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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.

Chapter List
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Namesake
Chapter 5
That night Tiri dreamt...
She felt the resistance give way as her feet made a path through countless grains of sand. There were bangles made of solid gold around her wrists and gold bands twined around her biceps. An anklet with little gold disks jangled as she trekked along. On she walked for hours it seemed, not encountering anything but the sand beneath her feet and the bright, burning sun overhead.
She stopped when she came to an earthenware cup filled with water.
Something told her that it was no ordinary cup, and that, despite the fact that the sun was blazing down upon her and this object, the water inside would remain cool and refreshing. She excitedly ran to the cup, intent to quench her hot, dry throat-but in her haste she accidentally knocked it over, spilling its precious contents into the scorching sand.
The water absorbed into the unforgiving earth with a hiss. Tiri cried out in frustration and beat the sand with her fists, sending little grains to fly into the air before landing harmlessly back down to the earth and onto her. However—when the grains of sand landed they suddenly burst into fat water droplets, splashing her skin.
Tiri straightened up and gave a gasp of surprise.
There now stood a woman where the cup of water once was. She had pin-straight black tresses, which were interwoven with shimmering droplet-shaped diamonds, and wore a golden sheath dress. She was tall, much taller than a mortal, with impeccable skin of a gleaming olive color. Her beautiful dark eyes held an air of sweetness about them that was mirrored in her actions. She held out the earthenware cup to Tiri. It was again brimming with fresh cool water.
Tiri made a choked sound, her throat too scorched and dusty to thank the Goddess properly, before she took the cup in between shaking hands and drank deeply. The water was sweet and so achingly satisfying. When she was finished she beamed up at her savior, hugging the tall Goddess around her middle. She smiled and enveloped Tiri in a protective embrace before gently setting her back down, brushing her hand along Tiri's throat. She gave Tiri a meaningful look. Tiri felt something comfortably heavy settle around her throat and looked down to see Nefertiri's Usekh collar.
She looked back up to the Goddess Isis to question her meaning but she was gone. It was at this moment that Tiri woke up from her dream.
Tiri's hand automatically went to her throat, and she was surprised to feel the cool metal of Nefertiri's necklace there. She hadn't put it back on since the night of her party. Well, at least she didn't think she did. 'Did I take it out and put it on before I fell asleep last night?' she thought. Her head was still a little fuzzy from sleep. 'Had to have done that,' she rationalized.
She ran her fingers through her hair, her brow creasing in confusion when she encountered something soft and delicate. A perfect white lotus fell out of her hair and into her grasp.
This…she could not explain. She peered around the room, noticing that Laxmi was still fast asleep next to her in bed. The window was wide open, the cotton curtain floating in a gentle breeze.
Maybe Laxmi had put the necklace on her and the flower in her hair as a practical joke? But that didn't make sense because Laxmi had fallen asleep before her. Tiri had tossed and turned (a lot longer than she would like to admit) thinking of the mysterious Medjai warrior before sleep had finally overtaken her. Laxmi had long since fallen into a gentle rhythm of sleep by the time Tiri had found rest.
'Grandpa Alex must have done it as a sweet gesture,' she thought.
She smiled and placed the lotus back into her hair and went down stairs. Her nose led her to a sweet cooking smell in the kitchen where she knew her grandfather would be. He had always been an early riser.
"Good morning Grandpa," Tiri said cheerfully.
Grandpa Alex turned to her with a bright smile, pulling out raisin studded cinnamon bread from the oven. "Good morning Tiri. You're wearing the necklace again I see. Oh and why that's a gorgeous flower. Where did you get it?"
"Oh like you don't know," she teased.
Her grandfather started slicing the loaf of warmed sweet bread, shaking his head in the negative. "No, I must have missed seeing you buy it at the market?"
Tiri felt her heart rate pick up. Her grandfather had no clue either… And it couldn't have been her father and uncle because they had never come home last night, no doubt shacking up for the night with some of their "investments." That left only Raul and Manuel Casablancas-but she thought either option was highly doubtful. Her mind strayed to the opened window in her room…
"Yeah, Grandpa. I guess you did miss it. I bought it at a flower stall near the shop where Laxmi and I got the robes," she found herself saying.
