Prince of Persia 1. Chapter 1

**AN: So this is my first story on here, yay! But anyways, I rated it T because honestly I don't quite know what will happen in further chapters. This chapter is fairly short but I think the next ones will be longer, well I'll try and make them longer. Reviews are always welcome, thanks.**

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**_Chapter 1_  
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**_My Son_**

He felt his way through the darkness, taking cautious steps forward so if he bumped into anything he wouldn't make too much noise. He was getting better at sneaking around, once he had found this room with no lantern just by feeling where he was. He was proud of himself for that.

He froze as he heard him stir. Once he gave a big huff of breath, the boy continued towards him. The marble was cold under his bare feet and he was grateful when he felt the soft rug beneath his feet. By now his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he found small rays of moonlight shining in through the open window. Occasional soft breezes would blow into the room bringing with it a gentle smell of lavender from the gardens below.

The rays shone on the man's sleeping face. He was lying on his side with his left arm stretched around his head under the faded red pillow. His hair was free of the usual braid he kept it in.

The boy gently places his hand on the man's shoulder, shaking him lightly. The man's dark brown eyes open slowly then blink a few times. They settle on the young boy's own soft eyes.

"Papa?" The boy asks slowly, testing to see if his father was angry that he woke him up. He knows that his father must get up early to meet with the boy's two uncles before they left for war but he just had to see his face. This was the first time his father will leave him with auntie Tamina while he is fighting for the Persian Empire.

"What is it my son?" His voice isn't hinting anything but tenderness, smiling at the sight of his child. He sits up and lifts his son up onto his bed. The boy wraps his arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs his six year old son tightly and then loosens but his son doesn't. "Kas, what's the matter?" He asks again.

Kas takes a deep breath in and releases it, "I had a bad dream again papa." His father starts to soothingly rub his back. "I was running through the sands of Persia while men in black chased after me. They were throwing spikes and knives, like the ones I've seen your soldiers using. One hit me in my back but I kept running, I kept running cause I knew I'd find you and you'd protect me. But another one hit me in my leg and I fell, the men grabbed my feet and started to drag me away." He sniffles. "I screamed for you and then you showed up but you only held your hand to me. I tried to grab it but I couldn't because the men were dragging me away from you and you weren't protecting me!" He wails. Kas cries into his father's chest as the man's strong, warm arms wrapped around his son. His lips were pressed against the top of the boy's head, eyes squeezed shut. He hated seeing Kas like this and not being able to do anything but embrace him.

"Sh, sh, it was just a dream." He says comfortingly. "I'm here." Kas's hug tightens as he continues to cry. He continues to cry for about another minute. "I need you to never forget that I will always protect you no matter what." Kas nods slightly. His breathing slows to almost normal as he rests his head against his father.

"Papa, can I sleep here tonight?" He looks up at the man with hope swimming in his eyes. They are drooping already. This is the last time he'll see them for two months. They always look to the man for protection, hope, answers.

He smiles, "You've softened me my son." Kas smiles up at him and nestles into his father's arms, falling asleep within minutes. He watches his son for as long as he can stay awake until he finally lays his head back and sleeps.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So I don't think there is much to say other than reviewmurre always welcome and special thanks to TatianaOnegina on deviantart for the picture!**

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_**Chapter 2**_  
_**Faith**_

The sky turns a soft orange as the sun peaks above the glorious sand dunes surrounding the royal city of Nasaf. The prince's chambers glow gold with the morning light. The chain mail on his armor shimmers as the light hits each link. Sounds of bustling soldiers drift up to the window.

During the night Kas has rolled off of his father's chest. Garsiv slowly opens his eyes to the early glow. He lies there a few minutes just looking at Kas's peaceful face.

He wishes that he didn't have to risk his life so early in his son's life. His son is only six. He doesn't want to leave him fatherless. So many things could happen while he's gone. He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind; he's the best soldier the army has seen. He'll come back alive. And there is nothing to worry about here, Tus's children will watch over him.

Garsiv stands and walks to the open window and looks out to the open desert. Within hours they will be riding through them on their way to battle, a worrying thought and yet an intriguing one. He's always looked forward to battles. To cut down the lesser enemy and to fight to the death with a stronger one, it gets his adrenaline flowing.

The man dresses himself in the armor he's worn for years and trusts to hold up. He picks up his helmet and turns it around in his hands for a moment. There are both beautiful carvings and terrifyingly deep scars in the silver metal. Walking to the foot of the bed, where Kas is still sleeping, he places the helmet on the small bedside table.

