Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, or most of the actions that take place. I only am working at Dastan's mind here in this chapter.

Alright, so here I am, the author. Now, I am sure that most fanfiction addicts, (like myself), have been told time and time again that reviews make the world go round. So far, I have only gotten two reviews, thank you very much Fallingslowly and tite-lilith *hands over large plate of cookies*. I have gotten several alerts and a couple of favs, but that does not compensate for the wonderful review! In one day, I have had one hundred people read this story, and only two of you have reviewed! This simply will not do! I apologize for those of you who like my story and are eager to read it (if there are any). But without reviews, I have NO motivation whatsoever. So come on people! I KNOW that you can review! Tell me what you think so that the story can continue! Like I said, without reviews, you will have LONG gaps in between updates!

Now moving on to another matter of business: the actual story. I am going to try my hardest to make this story as accurate as possible to the movie. However, since I have only been priviledged to see the movie twice, the scenes may be a bit iffy. Expect to have some scenes not exactly identical to the movie version. But just know that it is still there, just reworded a bit. Just so you know, some of them are going to be on purpose, but it is fanFICTION, right? If I make a mistake somewhere along the line (and I will), I expect someone to tell me how it goes, just for my own personal benefit. It will help for when I make more fanfics about this. And guess how you would tell me how it goes? That's right! Reviews! And please add something more than just a "this is how it goes" kind of thing. I really want you guys to like my story, so I got to know how my peeps are seeing it!

So, without further to do, I present the next chapter, and I expect to see some reviews!


Dastan walked stealthily in the halls, gathering up a small group of soldiers along the way. The Princess would not be happy, but it wasn't really for her to decide. These were his brother's orders, and Dastan did not have the heart to turn him down. He just hoped that the Princess would cooperate, and that Father would bless their marriage.

The youngest Prince of Persia did not mind killing, just as long as it was just. However, he hated having to kill women. There was nothing good about killing a woman. In this case, killing the Princess would not only be a murder of a woman and Princess, but it would be unjust. Still, there was nothing that Dastan could do about it. And in some sense, he saw Tus's point. She was a liability. It was obvious that she was a good ruler and had no intentions of being played. Past her young face, wisdom resided.

If Alamut was sending weapons to Persia's enemies, then there was much sense in what Tus was doing. But Garsiv had told him that the Princess doubted any weaponry being sent. The Princess said that supposedly, there were no forgers in Alamut. That excuse made sense, but still did not prove them innocent.

Alamut was a Holy City, no doubt to everyone that lived inside its borders, but that did not mean that they had no reason to go defenseless. That was idiocy! Even the holiest of places were under danger, and they probably would be for the rest of the world's years! Surely a monarch who was intelligent would realize this! If she did not, well, then perhaps she was not as smart as some made her out to be.

"What are we doing, my Prince?" a soldier questioned, bringing Dastan from his thoughts. All of them looked at him quizzically. He had forgotten to tell them what they were doing!

"We are waiting for the Princess, of course. She is royalty after all, is she not?" he asked them cheekily, raising a fine eyebrow. Many of the soldiers, he could tell, fought back a chuckle or a smile. Others, who were not so quick, still gave him a look of confusion.

"I suppose," some mumbled. They looked down at their feet, apparently embarrassed for not fully understanding.

"And what do we with royalty?" Dastan asked, trying to get his slower troops to understand.

"We...dote upon them, Sir?" someone asked. Dastan nearly put his hand to his head in distress.

"We escort them!" the Prince said, almost loosing his happy demeanor. "Stand off to the sides now, and when the Princess comes through that door." He pointed. "Close in around her. Understand?" He waited to make sure that everyone understood him. It was an unfortunate event, but some of the Persians were just meant for battle. Not many were equipped with the type of mind that was needed to run a country - an expanding country at that.

A look of wonder and understanding swept over their dark features, and Dastan yet again felt as if he was going to bury his face in his hands and either cry to death or laugh to death at their stupidity.

The soldiers quickly took positions, stumbling along themselves several times. Dastan had always felt sometimes that his people were incompetent, but he tried desperately not let it bother him. But there were times, oh there were times of pure distress.

Dastan turned to the window, letting the Persians behind him scuffle about, trying to get in a proper formation. By the sounds of it, it wasn't going well, and the Princess would be arriving at any time. Another minute passed by, and the hall was quiet, waiting for the entry of the Princess.

