Summary: Dipper just wanted to have an evening of monster hunting, not to accidentally travel space and time and have a pharaoh demand his hand in marriage.

Pairing: Billdip and Dipeon (both one-sided)

A Twisted Time Part 2

No.

Nearly choking on the water still in his mouth, Dipper shot to his feet, dropped the goblet, and sprinted.

Absolutely not.

He scrambled deeper into the oasis, the shouts of Imhotep and the guards following him.

He would not marry Bill.

His foot snagged on a protruding stone and he flew through the air. His arms smacked the sandy soil and he skidded forwards, scraping his arms. He slowed to a stop just as his hands dipped into water. He groaned. Running in a oasis, where there was a lot of foliage on the ground, was a bad idea.

He spat out sand and pushed himself to his knees, wiping his damp palms on the robe. He looked up to see a pond…

…and a ton of faces staring at him.

Dipper swallowed harshly. Oh gosh, so many eyes watching him. Stiffly, the teen stood.

"Um…" he began, fidgeting with his hat that had somehow stayed on. "Hello?"

Coarse hands thudded onto his shoulder and he yelped when those same hands dragged him backwards. He craned his neck to see one of his previous guards. He cursed.

"Let me go!" He ordered and fought against the hold.

He was not marrying the pharaoh! He'd escape and find the sphinx and they'd never be able to find him!

The guard looped an arm around his waist and hefted him off the ground. Dipper struggled wildly as the bigger man tucked him beneath an arm and toted him back to the palace. All the while, Dipper kicked and pounded his fists against the man and demanded he be released. Nonetheless, the guard ignored his protests with ease.

Too soon, the man carried him up the steps where none other than Bill waited with a scowl. In light of his horrible evening, Dipper shot the pharaoh a death stare.

The teen spat out a curse and tacked on. "I'm not marrying you."

Bill waved his hand and pivoted, striding into the palace. Dipper yelled and writhed but the guard wouldn't set him free and Bill pointedly ignored the frustrated shouts. Dipper knew his voice would become raw and hoarse, but he was past the point of caring. He did not want to marry some stranger he just met and if they were going to force him then he was going to fight.

Bill projected his voice over Dipper's own and the guard finally released his prisoner. Dipper dropped to the ground and pushed himself to his feet, glaring heatedly at the pharaoh.

The Egyptian directed his attention to the guard and spoke in short order. The guard nodded and strode out of the room, footsteps echoing on the clay floors. Once the footfalls faded, Bill whirled on Dipper.

The young man burst into a flurry of exclamations and Dipper recoiled but caught onto the pharaoh's scolding.

Dipper's cheeks burned and he curled his fists. How dare his kidnapper reprimand him for rightfully seeking his freedom!

The teen flew up his hands "You're a dickwad!"

Bill jerked away before narrowing his eyes and raising his voice. Sensing the man had a few colorful words to say too, Dipper upped the ante and started swearing, all the while flailing his hands in agitation.

"I didn't ask for this!" He bulldozed over the pharaoh's own voice, his voice straining. "I don't want this! This is not happening! I'm going home and you can't stop me!"

The teen spun on his heel and stormed down the massive hall lit by torches. A hand thudded on his shoulder, clenching tightly, and spun him around. He staggered, his head still spinning. Another hand clamped onto his other shoulder and the pharaoh shook him, yelling.

Dipper growled. "Get your hands off of me, you jerk!"

He slipped his arms between the man's and shoved outwards, effectively removing the pharaoh's hands. Quickly, he pivoted and broke into a sprint.

Sandals clapping against the floor, another set joined the sound. Dipper cursed. Couldn't the dumb jerk realize when an advance was unwanted? The prick apparently thought he was a god! Didn't the dummy realize he could be smited into smithereens for his insolence and disrespect or something? Arghh!

Bill's unfortunately familiar commanding voice reverberated in the room and soon the thudding of footfalls entered the room. Dipper slid to a halt, eyes wide.

"No…" he breathed.

From the shadows into the dim light of the torches, guards so many guards, marched into view. How did so many appear? Why were there so many? Did the pharaoh change his mind about the marriage and decided to just kill him instead?

Hope drained like the color fading from his face. The pharaoh ordered a command and the guards encircled the wide eyed teen. Heart hammering, Dipper retreated a step only to feel hands close around his upper arms and drag him into a bare chest. He squirmed.

"Let me go!" He pulled against the hold.

