan had a sister because we never did get to meet."

"this is actually only the second time i've come to visit since jonathan chose to go on his american adventure," she explains, twirling her wine in her glass. "i'm not particularly well-suited for it, i don't think." 

"that's why i travel," he says quietly, leaning closer to her. "the rest of the world is just so interesting and there are so many people and places to discover... i'm not content staying here." 

evie smiles, a soft smile that makes her look almost ethereal, and rick swallows hard. "do you like london? britain in general?"

"very much so," he confesses. "not sure how much the english like me, mind you, but i had a hell of a time in london and the countryside was pretty enough for a weekend drinking and relaxing." 

a distinguished-looking man with glasses sits on the other corner of the bar, and evie tenses next to him, her hands curling around the stem of her glass. rick leans onto the bar a bit more, invading evie's field of vision. 

"ex you'd rather not talk to?" he asks quietly. she nods, dropping her gaze to the bar, and rick downs his whiskey in one gulp. "mine was leaning against the other bar and apparently he's not wearing his wedding ring anymore, so i ran over here. i'm thinking maybe you and i should run to the dance floor." 

evie finishes her wine and nods. "let's cut a rug, mr. o'connell." 

"please don't say that again," he says with a laugh, dragging her to the dance floor. 

*** 

they dance for hours. evie spins him around and laughs, and stumbles into his arms, and shimmies with glee. she dances with her brother while rick dances with rebecca; she coos over isaac's pregnant wife while rick and isaac fetch drinks; she dances with ardeth, looking dazzled, and rick watches them and clutches his glass and sighs. the man with glasses introduces himself—his name is julian and, in rick's humble opinion, he's a dick—and asks how long he's known evie, and she answers for him as she places a kiss on rick's cheek. 

"entirely too long and yet not long enough," she says with a grin, tucking herself into his side. "rick's one of my brother's favorite people." 

"and you're one of my favorite people," rick blurts out, looking down at her. his eyes roam her face, taking in her bright eyes and soft, rosy mouth, and his own mouth is suddenly much too dry.

"you're a flatterer, o'connell," she says with a smirk, pressing even closer to him, and rick forgets how to breathe. 

julian clears his throat. "it's so nice to see you again, evie." 

"you too, julian," she replies, eyes still locked with rick's, and julian maybe leaves then or maybe he leaves minutes later, with rick and evie still locked in a half embrace that is too much and not enough—rick doesn't even know what's happening anymore. 

the spell is broken when jonathan joins them, laughing. "o'connell! my favorite goy! and evie! my favorite sister!"

"his only sister," she informs rick sotto voce, taking a step away from rick so she can make room for jonathan to embrace them both. 

"are you guys having fun?" 

rick nods. "it's a great simcha, jonathan."

"what a fucking mensch," jonathan laughs, dropping a big kiss on rick's cheek. "i fucking love you, man." he turns to evie, still grinning. "isn't he a mensch?"

"he chased away a creep and annoyed julian for me, and he's got some hebrew? definite mensch." 

jonathan hugs rick tightly. "you're a hero. evie's hero." 

"go drink some water and dance with your wife again," rick suggests, hugging him back. "i'm going to go get some fresh air." 

he nods, kissing evie's cheek before running off, and rick and evie stare at each for a long moment. 

"mind if i join you?" she asks, her voice quiet. 

rick offers her his arm and leads her to a balcony. 

*** 

the balcony leads to a couch in the hotel lobby, which leads to sitting at the edge of the pool with their legs in and then to lying on the lawn outside of evie's garden suite and stargazing. they talk about anything and everything, hands sometimes brushing as they gesture animatedly, and rick finds that he is more relaxed with her than he's been with a new person in perhaps ever. they dance without music in her hotel room, stumble into her bed, and curl up around one another to talk some more. rick itches to reach out and touch her, to kiss her—he keeps reminding himself that she's jonathan's sister and she's not over julian and he's not over ardeth and he's about to get out of bed and leave to save himself when evie kisses him. 

"stay," she murmurs against his mouth. "tell me more about your travels. watch the sunrise with me. let's have breakfast." 

rick tenses, closing his eyes, but his arms tighten around her involuntarily. evie waits patiently, mouth still tantalizingly close, and then rick groans but kisses her just as softly as she'd kissed him. 

