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Namesake	By : lotusbalm Category: M through R > Mummy, The (All) > Mummy, The (All) Views: 5763 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mummy series and do not make any profit off of this.

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Namesake
Chapter 4
"Pssst. You sleeping?"
Tiri, wide awake, replied into the darkness. "No."
Laxmi gently closed the bedroom door shut and slid into Tiri's bed next to her. "Scoot over Miss Movie Star."
Tiri gave a self-deprecating laugh and slid over. "Don't call me that."
"Why not?"
"Because it's vapid and pretentious."
"Wow. If I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want to do the movie."
Tiri struggled with her thoughts. "It's not that I don't want to. I just…feel weird about it. I mean, I didn't even try out for the role. It was just handed to me."
Laxmi snorted quite unbecomingly. "The role is based on your great grandma Evelyn O'Connell. The woman who you are the spitting image of. You were made for the role."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Tiri sighed. "Did you see my parents? They were talking—to each other."
"Yeah, that was a bit of weirdness, wasn't it?"
"They're really happy for me," Tiri said, her voice laced with a coaxing quality, as if she were trying to talk herself into it because of the pros. "They want this for me so much."
"But do you want it for you?"
Tiri was silent for a long pause. "I don't know what I want," she finally admitted, her voice filled with something to belie that it extended beyond just the movie role.
"Well," Laxmi stated sagely, "Seems to me that the only way to figure out whether or not you want something is to try it out and take it from there. There's that saying 'All roads lead to Rome.' Maybe taking this role is a stepping stone to lead you toward where you're supposed to be."
Tiri smiled into her blankets. "My Rome is looking a lot like Egypt."
Cairo, Egypt
Within a whirlwind of only a few days after her party, Tiri was stepping foot onto the land that had blessed her family with wealth and adventures. Grandpa Alex navigated them through the hustle and bustle of the busy metropolitan area, teeming with people dressed in western clothing such as they were, and others that were wearing more traditional Arabic clothing. The men in their group all grumbled when Tiri and Laxmi spotted a little shop filled with delicate feminine robes, veils, and belly dancer girl looking outfits, glittering with semi-precious jewels and beads. After the girls were thoroughly satisfied with their purchases, they all headed on towards the residence that they would be staying at.
Grandpa Alex, a thorough connoisseur of Egyptian life, had taken them to what looked like a total dumpy hole in the wall.
"This is where we'll be staying?" Manuel Casablancas asked in disgust.
They were huddled around a lone door in what looked to be a deserted alleyway. The fine, swooping script of some Arabic was garishly tagged on the wall.
"Appearances," Grandpa Alex said cheerily, unlocking the door, "can be deceiving!" He opened the door with a flourish. In they stepped to an expanse of luxury. "I bought this place years ago and renovated the inside. It used to be a seedy nightclub. Now the seediness on the outside is just a façade and the inside is a bit of an oasis for a hot and sandy explorer to tuck into and get some much needed rest."
"Very clever, Alex," said Raul Casablancas, impressed. He stepped into the room and set down his luggage; after regaining their wits about them from the mindboggling unexpected elegance everyone else did the same.
"There's three levels, with two bedrooms each on the two upper floors and one bedroom on the main floor. So have at it!" Grandpa Alex said, walking into the kitchen to stalk the cupboards with fruit, sweetbreads and other goods that he had bought while they were walking through the local markets.
Tiri and Laxmi ended up rooming together on the top floor, with Manuel Casablancas taking the neighboring room on the same floor; Tiri's father and uncle took the two mid-floor bedrooms, and Raul Casablancas took the bedroom on the main floor after Grandpa Alex told everyone that he preferred to keep a vigilant post close to the door anyways, and that, besides, he found the beds much too soft for his aging back and found the stiff futon couch much more to his liking.
After putting their luggage away Tiri and Laxmi tried on their new outfits that they had bought at the little robe shop.
"Are you supposed to wear anything under the robes?" Tiri asked while shifting the hem of her sensible black robes this way and that.
"Not if you want to get lucky," Laxmi replied cheekily while pulling a shimmering piece of cloth over her head and situating it over her chest. Little bells tinkled on her exotic top.
Tiri rolled her eyes, having meant should she still wear pants and a shirt under the robes. A lack of knickers was never in the question. "Well in that case I'd be much more worried about the possibility of getting sand in my bum than getting a lover under my gown," Tiri said, easing on the elaborately bejeweled veil that went with the black gown. She mentally noted that she would indeed wear pants and a shirt under the robes, figuring that at some point the long trailing hems of the robes would get on her nerves while she was climbing stairs to monuments and the like. "And did you get anything that isn't toddler sized? We're going to be traveling through the hot desert with the sun constantly on us."
"Relax, grandma. I got a few robes to go with my half dozen kinky belly dancer outfits. I'm so making you borrow some of these while we're here, Ms. Prim and Proper. You can model them for Manuel," she added breathily, laughing at Tiri's shocked expression.
"You're such a tart," Tiri shot back, her shock melting into a smile.
"I'm not the one modeling belly dancer outfits for a sexy film star across the hall."
"Uh, when have I done that? That'd be never. If anyone is going to do that, it'd be you."
"Well if you don't claim dibs real soon I will!"
