Chapter 41
Natasha had to admit that finding out her dead sister wasn’t so dead and the existence of ancient Egyptian Gods wasn’t at all what she expected when she originally sought to liberate a young Widow.
She had been taught to ‘expect the unexpected’ but nowhere on that list was resurrection or powerful beings that could kill her. She was sure that the whole thing would hit her later on after all the adrenaline had left her body and she crashed hard, but Natasha was good at organizing priorities, and having an existential crisis was not very high on that list. Her top mission was to secure Yelena and bring her back safe and sound and alive.
But for the moment, she had to place her faith in the woman that took Yelena under her wing and was currently masquerading around as Scarlet Scarab.
Natasha doesn’t quite understand what a “Council of the Gods” regarded but the entire trip there was filled with Layla rambling to her about formalities and reminded that they were actual Gods watching. Natasha could sum up the whole conversation in one sentence: Keep quiet and don’t do anything that would offend the Gods and get them killed.
Natasha ensured that before she actually met the council to leave Clint a text that she was going dark for a little bit before informing Maria that she was taking leave from SHIELD. Maria told her to get her ass back to headquarters but Natasha just being polite in informing her because she wasn’t asking.
She knew that she had yet to see the physical form of a God but she hadn’t expected to walk into a room of average everyday adults. If she had passed by them on the streets, she wouldn’t have given them a second glance. She never would have raked her eyes over them and thought ‘puppeted by an ancient Egyptian God’.
All eyes turned toward them when they entered the tomb. A man immediately stood from his seat to address them. “Where is the avatar of Khonshu?” He demanded.
Layla grimaced slightly, letting out a small bow toward them. Natasha mimicked her, letting her take the lead. “I have a lot to catch you up on,” Layla spoke, her voice echoing in the large chamber. The woman was putting on her best front but Natasha could tell that she was nervous.
Layla straightened and then cleared her throat before she started to catch the avatars up on everything she had told Natasha. When she finished, she had a small hopeful look on her face as she quietly requested their aid.
One of the women stepped forward. “You said he was piloting his avatar’s body?”
Layla nodded. “Apep killed her and Khonshu took over her body. I couldn’t stop him from leaving.”
“A fight against the child that never ages,” the second woman murmured quietly. Natasha had heard that title before, it was one bestowed upon Yelena, her sister trapped in the body of a fifteen-year-old for the past five years.
Natasha wasn’t sure how it worked but she doesn’t care. Yelena could be fifteen forever and Natasha would look after her all the same. She just wanted to bring her baby sister back safe and sound. As long as Yelena was alive and at her side then nothing else mattered.
“--and who is this?” A question drew all eyes to Natasha. She was pinned under the curious stares of five avatars, and probably five Gods as well.
“This is Natasha,” Layla commented, her hand landing on Natasha’s shoulder. “She’s a friend.” Layla’s tone was careful which told Natasha that she had to be very cautious of where she stepped next.
She had done nothing to bring attention to herself but the first woman who inquired about Khonshu piloting Yelena’s body stepped forward and got close to Natasha and Layla.
Natasha never claimed to be tall, the woman in front of her had only an inch or so on her in height, but her gaze made Natasha feel like she was minuscule.
“You have no God tied to you,” the woman declared to the room, her eyes narrowing in on Natasha. “You are a mortal.”
The words were spoken as if being mortal was beneath them. Natasha was trying to determine if the woman staring at her was a Goddess or just a snobby woman.
“You dare to bring a mortal here, avatar of Tawaret?” The first man stepped forward, his gaze narrowing in on Layla.
Layla’s face hardened as she straightened up. “I brought her here. She is a close friend of the avatar of Khonshu. She bore witness to him piloting his vassal.”
The woman inspected Layla, squinting her eyes at her. “Your Goddess is not here, is she, avatar of Tawaret?”
“No.” Natasha could see Layla swallowing hard as she tried to keep herself collected. “She’s searching for the soul of the avatar of Khonshu and ensuring that she doesn’t cross over while waiting for her God to finish fighting.”
Natasha’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in her chest. The thought of Yelena crossing over terrified her. She doesn’t want the last memory she had of her sister to be a knife slitting her throat open as she gurgled for air.
“Unless Khonshu or Apep break the rules then we cannot intervene,” the third woman finally spoke up.
