Disclaimer: I do not own any of Prince of Persia, just love it to death.
I hope you enjoy this, please read and review! :3
TAMINA-
It had been days since Dastan had been in my room. I missed his presence as much as I resented it.
I didn't want to like him, or even… No, I wouldn't think that way. I couldn't let him close. Women were just thought of as bed warmers, possessions, and trophies.
He didn't like me; he was just tolerant of me. If I entertained any other thoughts, I knew it would only lead to heartbreak.
But I knew that deep down inside me, I hoped. I hoped for impossible things; love and happiness.
Happiness in an arranged marriage? Never.
He kept his distance from me, so I knew that he was uninterested in me. When we passed in the hallways, he would smile and greet me but that was it. At formal dinners, we would sit next to each other at the head table, but conversation was weak and strained.
I was in my room one night when things all changed.
He dropped in from one of the windows, surprising me as I brushed out my long hair.
"Tamina," he said, breathless from his climb. "I'm sorry this is so sudden, but I forgot about this earlier. It just occurred to me, and it's rather urgent."
"Well, what is it?" I asked, curious.
"The temple, it's not pure anymore. One of the priests is corrupt!"
"Just why should I believe you? I've known the people of the temple all my life!"
He was hurt, but tried not to show it. "Princess, I would not lie about such a thing. You must believe me! He is a Hassassin in disguise!"
Again, that sense of knowing, but not quite remembering.
"I suppose if you are wrong, little harm will come of false accusations. I will address this matter in the morning. For now, Prince, would you be interested in a drink?" I asked, trying in any manner to keep this man in my bedchambers for as long as possible.
"Water, please," he said. He walked to a chair near the window and placed himself in it.
I poured two glasses of water and brought them to a small table next to his seat. I brought a stool over to his own spot, and perched on the top cushion.
Feeling quite nervous, I tried to start a conversation. "Have you been enjoying Alamut?"
What a terrible thing to ask! Could I be any more boring? It was a question a stranger asks of another!
Amusement dancing in his eyes, he replied, "A little bit, Princess. It would seem as though things are about to get better for me."
"How so?" I inquired.
"Well, it would seem you have lost your icy demeanor, and have actually initiated a conversation with me!"
A smile flashed across my face before I feigned hurt. "Oh, Prince Dastan, you thought my heart to be an icy stone?"
He laughed heartily, a sound that I decided that I would want to hear again. I wanted to be the cause of such laughter.
"Princess, I would never believe that. Not for a moment." His eyes turned serious again. Some dark thought clouding his mind.
"Dastan? What is it?"
"Nothing," he said, his bright smile returning to his face, but not reaching his eyes.
I left it at that, not feeling brave enough to pursue the issue further.
"Tamina, I feel that – oh I don't know. I feel that we should spend more time together. Just sitting with you at dinner seems so distant. I want to be able to see you when others aren't always watching and talking."
His eyes were almost pleading with me. He was so unsure of himself, and I found that the most endearing thing of all.
"More nights like these?" I asked.
His breath came out in a woosh, he must have been holding it, and he said, "Yes."
"So, my Prince, you have come into my rooms uninvited. Because that is the case, you must do as I command."
He looked a bit alarmed yet he said, "Alright. Tell me, what is it you wish?"
I pondered my options for a minute then finally decided. "Tell me, Lion of Persia, who was it that raised you?"
He smiled and began. "I mostly raised myself. Bis and I would run wild in the streets. He was likely to steal anything he could touch. But I would take any odd job at all to make a coin. It wasn't in me to take from those who worked so hard every day. Though, I must admit, I had to stoop to it every so often, just so as not to starve.
"But before those days, I lived with my mother's sister, Fahima. She had five of her own children, and not nearly enough food for us all. I knew when she took me in that she only did so because my mother had just died and she took pity on me.
"She ran a tight household. None of the children were allowed out after dark. Even though we lived in the slums, she did her best to keep the small house the cleanest on the block.
"Things got worse, though. Her husband lost his job, and that's when I left. I knew she was close to throwing me out." He laughed. "I was never listening to her. I was always dirty and running off with Bis. She thought I was bad for her children, too. Encouraging them to join me in my adventures."
"What of your parents?" I asked, captured by his story.
"My mother, she was a free spirit. She died when I was about six. So I barely remember her. The night she died, I remember this clearest of all. She had been out for most of the night. I had waited up for her to return to our tiny little room that we rented. She was so drunk, it was a miracle she could walk, and even more that she had got home.
"She was yelling and throwing things, telling me that I would never be anything. If only she could see me now. Anyway, she left again, though I tried with all my might to stop her.
"She was found the next morning dead in the gutter."
"Oh, Dastan. That's awful. I'm so sorry!"
"It's well in the past now, Tamina. Don't worry over it. I assure you that I have moved on from that tragedy."
I put my hand over his, and he gave me the warmest of smiles. "Thank you," he said.
"Tell me something more, Dastan. Something to put a smile on your face."
He settled back into his chair and began once again. "My father, although I never knew him personally, I feel in my heart that he was a great man.
"My mother would always tell me stories about him. How charming he was, and how different he could be. She said that that's what set him apart from all the other men in Nasaf.
"She said that he had the palest skin she had ever seen, and the strangest eyes. My eyes are the same as his. He claimed to be a traveler, from somewhere far to the north and west. Said he had come looking for a new life. A new beginning of sorts.
"My parents never married, meaning I am a bastard," he laughed once again. "My aunt didn't like him. She said it was wrong for him to do that to my mother. Said he turned her world upside down and that she was never the same afterwards. Of course she couldn't be, for she was expecting a child, and he had left for parts unknown.
"It was after my birth that my mother let herself go. Losing herself to the wine most nights. Oh there I've gone again with the story of my mother." He smiled at me, still holding my hand.
"Princess, tonight has been wonderful, but it has gotten rather late, and I can see that you are in need of rest. Goodnight."
And with his quiet ease, he left the same way he had come in.
I went to sleep with my hand tingling from the memory of his touch, and thoughts of him dancing through my dreams.
