Chapter Text
Most people are surprised to learn that you are a habitual early riser, but years of being roused out of bed for daily sunrise prayers have resulted in a habit that’s hard to break, even now.
You watch from the open-air deck, two cups of beer poured from the bottle in the mini-fridge and a small plate of fruit on the tiny patio table, as Ra begins His daily flight across the darkened sky. The sea is restless in the predawn hours, a warm breeze stirring up the crystalline surface; water splashes up every so often to soak the planks closest to the edge of the deck. None of this deters you from spreading out one of the towels plucked from the nearby lounger and kneeling down on it, pressing your forehead down to the wood.
Even when the only place you hear your cousin’s melodic intonations is in your own head, and you need to rely on long-buried memory to conjure up the smell of fragrant incense and oils rather than the brine of the ocean, you still murmur the same prayers you recited as prince, and then as pharaoh, in a language no longer used in this world. The surroundings are vastly different—an empire of salt water and sand and palm trees all around you, not the grand temples of your beloved Kemet or the neatly manicured garden of your current home—but the spirit of the morning ritual remains the same.
You pray to the gods that you once represented; now, in your third try at living a life, you are merely one mortal among many, with no predetermined destiny to adhere to. You wonder if the gods can still hear you, if they even care to listen to your prayers. But, just in case, you add a few extra sentences to the standard hymns you memorized in your first lifetime; protective, loving ones for those closest to your heart. That’s your business and no one else’s.
When you rise to your feet, the sea has calmed down slightly, accepting Ra’s inevitable rise in somewhat graceful surrender. The brightly colored fish gather around the reefs in the distance, starting their day just as you are, so you stand to watch them and enjoy the view. This makeshift temple is simple, but beautiful; your heart feels lighter, an unnoticed burden removed from your shoulders when you feel the sun shining down on you. Light enough that the simple act of returning inside to your temporary home is akin to soaring through the air as Horus-the-falcon does.
The room is dark, so it takes your eyes a moment to adjust before you focus on the bed: an island of white sheets and fluffy comforters, complete with a sleeping dragon guarding its precious treasures. Your lover—now your husband, in the eyes of your friends-turned-family and in the eyes of the law. He gets so little rest as it is, so you are careful as you creep back into the bedroom, choosing to leave the sliding door slightly open and allow the sound of the rolling waves to follow you inside rather than slam it too hard and wake him up.
He prefers to sleep clothed, even after a night of activities that do not involve clothing, so when you slide back into the welcoming warmth of the bed, it’s the soft cotton of his dark blue pajama set that your hands meet, that you inhale the scent from—the floral laundry detergent from back home, along with the sandalwood soap stocked in the bathroom by the hotel staff. You wonder, briefly, if you’d be able to buy several bottles to bring home with you.
Your restlessness has not woken him up, so you take the rare opportunity to study the man you’ve chosen to spend this mortal existence with. Eyes closed, hiding the sharp blue that has challenged you and confounded you from day one. The perpetual shadows under his eyes, a product of too many hours spent awake and staring at screens. His familiar brown hair, cut shorter now than in his teenage youth, but still dangling over his eyes. You brush it all out of the way fondly with feather-light fingers and continue tracing a line down his face. The sloping line of his nose, the striking cheekbones, the lips you know better now than your own.
You have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, to taste his skin and prove that this isn’t just another figment of your imagination. That you can keep him and this life, even so many years after your rebirth.
“It’s rude to wake someone up so early,” he whispers when your soft kisses finally reach his mouth. Sleepy blue eyes focus on you when you pull back from him.
“Get used to it,” you tell him, the sting lessened by your broad smile that you can’t hold back. Like he hasn’t had years to enjoy being woken up by kisses! Like you didn’t wake him up exactly like this on his very first morning in Aaru! The delights of those weeks spent together, free to indulge in any and all of your combined romantic whims, are a memory you’ll never forget, not even if Zorc himself rose from his ancient grave again.
You kiss your husband once more in an effort to remind him of not only those sun-streaked mornings in the royal palace, but all the days and nights since. “No one ever believes me when I say that I’m the morning person in this relationship. They all think it’s you.”
He snorts, an undignified sound made beautiful as he burrows back into the covers, bringing you closer with him. “Just because you think you’re the son of the sun god doesn’t mean I need to wake up at dawn when I don’t have to.” His words are slurred and his eyes are slipping closed again despite his best efforts, waging a senseless war against the allure of sleep. But why bother fighting it? It was always the plan to enter the land of marital bliss by doing absolutely nothing but savor each other’s company in a way you haven’t been able to since your rebirth. Hence the secluded getaway, the oceanfront bungalow, and the complete lack of alarms and reminders set on your fancy phones.
With some gentle encouragement, mainly in the form of soft murmurs and the occasional kiss, Seto slips back into the world of his dreams. With the sun rising high, you don’t feel like joining him there, but it’s no hardship to stay in this comfortable bed, to stay awake and listen to him breathe along with the swell of the ocean all around you. To live in this waking dream beside him, a paradise of your own making.