Hullo, to everyone reading this. New chap, its still needs brushing up, maybe I should slow down with the daily updates...I'm not feeling like a perfectionist for this tale though. Its just fun. To the story then.=)

The guards threw the gates open, and Dastan walked in. The slave girls were dancing about, to the pleasure of the many cackling soldiers, as the King sat in the middle, a wine glass in his hand. The celebrations had already begun.

Dastan caught the eyes of his uncle, who stood by the King. He walked over, while gazing at his father afar. Words flew fast, of what happened in Tus' chambers. Dastan had heard from the troops that King Sharaman had been none too pleased, to journey to Alamut.

"Dastan," Nizam acknowledged, as he came over.

"You've eased father's anger, uncle" Dastan observed. Indeed, now King Sharaman looked well pleased, enjoying himself amidst the party. His apparent anger had indeed, quite dissipated.

"One day Dastan, "his uncle shook his head, "you'll have the pleasure of being brother to the king. As long as you remember the most important duty, I think you shall do quite well."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"Making sure his wine glass stays full." Nizam rolled his eyes.

Dastan chuckled. He certainly didn't look forward to the idea of holding Tus' goblet. But perhaps, he mused, if it eased wars and family brawls, well, a man had to be humiliated every now and then. He'd get back at Tus somehow, Dastan grinned, feeling a little stupid at planning events that had yet to happen.

"My boy!" King Sharaman called, and he look up. His father had seen him. Dastan walked over, as his father gave him a brief hug.

"I'm told than another of my sons has joined in the rank of great Persian warriors!"King Sharaman said, pride enumerating in his voice.

Dastan grinned. "I do hope so. We've missed you, father," he said.

"So have I, m'boy, so have I." They hadn't seen each other for months, every since their skirmishes started at the borders of Koshkahn.

"I was praying for you and your brothers Dastan," King Sharaman paused. "Family," his voice softer, as he looked into his son's eyes, "the bond between brothers that is the sword that defends out empire; I pray that that sword remain strong."

Dastan nodded, understanding. It was what he had been told, what his brother had been told, ever since he's joined the ranks of prince. He continued, changing the subject, "I was hoping my actions would spare our men unnecessary losses Father."

Sharaman leaned closer to his song, shaking his head. "A good man would have done as you did Dastan, act boldly and courageously to bring a victory and spare lives."

"However," the king held his son's hand, to press his point, "a great man would have stopped the attack from happening. A great man," he paused, sipping a bit of wine, "would have stopped what he knew to be wrong, no matter who was ordering it.

He looked closely at Dastan, who appeared a little remorseful. "The boy, Dastan, King Sharamn continued, his voice containing the wisdom of many years. "The boy I saw in the marketplace , was capable of being more than just good, but of being great." He pressed his son's hand, hoping he had understood.

Dastan nodded again. His adoption was never a secret in the persian kingdom. His father talked about it often, and never had anyone allowed to make him feel inferior.

His father was certainly disappointed, but none too much. However, he had to wave his reflections away. He had a task to attend to first.

"Well, in the meantime…"Dastan said, looking up at his Father, "I have a gift for you."

Sharaman sighed, and then smiled at his son. "Very well then, bring it in."

Dastan signalled to Bis in the far corner of the room, and he came forward, presenting the robe Tus had given him. "Father, the Prayer Robe of Alamut's regent, the finest in all the kingdoms."

King Sharaman bowed slightly in acknowledgement, and two servants stepped forward.

He turned to address the room, while his men helped him put it on. "Some questioned the wisdom of my bringing a boy from the streets into my family,. I saw a boy whose blood wasn't noble but whose character, was a king in spirit!" There was a roar of appreciation, and agreement, while Dastan caught his brother Garsiv, at the other end, rolling his eyes, but he was clearly trying to suppress a smile.

Dastan grinned. When he had first come to the palace, it was...magical. Like he's stepped into heaven. All the riches, the strange jewels and objects from across the empire. And the food, plenty of food. It was important to one, who had been surviving on stale bread of a few years...

But what was truly the greatest gift, his family. All of a sudden, he had 2 brothers, who, though initially wary, soon warmed up and he was welcomed as the royal family's own. He'd learnt so much, had gotten a life he didn't know he deserved.

Dastan observed that his father was quite impressed with the robe. He turned to him, well pleased. King Sharamn smiled, clearly impressed. He turned to him, well pleased."Now, m'boy, what can I grant you in return?"

