Archive of Our Own

This time, Set thinks in the moment before it all turns back. His own sword hurtles towards his neck, Thoth's face looking impassively down at him. He can feel Osiris's body disappearing in his arms. This time I'll trust my Lord Brother. This time—

This time, Set wakes up knowing he's loved.

For a minute, he's not sure what to do with it. He stares up at the ceiling and gasps, his lungs heaving through the shock. His hair spills around him, a pool of ink upon his pillow, and it streams down his back when he finally brings himself to sit up.

His fingers itch to brush it out of his face, but he stops himself, his fingers clenching into fists. Osiris was the last person to touch his hair. Set can't bring himself to lose that, just in case—

Just in case.

It's when the doors to his chamber open, like they have on this day before, that he realizes he's lingered too long. Thoth will be planning. Thoth will be preparing, and meanwhile Set is just sitting here.

Still, he can't bring himself to do anything but wait with his heart pounding beneath his ribs until a familiar voice rings out.

"Good morning, Set. It's rare that I'm awake before you are."

Osiris is smiling. Set can see it even through the sheer curtains around his bed. He's so bright that Set almost has to raise one hand to shield his eyes against the light that seems to pour off of him.

A slim, elegant hand reaches out to part the curtains, and Osiris's beaming smile comes clearer into view. Letting the drape of the gauze fall closed behind his back, Osiris perches himself on the edge of Set's bed.

The smile fades into something more serious, a look of question in Osiris's eyes. When he reaches out to run his fingers down the fall of Set's hair, Set freezes with it.

Osiris's hand drops down to rest in his lap, and some small part of Set wishes he could reach out, grasp that hand within his and draw it to where it belongs.

"Did you not sleep well, Set?" Osiris asks in concern, and Set wonders: has he ever realized how often his Lord Brother says his name? He says it like no one else does, full of fondness and light, with no trace of bitterness or suspicion.

He says it like he thinks it deserves to be said—like it's the only thing in the world worth saying.

Set shakes his head, though he doesn't really mean it as an answer. Had he even really slept at all? He doesn't know. All he knows is that the last thing he remembers before waking here again is his brother's heart crushed to dust in his hands.

No; that's not true. He remembers a voice in his head, one suspiciously like his grandfather's, telling him to try again.

Osiris gives a sympathetic sigh. "You've been so tired since returning from the desert," he says, and it takes Set a few long seconds to realize Osiris doesn't mean the same desert Set's just come back from—not this Set. Not the one sitting in front of him right now.

Very suddenly, he can't bear it all.

"Will you build me a villa in the desert?" he asks abruptly, and Osiris freezes. "Where I can be out of this infernal city? Where you can visit me whenever you want?"

"How did you—" Osiris begins. He tilts his head in confusion, but it lasts only a moment before he seems to decide it doesn't matter and his gentle smile is back. "Of course I will. You know I'll give you anything you ask."

Of course I will, he says, as sure as the river and the sun, but Set hadn't known it, before. He'd only known it when it was already too late.

He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. In the silence, Osiris's eyes trace the line of his hair, and Set—

I love you, Osiris had said, even as his body was disappearing in Set's hold. That's what it means.

"And what would we do there?" he demands. In the very back of his mind, he knows it's not important. What's important is getting out of this bed and stopping Thoth. What's important is getting Osiris somewhere Thoth can never reach him, if such a place exists. The underworld, perhaps. Osiris can build him a villa in the land of the dead, and they'll stay there until the moon falls out of the sky.

But he has to know. That's what it means. Set has never known what it is to be loved. Now, he has to know—

What does he mean?

Osiris is still smiling. It used to make Set angry, sometimes—that Osiris could smile and smile and smile, all the while rage bubbled incessantly in Set's chest. Now, he wants to make sure Osiris never stops.

"Anything you like," he says gently. "Anything for my little Set."

Set isn't quite sure what he's doing. All he knows is he's here, back on this day he's lived twice before, and his Lord Brother is sitting bright and alive and smiling beside him.

His feels his hair fall forward, over his shoulder, when he leans in to press his mouth to Osiris's. The lips beneath his are warm, plush. Full of vitality.

Full of passion, Set thinks as he reaches up to curl one hand around the nape of Osiris's neck, almost and not a question as that mouth parts beneath his. Of devotion.

This, he knows very suddenly, is everything he's ever wanted all along and refused to see.

When Set pulls back, Osiris is watching him with a bemused smile, but there's a light in his eyes that can't be misunderstood—not even by Set.

"Yes," Osiris murmurs, and the light in his eyes is intent. It's full of desire. "We can do that as much as you'd like."

With his hand shaking—when was the last time his hand had shaken? When he'd held Osiris's dying body in his arms, yes, but before that?—he reaches out. Osiris's hair gleams, sleek and beautiful.

It's soft, when Sets runs his fingertips over it and catches a curl between them. Osiris's eyes open wide in surprise.

I love you. I love you.

A world without war—that's Osiris's dream. Set will start any war he has to, to keep Osiris safe.

He'll end any war he has to, as well. What is war, compared to the man sitting here watching him so intently?

"Set," Osiris begins, his voice quiet, and awed, and full of questions, but they don't have time for this. Set has taken too much time already. Later, if things go right, there will be all the time in the world.

There will be a little villa where he and Osiris can just be themselves, whenever they go there, except that Set won't just stay there and wait for him. Set will stay by his side always, whether it's here in the city or in the underworld or in their own little universe in the desert.

He lets Osiris's hair fall from between his fingers, the memory of it supple and soft on his skin.

Then he steels himself and tells Osiris everything.