Egyptian Cotton (F)

[NoV]

Egyptian Cotton (F) 

 

I love ancient Egypt and was considering writing a sneezefic based on ‘The Mummy’ movie with Brendon Fraser and Rachel Weisz. However, I ended up doing my own version, although I would happily write a Mummy fic if anyone was interested…?

 

‘HUUURRRUUUSSSHHOOOOOOO!!!’

 

Lady Arabella sneezed lustily, bringing her gloved hands up in a vain attempt to muffle its roar. In the confined space of the stone passageway, the sound echoed in her ears, rolling out into the silence of the tomb like a dissipating wave. She fumbled in her pocket for the handkerchief she knew she had placed there earlier, knowing too well the effect that these dusty catacombs had on her sensitive nose.

 

‘Are you alright?’ Mark appeared at her side, the guttering torch he held aloft illuminating his face in dancing light and shadows. He gazed at Arabella with concern, as she rubbed her nose vigorously in the cotton folds of the handkerchief. Her eyes were still half-closed, a wrinkle forming on her forehead which grew as her mouth opened and…

 

‘HHHUUUUUURRRRRUUUUUSSHHOOOOOOO!!!’

 

…Arabella sneezed yet again, just managing to turn to the side with a force that bent her double and brought her head perilously close to the ornately decorated wall. Mark saw the glimmering particles of dust that filled the passageway drifting in about out of the torchlight, and knew exactly what was setting her off. He took her wrist and gently guided her onward, and she followed him, feet sliding through the sand that covered the floor.

 

‘There’s a larger chamber up ahead,’ he whispered. ‘Far less dust - you’ll see.’ 

 

Sure enough, the walls suddenly opened up and they found themselves under a high, vaulted ceiling, in a space that swallowed their meager light. Whispers rang back at them from the gloom, the slightest sound echoing a thousandfold. Lady Arabella still pressed her handkerchief beneath her twitching nostrils, but her eyes grew wide in wonder, the curiosity that had drawn her into this place undaunted by her blossoming allergy to dust. This is what she had come to see. Although she could still feel the devilish tickles running rampant inside her nose, she pointed at the elaborate hieroglyphs that adorned the nearest wall, flickering with a life of their own in the torchlight.

 

‘Tell me what they mean, they’re extraordinary,’ she managed to say, trying to keep the sneezy edge from her voice. The young archaeologist smiled back at her, his teeth white in the darkness, and the pair of them stared up in awe at the ancient script that spooled across the plaster.

 

*

 

Lady Arabella’s father, Lord Melville, renown industrialist and closet Egyptologist, had funded several expeditions throughout his lifetime, hunting for previously undiscovered tombs in the fabled Valley of the Kings. Since the death of his wife, he had been thrust into the role of sole parent for young Arabella, increasingly involving her in his business and hobbies, as much from necessity as from a genuine desire to further her horizons. And she had risen to the challenge like no other.

 

This expedition was no different in that respect, for his daughter, now a radiant twenty-three years old, had refused to be left in the depressingly mildewed family home in England and had insisted on accompanying her father on yet another jaunt into the desert. What had made this expedition different was that they had struck gold - in more ways than one. An undisturbed tomb, hidden beneath the desert sands for three millenia, had emerged from under their questing shovels.

 

Desperate to maintain a shroud of secrecy for the sites protection, Lord Melville had disbanded most of his crew, maintaining only a small cadre of trusted laborers and archeologists, such as Mark, to excavate, catalog and preserve the treasures that were emerging daily from the dust of centuries past.

 

Lady Arabella had been beside herself with excitement and repeatedly begged her father to be allowed into the tomb. Grudgingly, the old Lord had agreed that she could be given a tour once digging was finished for the day and the exhausted archaeologist Mark had been sent in to guide her…

 

*

 

Tired as he was, Mark was labouring through a tricky translation when he caught Lady Arabella’s head tilting swiftly backwards from the corner of his eye, her mouth falling open with a quick gasp before…

 

‘HUUURRRUUUSSHHHH…..HHUURRRUUUSSHHHHOOOO!!!’

 

…Arabella sneezed out a furious double, her glossy black curls shimmering in the weak flames of the torch. She had barely had time to turn her head from the delicate paintings, and Mark could only imagine the damage that the full blast of one of her sneezes could do to the desiccated artwork. 

 

‘My goodness,’ she whispered, again pressing her handkerchief to her nose. ‘All this dust in here will be the death of me. I simply can’t seem to stop sneezing.’

 

She fanned a hand in front of her face, as if to swat away the encroaching particles, yet seemingly only managed to agitate them further, so that within a few seconds her eyes were rolling back with the all-consuming itch. This one was truly enormous; roaring up from deep within her chest, full-bodied and unstoppable.

 

‘HUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRUUUUUSSSSSHHOOOOO!!!’

 

Arabella did not even attempt to cover it, instead just letting it erupt from her slim frame like a hurricane, with all the strength and fury that implied. She let fly a cloud of wind and wetness, and Mark winced as he saw it collide with the frescos and glisten dimly in the gloom. Hopefully some other excuse could be found, because he did not feel like being the one to explain to Lord Melville the reason for this damage.

 

‘And you can see in the center of the chamber,’ Mark changed the subject swiftly, pointing with the torch towards the hulking stone sarcophagus that occupied the central plinth. ‘The final resting place of the Pharaoh, until we er… we un-rested him.’ 

 

Arabella blew her nose mightily, trying to clear the omnipresent dust from her nostrils, although Mark knew this to be futile effort. She at least had turned from the irreplaceable paintings and now stood on tiptoe to peer into the empty belly of the sarcophagus that until recently had held the mummified remains of ancient Egyptian nobility.

 

‘How long haaaaa… AAAAH…..’ Arabella began, but the embryonic birth of a sneeze surprised her. She clutched the stone rim with both hands to steady herself as the sneeze began to build, her hitches becoming more and more desperate, head and shoulders leaning back as she succumbed to its power. ‘HAAAAAAA…..   HAAAAAAAAAAA…’

 

‘HHHUUUUURRRRUUUUUUUSSSHHHHOOOOOO!!!’

 

She catapulted forward, eyes screwed shut, nostrils flaring and sneezed full-force into the empty sarcophagus, a mighty scream that tore through the reverential quiet of the tomb. Dust undisturbed since the sealing of the chamber, cascaded from the ancient stones, shaken loose by the sheer volume of Arabella’s explosive sneeze. She gasped.

 

‘Oh my word, that seems to have cleared it,’ she said mischievously. For a moment, Mark considered whether she meant her nose or the sarcophagus which was now swept clean of dust and sand after Arabella’s explosive assault upon it. He blinked, brushing fallen plaster dust from his hair.

 

‘You were saying,’ Arabella said, sniffing sweetly. 

 

The End   

[muskysneeze]

oh wow this is amazing ❤️

[Chanel_no5]

That's an interesting scenario, I loved this fic! 

Also Evie is gorgeous (and her natural clumsiness would lend itself beautifully to dust allergies, wouldn't it? ) so I definitely would love to read a Mummy-fic as well if you have one in you!  

 

[Heven]

Wonderful as always, NoV!!!

[Hankyrick]

Great story I love it

[poiub]

Incredible, something about dust sneezes in a story just hits different. Amazing writing and her sneezes are just 👌

[Mysteriousmr]

Good thing there were no more mummies around to awaken, because her sneezes would have definitely done the job!

Love your stories btw.

[HPG]

Oh wow, that was incredible.