"You have exquisite taste, my dear girl," he said, handing her a slice of sweetbread.
'Someone does,' Tiri thought. 'But it's not me.'

As everyone else had gotten up they all remarked about the beautiful flower Tiri had put into her hair—but none gave any indication that they had been the one to come into her room at night and put it there.
Her father and uncle came strolling in around noon. Both had perfectly finessed their jet black hair. The only indication that gave them away to being out all night was the scruffy stubble on their cheeks and jaws. By this time everyone else had been up for hours and irritated about the fact that their plans to visit the pyramids at Giza had been interrupted. The two men came into the house to a room full of death glares.
"I see we've all been stewing around for a while," her uncle hedged.
Tiri's father cut in smoothly. "So we were out on a few business matters with some associates of ours and you will never guess who we ran into." He didn't give anyone enough time to answer him with a snippy remark. "We just so happened to have met Dr. Terence Bey III." His eyes widened for a moment for dramatic emphasis while he focused in on Raul Casablancas. "You know…the great grandson of the curator in our stories who operated the Cairo Museum of Antiquities and who also so heroically gave his own life while that terror of a mummy was running amok? Apparently Dr. Bey III has taken in his family footsteps and is the current curator of the museum. He had noticed that you all had been into the museum yesterday and would absolutely love to meet you. He invited us to a party over at his estate tonight. Many Egyptologists will be there."
Raul Casablancas' face had gradually turned into a beam of anticipation. "Why, what a wonderful turn of events! I'm sure he will have a lot of background information to fill us in with on Egypt and his great grandfather! I'd love to go! What do you say, Alex? Do you think that we can put off the pyramids until tomorrow?"
Grandpa Alex assessed Tiri and Laxmi's expressions. Laxmi looked blasé about the whole thing, not caring one way or the other while Tiri gave a nod of encouragement.
"Sure, Raul, it sounds like a plan," Grandpa Alex said. "I haven't gotten the chance to meet the new curator myself so this should be an enjoyable evening."
Tiri remembered from the stories her grandfather told her that, besides tending to his curator job, Dr. Terence Bey had also been in alliance with the Medjai. If Dr. Terence Bey III really had followed in his family's footsteps then he would more than likely be in alliance with the Medjai as well.
She thought back to yesterday and the dark Medjai warrior with the heated gaze. For the life of her she didn't know why but she was infinitely curious about him. Grandpa Alex's stories about the Medjai and his good friend Ardeth Bay had always fascinated her, but actually having met one was a whole new experience and now she was obsessed with finding out more about him. (And, if she was honest with herself, she would admit to the fact that she also secretly hoped that the handsome Medjai warrior would for some reason be lurking around Dr. Bey III's mansion tonight.)
"Great!" her father exclaimed. "Now this will be a rather formal affair so it'll be dinner jackets for the men and evening gowns for the ladies."
"Did everyone pack their emergency formal attire?" her Uncle Will asked in a voice so grave that it was comical.
If there was one thing that Tiri and her Great Grandmother Evie had in common—it was their inability to pack lightly. She had a whole trunk devoted to vintage lovelies that used to belong to her Great Grandma Evie and her Grandma Lin. It also turned out that the Casablancas men along with Tiri's father, uncle, and grandpa were always prepared for formal events as well. Tiri smiled at the 007-ness of it all…
They arrived at Dr. Bey III's mansion at half past seven. He greeted them at the door himself. Tiri could see why he and her dad and uncle got on so well the night before. They were all just the same. Dashing George Clooney good looks, impeccably dressed, and had more money to throw around than they knew what to do with. He kissed her and Laxmi's hands in greeting, his gaze lingering on Tiri's necklace.
"Good to have you, good to have you! Do come in everyone! There's a rather heated debate that's just started about who was the greatest pharaoh of them all. My vote is with Ramses II," he said as an aside while ushering them in.
They walked into a massive formal living area as richly furnished in Egyptian relics as the Cairo Museum of Antiquities itself. The place was buzzing with scholars and archeologists alike. Some Tiri could tell more resembled Indiana Jones during their field hours, like her Grandpa Alex, while others were more the bespectacled bookish types with soft hands. The room was also teeming with all of the powerful men's beautiful consorts.
