Chapter Two

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Perfectly she fit into his arms to occupy that space which was so preciously close and if it was created just for her and her alone. How tightly and protectively he held her, yet with the uttermost delicacy. Dastan could feel her heart, even though her back was pressed against his chest, how it fluttered nervously, as if one of those exotic birds that made their homes in the golden cages in the palace garden. It was an apt comparison and he very much knew it to be, but had no intentions of confessing such a thing. Smartly he reasoned that his princess would not fancy being paralleled to a bird in a gilded cage, no matter if it were true. A golden gilded cage but one that did not exist as literally as the ones in the garden, more an invisible cage that was marked marked by the henna upon her hands, the orphrey upon her garments. It was quite apparent to him and had been so even upon their first meeting, though then she was more of a lion in the cage, as the bars were rattled. Simultaneously it just as apparent that Tamina trusted him enough to let him kiss her, touch her, hold her unlike any other had ever done and to that trust Dastan would be adamantly loyal to. He would not betray that trust to bring up her being a bird, no one wanted such a comparison.

To be held by a lover was far different then to be held by one's parents Tamina reasoned. Dastan's hands had gone about about her waist, hers laced on top. It was genuinely as comfortable, as comforting as she had imagined being held to be. Now if only she had picked a more comfortable perch as the window seal, though warm, was still stone. She had not thought of that when she sat here, it was simply routine. This was where she watched the sunset when she inherited these chambers that were once that of her mother's and many mothers before them both. Only now did it seem much more comforting and much more powerful of a spell, now that she was not alone to watch the sun depart. It felt...as if she were not alone, and she was not.

Tamina shifted slightly and her silken hair tickled Dastan's throat while her eyes chased after the sun before it was lost behind the mountains. From the realm of one god, the one who governed over the sun, to another, the lover of the sun god who ruled in the night. Soon the moon would rise, bright and luminous in the place of the sun as the story of her childhood did say it would. She seemed to sigh, confused for a second if it were either of contentment or another feeling she had yet to master-for the most part, what she felt in the presence of her prince were those Tamina had not known of previously. In the presence of suitors or any brash man who had thought her a mere pretty face, a mere pawn upon the board to be taken as pleased with her city, Tamina had mastered using courtesy as armor. Her weaponry many a poetic word that held to it a simultaneous sting. Just as easily she could turn about and play coy, use the beauty, which despite her dislike of it, she had been renowned for. Unbeknownst to her, Dastan had learned this the hard way.

It not as audible a sigh as one might have imagined, but he certainly felt it along with new found ease as she rested against him. It seemed terribly sad to Dastan that her entire life she had never seen the dawn or the sun diminish into night in their sincere forms, instead she had always had watched them restricted from a window. At that point, he made a mental to himself, to his princess, to take her past the walls of the palace, the walls of the city and just a bit further to see the sunset.

Her eyes went to where she had placed the sun not too long ago, a full moon in it's place, and the corners of her lips began to twitch into a smile. The moon was an old friend as was the sun, one that she was always pleased to see, and for some reason or another Dastan bowed his head impishly kissed that smile. Tamina looked to him as it did turn into a full smile that showed of her perfectly straight teeth, and it was a gesture, in his mind, that was just as dazzling as her laughter. Dastan decided then that though he very much treasured getting to know her on their previous adventure, as that was when he fell in love with her, that getting to know her in this entirely opposite of circumstances was just as rewarding. Not once before had she done either of those things, smile so fully nor laugh. There had not been time to smile so freely, or to dare to life when the situation was so dire. Furthermore, he seemed oddly certain that Tamina would have done such things on an everyday occasion. These were little signs, little tokens that he unlike all others had gone and made it past her heavily guarded walls. Once more, Dastan had gone and done what was deemed as impossible. Only this time, did he think it was cruel to claim that it was impossible to romance Tamina. Not impossible, more so exceptionally difficult. However, she was just as mortal, and she too possessed a heart, one that she could give away as she saw fit. Which was the very reason why Dastan had not asked anything of her, had not forced his hand. He understood that his princess had been forced into compliancy on many things, and he did not wish something as genuine, as sincere as falling in love to be forced. If this were destiny then, and they were fated to be a couple once more, then it should have been at her own pacing. Already she possessed his heart, and that would not married for the protection of her people, but she was free to give away her heart to whom, she pleased. Unconditionally.

These seemingly subtle, small gestures were milestones to him, just as they were to her. She closed her eyes and tucked back under his neck, which was to Dastan a gesture done in good faith, in trust. It felt very strange to her, not being held or touched, on the contrary those were both very grand, but feeling this way for him. It felt natural, it felt as if it were right. Destiny never felt as validating as it did now. It were as if this emotion was something that she had disregarded, and forgotten, yet managed to relocate in his arms. Naturally, she did not protest this, and instead was rather content.

"Is there a tale of the sun and moon in Persian?"

