A/N: I translated this from my original work (written in Italian), so be aware of possible grammar mistakes. Suggestions and advices are welcomed!

BE AWARE OF SPOILERS!

Hi everyone!

Allow me to say just a few words.

I'm in love with Arslan Senki and if you follow me on tumblr ( cool-kiara-love) you probably know that my absolute favorite characters are Arslan and Étoile (or Estelle, if you want to go by her real name), both as single characters and as a couple.

Not being able to resist, I wandered through the 'arslan senki spoilers' tag and I found out about Étoile's destiny in the original novel. At first I was highly disappointed and that's why I wrote fanfictions such as "Life" and "The King is back".

As time passed, however, I started accepting the original version. Anyway, there's still one thing that keeps bothering me: I hoped Arslan and Étoile had the chance to develop what had started to bloom before that happened.

So here I am, writing a fanfiction to give an alternate development to their story, describing how things could have gone if they had the chance to spend more time together.

Of course this is just my personal point of view, my humble version of the events.

(since I can't read the original novel because of language issues, probably there will be some discrepancies. I'll try to make it as "realistic" as possible!)

Pars Era

325

Royal Capital of Ecbatana

The sun almost touched the horizon, similar to an immense amber pearl balanced on the outer earth's limit. The warm light of the summer sunset lighted up the top of the towers and the highest buildings of the city. Men and women moved quickly in the twist of paved streets, with that energy that awakens when one's aware that another working day has finished and foresees much deserved rest. Children paved their way into the labyrinth of streets sneaking among men and animals, disappearing beyond the doors at their mothers' call, who were about to serve dinner. Voices, music, yells mixed with the light breeze that wedged in the ways, carrying the perfume of dry grass from the countryside. Everywhere were workshops, stands, tents, travelling artists, wagons. This was Ecbatana, the city of many colors, of many perfumes, the stronghold protected by the high crenellated walls on which long, white and red flags flapped. The gem that once fell into the dust, scratched and stepped on by barbaric envy, now was shining again, polished by its citizens' hands. The victorious city, the city of freedom, the crucial knot of the Continental Highway, a rocky, golden casket that already filled myth with the prodigious stories people told happened within its walls. Ecbatana appeared like this, embraced by the last light of the day, risen haughty and isolated on the vast level ground at the mountains' feet, chosen among the others to be the Royal Capital of the thriving Kingdom of Pars.

The gates would be closed in a few minutes and the numbness of the evening, then the cooling breeze of the night, would fall upon the city. The small group of knights rushed at full gallop towards the western gate rising a dusty cloud. The guard standing at the entrance stopped them with a significant gesture of his hand. The five strangers stopped and one of them got off his horse and went closer to the parsian soldier. He showed him a piece of paper and the soldier turned it around many times before grumbling something and letting the new arrived proceed. The knight straddled the horse again and entered the city followed by the other four men.

The nobleman made a wide bow. He fixed the green headgear on his bald head with care, then turned around and disappeared beyond the door followed by his two attendants, noticeably satisfied. Elam followed him with his eyes shaking his head with a certain disappointment.

«This was the last delegation. The meetings are over for today», he said to the king sitting at the bottom of the room. Arslan breathed out in relief and let himself collapse against the throne's back. He reclined his head backwards and some strands of his silver hair slid on his face. Daryun, wrapped in his pitch-black cape, looked at him apprehensively while the king fixed the scarlet coat fringed with golden strands on his knees, sighing for the umpteenth time. The orange light of the sunset flooded into the room from the huge windows that opened on the left wall. Anyway, the feared Marzban believed he saw a certain paleness on the sovereign's face, a candor that matched the white pants and tunic he was wearing.

«Your Majesty, you seem really tired…», Daryun said getting closer to the throne. Arslan smiled.

«Just a bit, don't worry. It's been a long day», the young king answered. Elam nodded and approached the ebony table laying against the right wall of the room to reorganize the papers that had been signed during the previous hours.

Suddenly a herald all dressed in white burst into the room. He stopped a few steps from Elam, bending on his knees to catch his breath. When he stood up again he realized everyone's eyes were focusing on him, so he rearranged his white headgear with long brims that framed his face, he cleared his voice and started speaking:

«Majesty», he began. «An embassy composed of five knights has just arrived and asks to be received». Elam twisted his mouth annoyed.

«The hearings are over for today», the young counselor exclaimed.

«That's what I told them, but they insisted!», the herald said lifting his arms in the air.

«Where is this embassy from?», Arslan then asked. The herald dropped his arms at his sides and for an instant he seemed to hesitate.

«From Lusitania, Sir». Elam and Daryun looked at each other surprised and Arslan stiffened. The Great War had been over for a few years, but hearing that name still made him jerk and a soft shiver ran down his spine.