"we keep our clothes on, though," he whispers. 

evie nods. "just talk and sunrise and eggs. maybe a kiss or two." 

he smiles, shaking his head, and tangles a hand in her hair so he can kiss her again. "and after tomorrow?" he asks finally, gazing at her. 

"we'll play it by ear, o'connell," she replies with a smirk. 

so they do.

#rick x evie #the mummy #nerielle writes

[belphegor1982]

All aboard for chapter 5! Last chance for a breather before Plot strikes :3

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: The O'Connells are required by the English Government to bring the Diamond taken from Ahm Shere from Cairo to London. Things get interesting when Jonathan bumps by chance into an old friend of his from Oxford, Tom Ferguson…

Chapter 5: At the Bazaar (on AO3 here)

The next couple of days were surprisingly uneventful, by the O’Connell standards in any case. Rick had quickly got over his initial fury, mollified by the absence of notable events – apart from the actual theft of the diamond, and the fact that his brother-in-law avoided going out on nights for two days. That surprised Rick to no end, although, come to think of it, Jonathan really didn’t seem up to it. The man did look like he had been visited by the mother of all hangovers, although Rick knew that wasn’t the case. For once.

But of course, the real reason why his anger had died down so fast was Evelyn. The look on her face when she had gone to bed that night was something he had never seen before: sadness, and defeat. Evy never let herself be overcome by defeat, never. That had made him wonder silently as she slipped into their bed, not saying a word either. And it was the first thought that sneaked back into his mind when he woke up the morning after.

“Honey? You awake?”

She slept with her back to him after huddling against his chest during the night. Although this felt very comfortable, Rick always preferred it when she faced him, so he could watch her as she dreamed, and the funny faces she made then. It was also because of those little things, which he couldn’t live without, that Rick never regretted marrying her.

There were some other things that he found he definitely could do without, though. Like her misguided, so very annoying sense of responsibility – if she could take the blame for every damn mummy rising in Egypt or elsewhere, she would do it. She would always try to set things right no matter what the potential for catastrophe.

But she also had a way of making him feel like a complete heel every time he didn’t agree with her on something that was important to her. As long as it wasn’t life-threatening, that was okay, but right now, he was feeling downright miserable because of the way his wife had looked before she went to bed. And despite the fact that he was still certain that the idea of staying longer in Egypt was the worst since opening the chest with the Bracelet of Anubis, he was well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make Evy smile again.

His whisper was answered by a stir of the lovely round shoulders in front of him, and a muffled, sleepy voice, “Yes, dear… I’m awake.”

He put a tender hand on her shoulder, and planted a few small kisses on the back of her neck. “Evelyn – look, I’m sorry about yesterday.” Even after all these years, even to her, he still had some trouble apologising. And she knew it. He heard a slight change in her breathing. “I didn’t mean what I said. I mean, I meant it then, but I didn’t mean to mean it – I was just angry, and worried, is all.”

Evy turned slightly, and he could partly see her face over her shoulder. Her eyes were shining in the half-light of the rising sun behind the shutters.

“I know you were worried. We’ve already gone through that before. But that doesn’t excuse your words, Rick. And it certainly doesn’t solve the problem.”

“Which problem are we talking about, exactly?” So many problems had appeared with the disappearance of that diamond, he didn’t know which one to pick.

“You told me very clearly that you wouldn’t be part of anything, this time. That I can understand. But –”

“No, please – the real problem is that I don’t want to get involved in this, but you do, quite obviously. And there’s another problem: each time you get involved in something when you shouldn’t, something happens and you’re caught right in the middle of it. That is what I don’t want to happen.”

To his amazement, Evy let out a little laugh, which shook her shoulders slightly. She rolled on her back and looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. Jonathan said pretty much the same thing yesterday, almost to the word – that he didn’t want to get ‘involved’, but that I clearly did. And he was very upset about that last part – even angry, I’d say.”

“That shows your brother’s making sense. For once, I completely agree with him.” And that was saying something considering the number of things they disagreed on. “By the way… I didn’t have time to ask yesterday – is he okay?”

This time, Evelyn turned to him, and he could see her entire face. It was a welcome sight, especially given the fact that she was still smiling slightly.