“What?” Layla gasped before she slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean--”
“Gods fight all of the time, especially using their avatars. When the fight is over, we will detain Khonshu to question him on his whereabouts,” the second man placated, his tone soft and soothing.
“What does breaking the rules entail?” Natasha couldn’t help herself as she asked the question. The man’s gaze slid to peer at her.
“Interfering in mortal affairs,” the first woman spoke, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked regal and ethereal, which made Natasha take the guess that she was not speaking to a fellow ‘mortal’.
“Does killing avatars and taking over their body not count as interfering in mortal affairs?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Avatars aren’t considered mortal,” Layla finally spoke up, glancing at her. “The process of creating an avatar requires a piece of a God being placed inside a temporary vassal.”
“So you all are okay with Gods walking around in mortal bodies to fight?” Natasha asked incredulously, taking the hint that she was pushing too far when Layla shot her a glare.
“You would do well to not question Gods, little girl,” the first man drew himself up and Natasha bristled at the name he addressed her as but made the decision to let it drop. For all she knew, a God was behind the driver's wheel and speaking to her, in which case she would probably seem like a little girl to him.
“My apologies,” Natasha placated, letting her frame shrink in on itself in the picture of shame. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Ease off of her, Osiris,” the second man rested a hand on the first man’s shoulder. “She does not understand our ways.”
The first man, Osiris, grunts as he eyed Natasha. “We will make no move until we must,” he declared before he turned and walked back to his seat. “You are dismissed.”
“C’mon,” Layla muttered to her, gently grasping her elbow to tug her out of the tomb.
Natasha felt the wasted time slip through her fingers as their window of opportunity to help Yelena started to close.
“--and then I poured cranberry juice all down her dress,” Yelena laughed, laying on the floor of the boat next to Tawaret as she told stories about her times with her God. “Khonshu told me that I was being childish so I told him that I couldn’t stand being babied by narcissistic rich women.”
“Perhaps you were a little bit childish,” Tawaret chuckled, brushing off Yelena’s huff of indignation. “There is nothing wrong with that.”
Yelena pursed her lips together before she let out another soft giggle. “Okay, yeah, maybe I was being a teeny tiny bit childish, but she started it.”
“Of course,” Tawaret agreed easily and they both laughed again.
“Oh! Did I tell you about this one time that I wanted to freak Khonshu out so I--” Yelena choked on her words as a wave of pain surged through her, seizing all of her muscles as her back arched in agony. Her whole body was on fire and she was burning. The pain was gone as quickly as it came, leaving Yelena gasping for air as her muscles ached. “What the fuck?”
“Easy now,” Tawaret said softly when Yelena tried to sit up, a hand bracing her back to help her.
“I thought I couldn’t feel pain when I was dead,” Yelena tried to take a few deep breaths. “Khonshu has taken my body through fights before, I never felt a thing.”
Tawaret’s face was grim as rubbed Yelena’s back. “You have never fought a God before nor have you wielded the power of one.”
“He’s fighting Apep right now?” Yelena demanded, fear seizing her heart. She had agreed to give him her body but she neglected to think about the ramifications of fighting an actual God. She thought that she would be safe while she was dead, nestled in her memories of a better time.
“It would appear so,” Tawaret caught her head when another surge of pain hit her, this time centered on her right side. “Easy there. You’re alright.”
Yelena wasn’t sure if it was because Tawaret was the Goddess of women and children or if it was just because she wanted the comfort but she was thankful that Tawaret was there with her.
She had gotten used to the pain that came with being White Knight but never had she felt like her nerves were on fire or her blood was replaced with boiling water. Not even being shot in the head or having her neck slit hurt as much as fighting a God.
A whimper of pain escaped her lips when it felt like her arm broke. There was no snap or deformities but Yelena knew the pain of a broken bone, having broken dozens over her years as not only White Knight but White Widow.
“Shh, you are alright,” Tawaret gently tugged her onto her side as she jerked in pain once again. “Did you know that the first time I ever met Layla she screamed and threw a glass bottle at me?”
Yelena latched onto Tawaret’s words, shaking her head the best she could as tears rolled down her cheeks to pool on the boat beneath her.