Dr. Bey III introduced them to the room at large. "Everyone, attention please! We are honored with the presence of Dr. Alexander O'Connell himself tonight, along with his lovely family, and a few special friends of his. Please help make them feel welcome."
Immediately a dozen or so intellectuals were upon them, rabid for her grandfather's opinion on their debate. Tiri found it rather funny. Here in this circle of people her grandfather was the celebrity, while the famous director Raul Casablancas and his film star son had to keep telling people over and over again what they did. Raul Casablancas she could tell was refreshed by the anonymity, using his status as a wallflower to absorb all of the information in and flatter the scholars by endlessly asking questions about what they knew about ancient Egyptian history—which was undoubtedly a lot. However, his son was grasping at straws, hitting on the exotic women by asking them if they knew who he was. When they said they didn't he would have to explain his status as a celebrity to them, which to Tiri made him seem like a bit of a prat, but it didn't seem to put the women off. It had to be his good looks.
Laxmi was doing well off herself, Tiri noticed with a grin, hedging to bet that by the time that they left Egypt the raven-haired vixen would leave an exorbitant amount of scholars heartbroken.
Tiri kept finding that she herself would peer into the crowd over and over again, looking for the man with the Arabic tattoos on his face while she listened to the intelligent conversation taking precedence around her. When she realized what she was doing, she asked the person nearest to her where the restroom was. She needed to get a hold of herself.
She took a few cleansing breaths while in the bathroom, trying to vanish the images of her father shamelessly flirting with women only a third of his age, and the images of the Casablancas men entirely—because they were a symbol of her not taking control of her own life and voicing what she really wanted. She left the bathroom when it didn't work and aimlessly wandered the halls of Dr. Bey III's lavish home.
A grand atrium-style library took her fancy when she was passing by, so she entered it. She glanced up at the beautiful glass roof before she playfully spun around and decided to find a tome in the direction of which she was facing when she stopped. Her stop overlooked a portion of the library with a bay window that was at least three times her height. She walked over and took in the breathtaking view overlooking the city. The sky was getting dusky and tiny twinkling lights throughout the city were flickering on. She closed her eyes and let the light breeze from an opened window hit her face before she turned her attention to the dusty texts surrounding her. She closed her eyes and blindly pointed until she came upon a book.
It was written in ancient Egyptian, so it was pointless for her to try to understand it's meaning, but she did so love looking at the hieroglyphs. She flipped through the pages, getting absorbed in the intricate characters.
"Just like an O'Connell to go looking for danger."
Tiri just about leapt out of her skin, whirling around to face the intruder who had interrupted the silence. She already knew without looking that it was the dark warrior from yesterday. The rich lilt of his voice had given him away. Tiri felt her pulse race.
"It's just a book," she said, taking in his appearance. He was leaning against a portion of the opened bay window. Without the turban today, he was dressed in midnight black robes embroidered with an elegant tapestry of silver Arabic script. He looked very, very good, and with every step nearer he took to her the silver on his robes shimmered.
Tiri found herself slowly backing up into the bookcase behind her, with the Medjai warrior slowly stalking towards her. His dark eyes seared into hers when he said, "You of all people should know that harm can indeed come from reading from a book, Tiri."
"How do you know my name?" Tiri asked defiantly, getting the feeling that he was making fun of her and her family. "Do I know you?"
He laughed. The sound was deep and husky. She liked it despite the fact that she was starting to find the man a bit insufferable now that he was talking to her.
He shrugged. "I'm a friend of the family."
"Care to elaborate?" she asked, arching a brow.
A small, devilish smile quirked his lips, as if he found this situation entirely too fun. "You can call me Medjai."
She let out a scoff. "Fine, Medjai. Do please go about your business and let me go about mine. I was reading a book and you interrupted me."
He pretended like he didn't hear her. "So you can read ancient Egyptian?"
Tiri felt her cheeks heat up. "Well, no. But that's not the point."
"You should learn it," he said, the spark of amusement still there. "Knowing the type of trouble your family gets into, it might be beneficial to you."
Tiri gave him a dark look. She told him in Arabic that if he didn't leave her alone she was going to shove the Egyptian tome up a certain part of his anatomy.
Again, he ignored her rudeness. "So what other languages do you speak besides Arabic and English?" this time he asked in his mother tongue.