“He will be. But he had me thoroughly afraid for a little while.” Her smile vanished, and she gazed into the space in front of her. When she looked back at him, her eyes were serious. “Believe me, darling, I’m not doing it for… for thrills or some misplaced notion of fun. The Bracelet, the Sceptre – every object linked to Ahm Shere caused pain to the world, and to us in particular, and I have a feeling that this diamond might not be an exception to the rule. I want to see it safe, because I want to see you safe. You, Alex, Jonathan – you’re my only family, and I can’t bear to think about any of you getting hurt.”

Rick listened silently. Voiced that way, her motives made complete sense. His fury of yesterday had been fuelled by the fear he had of losing Evy or Alex again, and the need he felt to protect his family. Evy had had exactly the same reaction, only taking different decisions, in her own true way. And while such decisions were annoying as hell, they were also understandable.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetheart, I appreciate that,” he sighed with a smile to signal his surrender. “But I’d like to point out to you that you were the one who died last time. So allow me to feel a little unsure about all this.”

Her eyes grew sadder, and she snuggled against him. He held her back, taking the opportunity to caress the soft skin of her arms, immensely glad that the fight was over.

“So… does that mean you will still be with me?”

“Frankly, Evy –” Rick slightly shook his head, incredulous. “I can’t believe you are asking me that. Of course I will – I always will. That’s what this ring stands for, doesn’t it? I love you, and I’ll always be with you… Even if that means putting up with your – what’d Jonathan say the other day? Those Englishmen, they do have a knack for understatements… ‘idiosyncrasies.’ Yeah, that’s it.”

He grinned at her, and she gave a broad smile. Their faces were so close that their foreheads were almost touching. From there he could look properly at her features and her bright eyes, count the few freckles on her nose, and see the small lines that had begun to creep at the corners of her eyes. Rick found himself liking those lines. Each one meant something they had gone through together, a moment they had lived together, a laugh or a worry they had shared. And he didn’t mind lines on his own face, as long as they mirrored his wife’s. He wanted to live with her, and that also meant growing old with her.

And it really couldn’t hurt if she was still kissing like that in twenty years, he thought as their lips touched.

Mmh… Definitely not.

.⅋.

“You really have no idea what you’ll give Mum for her birthday, have you?”

Alex stopped in his tracks and squinted up at his uncle with a frown. Even at this hour in the morning, the sunlight made his eyes ache slightly whenever he looked up from his shoes.

Uncle Jon squinted back, his eyes reduced to a pair of blue slits. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been thoroughly looking for a gift for quite some time. Really. I just seem to be unable to find the perfect present, that’s all.”

Alex waited, feeling that something was still to come.

“Having said that, I remain open to suggestions.”

“I knew it.” Alex rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a clue.”

“I do!” retorted Jonathan indignantly.

“You don’t.”

“I do, too!”

“You don’t!”

“I do!”

“You don’t!”

“I do!”

“You don’t!”

“I don’t!”

“You do!” Alex closed his mouth with a snap just after uttering the last syllable, realising that he’d been had. He glared at his uncle, who was chuckling discreetly.

“That wasn’t playing fair, Uncle Jon.”

“You’re right, partner,” Jonathan said with a laugh. “Next time I’ll be more of a sport.”

Alex nodded his approval seriously, and straightened the solar topee1 on his head, wishing that it was not so big. The thing kept sliding off, and it was really annoying. It was nine in the morning, and uncle and nephew had sneaked out to the bazaar, leaving a note to Mum and Dad on the kitchen table. His parents had not come out of their room yet. Uncle Jon had said something about the two of them still having some making up to do, and as Alex realised that it would involve a lot of kissing, hugging and other dubious stuff, he’d been more than happy to go outside and help his uncle find a fitting present for Mum.

They had just arrived at the bazaar: a large esplanade a little outside the centre of the city with ground of hard-packed earth, where quite a number of tents had been pitched, some more crookedly than others. Behind many, always nearby, the owners’ mules or camels were peacefully chewing on what they could; those who could afford a shaded spot for their beasts, let alone some extra fresh food, were lucky and rare.

Alex always liked bazaars, Cairo’s bazaar in particular, with its bright colours, strong smells, loud noises, and never-ending movements. The robes of men in coloured djellabas and women with stern eyes brushed past him as he let his eyes wander endlessly, reminding him of his dislike of still walking at armpit-level. But that familiar feeling didn’t alter the pleasure of being there. There was so much to see at once, and hear, and feel.