«Let them in!», he ordered sitting better on the throne, while Daryun and Elam stared at him speechlessly.

«They arrived here without even considering sending a message of presentation», Daryun said. «What could they possibly want?»

«That's what I want to find out», the king answered following with his eyes the herald who, after having bowed, rushed outside the door to refer the order.

Less than a minute later the coordinated steps of the ambassadors echoed in the corridor, accompanied by the cracking of the swords hanging from their hips. The small group entered the meeting room. It was composed of five people, all knights, and they were wearing the typical blue tunic with the two-limbed white cross on their back and the iron helmet on their heads. They seemed rather young, except for one who advanced behind their supposed commander, a middle-height boy who kept his eyes low. They stopped a few meters from the throne and they bowed slightly. Arslan looked at them.

«Welcome», he started a little unsure. «Who are you? What do you want?», he asked, regretting immediately having used such hostile words.

The boy who served as commander of the Lusitanian group smirked ambiguously. Daryun stared at them suspiciously and Elam glanced at the dagger he had put on the ebony table. Arslan, on the other hand, was enraptured by that strange smile, sure he had already seen it on somebody's face. The young commander lifted up his face and made the helmet slide backwards. Two amber eyes crowned by long black eyelashes shone in the half-light of the sunset. Arslan jerked. First he stared at those eyes shocked, then his lips curled into a smile and his face lighted up.

«Étoile!», the sovereign exclaimed enthusiastically.

Daryun and Elam looked at the knight and they had to admit it really was the lusitanian girl. Étoile laughed at the king's reaction, she took the helmet off and her long blonde hair fell on her back.

«It took you long enough to realize it was me, pampered boy!», she commented sarcastically, but she didn't manage to utter the last word since Arslan had already rushed down the steps that elevated the throne and had drew her into a warm hug. In the rush Étoile's helmet fell on the ground rolling under the eyes of the other lusitanians, who were looking at each other failing to understand the sovereign's reaction. Daryun and Elam smiled at the incorrigible affability of their king. Étoile, recovering from the surprise, blushed visibly and didn't dare hug him back, so she just patted his back affectionately.

«I wasn't expecting such welcome», she admitted when Arslan resolved to let her go.

«Forgive me!», Arslan laughed fixing his red coat. «The fact is that I would have never imagined you'd come here! It's been four years since the last time I saw you…», the king said looking at her. She was taller, without doubt, and her features had sharpened.

«Right…», Étoile agreed looking at him too. Arslan had grown up, he was even taller than her of about three inches, and his face wasn't that of a boy anymore, but of a young man. They never realized how much they stood there motionless looking at each other. Someone coughing behind Étoile drew them back to reality.

«Anyway, these are my men», the girl said stepping aside and pointing at them with her hand.

«Kostàs». A boy of about twenty years, thin and with black eyes and hair, moved a step forward.

«Yanis». A robust knight responded, blonde and green-eyed, who seemed to be gifted with great physical strength.

«Thibaut». It was the turn of a young, tall and thin man, whose hair was red like the freckles covering his nose and cheeks that intensified his light blue eyes.

«And Malakai», Étoile concluded. The last called one stepped forward. He was the oldest one, a middle-aged man, with brown hair and beard. He bowed slightly and greeted the king.

«It's an honor to meet you, king Arslan». His voice was warm and deep.

«The honor is mine», the sovereign answered politely. «These are two of my generals, as well as counselors and dearest friends: Daryun and Elam». The two moved onwards and smiled benevolently. Arslan's whole attention turned to Étoile once again.

«I'm sure you have a lot of things to tell me, that's why tonight all of you will be my guests for dinner». Étoile thanked him and Yanis seemed to reinvigorate at the mere mention of food. Arslan called an attendant.

«Accompany our guests to their apartments and let them know when dinner will be served», he ordered smiling.

«I shall do it straight away, Majesty». Arslan made sure his order was done in the best way possible, then he retired in his rooms to get ready for dinner.

Arslan instructed the servants to prepare the huge rectangular room on the first floor of the palace. On the long wall on the right of the entrance were positioned big lanterns at equal distance, on the opposite wall, on which opened enormous arches that overlooked the city, the women had put big vases with colorful flowers. The low central table was set with embossed goblets and large fruit baskets. Also, in order to mark the seats, perfectly polished and shining cutleries were positioned on the tablecloth of soft fabric with azure and blue embroideries. All around the table were large cushions on which later the dining companions would seat to have dinner according to the parsian tradition.

