Chapter Text
Would you kneel before a cross, if the one plastered to it was a familiar face?
Would you pray to a friend?
A family member?
A colleague?
I know you wouldn't. But would you pray to a lover, one of such beauty that the flowers around them shine like the stars above? Would you pray to one who's hand- smooth as silk- touched yours freely, and you touched theirs, the fear of retribution remaining distant? Would you pray to a lover who takes you as you are, not as a follower, but as an individual, who's heart yearns for their sweet embrace? Would you pray, not as a whore, or an idolater, but as much of a god in their eyes as they are in yours?
Heket's mind found itself plagued with these thoughts, day by day, hour after minute after second. While it was far from an intrusive thought, nor was it repetitious to the point of absurdity, it had a way of creeping up on her, digging into her skin like the mushrooms that dot her realm. She holds a firm grasp over her emotions, her dignity, her home, her children; but there was one among her flock that had a way of grabbing her like no other did, and such a thought haunted her, beyond anything she had felt prior. These feelings were wholeheartedly accepted by that one- of course, they'd spoken about this time and time again- but the feeling never shook from her. This is the creature that broke her. So fragile, so very fragile... and, yet, Heket felt as though nothing could harm this subject. There was a flair about her Lover that outclassed even her own, a fire within that burned brighter than any she could have caused, one that spoke to her. 'I am here, Heket. I trust you. Do you trust me?'
Of course, she trusted her follower. Of course, she'd pray to her follower, just as She prays in return. And, of course, it was a silly thing, this; a bishop, a lord over the land, a god in every respectable right, falling head over heels for something so simple. It was funny to her, in a way that she wouldn't laugh at. Hell, if anyone were to bring up her weakness, she wouldn't hesitate to show them how 'weak' she is. They are here for her, after all; they're here to serve her, worship her, devote their entire lives to her in return for their safety, and a satiated stomach. But for her Lover, Heket would give anything and more just to keep her happy. Her brothers do not know of this lapse in strength, much to her delight, and Shamura- the smartest of them- decided that it's best not to start an incident, like the one that happened with The Fifth. It was paranoia that drew this decision, though the truth behind such a reaction is more-or-less lost.
Heket is no stranger to the important things, either. With with the rise of that wretched Lamb, sowing the seeds of carnage within the Old Faith's land, she knew that the road ahead would be littered with potholes. She wouldn't typically have a problem with most of this mess, seeing as how Leshy is capable of dealing with his own issues, but their bearing the Red Crown drove some paranoia within her. Her followers could see this, as well, and began to question the extent of the security she could offer to her people. Strong though she may be, communication was not one of her strengths. Barring the massive scar across her throat, the simple act of handling dissenters usually came in the form of a sharp tongue, either spitting rapid-fire insults at them, or striking them with such a fury that it may as well sever their spine. Effective, yes, but being rude and killing your own followers doesn't exactly sit with some people. Some people hated it. Some loved it.
Her Lover was a fan, because Heket means well, despite her actions. This is what enabled her.
One could argue that She had a negative impact on Heket, and this may be true, but neither of them were wise enough to see it. One had been devoted to a god her entire life, while the other was devoted to upholding a quota, denying herself any personal contact beyond that of her found family. When Heket and her Lover joined hands, they held on as though their lives depended on it; despite Heket's innate ability to sate hunger, they were both starved. It was a relationship built on structure, predetermined by their needs and driven forth by their wants. They were fools, but they needed this, more than their words could describe. And it felt good.
Some nights, Heket would find herself parting from her chambers, venturing out into the wilderness in search of answers to her most burning questions, ones that not even Shamura could offer an answer to. While the answers she sought would rarely come, the travel did well in clearing her mind. Sometimes, she'd stop to study mushroom formations. Others, she'd sunbathe on a warm rock. And, she would- occasionally- visit a warm spring relatively close by, where she would sit, and meditate, four eyes focusing in on herself, rather than the vast waters that surrounded her. It was a sacred place, her own place, undisturbed by the masses that populate Anura.
And, some night, she decided to bring her most trusted follower to this spring, to join her in recovering from a day's worth of work and stress. A gentle hand cupped her follower as She sat idly, legs kicking as they soaked in the water, too deep for her, but just deep enough for the bishop. Had it been any other follower intruding on Heket's privacy, they'd be drowned in the very pool she sat in, but here they are, letting the worries of the world drift away with the slow-rolling tide. A smile paints her lover's lips, as she offers a soft hum, one that echoes through the bishop's ears, and into the night sky. This moment- she felt- could last for an eternity.
But eternity's a long time, isn't it?
Nothing lasts forever, Heket.