Chapter Text
Seth
It was strangely banal, listening to the way Nephthys explained that she’d never once approached Osiris at all until the day she asked him to help her have a child.
“I admired him for years,” she explained, staring mainly at her hands. Her pale face looked weary, but she had a small, sad smile on her face. “But I never said anything.”
A part of Seth was asking why she hadn’t told Seth about this, but it wasn’t his place to talk. It was Nephthys’ place to explain. Seth had made his feelings clear on the matter for many years.
So Nephthys talked. Her recollection of her conversation with Osiris about having a baby was almost bland in its normalcy. Osiris seemed to treat it like a business transaction.
“I was so distracted by having this part of him, that I… I didn’t think overmuch about what I was giving him in turn. I would have given anything for some piece of him to have with me.” She looked at Anubis apologetically. “I’m sorry, Anubis, that I hid the truth from you for so long.” She looked nervously up at Seth.
Seth simply gazed back at her. He had no questions to ask that he felt comfortable saying here, where Anubis, Khnum, and Horus were listening. I wish you’d spoken to me about this before. If you wanted to be with him so much, we could have ended things before they even began, or ended it then, at the least. Seth imagined he’d have been upset, but not like this. Perhaps, if Osiris had still gotten up to his plans, Nephthys wouldn’t have been part of Seth’s grievances. But now Nephthys was inextricably bound into it. He hated Osiris. But Nephthys was a painful wound that felt opened anew every time he looked at her.
Nephthys grimaced and turned back to Horus. “And that was all. We never again spoke about it. I think sometimes he looked at Anubis in a different way than a mere uncle, but he never treated Anubis any differently that I was aware of. He never interfered with Seth’s parenting. He never suggested anything else. And I never brought it up again either, until the night Sekhmet told Seth about it. I haven’t spoken with Osiris since before I came across Seth and Sekhmet that night.”
Horus thought this over for a time before asking, “You were the one to suggest the baby?”
Nephthys winced. “Yes. I thought… Osiris was the god of life, so perhaps he wouldn’t see it for what it was. Seth wanted a child, but we…” She winced and looked awkwardly at Seth.
“We had trouble conceiving because Osiris stole my seed,” Seth finished for her. Everyone knew he was Horus’ plaything, anyway. Recounting this was nothing at all for him. If he had to listen to Nephthys chip away at their past, he might as well chip away at the rest.
Nephthys’ eyes widened. “What?!”
Seth remembered how ridiculous it sounded when Osiris first explained it to him. But that was long ago at this point, so he shrugged. “I have no idea how long he was doing it. I never felt it.” I’d have done something if I had. And clearly Isis never noticed in all the times she healed me over the years. “But I assume that’s why you couldn’t bear a child with me. He didn’t want me to have a child with you.”
Nephthys frowned. “But… why?”
“Because he’s an obsessive monster who wants me for his own personal fucktoy,” Seth replied, making her flinch. Good. This is the shitstain you’re so deeply in love with. I wish you both the best if you’re ever together again. “He viewed me as his personal property. Having a child with you would mean someone else was using his property without his consent. You remember how proud he was. He would never have borne that.” The way Osiris felt entitled to Seth was one of the primary things Seth hated about him. It was disgusting. As if Seth was owed to him. All the years he’d invaded Seth’s own body without Seth’s knowledge, and lied to Seth’s face every day. And the creep felt like a child would convince Seth of his affections?
Nephthys put a hand over her face. “How? I never—! He was never like this! Prideful, yes, arrogant at times, yes, but it was in ways that made him a good ruler. He was never cruel to any of us. He loved all of us.”
“He never loved any of us,” Seth replied, his hands tightening on his arms. “He only saw us as his means for his own ends.” Isis, to secure his position. Nephthys, to get hold of the power of creation. And Seth, to stay nearby until Osiris could hatch his stupid plan. Even Anubis was caught up in the mess of it.
“I just don’t understand…” Nephthys insisted. She was crying now.
Seth remembered how he had been unwilling to accept it all. But he hadn’t been able to take his time to process it. He’d gone into survival mode. Because anything less meant madness.
“You made a human error, Nephthys,” Horus said, calling their attention to him. Horus’ expression was stern, and he gazed back at her with sharp eyes. “You worshipped Osiris. Worship is the farthest step from understanding.”
Nephthys stared back at Horus in horror.
Seth frowned at Horus.
Horus looked at Anubis, who glared back at him.
Seth rolled his eyes. Can you let your grudge against Anubis rest for even a short while? Though he had to admit there were some parallels between Anubis’ trust in Osiris and Nephthys’ affection. But it was all wrapped up in lies and Seth’s failure to see what was wrong in advance.
