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allmyocsarebritish · 10 months ago

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A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

#night at the museum #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #egypt #ancient egypt #history #egyptology #archaeology #natm fandom #natm fanfiction #natm fic #night at the museum fanfic #natm au #egyptian pharaoh

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blueiscoool · 30 days ago

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Discover the Hidden History of Tomb Robbing in Ancient Egypt

Criminals plundered the riches of Egyptian pyramids and underground burials, often within a few years or, in some cases, within a few hours of occupants’ interment.

On November 4, 1922, workers led by British archaeologist Howard Carter noticed a single stair peeking out from beneath the shifting Egyptian sand. Within three weeks, Carter and his team had excavated enough limestone debris and soil to reveal a stairwell that led to the antechamber of an ancient tomb.

After five long years of searching, Carter had found the tomb of Tutankhamun, deep beneath the Valley of the Kings, a site west of the Nile River. Boring a tiny hole in the second door to the antechamber, the archaeologist peered through, using the light of a single candle to survey a small room crammed with a motley mix of furniture, gilded animal heads and dismantled chariots, as well as other priceless treasures last seen more than 3,000 years prior.

The 18th Dynasty ruler’s tomb was the single most consequential discovery of Egyptian antiquities to date; its importance lay not just in the treasures hidden inside, but in the fact that the burial had somehow survived the robbers who had emptied out nearly every other ancient Egyptian tomb. Only a few royal graves rival Tutankhamun’s in splendor. Chief among them is the intact tomb of Psusennes I, known as the Silver Pharaoh because of the silver coffin that housed his mummy.

The silver coffin of Psusennes I.

In an ancient society with a stark separation between the rich and the poor, tomb robbing was ubiquitous. Nobles literally buried their wealth while living alongside people who often didn’t have enough food to feed their families. Plundering burials was a shadow economy driven by criminals who often had inside knowledge of the tombs. It’s likely that many looters either helped build the structures themselves or paid off someone involved in the tombs’ construction, says Betsy M. Bryan, an emeritus Egyptologist at Johns Hopkins University.

Some grave robbers were stonecutters and craftsmen who left gaps in tombs’ walls or knew which bedrock was soft enough to tunnel through to reach the treasures housed within. Others schemed to evade or pay off security left to guard the tombs. These thieves were well connected, calculating and decidedly precise in their criminal endeavors, Bryan says.

“Evidence from the Old, Middle and New Kingdom[s] shows that tomb robbers could be remarkably patient and work over lengthy time periods to create tunnels into tombs that they thought would be rich [with treasures],” she says.

Aboveground structures like the Step Pyramid of Djoser were natural targets for tomb robbers.

Looting happened consistently throughout the history of ancient Egypt, but it was most prevalent during the First and Second Intermediate Periods, which followed the Old and Middle Kingdoms, respectively. Without a strong ruler in place, power became decentralized, and the state had less money to protect its graves. The end of the New Kingdom also ushered in a period of corruption and uncertainty that resulted in widespread tomb robbing.

Officials took a range of steps to prevent tomb robbing, like carving curses on doors to scare would-be looters away. Some tombs, like the pyramid complex of Djoser, were filled with debris to block passage to the burial chambers. During the New Kingdom (circa 1550 to 1070 B.C.E.), sovereigns were buried underground instead of in aboveground pyramids. Workers tasked with building these hidden tombs lived in Deir el-Medina, a village near the Valley of the Kings. Though the isolated, close-knit nature of the community was intended to lower the likelihood of theft, it ultimately had the opposite effect, encouraging looting by the very people assigned to protect the dead.

Workers tasked with sealing tombs had the best access to the treasures hidden within. They were often the last ones out, so no one was the wiser if they ransacked the tombs they’d been hired to protect, says Aidan Dodson, an Egyptologist at the University of Bristol in England. Sometimes, the burials would appear untouched, but once the coffin was opened, the golden mask that once adorned the pharaoh’s face would be missing.

Ruins of Deir el-Medina, a village occupied by the workers who built the tombs in the Valley of the Kings.

In other cases, when a mummy was unwrapped, the jewelry that had been placed inside was gone, stolen by the undertakers who’d prepared the dead for burial, Dodson says. He adds, “Resin was used in embalming, and there would be places on the body where there was an impression of a piece of jewelry that was no longer there.”