She questioned innocently, it was a story that Tamina was told for quite some time, before she retained the meaning, its purpose. It seemed fitting now, eerily appropriate and she was too eager to share it with her prince, as he considered if he had heard it. Or a variation, seeing how the one Tamina learned was in the old tongue. That sounded like a children's tale, and his childhood was not conducive to telling such tales. Legends, myths, such stories did not make up his youth, like they did in Tamina's. A child upon the streets who knew these things better then how to survive day in and out was not promised good fortunes. Such knowledge was nearly as useless as a headful of sand. In good nature, he could mock her for this, yet as he did not wish to relinquish his hold, Dastan elected to play it safe. He would not make such a promising development with her, then turn around and forfeit it all for a memory that he did not wish to tell her. Tamina is a princess and as such, should never have to know, see nor feel those emotions that he knew, when he was a child in Nasaf.

"Not to my knowledge."

Perhaps she pitied him for not knowing it, for despite being carefully selected by the gods, had such a difficult youth. The princess began to speak, it was Alamutian to his ears which differed to Persian as it sounded more delicate. To his ears Persian sounded a bit sharp, while Alamutian was slow with more rhythm to it. Yet the sounds were not too similar to what he had heard here, and Dastan decided that it was not this current dialect. With that deduction it was somewhat reasonable and he assumed it was either the one, or close to the one that was engraved onto the Dagger of Time. A language long dead, but one that she had to upkeep as the princess, the priestess, and a guardian. Such a daunting set of tasks for a young girl to transition in to. Still, it was beautiful to his ears although he was more confused then hearing the variation of what was spoken in the holy city now. Alamutian was difficult to learn, but now it's ancient form? It was the equivalent to speaking Persian but in the manner that it was used some hundred and sixty years ago, if not more. He was at a complete loss to what was being said and for a second wished he was as clever with dialects as either of his brothers who had been reared since birth to be fluent in five. Dastan simply listened. It sounded almost as if she were singing, and that itself was a rather grand idea. Each word was elongated, its pronunciation rich, around six stanzas, like poem. When she finished Tamina paused to collect her breath, then she started into a translation, without the same artistic flourishes as the original-as there were a great deal of words that did not translate from one tongue, the ancient, to another, Persian, neatly.

"The sun and the moon were once forbidden lovers, they loved each other from afar but had duties, titles that placed them in opposite of worlds. Yet they were not discouraged, and for a few short hours, each would creep out into the dusk to be with each other. In each other's presence, they glowed."

"What is the purpose of telling this tale to children, princess, what of its morals?"

He questioned just as innocently as she had. Though he had not heard such a tale on the streets, such were not conducive to that life. Yet when Dastan was elevated to princedom, he learned of them, stories and having family members to recite them. As soon as he was proficient in reading he youngest prince had studied all that he could get his hands upon. He was bright enough to know that such tales, despite being meant for children, had meaning to them and likewise more then a story to tell in passing. They were stories with morals, as this one was. Perhaps he could have discovered it for himself, as children were supposed to be able to derive its meaning, but Dastan saw no reason to deny himself hearing her silky voice. It was prettier to hear words spoken in the old tongue.

"Is someone glowing?"

"In a sense."

Tamina smiled quiet coy, after all in the most literal sense they were bathed in a glow of moonlight and by a trick of the lighting, each did glow now. Again she fancied herself clever, and Dastan thought the same but was just as clever for the moral had, in fact, dawned on him and he had playfully mocked her when he asked his second question. The story was certainly worth the wait, as was she.

Dastan could not help but smile as a softer smile pulled on her lips. The implication was quite clear to her as well and was simple: they as a pair were respectively the sun and moon, two very opposite of lovers and despite that meant for each other. He by virtue of being bold, and crass if she were to believe rumors, was naturally cast as the sun. It was a charismatic role, a bright role. Naturally, she respectively then was cast as the moon, the more mysterious of the pair yet by all standards upon a same level of respect as the sun.

"Hope. There is always hope, no matter how it may feel that odds are stacked in ill favor."

The moon and sun were told that despite being destined for each other, there was little chance that they could have been together. Yet this daunted neither of the figures. To Dastan, that sounded an entirely valid moral to teach through such a tale and furthermore, a moral that was hers. He mused quietly upon this and decided that it was the reason that she had never broken down on their previous journey, aside from that outburst when he threatened to abandon her in "the wilderness" and take the dagger. Tamina had believed. She had not faltered when she spoke of the ultimatum when she very well knew the price, and she had not wanted people to die on behalf of her mistake. She had faith in humanity, in her gods and just as importantly, faith in Dastan when he himself had none. Tamina had only genuinely cried when she was about to die, and she had hoped the entire way, for the best. It was his turn to close his eyes, to process exactly what she had said, it's almost tragic. She slipped from his embrace and his eyes quickly opened, Dastan had no intentions of losing her again.

"Dastan, I see the same hope in your eyes."

Tamina lingered in the depths of the second chamber, under the archway that led to the bedroom. She did not seem to need to specify that she saw that hope, particularly when Dastan looked to her. Tamina had seen it these last twenty-six days. His princess was right, he had been hoped all this time, even wanted to pray that Tamina would fall in love with him. Hoped that she would regain that twinkle within her eyes, the way subtle way that she smiled and could speak nothing with words, but volumes with her eyes. He hoped that she would let him love her. Upon this night, each saw many things in each others eyes.