Another minute passed, and the grand, ornate doors opened, a very flustered Princess walking though them. She took one quick surveillance of the small hall. Her eyes must have caught the lurking Persians, for she tried to walk through their trap. They were in the army for their strength, agility, and speed. And they did not disappoint. They closed quickly around her, making an impenetrable blockade.

The Prince came out from behind a stone pillar, looking at her with a smirk, showing all of the smugness in the world. Her eyes widened slightly, then regained composure, making a glare with her painted eyes. It was obvious that she knew how to mask her feelings. Dastan did not appreciate that at all. It made things much more complicated. It wasn't that he could not see right through her, it was just an obstacle that he had really hoped would not present itself.

"So, I am to be escorted by the Lion of Persia," she snarled, avoiding his gaze, as he moved into her view.

Dastan walked to the front, bringing the enclosure forward. The words she said bothered him not. "Nice to meet you too, Princess," he said courteously, being completely sincere.

"Don't try to be nice with me! I know how your kind are, Prince!" she said. Dastan rapidly turned around, bringing the small company to a stand still.

He was a relatively calm man, and did not have an over sized temper, like Garsiv did. But of course, there were those times when there was something that he firmly believed to be true. And at those particular times, the only thing that he saw best to do, was to voice his opinion on the matter, whether his family agreed or not.

But there was one thing that he absolutely did not tolerate. He would never have someone, no matter who there were, no matter what gender, or their social status tell them that he was a spoiled brat of a Prince.

He had not been born in a palace like some uninformed people thought. He had been a street rat, scrambling for food when he could. He had lost his parents at a young age. He still remembered that day well enough. It was burned in his memory, and even though the Persian soldiers that he knew now where not them, it still hurt to know that it had been one of them.

A scrawny boy, no older than five years old ran by. His hair was a light brown, and glowed in heat of the summer sun.

A young Dastan scrambled past, searching for his mother. He travelled on the roof tops, hoping to just catch a glimpse of her. He found her a moment later, standing with his father. They were buying goods, most likely for the night's meal.

Dastan found a way down and began running for his mother. She had always told him that the city was a dangerous place for someone his age. He had never paid much heed to that; he knew that he would be able to survive well on his own if he really needed to. He just didn't know that that time would be approaching as fast as it did.

The Lion of Persia looked down, the image of his family beinig slaughtered just before his eyes was terrible. But there were other times to greive for the family that he barely knew. The King was his father - the only father that he had ever known. And Tus and Garsiv were his brothers. His biological mother had never had more than one child. He remembered her distinctly saying that they would not be able to afford another mouth in the family when he had asked. Lord knew that his parents had barely been able to afford there one and only son.

Remembering the too curious Princess, he turned slightly, waving a finger in the air. "Don't think that you know me, Princess," he told her, trying to be as cordial as possible. There was no way that she could know his past, and her insult had unknowingly dug itself deeper than she had expected.

"Oh really? Well, that is rich coming from the man who overran my city!" she shouted back. There was no doubt in Dastan's mind that she had been used to getting her way and that most of her loyal subjects had never dared to contradict her. Well, the Persians did not know of this tradition, so she would be in for a rude awakening.

At this point, Dastan found himself incredibly annoyed. For one so beautiful, she had many irritable quirks. Maybe killing her would not be as difficult as he once thought.

He turned fully around, facing her. The men standing in formation did not flinch once. "I would suggest a bit of humor when you are presented to the king," he told her. Again, he tried to keep his voice as carefree as possible. She gave a little huff, clearly not satisfied with the outcome. She glared after Dastan as he went into the chamber.

He found his father sitting on a throne, speaking gallantly to the people around him, bringing out a few laughs every now and again.

"Dastan! My son!" he heard his father proclaim. Dastan walked hastily to him, embracing him. His father was such a wonderful man, and it was every day that Dastan thanked God for the blessings that had been given to him. He went from a boy, without a family, living on the streets, to a man who was respected. He was a man who had a family, and what a wonderful family it was! He became a Prince of Persia! It was something that many people marvelled at - the transformation from one so low and dirty, to one so loved by the people he helped rule over.

His family. What a wonderful realization it was!


Alright, I have done my part. I have created another chapter for those who are willing to update. Now, please do your part, and review. I cannot tell you how excited I get when I see that I have a review in my inbox. And when I see those blessed comments, it makes me want to write more. I tell you, it is not a very hard concept to grasp. Please review! Tell me what you think so that I can make it better for the both of us!