Taken off guard, she found herself answering him without ire in English. "Italian, French, Spanish, Mandarin and Chinese."
"That is a lot. Tell me, why is it that you have taken it upon yourself to learn so many languages?" He had guided the tome out of her hand, putting it back in its place on the bookshelf. He kept his hand on the bookshelf, effectively pinning her in against the wall with one arm.
She cleared her throat. "Um, well, I go back and forth between my Mum and Dad's every summer, and mostly I get bored so I made a game where every summer I start to learn a new language." When she stopped talking he nodded his head as if to say 'go on.' "…I've always known English and French because of my parents, and I took Italian and Spanish in school. My Grandma Lin helped me learn Mandarin and Chinese before she passed away."
"And who helped you learn Arabic?"
"My best friend's mum, Jhumpa. She's Indian, but her husband was Egyptian and she adopted the language as her own. Laxmi doesn't speak it fluently. She was never very interested by it much but I always thought it was pretty."
"You have a gift," he concluded.
Tiri was taken aback by his assessment. "No," she brushed off. "Just have too much time on my hands."
"Time is never wasted if you use it to learn something new. Why have you not learned ancient Egyptian? Your grandfather has known it since he was a little boy."
"My father expressly forbids my grandfather from teaching it to me. He says it's pointless to learn a dead language."
"I see," he said, staring at her. "So it is not a lack of interest on your part, I presume? If someone were willing to teach you ancient Egyptian, you would rise to the occasion?"
"Yes," Tiri stated breathlessly, staring back. She wondered how he had so fluidly cracked her open and made her confess her inner world.
"You know the ancient Egyptians believed that at the beginning of time a lotus flower grew out of the water and bloomed, and in that blossom was the sun-god, Ra." His eyes flickered to her hair before his gaze swept back to hers. He gently brushed the flower in her hair, trailing his fingers down along her hairline, her jaw line, her neck and then her collarbone. His touch was like a live-wire to her senses. So familiar… When his fingertips trailed along her necklace he spoke again. "And this is the necklace of Princess Nefertiri. She was a priestess of Isis. The most powerful and protective Goddess... You kept them on."
Tiri's eyes fluttered open. She hadn't realized that she had closed them. She made the connection between what he was doing and what he was saying. Her eyes widened in shock. "It was you who came into my room last night! It was you who put the flower and necklace on me!"
The Medjai warrior chuckled, closing the gap between their bodies. He slid a hand into her long caramel colored hair, fisting it. Tiri gasped. "What are you do-" He lent his head down and gently kissed her, clutching the fabric of her gold dress at her hip, bringing her body against him with an ease that excited her and scared her at the same time. His tongue slid against the seam of her lips, begging her for entrance, and she found herself giving in to him willingly. He moaned softly and deepened the kiss, suddenly kissing her with an uncontrolled passion.
"Tiri…" he moaned, pressing her more firmly into the bookshelf, slanting his head so he could receive her mouth more fully. His taste was dark and stormy with passion. So heady. She was drowning in him, and coming up for air was out of the question. She kissed him back just as ardently, just as roughly, and he sucked in a breath, thrilled with the shift of power-play. When she playfully nipped his bottom lip he exhaled a shaky breath through his nose and pulled apart from her lips, staring at her with lust-darkened eyes. He clenched her hips with both hands this time, sliding her up the wall. Her dress bunched up around her waist and his body fell in between her thighs. He kissed her again with urgency.
Her body was responding to his so naturally. The hard little peaks of her nipples were aching with need against the hard planes of his chest. She moaned into his mouth, enflaming him with her pleasured response.
Suddenly she heard her name being called—and it wasn't by the man who had her in a compromising position against the wall. It was her grandfather. She stiffened. The Medjai warrior heard him too because he groaned and released her, giving her one last chaste kiss on the lips, unable to help himself. She straightened her dress then looked up to see where the Medjai warrior would go—but he had already vanished, the creak of the window the only sign of where he had gone.
"There you are Tiri," Grandpa Alex said. "I thought I'd lost you."
"No, Grandpa," Tiri said, trying to sound as collected as possible. "Just doing a bit of exploring."
Her grandfather smiled. "You are definitely an O'Connell."

A/N: …Teehee :D Please R&R :)
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Namesake