Chapter Text
Year: 2247 BCE.
You only ever spoke to Khonshu at night, when the moon shone over the plane of Earth where you spent your days, rather than on the celestial plane with the rest of the gods. But this was where you were meant to be - among the people, learning the stories of the world and weaving your own for them, to be spread and rewritten and turned into new stories of their own.
He had arrived at your meeting spot first, this time - a picturesque place near the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, where the warm sea wind blew your hair into your face, but the attendants of the temple knew you well, and prepared the table with due care.
He sat in his human form, in undyed robes of shocking white and jewelry of gold - a stark contrast to the dyed, patterned cloth you wore on your sheath dress and cape - woven by your most skilled acolytes as offerings at your temple. Only the finest for you - the rest went to your priests and priestesses, the unique patterns spanning the fabric denoting their status as your devotees.
But Khonshu had never been one for all that, preferring the white simplicity of moonstone and gold, even for his avatar’s wardrobe.
He didn't look at you as you approached the balcony, glowing white eyes instead gazing out at the way the moon's light rippled over the waves of the sea, flashing like pale candlelight in the distance. Khonshu, aloof as ever, even after you've gotten yourself in quite the pickle with the rest of the Ennead.
This might be the last time you ever spoke to him, and he was intent to ignore you.
"Khonshu." You smiled softly, ignoring the cold dread in your core, sitting down on the lounge-chair opposite him, too unnerved to lay back and relax like you normally would. "Thank you for meeting with me." You studied his expression carefully for hints of how he’s feeling - how he’s dealing with the threat of you being turned to stone. It was clearly tense - frowning out at the empty space before you, hands clenched at his sides, muscles taut with unacknowledged tension. "I expect that any day now I'll be summoned by the others and imprisoned for my recent heroism. I was hoping you could render your assistance."
You should have known he would treat this with such cold anger. He didn’t know how to process these feelings any other way.
"You were well within your rights to protect your priestesses." He spoke for the first time that night, not mentioning the fact that you'd used your bronze wings to shield them from perilous fire, revealing yourself to the crowd of hundreds trying to smother the blaze. "But you have no reason to find me of all the gods - I hold little sway in such judgments. If you're seeking favors, go to Osiris or your Mother."
"I'm not seeking the council's favor. I'm seeking the help of a friend." You smiled sadly, studying the details that made him who he was, hiding underneath the skin of this avatar was so much more. After all, you wouldn’t remember him soon - but maybe if you tried hard enough, you could carry something with you, however small. Even if it’s just love for the moon. "I have a plan, but I can't execute it alone. Hathor has already agreed to aid me."
"Your plans are sentimental and foolish, like the stories you weave on your loom." He bit out roughly and shook his head, but didn't move from his spot.
"And yet you partake in them both all the same." You laughed out loud at that, trying to savor the moments you had with him while you could, longing and regret bubbling to the surface all at once, painful and sharp and empty, a hollow, clawing, collapsing feeling centered in your heart.
You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.
Just like a god to assume that you had eternity to play out your feelings. That you could take your time and find the right moment, and then be happy for the rest of your days.
But this wasn’t one of the romances you wove into being. You’d always given them happy, or at least bittersweet endings.
And you would never get the chance to do anything, now.
He remained clueless to your inner turmoil, how you felt like your life was ending - and answered with a harrumph and a furrow of his brows, still not looking at you. "You do nothing but drag me into trouble."
The words stung, even though you knew how he exaggerated his contempt.
"This will be the last time." You pressed your lips into a thin line, once again looking out to sea, letting the bracing wind blow your hair out of its place without care, the taste of salt strong on your tongue. "I promise. After this you'll be rid of me."
…"What do you propose?" His voice was strained and thin, uncharacteristic of him.
This would be hard on him, what you were asking of him. But it was better than the alternative.
"I want to become human. To become a part of the story they make."
"Absolutely not!" His eyes shot to you all at once, gleaming white as he stood up and the wind around you grew into a gale, the curtains flapping angrily and loud with sharp snaps under his pressure.
"I'll reincarnate! Experience hundreds of beautiful, mortal lives!" You shouted over the noise of the wind, the only way you could even hope to be heard. "It's better than being turned to stone for eternity!"
"But you will die." He hissed, and the wind died all at once, leaving the world unnaturally still in a pocket of dead air, silent. "Eventually, your godly essence will run out, you will fail to be reborn, and you will die for the last time. And I will not see you rotting in the Duat at the end of it!"
"Please," Was all you could manage, stinging tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, and you curled your hands into fists, nails biting into your skin in a futile effort to override one kind of pain with another. "I can't turn into stone. I can't be frozen like that."
"I will not kill you." He said, eyebrows low, upper lip curling in something akin to disgust - an air of dreadful finality to his words.
And he disappeared before you got the chance to ask for more, turning to dust, floating in the moonlight.
The wind picked up, carrying sun-warmed air out to the sea.
And you collapsed to the floor, wails of anguish filling the night air until there was no more inside you to give.
---
"We have no other option but to confine you to stone." Osiris said, voice booming through his avatar's body, sending your immortal heart racing to compensate, urging you to fight, to escape, to do something to prevent this, but you'd already plead as desperately as you could, the tears streaming down your face a pathetic display of panic unfitting someone of your status, but you couldn't help it, the fear had permeated every cell in your body, soaking through your bloodstream like thick, icy syrup - vibrating the way harp strings broke.
You were going to be trapped like that. This was it.
"Wait." A deep voice stilled the room, and everyone's gaze turned to the moon god's avatar, still given a seat on the council, for now. He had been silent the whole day, watching you and your mother try and fail to excuse your actions. "If she cares about the humans so dearly… perhaps her punishment could be more fitting to the crime."
You looked at him, eyes wide with shock, and then, as realization dawned on you, you forced your face into schooled, fearful resignation rather than a sly smile.
Between Anubis, Hathor, and Khonshu, it was proposed and argued for you to be cursed to mortal form.
And so that day the Goddess of Stories and Weaving - Patron of Artisans and Dreamers, Protector of Free Spirits, and Daughter of the Two Fates, died.
…And the first of many in a line of human forms was born.