“Osiris didn’t suggest the baby,” Khnum said, surprising them all. He was staring at Nephthys. “But he did suggest the power of creation in exchange?”
“Yes,” Nephthys replied as she raised her head properly. She wiped away her tears. “He said it was necessary for everything with the pregnancy to go smoothly.”
“That was a lie,” Seth said with a frown. “He wanted to use it on me.”
Nephthys frowned. “Use it on you? For what?”
“What did he say, specifically?” Horus asked, making her look at him. “When he said he wanted the power of creation, what did he say?”
Nephthys glanced at Seth before saying, “He said… ‘I’ll need the power of creation for this to work properly.’ That’s all.”
“Did he ask you how to use it?” Horus asked.
Nephthys shook her head. “He just took it, went away, and came back with a container of his seed for me.” Her cheeks warmed a little, but she continued staring at Horus, waiting for more questions.
“So it seems he worked alone,” Horus mused.
“What do you mean?” Nephthys asked.
“Osiris drugged me,” Seth said, before Horus could answer for him. He didn’t need to hear Horus explain things again in his ridiculous fashion. “That night I confronted him. He drugged my wine.”
Nephthys’ eyes widened.
“He explained what he’d done with my seed, his deal with you, and then he assaulted me while trying to use the power of creation on me.” Seth grimaced. “He wanted to have a child with me. That’s what he needed the power of creation for.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nephthys said, quietly, but she kept staring at him.
“He was going to use Anubis’ soul for it,” Seth said.
Anubis’ lips twitched.
“No!” Nephthys said, still horrified. She looked at Anubis in alarm.
Anubis gazed at the table, clearly lost in thought.
“It seems the proposition was entirely in his favor,” Horus said. “Seth and Nephthys would stop trying for children, and he had two ingredients for his plans.” There was an odd note in his voice.
“Admiring his planning for once?” Seth asked sharply.
“I acknowledge he wasn’t a fool all the time,” Horus said. “But the entire idea was foolish, so the fact that he was somewhat skilled at carrying it out is immaterial.”
Seth almost laughed at that.
“He wouldn’t have wanted to create suspicion,” Horus said, gazing at the air over the table. “So he lied where he needed and hid his plans as long as he could. I wonder what he was waiting for… A better opportunity?” Horus looked at Seth for a moment. “Did you two never fight?”
“Not like that night,” Seth replied. “After the war with Ra, he wasn’t interested in combat. He preferred to focus on his statesmanship. If we argued, one of us always walked away before it came to blows. But that day…” The day he’d discovered everything he knew was a lie. That two of the people he’d trusted most had spent years lying to him about something like this… “I lost control.”
“I should have told you,” Nephthys said quietly, staring at her hands on the table. “I’m sorry, Seth.”
Seth laughed, startling her and everyone else. He couldn’t help it, though. It was hilarious. “Told me what, Nephthys? Did you think I was upset just because you didn’t tell me yourself? Because I had to find out from Sekhmet of all people? Is that why you’ve been hiding in your cell?”
Nephthys flinched. “Seth, I—”
“Horus was right,” Seth said, putting his head in his hands. “This whole thing was foolish. Stupid. If you’d come to be about your wants before all of this happened, perhaps much could have been averted. Instead, you went behind my back to Osiris, rather than telling me directly what any of the problems were, either about my failure when it came to your conceiving or my failure to stir any affection for me in your heart.”
Nephthys gasped. “Seth!”
“Because if you did love me,” Seth said as his hands shook, “you would have told me, wouldn’t you? You would have been honest. Not later. You would have told me you cared for Osiris. Or wanted his help, at least. Instead you planned all of this. And at so many points you could have changed something, not just after it was complete and Anubis was born and you were already lying to me. But you chose not to.” He took a moment to breathe. His heart was racing.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Nephthys said quietly.
Seth laughed again. “Did you think this hurts less?! Did you think so little of me that I’d have been furious if you turned me down, or chose to end our relationship so you could pursue Osiris? I practically worshiped the ground beneath your feet, Nephthys. I would have wished you well!” He blinked, recalling Horus’ words from earlier.
“Worship is the farthest step from understanding.”
Seth grimaced. That’s why I was so blind. “It all truly does come to honesty, doesn’t it?” He looked up at her.
There were tears in her eyes again, but she was gazing back at him, waiting. Hoping for the punishment he’d never given her perhaps.
It was never my punishment to give, he thought. You hurt Anubis. I was just collateral damage. “You were never honest with me. You never trusted me. And you ruined at least three lives in the doing.”
Nephthys hugged herself.
“What was so monstrous about me back then?” he asked, quietly. What did Osiris in all his madness do that was better? “I trusted you.” And you stabbed me in the back for it.
