Title: Nakhti
Author: Annerb
Rating: Everybody!
Summary: The thoughts of Apophis' host
Classifications: POV, Angst, Missing Scene (Serpent's Song)
Season: 2
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-1, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

Author's Note: This is in response to the GateShip Wednesday Shorts "Serpent's Song" Challenge.


Nakhti.

Nakhti.

Nakhti.

For as long as eternity has stretched, that single word has been my only thought. It blots out all else, subsuming every emotion and sensation. But now, eons later as the demon finally releases its last clinging hold on my body and everything begins to clear, I finally remember the meaning behind those hypnotic syllables.

Strength.

But I know that it is not a mantra of vigor; it is not a reminder to fight the one who has stolen my life and squeezed my soul into oblivion.

Nakhti.

It is not an admonition, but a name. My tether to sanity during my long imprisonment.

Everything she is, was, will be; it is all still anchored to that simple word, the only thing that remains of me.

She has long black hair that falls to her waist. On long winter nights she lets me brush it for her, lets me revel in the feel of it flowing over my palms. She watches me with warm dark eyes that display fathomless wisdom and compassion. Her fingers, calloused from the loom, touch skin as if in worship, and when she gently sighs it is as if the gods themselves wept with bliss.

I can still see her, holding our child to her breast.

I ache to hold them again. To feel the roughness of papyrus under my hands. To have her laugh and tease me for my ink stained fingers.

I call out, even as I cannot help but be aware of the time that has passed, the things stolen by the monster that used me. There is no hope of them coming to me. I know this, even as I call out to them.

A man with strange circles covering his eyes promises me that this will end, that soon I will walk through the seven gates to reach eternal life with my family. To have my soul judged by Anubis' scales and sit at the feet of Osiris in the afterlife. But I know what Osiris and his kind truly are now. The beast has taught me cynicism and I no longer know what to believe.

It does not stop me from clinging to the ka statue the strange man brings me, praying for it to take my soul back where it belongs. Or at least what is left of it.

I know I am dying and I cling to the memory of my Nakhti, praying she will remember me. And that somewhere, beyond the lies of the vile possessors, there really is a place for my beloved and me to sit together and watch the joyous play of our progeny.

Darkness finally falls…and I am thankful to finally be free.

I am coming, my Nakhti, I am coming.


The pounding of blood through my veins and the rasp of air in my lungs bring me back to awareness with a scream rising violently in my throat. But the scream never finds purchase in the real world because my body is, as ever, not my own.

At first I think the beast has followed me into the afterlife, but then I begin to comprehend the humming, impossibly bright light that surrounds my body.

We are reborn.

The man with circles on his face…he has lied to me. It has not ended.

And I finally realize the truth.

This will never end.

Nakhti.

Nakhti.

Nakhti.