The rest of the guards surrounded him and the man holding him in place. Between the dimly lit bodies, Dipper could just barely see the pharaoh's unreadable stare. The man lifted his chin, rolled his shoulders back, and swept out an arm. He issued a command and the guards obeyed.

The teen wriggled as he was dragged forwards. "No!" He protested.

In a last ditch effort, he sought for the pharaoh's gaze but the bodies shifted too fast and he was dragged deeper into the dark halls.

~oOo~

As time wore on, Dipper's struggles faded and he fought to just stay awake. He stifled a yawn. Just how big was the palace and…was that music?

Dipper perked as the guards halted before twin massive doors. Two men marched forwards and pulled open the doors and the fast paced music hit him like a wave. Fire roared in the middle of the giant room, casting flickering shadows on the dancers shifting fluidly about the room.

Dipper blinked, transfixed by the sight as the guards led him deeper into the room.

Pipes and flutes played, leading the melody. Sea-shelled castanets clicked rapidly to the fast paced beat. String instruments plucked with the rhythm, and a sistrum jangled in time to the steady tambourine.

Women and men alike weaved through the cheering crowd, but in the center of the room, surrounding the fire, were the dancers that caught Dipper's focus.

Sitting in front of the flames atop a cushioned mat with his back straight and gaze zeroed on Dipper's own, rested the grinning pharaoh. Around the man danced what Dipper assumed to be belly dancers. The women, garbed in vibrant colors of loose linen skirt and bra and bedazzled with jewels, flowed their bodies to the rhythm of the music.

The dancers, always in motion, moved in sync as they twisted their hips and torso in time to the beat. They shimmied and shivered, fluidly bending their arms to accentuate gestures. They flicked their heads and bent their backs with expertise crafted from constant practice.

Completely forgetting about the jerk that kept him trapped in the palace, Dipper stared at the dancers, awestruck and overwhelmed. Well, damn. Egyptian parties were an art form.

Unbeknownst to Dipper or the party attendants, the pharaoh inwardly pouted. His soon to be groom was paying the party more attention than the pharaoh himself!

Dipper swiveled his gaze about the hieroglyphic inscribed room. He breathed in the sharp tang of incense and shifted his gaze onto a table piled high with food. He stared and his stomach growled. Oh…how long had it been since he'd last eaten?

Transfixed by the sight of bread and vegetables, Dipper slipped out of the guard's loose grip and wandered to the table, the guards at his side. The crowd parted for him, several eyes staring, but he barely noticed, eyes set on the food. He reached for some pita bread.

A bronze hand slapped away his white one. He jerked his offended gaze up to meet the pharaoh's own narrowed stare. Dipper scowled and swiped the bread. The jerk could suck it.

With their back to the crowd, Dipper blinked when he saw the pharaoh most definitely pout. That couldn't be a frown. The pharaoh was definitely pouting.

Dipper chuckled. The prick deserved whatever slight he had perceived.

Grinning and feeling his mischievous side rise, Dipper slowly bit into the bread. He made sure to add a pleased hum for extra seasoning of spite against the man. Oh wait, wow, the bread was pretty damn good!

Forgetting to continue his passive aggressive revenge against Bill, Dipper hurriedly stuffed his face and grabbed another piece of bread. Just before he could poof his cheeks with that piece of bread, Bill grasped his wrist with an amused glint to his eyes.

Dipper rolled his eyes and used his other hand to grab more bread. He then proceeded to shove the food into his mouth. Bill frowned.

The teen positively beamed. Serves the jerk right!

Rolling his own eyes, Bill dragged Dipper away from the table and led him to the fire, the guards following behind them. Dipper recoiled, paranoia flaring. The prick was gonna shove him into the flames!

Instead of doing just that, Bill sat Dipper down onto a cushioned mat beside the pharaoh's own mat. Dipper blinked. Oh. He hadn't seen that there were two mats before…

Inhaling and munching on the bread, Dipper cast his gaze about the lively room as the pharaoh sat beside him. A servant approached the two with twin goblets and Dipper gladly accepted the drink. Only, the moment he took a swig, he paused. Huh, black tea rather than water or beer. Who knew?

Shrugging because the drink tasted good anyway and he was thirsty, Dipper downed the drink. Bill laughed beside him and issued a command to the servant. The servant left and Dipper yelped when he felt warmth wrap around his waist, tugging him close.

The teen scowled and pushed back against Bill's hold but the man just laughed and held him tighter. Dipper growled out a protest but after a quick scan of his surroundings, he sighed. A man physically stronger than him pinned him in a side hug, guards hovered around the two, and to even get to the doors he'd have to shove his way through a massive crowd.