“Want some sound advice, Alex?” said Uncle Jon, his long hand clutching his nephew’s. “Keep an eye out for hustlers. There are so many unscrupulous characters in this world, you may not know them before they swindle you, you mark my words.”

The boy refrained from observing slyly that there had been some times when his uncle had not shown many qualms over a few shady deeds of his own – after all, Jonathan had been the one who had taught Alex how to open a door without a key, something Mum never needed to know – and tightened his hand around the few English coins he had in the pocket of his shorts. It wasn’t much, but it was his, and Mum wouldn’t like it if he lost his money.

“Here – what d’you think of those?” Jonathan was pointing to a display of golden trinkets of faux Ancient Egyptian style. Alex shook his head.

“That’s a knockoff, Uncle Jon. She won’t like it.”

“I know this one’s fake, I mean this sort of style could do the trick,” grumbled Jonathan, obviously offended that his own nephew didn’t believe him capable of telling a false treasure from a genuine one. Alex was perfectly aware of his uncle’s knowledge when it came to gold. But it was fun to tease him. He fell for it every time, just like Mum when Dad teased her.

“Why don’t you buy her a dress or something? She did like the last one you gave her.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Your dad’s already offering her a new set of ‘adventurer’s’ clothes, the kind she likes to wear here, with trousers and stuff.”

Alex smirked.

“Don’t you like it when she wears trousers then?”

A non-committal noise accompanied a second shrug.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I happen to find it rather distasteful, but as long as she’s comfortable… Evy’s always been pigheaded when it came to her appearance. Have you seen pictures of her before she met your dad?”

Oh, yes he had. It was hard to think that his mum had once looked like that, a young girl with old-fashioned clothes, little round glasses, a tight bun, and such a bossy air about her. She still used glasses to read, but much thinner than they had been, and she let her hair down most of the time. And the skirts she wore now were nothing like the long, stiff-looking ones she used to wear.

“Yeah. She looked like Mrs Blimp – sorry, Mrs Blinppiditch, my old teacher.”

“I suppose that’s saying a lot.” It was Jonathan’s turn to smirk. “What I mean is that your mum doesn’t care a jot about clothes and whatnot, and it’s always been like that. She wouldn’t hear a single word about it. When you were on your way – not born yet – Rick and I talked her into wearing light dresses, and I think your dad enjoyed that a lot. But as soon as she was back in Egypt with her hammers and chisels, she found out that trousers were more practical than dresses and skirts. Which is, I’m sure, not untrue.”

Alex, who only wore long trousers on Sundays and important occasions, did not fully agree with him. Shorts were indeed quite handy here in Egypt, more so than longer ones; if he wanted to climb up a wall or a tree, his mum would surely be more inclined to punish him if any harm came to the precious trousers. He preferred by far her fussing over a pair of scraped knees than ruined trouser legs.

Then again, the thought of his mum in short trousers made him cringe inwardly. What would the lads say, at school? They always said that his mum was quite pretty – as much for a girl as for a mum – but some already sniggered when she came to get him at the gates, after school, and fussed over him like he was still a little kid. This sort of thing could ruin a lad’s reputation if he was not careful. Of course he was glad whenever he saw her, especially after what happened at Ahm Shere, but… sometimes he wished she could just leave him alone.

Problem was, this kind of thinking often bothered him. You couldn’t go thinking that way about your mum, could you?

“What’s so nice about dresses, then?”

“Don’t ask me. I haven’t been in a dress since that panto2 in sixth form and you won’t get me to remember that disaster as long as I live.”

Alex chuckled. “I’ll ask Ardeth Bay, then. He’s the only guy I know who wears something close enough.”

“Now look here, you –” Uncle Jon looked as if he wanted to scold him, but couldn’t quite do it because of the smile he was trying to hide. He did that very often. “Don’t go joking about Medjai clothes, especially around him. They can be a little touchy about some stuff. And besides, if someone deserves respect, it’s him. The number of times that bloke saved our necks…”

“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, honest!” said Alex, who had had a great admiration for the Medjai chieftain ever since he first saw him, years and years ago on his first trip to Egypt. Even if the man’s sense of humour seemed to appear just as often as Uncle Jon’s conscience did. “And don’t worry, I’m not daft enough to joke about that in front of him.”

