DH AN: Okay so I have no idea how to explain this little Plot bunny other than it thwacked me on the head and would not leave me alone. It's not quite as important as a standalone, but will play a part in an upcoming fanfic I'm in the process of writing with my lovely coauthor Ataahua. This part as well as at least one more will occur in my alternate timeline. The first chapter will occur within a more canon context. Posting that chapter in conjunction with this one.

AN 2: Place in the Timeline: Approximately three weeks before Healing Presence.

Please enjoy the Prologue of Not As I Know Him.

Not As I Know Him: Prologue

I look out the window at the passing scenery when the phone in the outer pocket of my cloak vibrates. I don't even need to look to see who is calling. "How far are you from your destination, Sharti?"

"Within the half-hour, Sir."

"You have your tools?"

"Yes." I pause. "I'm not so wracked by nerves that I'd forget the things needed." I pull the roll holding an archaeologist's toolkit from my inner pocket; brushes, delicate picks, a handheld flashlight. Tools intended to give the impression that there was no tampering, that the item anyone was after, was still there.

"And you know what you are after?"

"Yes." A ritual knife tracked to a cavern and concealed well enough to necessitate the use of tools.

"And your hands?"

"Steadier than they have ever been."

"So you aren't nervous at all?"

"No more than you would expect… the first time doing anything is a little nerving."

"You have nothing to worry about, Dear One." I close my eyes and can see my father's smile as he pauses for a moment. "I wouldn't have chosen you otherwise." I exhale. "I expect success, is that understood?"

"Understood." The word comes out forced.

"I look forward to seeing the results of your venture." Again he pauses and I can picture the expression. "I just wanted to contact you before you arrived at your destination. I know you won't disappoint me."

"Of course I won't." I can't help a smile as I end the call and the car comes to a halt. It's early in the morning and the sun is just now peeking over the horizon. Harkin has been instructed to stop about two kilometers away from the cavern.

Harkin smiles. "You'll be fine, kid." I nod and exit the car.

I make my path toward that cavern; it's a straight shot. I'm relieved when I finally reach it. Despite the early time, dark clothing and heat don't make a good mix. The cavern is cool and the item I'm after is in an area that requires no change of direction. There's no need for the flashlight. I narrowly avoid tripping but I slam hard against the right wall, shake it off and keep going. I reach the chamber where the knife is kept. The retrieval should take fifteen minutes tops, alternating between the picks and the brushes in an area in the wall close to the floor should yield results. I flick on the flashlight and set it on the floor, set the roll of tools beside it and remove my cloak and fold it twice and set it where my knees will be.

I kneel, take the first pick and start prying at the corner. I breathe and make the movements match them, developing a rhythm to get the bottom loose. Slowly and steadily, I move along the right until the pick vibrates when it hits the original rock of the cavern. Releasing my grip on the tool, I breathe deeply to steady myself again.

I repeat the process going upward and once it reaches the integral rock, I grab a prying tool and proceed to pull the compartment to my left enough to get my hand into the compartment. I feel for the tell-tale shape of a knife, narrow and sturdy. I pull it out and place it across the roll of tools. My glance doesn't drift to my spoils, rather it stays on the pried brick that I have to replace. Pulling a jar of vulcanized rubber cement out of my pants pocket, I set to sealing the edges that I had pried loose. When the stuff dries, the area will look almost like when I found it. I take one of the small paint brushes and dip it into the rubber cement and sweep it across the bottom of the section; the process picks up a small amount of the sand that I tracked in upon arrival. Again, that helps make the façade convincing. I brush two coats of the mix at the bottom and the side.

I pocket the jar after replacing the cap and then wrap the ritual knife in the center of the cushioned roll of tools. I get on my feet, pull my cloak and unfold it to pull it close around me. Stuffing the flashlight and tools into the inner pocket, I fasten the hooks and rise to my full height. I stumble through the path I entered, merely focused on the point of light at the end. I bump into the same spot and halt, fear stopping me cold as I hear the hollow sound of a wooden support beam hitting the floor. Before I can move, the beam across the ceiling falls and slams into my back. It's heavier steel. I'm knocked off balance and hit my head near where the floor and the cavern wall meet, landing on my back. I breathe heavily. I can't move, and I panic as my vision starts to blur and everything fades.

DH: Again, the first chapter is also posted. Thanks for reading.