Looks like he wouldn't be escaping that night.

His eyes slipped closed.

~oOo~

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Egypt at a core trade center, met two merchants at a stall.

The man with a brown complexion, sitting atop a camel, idly observed the black merchant's wares.

"My pharaoh will be marrying a god tomorrow." The brown man noted, and lazily shifted his gaze from a wooden bow to reach into the bags saddled to the camel.

"Is that so?" The black merchant returned, watching with equally feigned disinterest.

"Yes." He grasped a clay vase. "This for the bow?"

"Agreed." The merchant accepted the pottery and offered the bow. "King Gleeful will not be pleased."

He hummed. "Perhaps Nubia could use the luck of a god."

The merchant grinned. "Perhaps it could."

~oOo~

"Dipper."

The teen groaned, eyes shut tight. Why was the world shaking?

"Dipper."

Urghh. Why did that voice sound familiar? Blearily, he opened his eyes.

"Dipper!"

Promptly, he paled.

"Bill!" His voice dropped in disappointment. "I'm still here…"

The pharaoh grinned and Dipper took a moment to realize that the man was bare chested because he didn't have his robe on.

Face flaming a rosy hue, Dipper jerked away. He recoiled too far and tumbled out of the blankets and off the bed. He crashed to the floor and the jerk had the nerve to laugh.

"Urghhhh…" Dipper groaned, face smushed against the cool floor. "I hate you so much."

The pharaoh chirped a response and clambered out of the bed. Hearing the rustling of fabric, Dipper's cheeks burned and he turned away from the man.

"Dipper." The man added a few more words.

The teen refused to look at the surely nude man because if the prick wasn't wearing his robe, then he might not be wearing anything else!

"Diiii-per." Bill called.

Dipper shook his head. "Nope. Not turning around."

Bill scoffed and shifted about the room. Abruptly, the man jumped in front of him and Dipper stifled a scream.

Oh, wait.

The guy was indeed wearing clothes.

Sending a stink eye at the laughing prick who currently was dressed in just a shendyt, he shifted his gaze onto what the pharaoh held in his hands.

Dipper huffed. "No. We're not going through this–"

Bill rolled his eyes and shoved the pile of fabric into Dipper's hands.

"–again." Dipper sighed. "You took my hat again too, didn't you?"

Figuring that the man had indeed hid the hat or put it out of reach, Dipper accepted the clothing. Great. This time the robe was another silky white. Dipper thinned his lips, stood, and ushered the grinning Bill out of the room.

Once the doors closed, he unfolded the fabric. "Great…" He heaved another sigh. "Just great."

He changed into the robe and opened the door. Bill took the worn robe and handed it to one of the stationed guards. Bill guided Dipper to the same table from yesterday and Dipper shot a glare at the man. There, resting innocently on the far end of the table and bedazzled with plumage, sat his beaten up old hat.

"Did you really have to stab my hat with feathers? C'mon!"

Bill just hummed and picked up an arm band. Dipper rolled his eyes but complied. He wouldn't be getting his hat back until he was all dolled up, apparently.

By the time the jewels were all on him once again, and his hat was securely on his head, the pharaoh led him out of the room and the stationary guards shifted into motion. Soon several more guards joined them as they walked until they were completely surrounded. And in Dipper's case, trapped.

The teen gritted his teeth. How was he going to get out of this? He rubbed his arm as he followed Bill's lead to what appeared to be a temple. Standing in front of the temple were a massive amount of people.

Dipper swallowed harshly, stomach churning and mind whirring. Temple. People. Feather in his hat that wasn't there yesterday.

This was it.

He was marrying Bill.

The teen shuddered as the pharaoh looped an arm around his own and led him through the parted crowd and up the temple steps. The guards halted at the bottom of the stairs and together Bill and Dipper walked alone in the blistering sun.

They arrived at the top to find a man in a white linen shendyt and jewels. Dipper bit his lip. From what he had read of Egyptian culture, then this man was the priest who would marry the two.

The man held a flat paper length stone and what appeared to be a sharp arrowhead. Maybe the priest would use the sharp stone to write on the flat stone?

Curiosity peaking as they neared, Dipper rose onto his ip toes to peer at the flat stone. Neatly drawn hieroglyphics covered the surface save for the untouched surface near the bottom of the rock.

Bill tugged on Dipper's arm until the teen shifted to face the man, the priest standing nearly between them.

The priest spoke a few words, projecting his voice so the people at the bottom of the steps could hear. When the man finished, Bill added a few more words and Dipper stiffened when all eyes turned expectantly to him.