“I believe the Western phrase for this sort of situation is, ‘Speak of the devil’…” said a quiet voice with an Eastern lilt somewhere near Jonathan. Alex’s uncle gave a start and turned wide eyes at the dark-clad shadow who had seemed to appear out of thin air just beside him. Ardeth Bay was standing there, wearing a dark brown cloak over his black and silver Medjai robes. His bright eyes were smiling as he lowered his hood.

“I say,” stammered Jonathan, one hand clutching his heart, “it’s jolly good to see you, Ardeth, old boy, but I’m getting a mite old for this sort of scare. How’s the family?”

“A pleasure to see you too, my friend.” Ardeth laughed quietly, shaking Uncle Jon’s hand as colour crept back up to the latter’s face. “They’re very well, thank you for asking. Imeni still worries that Maira is too serious for her age, and Sabni now insists on following his sister everywhere, even when he shouldn’t3.”

“Don’t I know the feeling,” said Jonathan fervently. Ardeth smiled at that, then gave a nod to Alex. The boy could have sworn that the dark eyes were twinkling.

“Good morning, Alex O’Connell. Don’t worry about offending me with jokes, I know you have good intentions. And a little humour at times cannot hurt.”

Okay. Point taken. It wasn’t the first time Alex thought the strange man could read minds.

“Hi, Ardeth,” he said with a grin, looking up and trying not to squint too much. Bloody light. “You’re here for the diamond, aren’t you?”

Ardeth raised his black eyebrows. “I see that the habit of getting straight to the point has passed on to the next generation in the O’Connell family.” Alex felt his cheeks grow warmer in spite of himself. If there was a person in the world who could, with a single glance, put him in his place, make sure he stayed there for a couple of seconds, and manage to not make him feel rotten in the meanwhile, it was this man. He sure was imposing enough for it.

“Yes, I am indeed heading for the museum. Dr Hakim sent for me, and I set off as soon as I received the message.”

“That was pretty fast,” commented Jonathan with a low whistle as they walked a little away from the crowd of the bazaar. Ardeth nodded.

“In times of need, I have Neith to help me.”

Something dawned on Alex’s uncle’s face. “Oh – like Horus?”

“C’mon, Uncle Jon, Neith’s nothing to do with Horus in Egyptian Mythology!” Alex protested, unwilling to believe that Jonathan had forgotten that part. He had spent whole nights talking about Egyptian legends with his uncle when he couldn’t sleep.

“You are mistaken, young O’Connell,” said Ardeth. “Your uncle was speaking of a falcon friend of mine who once was of great help to me, sending word to the Twelve Tribes before the Rising of the Army of Anubis two years ago. I was quite grieved when he was killed over the Oasis of Ahm Shere.”

“Oh – sorry.” Alex felt uncomfortable. Not just because of his mistake, but also because of something that had seemed, for a split second, to cloud over the bright eyes. Even if all had been set up ages before it happened, as his mum had told him, it still seemed that a lot of people had got hurt as a direct consequence of his putting on the Bracelet. ‘No harm ever came from putting on a bracelet’, his mum would say, according to Dad. Well, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“No harm done, Alexander,” said Ardeth, and Alex was somewhat relieved to see that his eyes were still smiling. Even though he still didn’t like it at all when people called him by his full name, even if it was Ardeth, who always called Mum ‘Evelyn’, not ‘Evy’ like Dad and his uncle Jon. “Neith is indeed a falcon; she’s fast, and quite clever, which is why Fahad sends her for long distance messages. And he’s explained everything that happened the day before yesterday.”

Alex saw the dark eyes flicker to the light bandage that showed slightly under Jonathan’s hat. Mum had insisted that he wore it till tonight, and he had reluctantly conceded.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, head hard as a rock – blighter banged with all his might, though. Thanks for the concern,” Jonathan said with a smile. Then he winced. “Blast it, now I think of it… As my ever so subtle brother-in-law once put it, ‘You’re here, bad guys are here’… There’s all this ominous doom and gloom going on with that blasted diamond… All we need now is Evy getting kidnapped, God forbid –”

“And another raising of the Creature happens?” ended Ardeth, one black eyebrow raised. The thought of someone’s sense of humour going on a holiday crossed Alex’s mind, and he clung to this idea to avoid thinking about the cold, empty eyes of Imhotep. “Hamunaptra has remained quiet ever since Hafez’s men stopped digging. We found the Book of the Living there, and we keep it under close watch, night and day. As for the Creature itself… Lucky would be the one who could manage to find its body under the sands of Ahm Shere. Besides, according to what Evelyn and O’Connell told me, it’s very unlikely that he would even be willing to be raised a third time. His love abandoned him.”

