Hey!

I just wanted to take a little moment to thank my reviewers, I didn't really know how well the story would go down, but your encouragements really amazed me! Sorry about any spelling mistakes, and that this chapter isn't long. I might do a double-chapter update during the weekend to make up for it. As always, I don't own Prince of Persia and characters, etc.

Thanks!

Dastan cleared his throat again,

"Well, the matter is that,"

"Our uncle wasn't the only threat, Father."

His brothers and father stared back at him, eyebrows raised, and Dastan's stomach plummeted suddenly. The deceit of a close family member had already torn apart his family, and now here came the awful truth which was sure to devastate.

"What do you mean, Dastan?" Tus asked finally, and unlike the other two, his eyes were serious and questioning. As if he knew, that whatever Dastan might say next, was something vitally important.

Tamina had turned away, choosing to stare at the palace gardens, and Dastan could see the distress all over her face. But right now he could not comfort her; right now he had to speak the truth.

"Our uncle…he wasn't working by himself. He wanted to-" Dastan paused, searching for the words, "Uncle knew that if he could get the support of a certain group, who already had reasons to hate us, that he would stand a better chance."

He didn't say what the "chance" meant for their family. But the King knew.

"Of becoming King." His father's voice was grave, his words a statement, not a question. The atmosphere was once again heavy with Nizam's betrayal.

Dastan nodded. It was all he felt capable of doing. Garsiv, however, would not waste any time battling with his emotions. He was guided only by anger, and he wasn't afraid to speak.

"What group, brother?"

Garsiv knew. In those ink-black eyes, there was a spark of despair. He knew, but he did not want to.

"Hassassins," Dastan met Tamina's eyes over the table, knowing she was the only one who understood the magnitude of his pain.

"Nizam was bringing back the Hassassins, but he was training them to be used against us. He knew that only someone who truly hated us would be loyal to his cause."

There. The words were out. Tus raked a hand through his hair, and Garsiv let his head drop slightly.

"Gods." Tus cursed in a hissed breath.

Dastan forced his eyes shut. What he was seeing from his family, what he had caused was too painful to witness. His skin turned white over his knuckles as he clenched them.

His father, who always looked collected, a true monarch, had simply turned frail and pale at the news. He staggered to his feet.

"I-I…I must think, my sons. I will tell you the verdict later today. Princess, if you will excuse me." The King stammered, avoiding Dastan's eyes.

Tamina bowed again.

"Of course." She turned to a servant in the corner. "Show his Majesty to his room, will you?"

The servant curtsied and hurried along, with the King following closely.

Tus and Garsiv each then in turn looked at each other, their glares matching each other's. And then both of them left abruptly, spewing curses and angry comments inappropriately. Dastan would have laughed if he hadn't felt so broken.

…

After several minutes, he felt a presence behind him. Dastan turned, seeing Tamina with a determined look in her eyes.

"Come."

She grasped his hand then, pulling him up in one swift movement. Tamina could be stubborn when she wanted to be. Suddenly too tired and defeated to object, he did what he did rarely; became silent.
Tamina then lead him through the back door of the room, through the gardens and into an entirely different building.

They entered the room, footsteps loud against the stone floor, and Dastan then stopped to take it in. Tamina had taken him to a place that he assumed had to be considered holy. Green, luminous plants sat in their elaborate vases at each corner of the room. In the middle of the room was a large, square pool. He could smell the scent of burning incense, mixed with the pure aroma of jasmines that he associated with Tamina.

His soon-to-be wife.

That thought still struck him as impossible and unthinkable, but yet always made a warm flame spread through his chest. When he glanced again at Tamina, he knew that her thoughts were much different. She had changed roles. Her eyes, dark and soulful, now shone with the strength of a High Priestess. Tamina patted the step on the pool, motioning for him to sit. Dastan complied, and heard the footsteps of a servant approaching Tamina. A young girl, wearing only a simple white robe, passed Tamina small silver bowl, filled with a sort of scented oil.

The girl bowed her head, before disappearing through the door. Still silent, Tamina dipped her finger into the oil, avoiding Dastan's eyes. Dastan wondered why she did that. Did she fear her façade would slip if he were to look at her? There was much he still had to learn about her. She tugged at his shirt, and he knew instantly what she meant. This was purely a ritual, and that was required. He slowly shrugged off the shirt, placing it on the stone floor. Her eyes were impassive as she stood beside him, and began placing the oil onto his shoulders. She drew patterns with it, her lips moving and yet making no sound. She mouthed words as she moved her hands from his shoulders to his chest, continuing to trace patterns. Dastan then closed his eyes, determined not to ruin this moment. He didn't believe in what she believed in, but he still appreciated her devotion to it. And understood that this was her way of helping him. Her hands moved along his forearms, palms and neck.

"Open your eyes." Tamina ordered softly.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring into her bottomless ones. Tamina raised two fingers dipped in the oil, pressing them to his forehead. She then leaned, touching her forehead to his for a few seconds. When she pulled away, eyes no longer empty of emotion, he smiled.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Tamina smiled back, dropping unto the pool's step, beside him. Cool water brushed against his ankles, contrasting the warmth of Tamina's arm against his. He tapped her shoulder, making her jump slightly and drop the bowl into the pool. It floated over the water, and Tamina reached out for it. As she did, she slipped on the second step.

Dastan's reflexes weren't good enough. He grasped onto her arm, but ended up falling along with Tamina, feet-first into the shuddering water.

The princess squealed as the water hit her, making Dastan smile instantly.

"Well done, princess." He teased, knowing that the eerie calmness from before had been shattered.

Something in her eyes flashed, and she narrowed them.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you, Prince Dastan." Her last words were said in the same teasing sarcasm as his, and she lowered her hand onto the water and then flicked some at him brusquely.

He flinched and then let out a short laugh.

"I'm terrified." Dastan joked, flicking water back at her.

She squealed again at the cold water, before stepping forwards, breaths away from him.

"You should be!"

When she flicked water at him again, he was ready, pinning her arms against her sides and holding her to him. She struggled against him, regarding him with half-angry eyes. Dastan chuckled, making her squirm even more against him.

"Surrender" He whispered into her ear, making her turn still against his breath.

She struggled again, but this time it was a half-heartened attempt, and he realised right then just how closely they were standing.

"Never…" She whispered back, but her arms suddenly wrapped around his body.

He tilted her face up to him, feeling her cheeks heat under his touch. And again, she had managed to make him breathless, to feel like a young boy again. Dastan had felt broken and in despair hours before, but she somehow managed to make everything alright. And Dastan didn't know how to thank her.

Slowly but surely, he brought her lips closer to hers, as Tamina closed her eyes and inched closer to him. He kissed her so gently, at first it was almost a brush, loving the feeling of the way she filled his arms. That she seemed to fit perfectly with him. After several seconds the kiss wasn't so gentle at all, but passionate and urgent, as their bodies fought to be even closer together. He sensed her breathlessness; he pulled away slowly, his lips tingling strangely. She leaned against his shoulder, breathing heavily, and the look in her eyes made his heart swell once more. Her breathing became hitched as he traced butterfly kisses on her neck, and she let out a giggle.

And then he couldn't help it, couldn't help leaning over again and kissing her once more.