The process of healing - Pain and guilt

[Neferet's POV]

After a week of obediently staying in bed to recover, Neferet had had enough. If this continued, she was doomed to become one with the bed. She needed some exercises, urgently!

There was just one problem; she couldn't exactly stand on her feet yet.

And honestly, there hadn't been a need to either. She suspected a dozen servants were waiting by the door until she actually needed something.

Merenre had also payed her daily visits, mainly to check up on her wounds. Every day he asked her what she'd like to eat and he'd fulfil her request without fail, no matter how ridiculous it was.

The first day, she'd asked for a slice of bread. She got a slice of bread with dates, some grapes and a cup of beer with a straw. That's when it dawned on her that she was at a rich man's house, so she decided to test her hosts hospitality.

After the first day, she'd asked for roasted tilapia, stew and even honeyed tiger-nut cakes. If she could keep eating this type of food, she'd regain her beautiful curves in no time.

All thanks to Merenre's expertise and care, the thought of rejoining her khener had started taking form in her mind. If you disregarded the minor problem of actually finding her khener that is. And the fact that her skin was now blemished. Even though it was nothing like some of the horrible scars she'd seen on her travels.

But before all that, she needed to relearn how to walk. So that's why she was sitting at the edge of the bed, testing how much pressure her wrapped up feet could take.

It was looking rather good. Merenre said the wounds on the bottom of her feet were healing nicely and the stinging pain she used to feel, had lessened considerably.

She dared to push herself off the edge of the bed, but immediately lost her balance and started falling. She scrambled to catch a hold somewhere but failed miserably.

She was in for a nasty fall towards the pots and baskets, again. But before her body could touch any offending objects, she found herself hanging in mid-air, no longer falling. She felt a strong arm around her waist and followed it up until she found a face.

"Amon?!" she asked surprised. "When did you get here?"

She'd been afraid of him at first, but it already quickly became clear he didn't have a malicious bone in his body.

It also helped that he cleaned up well. There was no trace left of the day-old beard. It made his rough edges seem softer.

The second time she'd seen him, he'd accidentally come to her room out of habit. Which was understandable, since she was sleeping in his room to begin with. She'd offered to transfer to a room that wasn't his, but he wouldn't have it. He said that his bed was by far the most comfortable one in the house and that Merenre had said it would improve her rehabilitation. They had started talking after that and she'd come to like him.

"Just now," he answered after a second as if he needed a second to adjust to the sudden closeness. "I had opened the door only a slit when I saw you push off the bed."

And indeed, the door was still hanging open as proof of what he was saying. He pulled her up straight to a more comfortable position, but as soon as more weight pressed down on her feet, she stumbled again, straight into his strong chest. She hissed in pain as she clung to his neck in an attempt to lessen the pain, but kept stumbling.

"What are you trying to do anyway?" he asked as he effortlessly lifted her from the ground and started lowering her to the bed again.

"Don't you dare!" she cursed and he halted mid motion. "I need to get out of the bed. I need to start walking again! How can I rejoin my khener if I can't even stand?"

"You don't have to leave, you know?" Amon said. "At least until you've fully recovered, I wish you would just stay here, where I know you're safe."

"It's not just that," she complained as she carefully lowered her feet to the ground once more, ignoring his much too intimate response. This time she didn't stumble immediately, thanks to Amon supporting her. "I need to get out of the bed. I'll get fat if I don't start moving soon! And I want to take a look around. I bet the rest of the house is just as beautiful as this room."

"Oh, you have no idea," he chuckled.

"So you'll help me?" she asked, a note of victory shining through.

"I didn't say that. I think you should stay in bed like a good girl until Merenre says you're completely healed."

"No~!" she complained. "That will take way too long! I'll get used to my sore feet in a second. Please, Amon? Will you show me around?"

He stared down at her puppy face for a moment, thinking her offer through first, then he sighed.

"You'll be trying again as soon as I leave the room, won't you?" he asked by way of confirmation.

"You bet I will," she grinned proudly, glad he understood.

"Ok, I will show you around," he said. She cheered happily. "But the second I notice anything is off, we're coming back to your room and you're going to rest like you're supposed to. Deal?!"

"Ugh, ok... Deal!" she said. As soon as she'd said so, he pulled one of her arms around his neck and wrapped his other around her waist to support her.

"You ok like this?" he asked. For a second, she thought he was asking about their close proximity, but already quickly she realised he was asking about the pain in her feet. She nodded as she willed her cheeks not to blush.

"Here we go," he said and took a slow step forward. Again an awful pain shot through her, making her hiss. She bit her lip in concentration.

"Don't hold your breath," he scolded. "Keep breathing or I'll be putting your fainted ass back into the bed before we even managed to leave the room."

She chuckled in agreement but didn't comment.

They'd barely made it to the inner garden when she realised the pain wasn't getting better. In fact, it might be getting worse. She was sweating droplets and her feet weren't even supporting her full weight yet. Maybe Amon had been right. Maybe she should go back to her room and rest until Merenre said she was ready to walk again.

Amon gently lowered her on a chair. She was panting like she'd ran a marathon in the dessert.

"Are you ok?" he asked carefully. His eyes couldn't look more worried if he tried.

"No, I'm not," she said on the verge of tears.

"Show me your feet," he said as he held out a hand. She obediently placed one foot in it and he checked the bandage at the bottom.

"I don't think your wounds have reopened," he said as he was done checking her second foot and held a hand to her forehead, like he'd seen Merenre do so many times. "I don't think you have a fever either. Would you still like to look around? Or would you rather go back to rest?"

