Let's not worry about what tomorrow will amass

The fall of her beautiful city has devastated her, she is ill at the sight of the vile Persians murdering her people and pillaging the sacred temples. She hopes wildly that she sent out the Dagger in time and is glad she ordered the collapse of the access tunnels to the Chamber. She stands proudly in the throne room, she will not show fear before the Persians.
Her aides whisper of a 'scene' in front of the palace, it seems the sons of King Sharaman have killed their uncle for treason and now request audience with her.
The eldest prince enters the throne room first, accompanied by his brothers and soldiers. Tus, he is called. He's calm but unsure of himself, vacillating and deferential towards her.
Before she truly realizes it, her city is saved, the Dagger returned -taken! It was taken! - and she finds herself betrothed to Prince Dastan, who looks at her so oddly.

After Prince Dastan leaves her in the palace gardens, she returns to her rooms and weeps. The enormity of what has happened sweeps over her and leaves her breathless. She has no desire to marry the man, but will submit to save her city and keep the sacred secrets even though she is fairly certain Dastan has already uncovered them. His hints about destiny are troubling. He is entirely too familiar with her, kind and polite yes but his gaze too frank and knowing.

The Persian revelry is subdued but still lasts till deep in the night, the sound of songs and raucous laughter spills through the windows, accompanied by the smell of roasting meat and spices.
The Princes have not gone to their men but remain in the chambers she has set apart for them. She wonders if Prince Dastan is telling his brother all the secrets of the Dagger and fear grips her heart.
She jumps up when her servants rush into her chamber and through the opened doors she can hear a man shouting for the healers.
Peymaneh, her most loyal handmaid, bows before her: "Prince Dastan has been taken gravely ill, My Lady."

The priests have dug deep in the ancient writings until they came upon a vague text concerning the release of the Sands of Time and the effect upon the handler of the Dagger. All that unlived history, those memories, lives and deaths, all those thousands of unremarkable things that happened during the erased time are channeled through the chosen one. It would too much for anyone to handle, even for the Lion of Persia.
She will not accept it, he has obviously been kind to her and Alamut, so she orders her priests to look further and has the most secret books brought up from the library to be studied.

Peymaneh brings her news of a fight in the throne room between the royal brothers. The fiery one called Garsiv has apparantly not taken Prince Tus' orders concerning the preparation for the death rites in stride. Tamina does not believe he punched his brother, surely even a prince would be viciously punished for harming the future King of Persia but her servant swears it is true. It sheds a new light upon the Persians but it's immaterial for now; time is drawing near. The end is drawing near.

The priests have worked hard, they have done heavy magicks and sworn fell oaths and she is presented with a small phial containing a bright green liquid.
If this doesn't work, she knows Dastan's eventual death will be blamed on her; her chances of survival will be very low and she fears her city will be razed to the ground. It must work.
Still, she is not afraid when she enters Dastan's chambers, he is her betrothed after all and she is allowed to be here even if Prince Garsiv seems to disagree. She waits and lets Prince Tus draw his brother away from his protective stance near Dastan's bed, but when she reaches for the elixir hidden in her robes, Darsiv draws his sword and advances towards her.
She opens her hand and lets the phial glint in the torchlight.
"This will heal him.", her voice is firm, she hides her own doubts deeply. "His illness is not natural but my priests have found a cure that will take away his fever."
She looks at her future king and knows he has little hope. She does not wish to be cruel but she must be harsh. "Let me try, after all, what further harm could it do?"
Garsiv bares his teeth at her and she knows that he'd murder her if it weren't for his brother's steadying hand.
At Tus' assent, she removes the stopper from the phial and turns to Dastan. His grey pallor is only offset by the unhealthy sheen on his cheeks, his skin is drawn tight over his bones and she knows he's close to death. The depth of her fear and grief surprises her; she hardly knows this man so why this wealth of emotions connected to him? With one hand, she holds his head steady while she drips the potion in his opened mouth. Her hands shake and a few drops roll down Dastan's cheek. She is uncomfortably aware of the heat of his body, the smell of burning spices and sweat makes her stomach roil and she wants to be away from here. At last, the phial is empty and she draws back with a last look at her…the man on whom her future depends.
Prince Garsiv rushes towards the bed to cradle his brother's face in his hands and the emotion in the act shocks her, she glances at Prince Tus who looks grey and tired. It may be a deathwatch he's been keeping, but it has been a watch, patient and unwearying and full of love for a dying brother. It's given her much to think about.

When the trumpets announcing King Sharaman's arrival sound in the distance, she's ready. She has bathed and dressed in fine clothing, determined to be deferential but not submissive and to show kindness to a fearful father. She settles down on the marble floor and prays for the continued preservation of Alamut and the health of Dastan and when Peymaneh rushes towards her with a smile on her face, she realizes the Gods have not abandoned her. Dastan will live. Joy blooms in her heart and she knows that not all of it is elation that her city is free of danger, but there is heartfelt pleasure that her betrothed is safe. She laughs and thanks the Gods.


TBC