Adjusting Expectations

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and all that jazz.

Note: This is from Étoile's perspective again because exploring how her mind works is always fun and we saw very little of her during the series.

This is also an extension of that scene with Farangis from the last episode because I want to see them interact more. And I'm pretty sure Farangis ships these two as well. She is extremely perceptive and probably knows them better than they know themselves. Plus, they're both super obvious anyway.

This one-shot can stand on its own or serve as a prequel to "A Noble but Dangerous Habit."

Enjoy!

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She didn't know what to make of him.

What kind of prince behaved this way?

He walked among even the lowliest foot-soldiers, engaged them in casual conversation, and personally visited the injured to try and lift their spirits. He even tried to make jokes, much to the surprise of the awestruck soldiers.

He dressed very simply when he wasn't leading his army in a charge. Were it not for his distinctive appearance, his pale skin and silver hair, he could have been anyone in the camp. He could easily disappear in a crowd. And yet, despite his humble appearance, there was still something about him that gave one a sense that he was someone important.

She wondered how she had never noticed that before, after having met him several times already. Or perhaps, she had dismissed it as nothing since she had had her own preconceived notions of how Prince Arslan of Pars would look like.

But she knew now that all the stories she had heard circulating around the Lusitanian troops were exaggerations, fantasies encouraged by the higher powers in order to foster fear and hatred in the soldiers. Military propaganda that had been effective enough at the time.

Every now and then, he would catch her eye and smile at her, in that earnest, innocent way of his which annoyed her to no end, though she couldn't explain why. His relentless cheeriness disoriented her but she could not now return his attentions with hostility. That would be unjust. And Étoile, for all her harshness of manner (the result of having lived among soldiers for years), believed in justice.

For all his unusual habits, Arslan had still successfully led a military campaign and had taken over the Fort of San Emmanuel. He had forged alliances with other kingdoms, amassed a considerable army, and gained support and renown wherever he went. In such a short span of time, he had transformed from a runaway prince to a formidable leader.

She looked at him now and saw that though he was not much more than a boy, he already had the regal bearing of someone of a more advanced age. It had taken her time to see beyond her memories of him as the soft, spoiled boy she had met years ago. And there were times that she still couldn't reconcile the image of him as the well-meaning nobleman she had met with the crown prince of an enemy, heathen nation.

But she was getting there. Gradually, reluctantly, but she was beginning to see the real him. But the more she learned, the less she understood him, and the less she understood how she felt about him.

Before, everything had been clear and simple. He was the enemy and she was meant to hate him and everything he stood for. When he had helped her in Peshawar, she was forced to conceded that as far as Parsians went, he was not bad. And even after she discovered his true identity, she could not discount what he had already done.

And he had spared her life after she had attempted to kill him, as her duty had dictated. She wondered if that had anything to do with him having known her from before. But after observing him carefully, Étoile concluded that he would have done the same for anyone.

She could not forget his request for her to recite traditional prayers for the fallen Lusitanian soldiers. She had never heard of any leader who had done such a thing but after talking with some other members of Arslan's camp, she found out that he did this after every battle, paid his respects to all the fallen. She could not deny that this was an admirable feat, though unprecedented.

He had brought her food and visited her in her cell. He had allowed her freedom when any other sensible king would have simply executed her. Why hadn't he? But she was grateful. Confused and grateful.

He was too kind for his own good. But where once she had believed such unbridled kindness to be a weakness in an effective ruler, Étoile was beginning to question her own standards for a good king.

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The Lusitanian soldier developed some rapport with the lady Farangis, who often showed an interest in Étoile's welfare and engaged her in conversation. Étoile felt easy in Farangis' company and felt that she could ask the latter anything without being judged. She also greatly admired the priestess for both her formidable fighting skills and her wisdom.

They often had conversations about Prince Arslan and about their differing beliefs on the qualities of a good king. Étoile deferred to the priestess because of her wisdom and experience and the young soldier also showed that she was eager to learn more about the world. For her part, Farangis enjoyed conversing with Étoile, finding her blunt personality refreshing.

"You recoil from kindness," Farangis observed to the girl one day, "Have you known so little of it in your life?"

"I wouldn't say that," Étoile replied, "Though I've had a hard life, I've been lucky. Count Barcacion was always kind to me. And my men respected me. I haven't had much reason to complain."

"And yet you question the prince's displays of kindness to you and to others?" the priestess asked.

"He's too soft, people might take advantage of him," Étoile argued.

"That's true," Farangis conceded, "but he's not as gullible as you think he is. And he is surrounded by trusted friends and advisers who will make sure that no one takes advantage of him."

"But he still risks too much with his generosity," Étoile argued, "He's making it easier for his enemies to defeat him."

"The way I see it, he has constantly been surprising his enemies with his abilities," Farangis said.

"He is full of surprises," Étoile agreed, "but he still needs to be more careful."

Farangis gave her an amused look. "That almost sounded like you were concerned for Prince Arslan," the priestess teased.

Étoile blushed at this and vehemently denied any concern. "I was merely making an observation. You mustn't read too much into it."

"As you wish," Farangis replied calmly, noting that the girl continued to blush.

At length, the Lusitanian regained her composure and looked serious once more.

"He's just unlike any king I've ever known or heard of," Étoile said gravely.

"Perhaps that's a good thing," the priestess told her.

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Farangis was a perceptive woman. She had known from the beginning that there was a special connection between the prince and the fierce Lusitanian soldier. And as time passed, she observed their interactions with interest and even some amusement.

Prince Arslan was never very skilled at disguising his emotions so his partiality to Étoile was quite obvious. And though he was generally friendly to everyone he met, there was a particularity in the way he looked at and spoke to Étoile that did not go unnoticed by Farangis. It was clear that he wanted to get to know her better, and she wasn't exactly making it easy for him. But still he persevered.

And though Étoile appeared either indifferent or even hostile to the prince's attentions, Farangis knew better. She could see that the girl was trying to cover up her interest in the prince and that though she was reluctant about it, the more she learned about him, the more she admired him. And she was beginning to accept or even enjoy spending more time with him.

Farangis so no harm in encouraging this because she sensed that the Lusitanian girl meant a great deal to the young prince. She was curious to see where this would all lead to. Naturally, anything deeper that developed between them would have its complications later on but it was still early days.

Besides, we are living in a changing world, the priestess thought, one that, though they may not be aware of it, these two have already begun to shape.