Okay, welcome, guys to my second one-shot! This one is dedicated to Nothingfeelsgood for being the first reviewer on my second chapter story, Alamutian Empire.
Little bit of background, this one has no fluff, I am sorry. This one-shot is all about Dastan meeting Tus and Garsiv for the first time and his reaction to living in riches. This has no ties to any other story - just purely a one-shot.
Hope you like it! And please leave a review on your way out! God know how great it is to see those welcoming me when I get into my inbox.
Dastan bounced up and down on the beast, the king's brother's arms wrapped around him to keep him from falling off. He looked down at the galloping animal underneath him, his eyes meeting nothing but adornments. It was a lovely horse, he supposed, but the young boy had not spent much time around stables let alone horses to know what a good horse really was. Though he had to assume that since the horse was apparently good enough for royalty, it must be a very talented and prized horse.
"I think you are going to like the palace," the man behind him said kindly, whispering in his ear. Dastan turned his head slightly to the voice, meeting the eyes of His Lordship, Nizam. They were dark, but kind and welcoming, but somewhere inside Dastan, he felt almost as if there was something other than generosity in his words and dark orbs. But surely, that was nonsense. The two lords of Persia had been known to be the most fair and most wonderful people in the country. They lived off of trust from the other, and were always there for the other.
The young boy gulped, his heart pounding as they neared the palace. Tall, majestic turquoise domes covered the sandstone bricks, making the palace look round, but still foreboding.
Never before had Dastan ever imagined that he would be this close to the palace. He had always seen it from afar, always being left to wonder what kind of life its inhabitants led. Even the servants, Dastan had once thought, would be treated with nothing but care and riches.
He figured that that would be the occupation he would have during his stay at the palace. He would be a servant to the king, his brother, and the two sons the king had had.
Dastan wasn't sure how to think regarding that thought. He had already come to the conclusion that the servants there would live rather well off, and being that they would be serving the king of Persia and his family, would only be a further incentice to succumb to the lie of a servant. They would not treat their servants too horribly, he knew.
However, Dastan did not want to be a servant. He wanted to be a little boy who got to play and do whatever he pleased. Rules had never been things that Dastan was good with, and now, he would have a curfew, rules to live by, dishes to clean, meals to cook, beds to make, and royal backs to bathe. That would not be the life he wanted to live, regardless of the pay, (which he figured to be rather low, seeing as he was indeed, a child).
Slowly, the small scouts came to a stop in front of the palace, the king dismounting and walking back to the horse that Dastan was seated on. Nizam slif off easily, already turning to the rest of the troops with them to dismount and clean the horses and do what needed to be done in their concern.
King Sharaman walked slowly and diliberately to Dastan, who sat in the saddle, petrified with fear. Judgment. What if he was not a satisfying servant? What would happen to him? Would they kill him if he did not do as they wanted?
"Dastan, I believe you said, child?" the king said gently, taking hold of Dastan's knee gently. Dastan only nodded, his head hung low. "Whatever is the matter, child?" the kind pressed, raising Dastan's chin to force the young boy to look at him.
He murmured, "I suppose now would be the time you tell me what station I am required to serve at, Your Majesty."
"What station? Boy, what are you talking about? Surely, you did not think that I plucked you from the streets to make you my servant?" he questioned, the cheeks of the little boy growing warm and pink in response. "Oh, child!" the king exclaimed. "You are a boy who needs to live as a young boy! Not as a servant. You are to live in my house, with my family, as my son," the king said softly, grabbing Dastan under the arms to lift him and put him back down on the ground.
Dastan looked curiously up at the king, who was soon joined by Nizam. "As your son?" he mused. "But I am not of royal blood! I am not a prince!"
The two older men chuckled. "Of course you aren't," Sharaman said easily. "But that is just what we are going to make you. A Prince of Persia."
Dastan stood there for a moment, pondering over those words. Him? A prince? Eating large meals every day? Having a warm bed to sleep in every night? Having a family to cherish? It did not sound like something that would be hard to accept, but what if...what if the other princes did not like him. He had heard that the younger one, Garsiv, had been quite fiesty.
"A prince?" Dastan question, putting his own thoughts out and into the open.
"But of course!" The king exclaimed happily. "I can already tell that you have the makings of a wonderful prince, thinking back on your actions earlier today," he continued calmly, Dastan blushing further.
Just then, two young boys came running out of the palace, colliding with the two older men in joy. One had short dirty blond hair, and the other's was black as night itself. The one with the darker hair was holding close to his uncle, telling him all about his day and the adventures that he had had during his uncle's absence. Nizam laughed at his antics, patting his nephew's head in approval before pulling out a kiwi and handing it to the prince, who took it happily and bit into it, juices beginning to trickle down his chin.
The other was proudly telling his father all about his own day. "Garsiv wanted to sneak into the kitchens, but I told him 'no' Father, because I know that we aren't allowed to." The king laughed happily and ruffled his son's hair.
"You weren't supposed to tell on me!" the other child exclaimed angrily, already beginning to leap at his brother to tackle him to the ground, but the king quickly caught the child and held him up, casting a warm glance at Dastan who felt more than uncomfortable.
"Boys, you can carry on with your antics later, but for the moment, look here," the king said calmly, gesturing to Dastan.
The black haired one walked up curiously but happy. "Hi!" he said excitedly. "What's your name? My name is Garsiv. And I might get to be a king someday," the boy said proudly, holding his hands on his hips and looking up.
Dastan looked down and shuffled his feet. He wasn't going to get to be a king. What could these two boys find interesting about him? He was nothing, regardless of the welcome the king had presented to him. "Hello," he murmured quietly.
The other child walked up to him and bent over to look him in the face carefully, so close that Dastan even shrinked back at the closeness. "You're kind of quiet, aren't you?" he asked. "That's okay. I used to be quiet too. My name is Tus," the child said calmly before pulling back and holding his hand out for Dastan to shake.
"I-I'm Dastan," he said nervously, avoiding their eyes. He reached out and shook Tus's hand and then pulled it back quickly.
"Are you here to play with us?" Garsiv asked excitedly.
"Boys, listen," the king said carefully. "Dastan is going to be able to play with you, but he is also going to be...a brother."
"You're going to be our brother!" Garsiv exclaimed happily. "We get to have another brother, Tus! Three brothers! Oh, we are going to be best friends!"
"Garsiv, you are scaring him," Tus chastised. "Don't mind him," he said, shrugging. "He loves himself a lot."
Dastan chuckled anxiously, though finally gained the courage to look up into their eyes. Garsiv was bouncing up and down with excitement, and Tus was smiling happily.
"Father, you get to have another son!" Garsiv continued.
The king nodded happily, and Dastan smiled.
"And you are going to have another nephew, Uncle!" he said, Nizam laughing at the young boy, reaching out to ruffle his black mane. Garsiv then turned back to Dastan, who was still rather silent, but feeling more calm. "Do you want to come play with us?"
Dastan looked at the king, who smiled encouragingly and nodded. Dastan looked back at his new brothers and nodded, both of them looking ecstatic.
"Okay, come on, Dastan!" Garsiv said, grabbing the newest prince's hand and tugging him along, Tus following proudly.
Okay, so there it is! I hope that you liked it, Nothingfeelsgood! I enjoyed writing it, and I sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading it. The kid versions of these guys are so cute! Or at least in my imagination, they are.
Remember to leave a review on the way out, telling me how I did! That is very important!
Love you all lots!