“I’m so sorry, Seth,” Nephthys said, bowing her head. “I was a fool. It’s not your fault.”
I’m the god of war and I’m meant to protect us from enemies, Seth thought, gazing at her, feeling a gaping maw of emptiness surrounding him. But I failed to see the ones at my back. How is it not my fault?
“Perhaps we should take a break,” Khnum said, in his soft but gentle voice. “Things are getting heated. Nephthys has given her testimony. When Isis returns, she’ll want to go over it again.”
No wonder Anubis likes him, Seth thought dimly. He’s the calm one. He breathed in and out, trying to relax.
“…Yes,” Horus said. Seth was surprised to see Horus’ eyes on him. “We’ll take a break.” He looked at Khnum. “See that Nephthys is taken to her quarters, not her cell. And guards are placed on her.” He looked at Nephthys. “I don’t believe you’re working with Osiris, Aunt. But it’s just to be safe.”
Nephthys nodded, still gazing at the table. “I understand.”
Horus stood and walked over to Seth. “Come.”
Seth had been ready to leave for ages, but getting up from that chair felt like one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He numbly followed Horus out of the room and down a hall, wondering if they were returning to Horus’ office. Will he tie me to a column again? He almost welcomed the idea. Pain would take him out of himself, perhaps. And it would give him something to grapple against, rather than Nephthys and her tears and how much he hated every second of her pain.
His love for her had felt so magical. He hadn’t thought he could feel that for anyone. But it had been like a special flower, just for him. And he thought she’d shared it with him. But instead, he was a fool in a walled off room, while everyone ran away.
He and Horus ended up walking down a familiar path to Seth’s rooms. Seth frowned as Horus opened the door and let him inside. Seth’s rooms were clean of any detritus from the last time he’d been here. He recalled he hadn’t been happy, and the furniture had mostly been destroyed, and the floors strewn with blood and pottery. Now, the rooms looked as lavish as they’d been before he learned about Nephthys and Osiris. Before Isis ran.
“I had the servants clean this a while back,” Horus said. “I thought the palace shouldn’t be full of wreckage anymore.”
Seth snorted. It made some sense. He wondered who would have lived here after him. Some special diplomat?
“You should rest,” Horus said, indicating the bed. “It’s been a long day.”
“You almost sound worried for me,” Seth said, confused. He assumed Horus would gloat or something. Not this.
“I know what you can get up to when you’re angry,” Horus said.
Seth snorted. “As if Maat’s spell would let me.” But he walked to the bed and sat down on it, idly rubbing his hands over the sheets. Would unaltered sleep drown anything out? Usually he needed at least alcohol.
“You really think you were a monster to Nephthys when you were married?” Horus asked, still standing near the doorway.
Seth scoffed: he didn’t know what he thought anymore. “I must have been, for her to hide it from me. Why else would she have done this, if she wasn’t afraid of me?” He smirked. “I was still a god of war, after all.” He’d done his best to keep that away from her. To try and separate his work from his life with her. But had it mattered at all?
Horus was quiet for a while. Eventually he said, “Nephthys wasn’t afraid of you.”
Seth froze.
“She was afraid of herself,” Horus continued. “Peace seeks balance, but this was a moment of imbalance. She was ashamed. And a coward, because she knew telling you would hurt you. But not afraid of your own actions.”
Seth leaned forward, breathing in and out. “How do you know?”
“I know,” Horus said. “I could hear it while she was talking.”
Seth’s eyes grew hot. “And why are you telling me?” She didn’t think I was a monster? It was just her own fear of… of herself? He thought he’d bullied her without realizing it. That his powers had somehow intimidated her. That that was part of why she went to Osiris. Or perhaps he so disgusted her or embarrassed her, or any number of reasons. He’d tried to be a good husband, but wondered if he’d failed at that, too. But Horus’ intuition was accurate, or at least had been. Then… Maybe it really wasn’t my fault.
“I am the vengeance of my parents,” Horus explained. “For true wrongs. You’ve done monstrous things, Seth. How you treated her wasn’t one of them.” He looked away. “If you want to feel horrible about yourself, feel it for the things you’ve actually done.”
Seth made a weak laugh. Of course that’s why. He doesn’t want me to waste my time feeling sorry for myself for unimportant things. Nephthys wasn’t his fault. A failure, yes, but not one he’d spurred her towards. He didn’t know what to make of it.
“I’ll be back shortly. I need to fetch some papers, and I’ll do work here while you rest. Do not leave this room.” Horus stepped out, letting the door shut behind him.
Seth shut his eyes and bowed his head, letting his tears fall to the ground. He had no strength to get up and flee anywhere. He tried to master his breathing. But like so many things, he failed at that, and was thankful he was at least alone for it.