sekhmet_mrytamn: (khepera)
The Hippo Hunt

I found my love by the secret canal, feet dangling down in the water
He had made a hushed cell in the thicket for worship
to delicate this day, to holy elevation of the flesh.

He brings to light that which is hidden, breast and thigh go bare, go bare.
Now, raised on high toward his altar, exalted,
A tall man is more than his shoulders. *


The sun had just crept over the horizon when Neb Tjeti left the enclosure of his private estate with his retinue. He was a man who always rose before first light. In his duties as First Prophet of Imen in the ancient city of Waset, in the far south of the Red Land, great Temple City of Upper Kemet, Tjeti rose many mornings to serve in the naos of his Father, Imen, the Unseen. There he washed and cared for the statue of the Netjer, caressed the warm stone with oils and applied kohl to the Netjer's eyes, dressed Him in fine linens, woven by the priests and noble women of the temple of Isut-ipet. He left fragrant flowers and wine, sweet fruits and good bread, all for the use of the divinity within the sacred shrine. This duty he performed in the morning, and in the evening he repeated his purifications, himself in a state of purity.

But not even a High Priest in the service of the King of the Netjerw served all the time, and this morning was for Tjeti's pleasure. With a few of his fellow priests, all young and strapping nobles, plus two of Medjay elite, and their servants, punters and bearers, Tjeti made his way to the shores of the Hap, where hunting skiffs waited. The men were boisterous, full of the spirits of men that are on their way to prove themselves and to court danger. Today they hunted on the blue waters of the Hap (blue this far south where the fertile band of land was thin and the desert creeps close to that narrow strip of life giving mud), astride their skiffs, like Cretan bull riders balancing on their beasts. Tjeti stood tall, in just a flashing white kilt and loincloth, his favorite harpoon in hand while his servant, Tepi, punted the skiff not into the fast waters but to a slow and marshy inlet. Read more... )




Muse: Sekhmet Merytamun
Fandom: Original Character / ' En Intw Djerw Henet' / Highlander
Word Count: 2728 (not including poem)

*From "New Kingdom Love Songs" Translated by John Foster
Special Thanks to the Mun of Tjeti Amunhotep (Tjeti Priest) on Pan Historia
sekhmet_mrytamn: (candlelight)
Queen Sekhmet had never been comfortable with a fuss being made over herself - unless it suited the purpose of strenthening the throne, and the ambitions that she held for her Husband, Tjeti. She eyed the assembled people in the banqueting hall, indeed, the villagers had made every attempt to put out their best efforts, to make their royal visitor comfortable.

KhenumRa’s generosity was seemingly boundless. That they were at war had little effect on the level of hospitality that he had been able to bestow for her.

"Whatever is mine, here, is Yours, " he had offered, and she would take it gratefully. KhenumRa’s estate was attached to seemingly endless gardens, now lit with dim lanterns as the odd nobleman and noblewoman strolled them lazily. Soft breezes blew over the well manicured hedges and manicured patches of cornflowers and other fragrant foliage. The wind still carried the hot breath of the desert upon it into the torchlit corridors that were lined with motionless guards. Tonight there would be much talk about the impending war with Rome. Foreign delegations of Kemet’s allies, and only the most trusted of officials that had readily come to the aid of Per’aa were admitted to the banquet. The low mumur of their chatter hung in the fragrant air of the chamber.
Read more... )


Muse: Sekhmet Meritamun
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 700

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