A/N: So, this chapter has fought me for every. Effing. Inch. I'm still not the most confident about it, but if I was going to lose my mind if I didn't get it posted soon. Seriously, this kind of delay makes me crazy. I hate leaving people hanging for that long. But without further ado, here you go ::faceplants into pillow::
"Ahhh, to feel the sun properly again," Dastan relished, leaning back on the bench, against the alabaster wall. "The view from up here really is stunning." Next to him, Tamina gave him an amused smile.
"You'd be surprised what you notice when you take the time to look around, instead of barging in swords first."
"I'm going to be hearing that for a while yet, aren't I?"
"Well, you did invade my city, based on false information no less. I think a little reminding from time to time is in order."
Lingering soreness hampered Dastan from being able to do much of anything, but he was desperate to get out of that room even for a short jaunt. The small balcony connected to it would have to do. He gazed out at the desert horizon, wondering what everyone else was up to, the people they met on that journey. How their lives might go on unchanged now. "I could almost stand to see an ostrich race…"
"I beg your pardon?" sputtered Tamina.
"It's really very amusing to watch, if you don't take it too seriously."
"What exactly would possess you to watch it in the first place?"
"Oh, the…the more complicated part of the story. As I mentioned before, we cut through the Valley of the Slaves to get to Avrat. It was the quickest route from Alamut, and our best chance at avoiding the Persian patrols that were after us. We just didn't bank on what was waiting for us there."
"…And that involved ostrich racing?"
"It involved uh, businessmen keeping their endeavors out of the reach of tax collectors. An impressive establishment, really, not just the wooden racecourse and stands. Trading, accommodations for those too drunk to travel on, granted I'm not sure some of them get around to leaving. Even a cave system fitted with secure gates. The self-styled 'sheik' runs quite the booming business under a reputation that he knew soldiers wouldn't waste the resources to confront."
"You're not serious—"
"The bloodthirsty slaves are pure myth. Although his right-hand man is an unnerving blade thrower, so it's a bad idea to cross him all the same. Easier to propose a deal."
"Oh? What kind of deal could you possibly offer them as a fugitive?"
"One that also allowed me to repay you for your clever tactics, at least until they decided the price on my head was worth turning me in to the nearest outpost anyway. Thankfully you chose to stir up a distraction. Then we had to work together to escape, again; I told you I would give the dagger back if you helped me get into Avrat and reach my uncle."
"Just a moment, how exactly did you repay me?" Tamina fixed him with a suspicious glare. Dastan couldn't quite meet her eye.
"I…might have said I bought you as a slave, and promised to trade you in return for supplies—in my defense, that was after the second time you intended me dead one way or another."
"You mean when I was acting on my sacred duty to keep the dagger out of the wrong hands, including allies only by virtue of shared peril?"
"If you call pretending to faint in order to bash me over the head an act of sacred duty. Remember I had a personal mission to protect, too."
"So you resorted to petty retribution, how noble of you. Very mature."
"Okay, I wasn't taking this part seriously. I didn't understand yet the stakes that were in play!" blustered Dastan. "Anyway, it turned out to be a benefit that the sheik tracked us in hopes of still claiming the reward. We would have stood no chance at the sanctuary, or been able to get the dagger back if we hadn't convinced them to join us. Well, bribed them to. They couldn't really resist the offer of tax-free gold."
"Heaven forbid they think of anyone besides themselves. Some things should be done simply because they are right." She hesitated, cleared her throat.
Dastan noticed her eyes kept wandering over the shadow at the base of his ribs, just visible thanks to his loose, open shirt. "It's okay, you know. Like you said, because it was the right thing. No matter the consequences."
"I suppose I wasn't prepared to see the extent of those consequences…"
"Is it that different from you pledging your life to protect the dagger? To protect the world? It wasn't just about proving innocence anymore, Nizam had to be stopped. As long as Tus kept up the search orders in Alamut, there was a chance Nizam could reach the Sandglass."
Tamina placed a hand over the mark on Dastan's chest, an unusually intimate gesture for her, even after the past few days. "So did your brother listen to you?"
"Yes, but our uncle answered the guards' alarm himself. We underestimated his determination. He killed Tus without hesitation, the only family either of us had left, taking the dagger once again with the help of his Hassansin devils…" Dastan paused. A detail of the memory clicked into place. "The Hassansin, I don't know how to say this…you discovered how Nizam learned about the dagger and the Sands in the first place. That particular Hassansin used to be one of your priests.
"I tell you this because although Nizam is gone, they are still out there. My father is aware of this; he has vowed to track them down for good, but you deserve to know, as the guardian."
"Thank you. It is a serious blow to the temple, that we have been so corrupted from within. Perhaps, however, we have also gained new partners," Tamina processed out loud. Her striking doe eyes shyly tried to meet his.
"I will continue to help you keep it safe, as long as you'll have me," he promised.
