Author's note: Many thanks to those who reviewed my other Mummy stories, they were wonderful!! I've figured out that "A River in Egypt", "Outside", and now this story can all go together. In that order. So, here's the next installment in the series, again it's a songfic. Please review, they make me so happy!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Imhotep, Anck-su-namun, or anything else from the Mummy movies. They belong to Universal and Stephen Sommers. The song "Innocente" belongs to Delirium. Please don't sue me.



His eyes. They were haunting and captivating, always forcing her to meet them and trapping gaze. That was why she tried as hard as possible never to meet his eyes. With all others she held her head high and met their gaze, but in his presence she always bowed her head. Averted her eyes from his.

They held something in them, a fire that burnt and set her on ablaze. A respect that none had ever shown her. A longing that made her ache. A desire that made her pulse pound. His eyes held something foreign to her.


Which was what she was staring at right now. His eyes; love.

Anck-su-namun had no idea how everyone else could be so oblivious to the passion in his eyes, but they were. He would be dead if he was even suspected of taking an interest in Pharaoh's favorite whore.

But he was not dead. Even though he haunted her, tormented her, she was staring into his very alive eyes at that very moment.

You can't see my eyes

You can't see my eyes

They don't see yours

Hear me when I say

They don't mind at all

He had snuck into her bedchamber, as she had often dreamed and hoped he would. But this was folly, no good would come of this.

Everything was silent in her chambers, save for their breathing. It was only them, two souls trapped in a stare and unsure of what to do. A storm was approaching, they knew it. Yet they stood still, waiting to brave it.

Imhotep looked at her as if she were a waterfall in the middle of the desert he had been wandering through for days. Perhaps she was.

After all, he had not wanted to leave her side when she had forced him to flee from her rooms, panicked and adamant that she did not love him, that she had only made a mistake.

It's the rain that I hear coming

Not a stranger or a ghost

It's the quiet of a storm approaching

That I fear the most

It's the pain that I hear coming

It had hurt, telling him to leave, saying those things that would make him go. But it had been for him. Only for him. If they had been caught, he would have suffered far worse.

She was used to pain, she experienced the worst torment nearly every night now. But guilt was still hard to bear. She had already caused a poor gardener to be whipped, but she felt she would die if she caused Imhotep to be punished because of her.

After he had left her, once she was certain he was gone, she had cried. A tear had fallen to the floor, near her feet. She had never cried.

Not when Seti first penetrated her, had she cried.

Not when he had nearly raped her into sweet oblivion did she let the tears of pain and violation fall.

Not when she was submitted to his public whims of fancy would she allow the court and her master to see her break.

But one man had been able to draw a tear from her eyes. Only one man, and it had been because of love instead of malice.

The slightest crystal tear, drops to the ground

In silence, when my love is near.

Darling when did you fall? When was it over?

Darling when? When did you fall? When was it over?

Wiping her eyes, she had called for her servants. She would not acknowledge the pain, she would ignore the aching in her heart, in her veins, in her soul. She would fight the loneliness just as she always had.

It's marching through my door now

The stony cold of lonesome

A bell tolls for my heart and then my lonesome song begins

It's marching through my door now

The stony cold of lonesome

A bell tolls for my heart and now my lonesome song begins

And now, as she stood in front of him in her bedchamber once more, she felt her eyes lose focus from the tears forming. She blinked. Once, twice, three times until she was certain they would not fall. Not in front of him. She would not let him see her cry.

Even though he knew she was fighting the tears as he stared at her, silent and unmoving. Like the manifestation of a god, perhaps his god. He was handsome as one would imagine a god to be.

"Princess," he spoke finally, his voice wrapping itself around her, snaking through her ears and inside her head, like it always did. It was a whisper, soft and sensual. Intoxicating. "You can not shut me out," he told her confidently.

Anck-su-namun tried to be angry with the self-surety of the statement. She would be with any other. But never with him.

Imhotep stepped forward and she saw his eyes were glassy as she supposed hers appeared. They were glistening with unshed tears, tears she was fighting.

Darling, when did you cry? I couldn't hear you

Darling when? When did you cry? I couldn't hear you

"I," she started, backing away as he approached her. "You are quite full of yourself to make such a declaration, High Priest," she spat with unconvincing anger. "Now leave me. This is forbidden, you know the penalty for touching me, for falling in love with me, as you act like you have done," she tried to sound derisive, she tried to sound scathing.

But she couldn't.

I suppose it is the price of falling in love

I suppose it is the price of falling in love

He came closer, but she failed to move away. She saw the storm in his eyes, heard the thunder in his whispering voice. She felt the lightning in her stomach as she stared at him in anticipation.

Yet all was silent now, save for their breathing that would turn to panting and moans before becoming deep and relaxed in slumber.

She would let him take her, she would take him. They would love each other in a way she had thought impossible for her. She would let him touch her in places no other man would dare except for Seti. But she would not feel the pain from Imhotep, not the agony she received from Seti.

It's the rain that I hear coming

Not a stranger, not a ghost

Of the quiet of a storm approaching

That I fear the most

It's the pain that I hear coming

That's when she felt it. One, singly tear escaping her eye, falling down her face, falling down to the ground at her feet. She stared down at it, then looked up into Imhotep's eyes.

He gently reached up and wiped her eye, smudging the mingled paint and tears. He leaned down, close, so close to her. His lips claimed her tenderly and reverently. He parted their mouths, breathing in her scent.


She closed her eyes and sighed, relieved, excited, aroused, moved. She felt the loneliness wash away. She would give in, she would let him lead her to the bed. She would let herself love him.

He would break down her walls, and she would cry a river of sadness away.

The slightest crystal tear drops to the ground

In silence when my love is near

It's marching through my door now

the stony cold of lonesome

A bell tolls for my heart and now my lonesome song will end

Darling when did we fall? When was it over?

Darling when? When did we fall? When was it over?

No good would come of this. Tears of anguish would again indeed fall, many times. Nothing is free.

Not even their love.

They would pay for their crime, their sin committed willingly.

Tears again would fall. But they would have a respite.

I suppose it is the price of falling in love.

I fear that it's the price of falling in love.