"Um…" Sensing the gist of what they were expecting but still not on board with the premise, Dipper stated. "I don't?"

Clearly not understanding his rejection, the crowd cheered and Bill grinned with shark's teeth. Dipper scowled and the jerk just stretched his smile. The priest hurriedly etched a few words and raised the stone. Dipper turned to look at the stone and blinked.

Inscribed on the rock was the hieroglyphs for Bill's name followed by Dipper's name written in English. Huh. When did the man learn how to write his name? From Imhotep, maybe?

Still, the crowd cheered and Dipper's stomach sank.

Where was a sphinx when he needed one?

~oOo~

The next day rolled around to find Dipper, once again, being dragged around the palace by an entirely too enthusiastic Bill. The pharaoh chattered excitedly, his arm hooked securely around Dipper's own. The teen rolled his eyes as the man waved his free arm about the room, showing off the palace golden sights.

Dipper nodded along, eyes often scanning each room for a possible escape.

"Dipper!" Bill called, spinning the startled teen. "Dipper!"

"Yeah, yeah, you know my name." Dipper sighed exasperatedly as he spun to a stop, staggering slightly. "Now would you calm down? It's too hot to be jumping around."

"Dipper!" Bill cheered. "Dipper Dipper Dipper!"

Dipper fought down an amused smile. He didn't want to encourage the guy.

"Alright, alright, what do you–"

A guard rushed into the room, shouting something in Egyptian, and Bill snapped from his playful energy to stern authority. The pharaoh pitched his voice to declare an order and the guard nodded, sprinting away. Bill pivoted, tightening his grip on Dipper's arm, and stormed down the hall. Dipper's stomach churned.

Bill looked downright furious.

Dipper struggled to follow after the man's strong strides. They crossed the hall in seconds and arrived at a pair of large doors where a pair of stationed guards stood. The pharaoh shoved Dipper into one of the guard's arms and issued a command. Bill shifted to the second man and delivered another demand.

The guards nodded, one rushing away while the other dragged Dipper through the doors. Dipper watched Bill's narrowed face soften as their gazes met, and then the doors clicked shut.

Soon, several more men appeared and surrounded Dipper and the guard holding him. They wound through the palace until Dipper started to vaguely recognize the area to be near the pharaoh's chamber. Sure enough, the arrived at Bill's quarters and the guards pushed Dipper through the wooden doors.

The jackals bounced around his feet as the doors closed behind him, the guards apparently guarding the door.

Whatever had happened was bad. Very, very, bad.

Although he didn't know what had happened, he knew there wasn't a chance he'd be able to sneak out the room. There were too many guards blocking the door and whatever threat had appeared certainly wouldn't be able to get through Bill's army that was soon to be stationed outside the room. After all, someone who was assumed to be a god was a treasure to protect, and the Egyptians apparently thought he was one.

He heaved a sigh and moved from the door to sit on the bed. Immediately, the puppies jumped onto the bed and clambered onto his lap. He chuckled and slid his hand through their soft black fur.

The door creaked open.

Dipper perked as a familiar man stepped into the room, holding a flat stone and utensil similar to the ones the priest had used the other day.

"Imhotep." Dipper greeted with a nod.

"Dipper." The man returned.

"So another language lesson, I guess?"

The man, apparently understanding what Dipper must be curious about, nodded and sat cross legged on the floor. The teen gently pushed the puppies off his lap and slid to the floor as well, sitting beside his teacher.

They shifted through the motions like during their first lesson until Dipper caught on.

"Wait…" he paused. "You mean to tell me the neighboring country of Nubia is invading Egypt right now? And," his voice squeaked, "and they're after me?"

One guy wanting to keep him was enough, but another one?

Dipper stiffened when he heard a commotion outside the room. Were the invaders already at the door? Could the Egyptian guards fend them off? How much blood would paint the day? He straightened when he heard rustling behind them followed by a pair of dull thuds. Someone cleared their throat.

Slowly, Dipper turned.

A man with a deep and dark complexion, framed by the window, aimed an arrow at the student and teacher. The teen swallowed harshly.

"Nubian?" Dipper questioned.

Imhotep stepped in front of him. "Nubian." He answered.

The teen bit his lip and grasped his arm as more black skinned soldiers clambered out of the window and piled into the room, each taking a fighting stance with arrows drawn. He stepped closer to the only familiar man in the room.