Darkness fell upon Ecbatana, but thanks to the big lanterns hanging from the wall the room was floodlit. Arslan appeared at the entrance receiving the servants' greetings. The king was accompanied by Elam, Daryun and Farangis, who had reached the palace from the near Temple of Mithra. For the event the young sovereign had chosen to wear a long-sleeved, dark red, short tunic, fringed with golden strands and tied by a leather belt, matched with white pants. His gold and lapis lazuli earrings made his already shining face glow even more. He had a word with his companions, then the doors opened again and the guests made their entrance announced by a herald. Arslan welcomed them smiling widely.

Étoile entered the room followed by her men, all in civilian clothes. The young woman was wearing a light, cobalt blue, long-sleeved tunic kept tied by a large leather belt that marked her waist and hips, fair pants and knee-high boots. Her long, blonde hair was braided and fell elegantly on her right shoulder. On her neck she wore the wooden cross of the Faith of Yaldabaoth from which she never got separated. The other knights were wearing a long-sleeved, white shirt, a sleeve-less blue robe that covered up to mid-thigh, a leather belt and fair pants.

Étoile approached the sovereign and smiled slightly.

«I hope your accommodation satisfy you», the king started looking at the small group of lusitanians. Yanis smiled eloquently and Kostàs nodded firmly.

«Everything's perfect. Thank you», Étoile answered speaking for everyone.

«Very good», Arslan commented. A servant of the kitchen peeked out from behind the door and gave a nod to the king, who nodded back to let him know he had understood.

«Let's not wait any longer», the sovereign resumed opening his arms. «The cooks are ready to-»

An agitated sequence of steps, curses and rather worrying thuds echoed in the corridor. Daryun glanced instinctively at the sword leaning against the wall, the others, instead, turned towards the entrance more curious then worried. After the umpteenth thud a young woman whose hair and eyes were red as flames burst into the room, covered in sweat and mud, with her sword swaying violently at her side and her face marked by tiredness.

«Alfreed!», Arslan exclaimed shocked. «I hadn't expected to see you so soon. Have you and your team, already completed the inspection? Did something happen?», he asked her worried by the girl's conditions. Alfreed caught her breath.

«Yes… Yes, everything's alright!», she answered gaining a sigh of relief by everyone. «But…»

«But?», Daryun urged.

«As soon as I found out I ran as fast as I could! But apparently he was wrong…», she said disconsolate.

«Who was wrong? What are you talking about?», the Knight in Black asked again starting to lose his patience. Alfreed stretched out her back and grumbled something.

«A herald…», she started explaining. «I heard him ordering to set up the apartments for some lusitanian knights, among which was Étoile, but clearly she's not here…», she concluded pointing at the group standing in front of her. The lusitanians looked at her perplex, then turned to their commander who peeked out from behind Yanis' large body, making herself visible. Alfreed opened her eyes and mouth wide and Étoile laughed at the funny face resulted.

«He wasn't wrong! He wasn't wrong!», the young parsian woman shouted rushing towards her. She didn't hug her to prevent covering her in mud from head to toe, but she squeezed her hands tightly, happy to see her friend safe and sound. Arslan suggested to wait for Alfreed to freshen up and then have dinner all together. No one objected, but Yanis betrayed a certain bother that didn't go unnoticed to Thibaut, who jabbed his elbow into his stomach.

It didn't take long for Alfreed and in a blink of an eye she reached the dining companions. Arslan took a seat in the middle of one of the long sides of the table and wanted Étoile next to him, on his left. Daryun sat on the king's right, next to Farangis. Alfreed took a seat next to her lusitanian friend, while Elam and Étoile's men sat down on the other side of the table. Arslan waved his hand and the servants started coming out the kitchen with laden, steaming trays.

Courses of roast meat, vegetables cooked by embers' heat, bread and spiced flat breads were served accompanied by a wonderful wine coming from the southern area of the kingdom. The abundant dishes were a delight not only for the palate, but also for the eyes, such colorful were the compositions.

The guests really enjoyed the parsian cooking. At every mouthful an amazed expression painted on their faces and Arslan was really happy about that. From time to time he turned to look at Étoile, who accepted politely everything she was offered. For a moment the king believed to see her again in the dim light of the cell in the underground of the Keep of Saint Emmanuel, grabbing the bowl of stew out of his hands and popping it like the roughest of the soldiers. The two images seemed so distant now that he couldn't help laughing.

Étoile stared perplex at him rising an eyebrow.

«What's wrong with you?», she asked. Arslan shook his head.

«Nothing… Nothing…», he answered waving his hand in mid-air. «Rather, tell me… How was your journey back home? And what happened later?»

Étoile sighed and for a few seconds she stared quietly the cup of wine a woman had just poured her. Arslan feared he had asked her the wrong question. The girl, instead, lifted her eyes on his face and answered.