“Not the worst way that I’ve been greeted before,” Tawaret continued and began to tell stories of Layla as her avatar. Yelena wanted to smile each time Tawaret would call Layla her ‘Little Scarab’ but she had no energy left within her to do so.
Yelena curled into a tight ball, whimpering each time the ship went over a wave that sent a fresh pang of pain through her. “Do you think my body will still be intact?” She couldn’t help but interrupt.
The smile fell off of Tawaret’s face as she was tugged from the memory of her and Layla. She stared down at Yelena as if debating upon telling her the truth before her frame sagged. “I don’t know, little one.”
Yelena clenched her teeth together as the pain focused on her left thigh. She was going numb, the torturous burning just an aching throb that drained her. “I want Khonshu…”
“I know,” Tawaret said even softer.
Yelena squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on finding something else to think about. Her thoughts latched onto Khonshu and she sifted through memories to try and drown the pain out. She thought of late nights when Khonshu would teach her how to speak Arabic and Greek as well as read hieroglyphs.
“I want to go home,” Greek left Yelena’s lips as a cramp in her abdomen made her curl in on herself tighter.
Tawaret let out a soft gasp. “You speak Greek? Of course, you do, Khonshu must have taught you. I should teach Layla. Soaks up knowledge like a sponge, that one.”
Just like that, Tawaret was off on another ramble about Layla, gushing about her accomplishments like a proud parent.
Yelena let her cheek rest on the wood beneath her, taking a ragged breath with each wave they crossed. She was getting tired, something she hadn’t felt before while she was dead. She wanted to take a nap, to just curl up and give into the darkness.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift in the darkness of her mind, detaching herself from the pain that kept burning through her.
“Little one, you cannot rest,” Tawaret’s hand suddenly fell on her shoulder and Yelena flailed to try and get it off, the touch burning. Tawaret was undeterred and spoke again, her voice serious. “Yelena, you cannot sleep.”
“I’m tired,” Yelena stared up at the purple sky, blinking slowly as she wondered when she opened her eyes. “I’m so sleepy, Tawaret.”
“No, no, no,” Tawaret grabbed her shoulders, trying to tug Yelena to sit up. Yelena wiggled slightly in the hold but decided that it took too much energy. “Yelena, look at me. Khonshu’s powers are taking a toll on your body. Mortals are not meant to wield pure Godly powers. But if you sleep then I may not be able to guide you back out. Just hold on, Yelena.”
Yelena let herself rock with the boat, like a baby in a cradle lulled to sleep by its mother. “I won’t sleep,” she promised, her head dipping down as her arm twitched with pain, unable to violently thrash anymore. “I just… need to rest my eyes for a moment…”
“Tell me about your sister,” Tawaret demanded. “Why did she never come to find you?”
Yelena managed to pull her head up enough to peer at Tawaret in confusion. “She thought I was dead?”
“Then why would you not seek her out?” Tawaret continued on, her voice still strong and firm. Her questions were confusing Yelena, she wondered if she blanked in the middle of a conversation they were having. “I saw the magazine clippings. She was right there? What stopped you?”
Yelena tried to keep her thoughts straight as she answered when Tawaret asked a question that made her freeze.
“So you think you’re better than her because she’s just a human,” Tawaret’s voice wasn’t kind anymore.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Yelena confessed, letting her head flop back as she tried to think. “My sister is fine the way she is.”
“But she will never be you. She will never have a God of her own. She will be just small and weak. She only gets one life--” Tawaret continued on.
“Stop talking about my fucking sister!” Yelena wiggled in Tawaret’s grip, trying to kick a foot out but gritted her teeth together at the pain that shot up her leg with the action. “She’s not weak, she’s perfect! She’s my sister! She’s an Avenger, she saves people!”
“Good,” Tawaret gripped her chin with one hand, yanking her head up to look at her. “Hold onto that anger, Yelena. Tether it to you and don’t let go. Keep fighting, you have something to prove, you have people to go back to.”
Yelena had been angry before. Anger made her reckless and she would sometimes see just how far she could push before she was on the verge of shattering. She was no stranger to anger, it was a familiar companion.
Yelena secured the rope around her waist, tethering herself to the anchor that was bitter anger, the kind that left her screaming and lashing out at Khonshu because of the hand that life dealt her.
All she could do was simmer in anger and pain, and hope that there would be a body left for her to return to when the fight was done.