And then a young man, dazzled in jewels with a bow and filled quiver slung across his back, strode forwards through the crowd. Dipper stared at the man's richly colored face and poofy brown hair, somehow styled to rise to the sky. How did the guy manage to poof his hair like that?

Priorities. Where were they? For all he knew, he was about to be killed or kidnapped! Again. Great.

The man, clearly the leader, announced in what Dipper could only assume to be Nubian. Imhotep pressed his back against Dipper's torso, as if that would protect the teen more, and replied in Egyptian.

The Nubian king raised a brow and shifted his gaze from Imhotep to Dipper. His uninterested stare sparked with interest the moment he spotted the teen peering around the Egyptian's bulk.

The stranger spoke and Dipper blinked. Did he just switch to Egyptian? Dipper frowned. well it would make sense if the man was fluent in the language of the neighboring country. Besides, didn't the two countries trade with one another despite their rivalry? Dipper shook his head. Whoo, he really needed to stop zoning out.

The Nubian king straightened, deepened his high pitched voice, and swept an arm.

Promptly, an arrow whizzed through the air.

Imhotep screamed.

Dipper gasped, eyes shot wide, as his mentor crumbled to the floor with blood pooling from the his chest. Dipper made to drop to the floor but the Nubian king himself snatched his arm and dragged him away from the wheezing Egyptian.

Fearing for his life and still in shock after just watching a man be shot by an arrow, Dipper numbly let the king yank him into the crowd of soldiers. The king manhandled him until he was tucked and tied securely into the crook of an arm, and then the man climbed out the window and scaled down the palace walls.

Dipper's stomach churned and he resisted the urge to struggle. Although Dipper's torso was bound to the king's waist by rope, the man wasn't secured to anything. There was a chance that if he struggled, the king and he would fall off the wall and from this height…? Well they'd go splat!

Heart lodged in his throat, Dipper tried to remain as still as possible as they descended. Not soon enough, the king's feet touched sand and Dipper started to squirm.

Ignoring his struggles, the taller man just straightened, patted the teen's back with his free hand and darted off, his soldiers at his heels. Though several Egyptians appeared to block their way, the Nubians fended them off with well aimed arrows, but quite a few Egyptians managed to dodge the arrows and stab some of the soldiers with spears. Blood from both sides was spilled.

Dipper felt sick.

So much blood and so many deaths.

All because they wanted him.

He bit his lip, looking away as the Nubians barreled through the Egyptian ranks. What could he do? There had to be a way to stop the two countries from fighting! But to do that, he'd need to leave–which he planned to do anyway–or maybe… He wracked his mind for a solution as the Nubians sprinted across the desert sands.

What could he do?

He was shaken from his concentration when the rope around his torso loosened and hands hooked beneath his arms. The Nubian king lifted the startled teen into the air and saddled him atop a camel.

Dipper blinked. Whoa. Where'd all the camels come from?

The animal glanced at him and snorted, rearing back its head, and spat spit on the sand. Dipper cringed. He definitely wasn't fond of this one.

The king laughed and launched himself atop the camel and, oddly enough, behind the teen. The man grasped the camel's reins fashioned out of rope and in the process, kept Dipper pinned between his arms. The teen thinned his lips, shifting uncomfortably in the stranger's hold.

"Hut-hut!" The king commanded and the camel broke into a trot.

The soldiers leapt atop their respective camels and followed suit, following their leader.

Dipper sighed.

He was in for a long ride.

~oOo~

Apparently, he was also in for another wedding.

Dipper eyed the beautiful henna decorating his forearms. He'd been stuffed into yet another white robe with only minor differences such as longer sleeves. Each accessory had been replaced, but the jewelry looked pretty much the same to the teen.

Regardless of his new attire, he was in for a whirl of trouble.

"Dipper!" The Nubian king called voice clearly impatient.

The teen sighed. Once again, the lone window was too high up to escape out of and the lone exit was barricaded by Nubian guards. He almost wanted to laugh at the mirroring events…if it weren't for the fact that Nubian king had a shorter temper than the pharaoh.

"Hold on Gideon!" He returned.

They'd gone through the introductions of a hand against the chest, and now they were going through the motions of getting married…again.

Dipper brushed a hand through his hair and opened the doors. The Nubian king's scowl morphed into a gleeful grin. Dipper shuddered. He did not like that smile.

The man spoke in rapid Egyptian and grasped Dipper's forearm, dragging him down the palace hall and soon out into the sunlight. Dipper squinted against the light.

Gideon yanked him along, down the stairs and soon onto a camel. Dipper could only assume they were going to a temple. Again.