“You know, I still can’t believe how hurt he looked back then,” Uncle Jon said, looking thoughtful. “I actually felt sorry for the bloke, despite the whole Evil Mummy Enemy thing and everything he’d done. If he still had a heart at that point, I bet we all could’ve heard it shatter into little pieces.”

“Despite all the ancient resentment of my people against the Creature, I probably would have felt pity for him as well, had I been there,” Ardeth said, not departing from his quiet smile. “Feeling pity for an enemy can be thought of as a weakness by some, but it is one of our prerogatives as human beings.”

For all the respect he had for the serious Medjai leader, Alex could not understand this knack of his for long, intricate sentences that sounded like riddles. And it was a little bit frustrating to never be sure whether these were riddles or not. The only sign was the grin Ardeth would give afterwards, brief but always striking with a flash of white teeth against skin the colour of light coffee.

The grin came, although slightly subdued. “Nothing has been decided yet, so you do not have to worry,” said the Medjai, before looking intently at Jonathan and Alex in turn. “All I ask from you and your family is to keep yourselves out of this as much as possible. I don’t doubt that you would only be trying to help, but I don’t think that it would be a good idea, much as I value your aid and your friendship.”

“Tell that to Mum,” muttered Alex, shuffling on a little patch of earth. Ardeth’s eyes flashed to him.

“Your mother is known as a person who’ll do whatever she thinks is right,” he said seriously, “and even if that has led her into trouble many a time, it is still something to respect.” Then the hint of a smile flickered over his face. “Although I must say that, despite all her good intentions, Evelyn O’Connell is also known for her stubbornness and her tendency of getting where she shouldn’t.”

“Amen to that, my friend!” Uncle Jon said with a wide grin, his blue eyes twinkling. “You seldom spoke a truer truth.”

The three of them shared a knowing smile. Then Ardeth looked around, before replacing the hood of his brown cloak over his head. His eyes, almost hidden in shadow, came to rest on Jonathan, and Alex in turn.

“Be sure to send my regards to Evelyn and O’Connell,” he said. “I don’t know whether I will be able to greet them myself.”

“Oh, come on, old chap, you’re always welcome to drop by anytime,” protested Uncle Jon heartily.

“Yeah,” added Alex. “It’d be smashing if you could come over some time. Really spiffing.”

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that means you’d be happy to see me?”

Alex chose to take that seriously. “Of course, honestly –” The crooked grin told him that someone’s sense of humour was back from holiday. Ardeth’s quiet chuckle echoed his.

“I may be seeing you in the future, then. Till then, good day.”

And he was gone. Only one second, and he had vanished into the crowd, his cloak blending perfectly.

“Do you know,” Jonathan said, squinting in the sun before lowering his eyes to his nephew, “I think Ardeth might enjoy being the dark and mysterious figure a little too much for his own good.”

“Probably,” answered Alex, as he felt a grin pull at the corner of his mouth. “But he does a damn great job of it. So who cares?”

This earned him a small laugh from his uncle Jon, who grinned down. “Let it be remembered that you were the voice of reason on this one, son.”

They were both laughing as they returned to the crowd of the bazaar. However, after a little while spent at looking at tents where they sold elaborate tea sets, hookahs, and loads of other jewellery, they had returned to arguing about Alex’s mum’s birthday.

“I’m just saying that you’re being entirely too negative about all this – there, look, maybe a good book will do nicely!”

They had just come across a display of a few old-looking books, and Alex had to admit that Jonathan was right. His mum loved books, especially old ones, and among these old ones she was mad about everything that had anything to do with Egypt.

They made for the table where the books lay, but Alex was growing more and more sceptical about it. There were few books he knew of which Mum didn’t have already. Still, it might be worth a try.