When the tomb of Nefermaat, an ancient Egyptian prince, was uncovered in 1871 at Meidum, archaeologists at first thought it was intact, sealed up tight for 4,000 years. But once inside the burial chamber, the scene was chaotic. “Everything was smashed to pieces,” Dodson says. “It had been robbed [and] the mummy broken.”

After a heist, ancient tomb robbers moved on to the next phase of the crime: trafficking their stolen goods in exchange for payment. This, too, required forethought. Getting caught bartering the mask of a pharaoh, for example, would have been cause for execution by impalement on a stake. To avoid this fate, criminals went after treasures that couldn’t be traced, like gold and other precious metals that could be melted down without buyers knowing their origin. In some cases, robbers would steal highly valuable perfumed oils to sell on the international market. Thieves also burned gilded furniture and statues to remove the gold that once adorned them, Dodson says.

Papyrus Mayer B, a legal document detailing the trials of tomb robbers during Egypt's 20th Dynasty.

Historical evidence of tomb robbing comes primarily from a set of papyri detailing trials that took place in Thebes during the New Kingdom, specifically the 20th Dynasty, which spanned 1189 to 1077 B.C.E. The legal documents provide a window into the individuals who carried out the robberies directly, who knowingly fenced looted treasures or who ferried thieves across the Nile to sell their sacred finds, Bryan says.

“We took our copper tools and forced a way into the pyramid of this king through its innermost part,” said a mason named Amenpanufer in a confession dated to around 1110 B.C.E. After stripping the royal mummies of their gold, amulets and jewels, Amenpanufer and his fellow thieves “set fire to their coffins [and] stole their furniture.” The robbers then divided the tomb’s spoils among themselves.

The papyri point to a time when the state was in turmoil, says Salima Ikram, an Egyptologist at the American University in Cairo. Rampant tomb looting coincided with a period of unrest, famine, outside attacks and constant transitions in power.

“In the 20th Dynasty when we have a lot of royal tomb robbery, the state couldn’t provide, and that’s why people were taking matters into their own hands,” says Ikram.

Tutankhamun's tomb was one of the few royal Egyptian burials left largely untouched by ancient looters.

Still, tomb robbing wasn’t confined to times of unrest. Even Tutankhamun, who ruled during the 18th Dynasty (approximately 1550 to 1292 B.C.E.), when Egyptian civilization was at its peak, was the victim of theft. Inside the antechamber of the king’s tomb, Carter’s team found bags of abandoned loot. According to Dodson, the thieves appeared to have been caught in the act and forced to leave their ill-gotten goods behind.

Tomb robbing was one of the worst crimes an ancient Egyptian could commit, as tombs were considered sacred vehicles that provided passage to the afterlife. “Elite society was geared toward eternal life,” says Maria Golia, author of A Short History of Tomb-Raiding: The Epic Hunt for Egypt’s Treasures. Nobles were mummified and packed in a tomb with their belongings, all of them necessities, because “the afterlife was viewed as an extension of their current life,” Golia explains.

The white limestone sarcophagus of Nefermaat, whose tomb was looted by robbers.

Destruction of a tomb was, in a sense, a form of murder—a fact reflected in the brutality of documented punishments, Ikram says. Some accused criminals had their hands cut off, while others were impaled, a form of execution where a stake was inserted into the anus, perforating the body all the way up to the torso.

No matter the punishment, noble tombs remained ripe for theft throughout ancient Egypt’s 3,000-year history—and beyond. After the civilization fell into decline, thievery gave way to treasure hunting, with residents of the region no longer revering Egyptian religion or fearing the curses of the dead, says Dodson. Stealing from tombs was hardly considered a crime anymore. By the late 19th century, seizing such riches was a government-sanctioned practice, with archaeologists excavating tombs in the name of science.

In an ancient world marked by haves and have-nots, loot tucked inside pyramids and buried underground presented an opportunity for an irresistible crime, especially as the once-great Egyptian empire lost power. What was formerly sacred was now a means for feeding a family, Golia says.

Plunderers' loot found in King Tut's tomb.

“This was a system built on burying money, even entire households, underground,” she says, “and while the architects only had one shot at building an impenetrable tomb, the robbers had all the time in the world to figure out how to get in.”

By Sarah Novak.

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