"I can't," she said, a hot tear gliding down her cheek. "It hurts too much."

He gently wiped the tear from her face and smiled.

"Come on, I'll carry you!" he said, as he offered his back to her.

"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully. "I'm heavy you know?"

"Don't underestimate me," he laughed. "Who do you think carried you here from the dessert?"

She blushed.

"You have?" she asked as she accepted his offer and climbed on his back. "I guess I haven't thanked you yet."

He chuckled. "You're welcome. Now, what do you want to see first?"

"The whole house!" she cried overjoyed as Amon stood. He was so tall! She could see everything from up here! "I want to see for myself just how rich you are."

He snorted at that.

"You're having a hard time believing I actually am rich, don't you?" he asked as he grinned playfully over his shoulder.

"That's not it," she said shaking her head. "I've performed at quite a few big houses and seen the wealth that comes with them, but I've never seen the likes of your house. You must have saved the pharaoh life to be able to afford such a huge one!"

He laughed and shook his head.

"I can't imagine you dancing. Have you really performed at that many big houses?" he said and started walking.

"How rude," she said as she slapped his shoulder, earning herself a chuckle. "I was not only famous for my beauty, I'm also a wonderful dancer and musician."

"I bet you were," he flashed her a grin over his shoulder. "And I'm the ruler of Egypt!"

She slapped him again. "You're still mocking me! Give me a lute and I'll prove it to you!"

"That's actually a good idea. I might," he said as they entered the common room. Two little boys came running towards them as soon as they saw Amon and they both hugged one of his legs.

"Hello boys," he chuckled as he rubbed a hand over their heads fondly.

"Who are they?" Neferet asked from his back. The boys looked up startled. One of them gave her an angry glare and hugged Amon a little tighter. This little boy wasn't going to share.

"This are Intef and Amenemhat, my sons," Amon said proudly. Neferet stiffened. Suddenly, it was hard to breath. She'd formed herself an image of Amon, were he had been too busy leading the pharaoh's military campaign's to start a family of his own, like she had been too busy travelling with her khener. She'd felt sympathetic towards him for this reason. But here were two boys who proved this image to be wrong. She suddenly felt as if he'd lied to her all this time, even though he'd never done such a thing.

"Your sons?" she asked as her throat constricted, making it hard to talk. "Where's their mother?"

"She died," Amon said, a frown appearing on his face. "What's wrong?"

"What is wrong?" she thought. Now that was a question she'd like to know the answer to herself.

"He's not leading me on. His wive is dead," her thoughts continued on frantically. "All that's left behind are the children. This is good news, he won't need a heir anymore."

"T-they are really beautiful," she choked out, tears burning in her eyes. Within seconds, Amon had set her on a chair and was kneeling right in front of her. She couldn't look at him. These children brought up some horrible memories. Memories of failure. Memories of despair. She'd even unconsciously wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach.

"Neferet, look at me, please. You're scaring me," Amon said as he gently held her by the shoulders. When she didn't look up, he gently placed a finger on her chin and tilted her head up. His eyes were full of worry. "Talk to me, Neferet. What's wrong."

But instead of answering, her eyes darted through the room. She could see a bunch of servants gathering around them, and also Intef and Amenemhat hovering nearby. All of them were curious to what was happening.

"Neferet," Amon urged. This time drawing her attention only to him. He looked so worried. Worried and ready to murder whoever had caused her this pain. She pulled her chin free from his hand and looked away. She couldn't tell him. What would she tell him anyway? That she was broken? Inside and out? No way!

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a little hand on her knee. When she whipped her attention towards the face of the owner of the hand, she found one of Amon's sons.

She expected to find worry or pity in his face, but instead she found understanding. He understood life had been hard. He understood that it hurt. He understood that she didn't want to talk about it. But how could that be? The boy was still so small!

A big fat tear dripped from her chin. She quickly reached a hand up to wipe it away, only to find the tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry," she said as she swiped madly at the never ending stream of tears. "I don't know what has come over me. I never cry!"

The understanding little boy looked at her, knitted his brows together and hugged her. He was sitting on his knees in front of her and was barely tall enough to wrap his little arms around her waist, his face pressed against her tummy.

Neferet froze.

For the longest moment, she didn't dare to breath. She simply didn't know what to do. Her gaze flashed to the servants who'd gathered around. Some of them looked shocked, others looked confused, and one of them was already drawing nearer. It looked like he was about to pull the little boy away from her.

Neferet automatically wrapped her arms around the little boy protectively.

"Don't touch him," she hissed like an angry cat, surprising even herself. "Don't you dare take him away from me!"

The servant who'd approached them, quickly withdrew his hand and stared at her in shock for an instant. Then he turned his head with a questioning expression towards Amon. Amon didn't even look surprised.

"Go get Merenre," he said to the servant and motioned towards the others to leave as well. They all scurried away, hurrying as if their life depended on it. "Neferet, you need to talk to me. That servant only wanted to help you. There was no need to shout like that."

"B-but...," she started but couldn't say anything. She looked down at the little boy still hugging her. He hadn't let go. His grip hadn't loosened at all. It was comforting. She felt protected.

"I'm sorry," she wailed. Through her tears she saw her own emotions reflected on the face of Amon's second son. The next thing she knew, he was standing beside her, placed a soft, innocent kiss on her cheek and hugged her around her shoulders. Now the three of them were crying.

"Now, now, boys," Amon said, his voice choked up too. "I think you're making it worse."

Amon rubbed the back of the boy who'd hugged her around her tummy, gently coaxing him to let go of her, but the boy didn't let go.