However, his hopes slowly dwindled as the two browsed the titles on the tattered covers, recognising most of the books for having seen them somewhere, either in the mansion – as Alex liked to call it – or their smaller house in Cairo.

“Tough luck,” sighed Uncle Jon as he put down yet another book, this one with the words Cult of Cats in the XIIth Dynasty embossed in gold on the cover. “Seems that my dear sister owns every damn book out there about Egypt…”

“Jon? ‘That you?”

Jonathan turned, and Alex peered around his uncle to see Tom Ferguson standing near the table, a smile on his broad face.

“Hullo, Tommy,” said Jonathan, looking equally pleased. “Looking for something in particular?”

“Nah, not really.” Tom shook his head, sandy hair falling into his eyes. “I come to this tent every day to see if there’s somethin’ new out – I told you the other day I just have this thing for old books.” He leant over the table to greet the owner of the tent, who seemed to know him; they exchanged a few words in Arabic, which Alex didn’t catch all of, although he did understand that Tom was asking for new acquisitions. He got a negative answer, and nodded his thanks, looking disappointed; then he turned back to Jonathan.

“Too bad… Been a couple of days since they got something new. What about you? What’re you doing here?”

“Playing at knight of the Quest for the Ultimate Birthday Present,” deadpanned Uncle Jon despondently, making his nephew chortle. “Evy’s birthday’s in three weeks, and I still haven’t got anything to give her.”

“Starting to get a little panicked there, are ya?” Tom gave a laugh. “I know the feeling. You should see the rush I get into every year when it’s Liz’s birthday.”

“Is Liz your sister then?” asked Alex. If it was, then he was definitely not keen on having a little sibling some day. He had enough trouble managing to scrape together for presents for three people at Christmases and birthdays.

Tom smiled. “No, Elizabeth’s me wife.”

“Ah – sorry, my mistake.” But that didn’t make Alex change his mind about little siblings.

“Oh, before I forget!” exclaimed Tommy, switching subjects with an easiness that made Alex wonder. “Good thing I bumped into you now, ‘cause Hamilton’d like to see you about what happened the day before yesterday – for the report, you know. I was going to send you a telegram, but since you’re here… Tomorrow at four.”

“Hamilton? Your boss?” Jonathan frowned. “Why’s that? Isn’t your report enough?”

Tommy shrugged. “That’s the rule of the Department – gather information from as many sources as possible. You must’ve noticed that with the file I lent you… My superiors are maniacs whenever rules are concerned.”

There was a short silence, then Tommy gave a nod toward Jonathan’s head, and asked rather uncomfortably, “Speaking of the other day… Does it still hurt?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “What are you people making such a fuss for, honestly? I got coshed on the head, so what? I’m quite all right, thank you.” Then he stopped, and looked at Tommy, something softening on his face. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Tommy with a wave of his hand. “For once I got lucky – you got the short end of the stick.” He was silent for a second, and Alex found that he could relate to the guy’s hesitation. He always felt slightly uneasy himself when dealing with concern for someone that wasn’t his mum. It was so much easier to be Mum’s little boy than a big, tough guy, even if it was more embarrassing… Of course, being Dad’s big guy had its advantages. Then again, Dad hadn’t been a mum’s little boy for very long. That was something Alex just couldn’t imagine, a boy without a mum.

At least, he had never come to imagine it before the events at Ahm Shere two years ago. Afterwards, he’d wondered sometimes what his life would’ve been without his mum, and he had always kept this train of thought brief. As Ardeth had said at some point, while the memories of the past were a precious thing, it did a man no good to dwell upon them. Yes, it had to be something along those lines.

“Not to insist or anything, but – I’m serious, mate, you really got me scared back there. When I came round, I saw your sister bent over you, your head was bleedin’… Believe me, you looked dead.”

For once, Alex was glad he was not eye-level with the adults. It would have been difficult not to look too conspicuous as he felt his cheeks lose their colour and his stomach do a somersault. While worry for Mum and Dad when they ventured into those creepy pyramids full of traps had become such a familiar feeling that he was almost used to it, he had never had an opportunity to think that someday, his uncle might not be there. Well, not quite: for a few seconds, down in the pyramid, he’d feared that his mum would be too late to stop that witch Anck-su-namun as her arm came down to stab Jonathan. It would’ve been awful if his uncle died just as his mum came back. As that old but funny Irish bloke4 had once said, losing one family member was a tragedy. Losing two was carelessness.