Well, Dastan thought, it's now of never. "Ashaan!" he called out. The guard nodded, and the princess entered, escorted by the troops. There were hushed sighs of admiration, from the persians who had yet to see her. Dastan was almost distracted himself. She was rather striking, he had to admit. Very striking, in fact. He shook himself. If only they were aware of her tongue.

And the way she carried herself, regal and strong, he couldn't help admire her. Just a little. He was almost sure, for were she to lash her tongue out once more, and this time to the powerful empror of Persia, Dastan doubted Tus would have a bride anyway, and that the murder wouldn't be at his hands.

And yet, as the princess halted her tracks, in the middle of the room , he still regretted his duty, should things take a turn for the worst.

Dastan brought her forward, while she leaned as far as she could away from him. He couldn't help but smirk inwardly, holding her a little closer, while she glared.

"Father, may I present to you, the Princess Tamina" He stepped behind her. "Tus wishes to make a union with her people through marriage, and it is my deepest wish that this win your approval," he stressed his last word, a tone of urgency in it, though none detected it.

King Sharaman observed the princess, who looked quite uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "In all my travels you highness," the king said, with great emotion, "I have come across a more beautiful city."

Dastan saw how her eyes glazed over in fury, though her face was composed. Tamina held her head high, and coolly responded, "You should have seen it before your horde of camel-riding illiterates descended upon it."

Upon the Creator, Dastan groaned. Of course, she would have to make some remark. Tamina looked across at him, her eyebrows arched, showing her insubordination. Dastan wondered he ought not have said anything earlier. Perhaps he had, most unintentionally goaded her into incivility.

Many were likewise shocked, the fact a mere princess dared to address their King as such. Dastan stole a glance at his father, to be rather surprised.

King Sharaman looked far from insulted. He look looked at her appraisingly, then loudly pronounced, "Clearly she will make a fine queen."

Dastan grinned, observing the princess' outrage as she turned her face away from the King. There was something almost, delightful, the way she seemed so furious all the time. He knew, he had yet to encounter a noblewoman so proud, so fearless. Or perhaps it was just foolishness. Then again, she was princess of her kingdom.

"But Tus already has enough wives," the King continued, as all attention turned to him once more. Dastan was anxious now. Surely the king would not deny Tus and the princesses' hand in marriage if he approved of her?

King Sharaman turned to him, his eyes twinkling. "You Dastan, might take fewer chances if such a jewel waited in your chambers."

His mind blurred. Did he hear his Father right! Was he actually implying that-

"The Princess of Alamut will be your first wife!"King Sharaman declared.

Dastan was shocked, He was utterly shocked. He certainly felt dizzy now. This, this couldn't be happening! He'd never been so staggered, not even the time he first caught sight of the great palace. A wife? Him? Dastan looked at his father, his eyes pleading.

"What say you, Dastan?"

He opened his mouth, though no words poured out. Dastan cast his eyes about the room, spotting the princess. She looked slightly irritated, and a tad self-conscious. But she certainly could mask her shock, Dastan thought. His Father was looking him, grinning.

"Umm…" was all he could croak. The king chortled, looking around at the room.

King Sharaman teased, "He plunges into a hundred foes without fault, but before marriage he For those who say he is not yet wise." The king winked, and the room erupted in laughter.

Dastan felt his knees go weak. How was he supposed to get out this one? The princess was Tus' bride. Would he have to kill her now? He looked at her once more. He glanced at her once more. She was very beautiful, his mind wandered, with all the right curves...

Stop, he commanded himself. Oh, upon the gods, he needed to get out here! "I need a drink," a mumbled, turning around.

Suddenly, there was a withering shriek. Dastan turned, distracted. In horror he watched as King Sharaman, his father let out another unworldly screech. The laughter had died, as all watch the King writhe. The robe, his prayer robe , it was burning!

He rushed back, all other thoughts blown out of his head. What was happening? "Father!" Dastan screamed. The King starting pulling the robe, writhing in agony. It was smoking! What was happening to his father?

"Stand aside, out of my way!" Garsiv yelled out, nearing him.

Someone screamed."Oh God, the robe! It's poisoned!"

I was wondeirng if I should add a lot more extra scenes, and such to this story? Would you guys like that? Hehe, one way to tell me would be reviewwwwwwww.=)