"I'm not sure that's necessarily my determination to make. Some things are revealed only by—"
"Destiny. You told me once. Or rather, the previous you. When we raced Nizam to reach the Sandglass, that destiny forced me to face the hardest decision of my life."
The princess' brow furrowed with concern.
"In the struggle, we both went over the cavern's edge. I could either stop Nizam in time, or I could try to save you…you made me let you go in order to protect the rest of the world, said that it was meant to be me all along, instead of you. Then I watched you fall, unable to do anything about it." Dastan's gut twisted with the haunting image in his mind.
Tamina's gaze dropped with her astonishment, as well as her hands. "But you kept going. Please tell me you did."
"I fought my uncle, yes, managed to remove the dagger before the damage spread out of control. The sands that were released ended up sending me back to the end of the battle here. Almost immediately I realized I had the chance to stop all of that from happening again."
"You did it," breathed Tamina, smiling.
"I still believe we make our own destiny. That being said, this is one I choose freely. It's the right one."
"Well, for that I'm glad."
Sunset bathed the city below in gold. Dastan reached over, daring to tuck Tamina's long hair behind one of her ears. She let his hand linger at her cheek. One of hers slipped up his shoulder. She leaned forward, closed the distance between them; the kiss felt perfectly natural in the moment.
What started as tenderness under her light grip shifted to outright pain, enough that Dastan flinched involuntarily. Tamina's surprise turned to shock when she looked down to find both her hand and his right sleeve tinted red.
"I'm sorry! How—I couldn't have—" she rambled.
"No, it's not your fault, I should have expected this. Back then, with Nizam, he, well…" His explanation trailed off thanks to the discomfort in his side welling up and sharpening. He drew one hand to the echo of the stab wound out of reflex.
Tamina's mouth dropped open. "And you were going to inform me of this when, exactly?"
"Well, you know now, right?" Dastan attempted to placate her, though his strained voice didn't help his case. Blood started to seep through his fingers.
"Come on, let's get you back to bed…"
The princess braced her shoulders under his free arm, impressively supporting his muscled frame. He didn't have too much trouble walking, his balance and strength just weren't at their best. The healers joined them right as he was able to collapse onto the bed.
"Doesn't look as bad as…before," sighed Tamina, taking a look under the shirt material. The wound to his shoulder was merely a shallow gash.
"I promise this is the last that you will have to deal with," Dastan bit down into a groan. Farrah pressed clean linen against his side to contain the bleeding. Far from reassured, Tamina took over the hands-on ministrations, so Farrah could join her fellow practitioner in compounding a fresh tincture.
"I will deal with it as long as necessary. You can withstand this just as you have the others."
"What if it's different this time? We have no real idea what this 'convergence' is going to do. The 'hand of the gods,' as you call it, has come full circle. For all we know they'll sweep me to the start again, made to walk the purgatory of an endlessly repeated cycle, or I'll be forfeit to the Sands themselves." The pain seared him from the inside, like a flame.
"Don't talk like that, please."
The healers rushed back, still adding ground herbs to steaming water from the hearth, kept at the ready for just such an occasion. The wiry, balding man furrowed his brow as he approached. He stretched a hand toward Dastan's skin, not even touching yet. "This isn't a normal fever heat, your Highness."
From Dastan's point of view, he felt as if the sun itself was rising within his chest. Wisps of blinding light, not dark, began to lap at the edges of his vision. Far from being a reassurance, however, the growing waves of brightness carried with them that sandy weight he remembered from the first night. A pressure that threatened to suffocate him despite knowing nothing was there.
"Maybe it's for the best. I-I can accept it."
"I'm not ready for you to…" Tears shone on Tamina's cheeks, when he could see them clearly enough. Her healers carefully fed him the ready medicine, though he hardly registered the reflex to swallow until some of the liquid trickled down his airway, throwing him into a coughing fit. Everything seemed unreal after that. Like a mirage, slowly blurring away. Swirling, gathering into a fiery cyclone around him.
And then it all exploded. Any sign of the room and its occupants disappeared. Raging hot wind snatched at Dastan's clothes, his hair. Fine debris pelted him, though it didn't necessarily hurt as he thought it should. He had no sense of place, how far his surroundings extended, whether he stood or lay flat, or which direction was up for that matter. He simply floated in this existence.
A shape coalesced out of the burning light. Smaller, slight in build, a cloak rippling from its shoulders. For a moment Dastan both hoped and feared that Tamina was here as well, but he quickly realized different.
It was a young girl. She paid no mind to the storm around them. He could tell she gazed directly into his eyes even before he could make out her features. An oasis of peace amid the turmoil assaulting his senses. Dastan had no idea who she was, and yet he felt like he didn't need to know. Or rather, that he knew by meaning instead of in actuality.
The girl gave Dastan a gentle smile. Holding out her hands, she beckoned him toward the concentrating aura behind her. He couldn't decide if there was something on her palms—not that he had the chance to find out. A flash of pain struck his own hands as they touched, immediately followed by the whole chaos crashing in on them. Only then did his awareness finally go black.