"Fine by me," Tiri said with an amused giggle, taking her robes and veil off and then fluffing her hair back into place while looking at her appearance in a mirror hanging on the wall. She pulled her fingers through her fringe, which, because of the natural curl to her hair, was flipping outwards in an imitation of Farrah Fawcett from her Charlie's Angels days. It sprung back into place and she gave up trying to tame it. "There's something a bit off about that man. Earlier I asked him what were some good acting techniques to help me prepare for my role and he said sit ups and squats."
"Ooooh. I like them dim-witted and gorgeous. Dibs!" Laxmi called out while pulling her regular clothes back on as well.
The girls primped in front of the mirror for a minute, fixing their eyeliner and mascara and putting on fresh coats of lip balm. Once they fixed their flight-rumpled selves they stepped out of the room to head towards the kitchen to munch on some of the fruit and baked goods that Grandpa Alex had bought. On their way to the stairs they peered into Manuel Casablancas' room because the door was wide open. Manuel was doing sit ups. 'And no doubt it's squats next after this,' Tiri thought. Manuel was still wearing a false mustache and turban that he had put on to disguise himself from rabid fans. The mustache was slightly misaligned. He looked utterly ridiculous. When he saw them staring at him he flexed a bicep and kissed it, winking at them before getting back to his workout.
Tiri waited until they were halfway down the stairs before she patted Laxmi's shoulder and said, "Yep, he's all yours."
When Tiri and Laxmi reached the kitchen they were greeted by her Uncle Will, Grandpa Alex and Raul Casablancas. The filmmaker had changed into a tropical looking shirt, Bermuda shorts and a fanny pack—very different than the formal attire he wore to her birthday party. At her appraising look, he explained that most film directors dressed badly. "It's all part of the job description," he said half-seriously.
Grandpa Alex passed Tiri and Laxmi bowls of pitted dates and figs drizzled in honey. As they ate, he explained their agenda to them.
"Today I thought we would just take it easy and brush up on our history. The Cairo Museum of Antiquities is something that will probably be of interest to you all because it was one of Tiri's great grandmother's favorite haunts, and it houses most of Egypt's finest pieces of history," he said, winking at Tiri. "How does that sound to you Mr. Casablancas?"
"That sounds wonderful," Raul Casablancas answered, sounding totally charmed.
"Does anyone know when Dad and Manuel will be coming down?" Tiri asked while polishing off her fruit, anxious to get to the museum.
"Oh, Manuel really isn't into this sort of thing. I'll fill him in later. He's doing a bit of acting exercises right now," Raul Casablancas said.
"And Brad and I are going to scope out some of our investments while we're staying around the city," Uncle Will chimed in.
Tiri tried to swallow down the disappointment that she felt.
"Well," Grandpa Alex said briskly. "Guess that leaves us four then. Let the history lesson commence!"
The Cairo Museum of Antiquities was a distinctly regal building of massive proportions. Tiri could barely watch her step as they passed perfectly preserved ancient Egyptian statues guarding the entrance. Grandpa Alex was talking with gusto as he walked along the exhibits with a riveted Raul Casablancas, which is why they didn't notice when Tiri simply stopped in her place and stared at a colossal statue of Ramses II. Laxmi gave the statue a fleeting glance. "Big," was her comment before she moved on to a display of ancient Egyptian jewelry.
It was as Tiri was trying to make sense of why she felt such a strong feeling of déjà vu all of a sudden that she saw him.
He was covered almost entirely in midnight black robes, the only other spot of color on him a dark grey sash cinched around his waist. There was a black scarf around his neck, which she imagined he used to cover his mouth and nose during desert storms, and a black turban on his head. Cascading down from the turban was silky black waves of shoulder length hair, which framed a very handsome face—all bronzed and angled cheek bones. She traced the nice inky black eyebrows and perfectly trimmed mustache and beard with her eyes, noting that he did not at all look ridiculous like Manuel Casablancas…
This man, in fact, looked positively dangerous.
The X of an ammunition belt strapped across his broad chest and the tattooed Arabic symbols on his cheeks and forehead might have had something to do with it.
He was talking with what looked to be a curator of the museum. She couldn't make out what he was saying because he spoke so quietly but she was sure he was speaking Arabic. She could hear a certain lilt and roll of the tongue every few muffled syllables.
Suddenly he paused in his speech and straightened, turning his head to look at—
Her!
Tiri's eyes widened in alarm and she looked away, trying to seem interested in an ancient papyrus canoe that at one time had floated down the Nile. Her cheeks were burning in mortification because he had caught her staring.
She felt his gaze burning into her and she blushed even harder. She was starting to feel a little underdressed in her cotton camisole, skinny jeans and ballet flats—certainly she looked silly to this imposing man.
She discreetly looked up to see if he had lost interest and had gone back to his conversation—but no, he was still staring! His dark brown, almost black, eyes bore into her. Something about his expression made a shiver of heat roll down her spine and settle low into her belly. Goosebumps rose to her flesh.
All Tiri knew was that she had let herself get trapped into his gaze this time, and couldn't for the life of her look away.
'Protector of the City of the Dead' she transcribed from the Arabic tattoos on his face.
She felt a tug on her arm. Laxmi was leading her to catch up with Grandpa Alex and Raul Casablancas. Tiri craned her neck so that she could still look at the dark warrior. His gaze never wavered. They stared at each other until a sharp turn into another room blocked them from one another.
'A Medjai," she thought, dazed; her heart racing.
The feeling that she was being watched never completely left her the whole time she was at the Cairo Museum of Antiquities.

A/N: Hmmm, who could that have been? Hehe. Please R&R! :D
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Namesake