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Mar. 12th, 2009 08:07 am
mehet_weret: (Mortal: Shy/ sad)
Because she has to. After this.

Ellen had not even returned to her home the home she had shared, fully and of her free will with Heru in Monterey. She went to the first hotel that caught her eye, registered with a fake name and paid in cash she just wanted to get lost, invisible.

The first thing she did when she got to the room was text... Peter, or Paul, she wasn't certain which of the two afterwards.

Heru... took the spell and restored Set. The boy was hurt, but could leave on his own. I am sorry.

Then she turned off her phone. She couldn't ... right now, she could talk with them, couldn't face them, the weight of failure, of allowing two unstable at best; or insane, but she still shied away from using that word about Heru gods to be out at large, uncontainable. It was her fault.

And she wept with it.

And she wept with the hurt of Heru's betrayal, when she had sought nothing for herself and all for him.

And she wept with helplessness.

The cover, the veil, for who she was, a part of her recognized, cast as a limited mortal as she was now, wouldn't hold if a full god sought her. She truly doubted one of them would. She didn't care right then.

She curled on the strange bed and cried. In time, she slept, though that didn't truly bring any relief, memories from a distant, merciless past haunting her dreams.
mehet_weret: (Mortal: Anguish / Beach)
It had become a little easier, because of meeting Peter and Paul, talking with Ogma and Anpu. Just for the mere fact that she was no longer alone in this. (No, she did not mean to dump responsibility on to anybody - that was not the way of a queen. But she was not prepared to deal with what was transpiring, and with out Heru's council - and even if he were awake, she knew it would not be fully his - she was not fit to make decisions or take actions which could shake the very substance of how they were, and had been.) It meant that there was help, and a second opinion (and a third, blessedly, and more, by the sounds of it) and that there were more resources to be pooled.

More could be done.

At least it had seemed so when she'd been with them.

And then she got home, to the still form of her king, the body of a god - and, she knew, powerful and overwhelming as fitting - with less life in it than her own, than a pure mortal. Indeed, growing stronger, but still not enough to be animated. To speak and think and act on his own.

The sadness, wrongness to this sight took her again.

She moved around the place, straightening, making sure that everything was in order. Taking care of her body and of his, as much as was possible.

And then she was back to waiting. Working on untangling the spell and waiting. Watching him and waiting. Thinking and waiting. Remembering. And waiting.
mehet_weret: (Mortal: Nice / silver dress)
RP for [profile] too_manysecrets and probably eventually [profile] antsolutely. Backdated to the week after this.

Hathor had studied the spell. Forwards and backwards. She understood the words involved; she understood the power weaving involved, after a fashion. But she was at a loss as to why what she had seen back in DC had happened.
And as to how to fix it. Or even how to speed up Heru's recovery.

She was positive that he was growing stronger. Very very slowly, but he was. However... he wasn't waking yet. And she was growing even more frightened. Helpless.

The old book was too much to carry around. Very carefully, she excised the spell (it was too dangerous to have two copies of it lying around) from it, and was carrying it with herself, safe in a leather-bound notebook in her purse. Just in case.

But in the end, she fell back on Ellen's activities while she wasn't keeping vigil over Heru. And that included a lecture scheduled at the linguistics university by Peter Torkarov, the variety of which had caught at her attention.

She left home at the latest possible time; got there shortly before the lecturer. Sat close to the middle of the lecture hall, and prepared to try to listen carefully. Maybe the back of her brain would help out with something, meanwhile.

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Ellen Maharet Anscombe

February 2012

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