"Dipper!"

The teen froze. That…that couldn't be.

Slowly, he turned. "Bill?"

His eyes blew wide when Gideon spat out Egyptian and ripped the bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. Bill himself stood not too far away, wielding a spear, and looking downright murderous. The king and pharaoh exchanged heated sneers.

Dipper made to clamber off the camel but a sharp glare from Gideon kept him in place. Maybe he didn't want to get involved between two jerks holding lethal objects.

The two readied their objects and Dipper bit his lip. He should intervene. But would they listen to him? He grasped his arm as the two neared one another. Could he just idly stand by while one, or even both, of them died?

No.

"Stop!" He flung out his arms and jumped off the camel, wincing as the momentum from the landing shot up his legs.

He was not watching someone else die tonight.

Resolve set, Dipper tackled the man closest to him: Gideon. Taken off guard, Dipper barely managed to wrestle the bow free of the man's grip before untangling himself and hurling the bow out of reach.

Bill grinned upon realizing Dipper was running towards him. He stretched out his arms for a hug or something and Dipper seized the chance. He snatched Bill's spear, shoved him to the ground, and rushed to the ground between the two.

He had an idea.

Gideon could speak Egyptian. But could he also read Egyptian?

Hastily, he upended the spear and stabbed the ground, hurriedly scribbling the familiar hieroglyphics. Too stunned to remember beating each other up, Bill and Gideon stood and wandered over, watching Dipper work.

Soon Dipper had scribbled out the desired words, looked at Bill and then swiveled a stern gaze to Gideon. He cleared his throat, tapped the ground with the spear, and then pointed at Bill followed by pointing at Gideon.

Understanding dawned on the men's faces and their expressions scrunched.

They shook their heads stubbornly but Dipper persisted.

Marriages were often made to resolve tensions between lands, weren't they? And if the two men had no problem marrying a male then they should have no problem marrying each other! Never mind the fact they clearly hated each other's guts.

But hey, they thought he was a god, didn't they? Maybe they could assume that was his job all along–to unite the rivaling countries.

As the two men started a heated argument with Dipper, the teen rolled his eyes. His decision was final and if they didn't like it then they could just–

His eyes widened.

There, not too far away and watching the proceedings with a tilted head, was the sphinx.

Dipper dropped the spear and sprinted. Spotting him, the creature's eyes shot wide but before the feline could poof away he flung himself at the animal and hung on tight.

"Take me home!" He shouted, a borderline plea.

And they poofed away.

~oOo~

"…and that's how I got a sunburn and these weird clothes."

"I dunno, bro-bro, they still look like a costume to me."

"Mabel." Dipper heaved a sigh and sank further into the couch. "I was gone for days. Where do you–"

"Hours." His sibling corrected, sitting on the arm chair.

"What?"

Mabel grasped the bottom of her socked feet and kicked her legs like she used to when she was a child. "You've only been gone for a few hours."

"But that's not…how's that…"

His sibling rolled her eyes. "You sure you haven't raided my stash of Smile Dip?"

He spluttered. "No."

She grinned and hopped off her perch. "Good! And, bro-bro? You're talking about time travel."

"Which we've done before–"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved a hand. "But doesn't that just mean that while you were technically gone a few days, you time traveled back to not long after you left. You got lucky, bro-bro."

"Wait, so you believe me?"

She scoffed. "Of course I do! Can't you tell when I'm teasing?"

He sank into the chair. "I've been dragged from one country to another, married in the blistering sun, and haven't eaten anything in what feels like days. Can't you cut me some slack?"

She blew him a raspberry. "I still can't believe got married before me! That's so unfair!"

"Mabel!" He whined. "Where's the sympathy?"

She laughed and exited the room "In Egypt!"

He huffed and crossed his arms. What a unsympathetic meanie.

Still… Absently, he shifted his gaze to the peeling ceiling.

What happened after he left?

~oOo~

"Dipper!" Bill and Gideon called, outstretching a hand.

Too late, their groom and the sphinx vanished. Together, the leaders sighed and shifted their gaze onto the sand.

Bill shifted his weight onto one leg. "So. Marriage."

Gideon studied the writing and sighed. "A god's will, it seems."

The pharaoh scrunched his face. "I hate to say it…but perhaps that was the whole purpose of his visit, to unite our countries."

"Perhaps so." The Nubian king agreed.

"Then it seems we need to prepare the festivities."

"Indeed."

Inwardly, the pharaoh and king cringed. They had to marry their rival?

Dipper sucked.

Fin