Jonathan looked slightly uncomfortable for a second, then his old grin was back on his face as he quipped, “Well, considering Evy’s propensity to wake the dead, I wouldn’t have stayed that way for long, would I? Besides, I can recall some occurrences when the two of us ended looking more dead than alive. Let me think, there was this incident with the girls’ college…”

Puzzled but highly interested, Alex looked from Uncle Jon to Tommy, whose brown eyes, which had seemed a little dimmed during these last minutes, lit up suddenly. “Oh, yeah, I remember. I reckon I was the one to blame for this… But you chatted up the wrong girl in the King’s Arms, and we ended up having to hide in that cellar for two days after that.”

All right. This was getting more and more interesting, and Alex made a mental note to ask his uncle about it later. He also wondered briefly at Jonathan’s disconcerting ability for changing subjects. All trace of uneasiness had disappeared, and the two men wore an identical grin on their faces.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right – and that this blow on your head didn’t erase fond school memories,” said Tommy with a lopsided smile that Uncle Jon returned. “I do hope that nobody’s getting hurt next time we’re in the same room, though.”

Alex couldn’t help but grin. That was something Mum used to say – with a slight variation – the first few times she left him in Jonathan’s care for an entire evening. She seemed to think that, as soon as she left them together without her to watch over, disaster would swoop down on the house faster than you could say ‘catastrophe’. ‘And I hope that nobody will be hurt next time I enter the room!’ How many times had he heard it?

“And it’s equally good to see that your skull is as hard as it once was,” retorted Jonathan in the same tone of voice. “So – tomorrow at four, then?”

“Yeah, at my office. And don’t be late!” Tommy said in a mock stern tone, pointing a warning finger at him. “Hamilton can be moderately pleasant when he wants to, but he has a thing for punctuality, and you don’t want to be near him when he’s in a bad mood.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, don’t worry.”

“See ya, then!”

“Cheers!”

Tommy shook Uncle Jon’s hand, gently clapped Alex’s shoulder and left with a last grin. Unlike Ardeth, who had seemed to merge into the landscape in the twinkling of an eye, it was a little while before his broad frame disappeared from sight.

“Uncle Jon…” said Alex after a few seconds as a thought crossed his mind. “What did happen at that girls’ college?”

Blue eyes looked down at him, twinkling. “I do think that if I ever told you, and your dad happened to hear about it, he’d kill me on the spot and put my head in a frame on the wall.”

Alex was silent for a moment, long enough to get the mental picture right; then he grinned up at Jonathan. “And what about this – ‘incident’ in the King’s Arms? You could tell me about that, couldn’t you?”

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck before grinning sheepishly. “If I did, then your dad would have to dig me up, so that he would kill me again. Oh, and I’m sure your mum would give him a hand.”

Whoa. It sounded definitely worth it. “That bad, eh?”

“Maybe when you’re a little older. Just a little.” It really had to be serious, because Alex knew that his uncle was aware of his dislike for such excuses. To his credit, he didn’t use them very often.

“But you will tell me some day, right, Uncle Jon?” he asked earnestly. Jonathan grinned.

“Right-ho, partner. Promise I will. Now let’s get a present for your mum, shall we?”

Happy to have his uncle’s promise, Alex followed him into the coloured crowd of robes and suits, still clinging to his hand.

Not a piece of jewellery, not a dress, not a book… Maybe a camel would do the trick, after all.

.⅋.

1aka. a pith helmet.

2Pantomine – a play where every male character is played by a woman, and vice versa. I actually did one about Snow White when I studied English in uni. I played a stoner version of either Sleepy or Sneezy. It was hilarious and I had a great time.

3We don’t know much about Medjai naming traditions, do we? The only one we have is Ardeth, which comes from Hebrew and is traditionally a female name. I ended up giving the Medjai both Egyptian and Ancient Egyptian first names.

4That’s Oscar Wilde, in The Importance of Being Earnest: “To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”

(hoping the HTML footnotes work... EDIT: well, they don’t, but at least they tell the potential reader there’s a footnote. *shrug* Ah well.)

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #my stuff #fanfiction #the mummy #the mummy films