«The journey went well, but what we found once we arrived… well…»

In the room only the clinking of the dishes that the servants were piling to clear the table was resounding. Everyone was waiting for Étoile to find the right words to continue.

«The ones who had stayed had taken advantage of the situation to gain money and power against the population. Once the war was over, the army came back disordered and in disarray and that made the situation worse. We tried to gather enough men to bring order at least to the main centers. I served mostly in my native city. It took us two years, but we managed to bring back peace and calm. It was then that I was appointed as Knight». Étoile let herself get carried away by her memories and smiled.

«What a wonderful news», Arslan commented sincerely.

«Since that moment I started receiving tasks of greater responsibility. Six months ago I was order to go to Misr on a diplomatic mission. It was in that occasion that I met them», Étoile explained turning her gaze to her men. «And it's from Misr that we are coming, sadly without having reached the hoped success. While we were coming back I thought about making a deviation through Pars. I admit I was curious to see how you were managing…», she added bringing the wine cup to her lips. Arslan chuckled. «And I have to say you seem more capable than I had expected!», the young woman concluded. Daryun didn't hide an annoyed grimace due to the lusitanian's insinuations.

«I do my best!», Arslan said humbly. «Of course the help of my friends is fundamental», he added in a more serious tone. Elam, Farangis and Daryun smiled.

«Speaking of which…», Étoile resumed. «Someone's missing, if I'm not mistaken». Alfreed let out a mournful cry and grabbed her arm. The young lusitanian managed to place the cup on the table just in time to avoid spilling the wine on the precious cushions.

«My beloved Narsus had to leave and now he's at Peshawar to resolve some important businesses», she started saying desperate. «And I'm here alone…», she sobbed. Elam stared at her annoyed shaking his head.

«Jaswant asked to pass some time in his homeland to take part in some traditional celebrations and he'll be away for a few weeks. Gieve is constantly travelling and probably he managed to sneak into some luxurious palace… or he's outside in the cold air under the stars!», Elam said smiling.

Dinner went on and the dining companions tasted typical parsian sweets that were really appreciated, especially by Yanis. Once the courses were over, Arslan let some flute and lute players enter to accompany with a delicate melody the conversation that followed.

After just over an hour the guests asked for permission to reach their accommodations and rest. The king had nothing against it and after a final toast everyone was dismissed for the night.

Étoile reached the guests' apartments with her men, but the girl realized she had forgotten the book she used for her evening prayers in the bag she had left in the stable with her horse.

She greeted her soldiers and went down the stairs again. She took the corridor on the left and crossed the inner square up to the barns and stables. She took from the bag what she was looking for and went back. While she was climbing the stairs she saw a dark figure holding a lantern in its hand coming towards her. She stopped, suspicious, and when she remembered she hadn't her sword with her a shiver ran down her spine. Tension, however, melted when in the dim light two big blue eyes shone and the girl realized it was Arslan. The king stopped a couple of steps from her and smiled.

«Sorry! I didn't want to scare you», he explained noticing her expression. «Why are you still here?». Étoile breathed in to answer him.

«I went to take this», she said showing him the book. «And you?»

«I went to the roof to greet Azrael», the king answered plainly.

«Azrael? That's the grey hawk that's always stuck to you, right?», the young woman commented mimicking the bird's wings with her arms.

«Exactly!», Arslan chuckled, thinking that was the weirdest as much as most realistic description of Azrael he had ever heard.

They stood there, motionless, looking at each other in the dim light and Arslan thought Étoile's amber eyes, illuminated by the lantern's flame, were more shining than ever. Then suddenly the sovereign broke the silence.

«I meant what I said earlier. I'm happy that you came here. You can't even imagine how glad I am to see you safe and sound…», he admitted looking straight into her eyes. His gaze was intense and penetrating. Étoile failed to stare back at him and lowered her eyes blushing.

«How long are you planning to stay?», the king asked her.

«My men need to rest. If it's no trouble, I think a week will be enough», the young woman answered getting a grip of herself.

«Only one week?», Arslan blurted. Étoile sensed a certain disappointment in his voice. «Anyway», the sovereign resumed, «you can stay for as long as you want», he told her smiling. Étoile smiled back.

«You haven't changed… Thank you». She climbed a few steps and went past him. «Now if you don't mind, I'd like to rest a bit. It's been a terribly long day», she told him.

«Of course. Goodnight», he said.

«Goodnight», she answered. Then she climbed the stairs and disappeared in the darkness of the corridor. Arslan waited until the sound of her steps vanished in the night. He went down the stairs and headed towards the royal apartments absorbed in his thoughts.

One week. He could not afford to waste not even a minute.