The door to his chambers suddenly slams open. He quickly reaches for his sword's hilt but stops when he sees who exactly it is. "Brother! It's tim-"

"Dastan you drunken fool, keep quiet!" He cuts off his brother in a harsh whisper, pointing at Kas who is still fast asleep. At this time Garsiv is grateful that his son is a deep sleeper. The older brother gives the younger an angered look and turns back to Kas. He sighs and leans over him, kissing his forehead one more time before leaving the room with Dastan.

"Come on, Tus is waiting for us both." Dastan urges. He starts briskly walking down the hall.

"Tell him he can wait a few more minutes, I need to go see my wife."

"No need, she's down there already." Garsiv follows his brother down the halls of the palace. "It's interesting that a pregnant woman can get up earlier than her husband who is the General of the Army." He jokes, lightly pushing Garsiv's shoulder. He retaliates by shoving Dastan through a door which happens to be the harem. He continues walking with his head held high and a smirk embroidered on his face. He hears the women gasp, a nervous laugh from Dastan and then the door slamming shut. Dastan catches up to his brother and doesn't say anything further.

"How does Tamina feel about you leaving when she bears your first child?' Garsiv turns the tables onto Dastan.

Dastan grumbles as he remembers Tamina's reaction, "She wasn't the happiest… and she might of thrown a vase…" He trails off with the last few words.

"I'm sure she was disappointed when she missed." Dastan sarcastically laughs.

"Okay then, how did Adileh react? You do remember that she is due in little less than a month, right?" He says, grabbing Garsiv's shoulder and turning him around. He was just about to open the door to the royal stables. "She will have your child while you're off fighting, Tamina will still have four months by the time I get back to Alamut."

"She understands that this is my duty as the General and she stands by my choices." He says in a rather serious tone, pushing the stable door open. He takes long strides to Hashim's stall. Dastan remains standing by the door, arms crossed. Garsiv unlatches Hashim's door and leads him outside where all the tack is. His horse paws at the ground, eager to get moving. The prince smirks, he and Hashim share the same attitude, eager and stubborn. He pats his neck.

"Dastan, come and help me get his bridle on will you?" They have always had a tough time getting Hashim to cooperate when it comes to the bridle. Dastan takes hold of the animal's large, strong head. Garsiv sets his hand on Hashim's nose. The horse swings his head, stomps his front foot nearly crushing Garsiv's foot and snorts. Dastan gets hold of his head again. The second Hashim opens his mouth Garsiv slips the bit into his mouth and from there he slips the headpiece over his horse's ears, adjusts the throat lash and fits the shafron to his forehead and muzzle.

"Are you ever going to get a horse that is easier to tack up and doesn't bite?" Dastan complains, still holding Hashim's head while Garsiv lifts the saddle over and onto his back. Hashim takes in a large breath and holds it so Garsiv can't tighten the girth. But he can't hold it forever and when his stomach deflates Garsiv tightens the girths.

"Hashim is the best horse that has ever served me and I intend to keep it that way until he's too old to hold my weight." He stops his work with the stirrups and looks over at Dastan, smirking. "Besides if he weren't here who would bite you?" Dastan scowls which only makes Garsiv chuckle.

Dastan returns to the previous conversation they were having. "What about Kas?" Garsiv can tell that Dastan is just worried that his older brother might be making the wrong decision.

"Don't bring my son into this." He growls, clenching his fingers. The thought that Kas might be fatherless scratches at the back of his mind.

"How can I not! He is the most important part of your life and you his. Did you place foolish faith into your son's heart? Do you honestly think that you will come back from this unscathed? We are going to be battling one of the strongest fortresses in Persia!" Dastan bursts in frustration.

"I did place faith into Kas's heart and it may be foolish or not but all that matters to me is that it stays in his heart." His sigh is wavered. "I put it there because… when he has faith in me to protect him, I have faith in myself." Dastan is struck silent. Garsiv takes his horse's reins in hand and leads him to the front of the palace where Tus and the rest of the army is waiting. When he passes under his room's window he stops.

"Papa!" Kas calls excitedly from the window. Garsiv looks up to find Kas waving wildly at him. He is, after all, only six and may not know the seriousness of the situation his father and uncles are walking into. Jesapa is one of Persia's strongest fortresses and if they succeed in breaking off of the empire with their civil war smaller cities will gain confidence and try to break off as well, leaving the Persian Empire in ruins.

Garsiv looks up at Kas, smiling when he sees him wearing the helmet he left for him. He knows that Kas will be wearing that everyday around the palace now. He brings his own hand up and waves back at Kas.

"Take care of your mother until I get back!" He yells up at him with a slight laugh. Kas's eyes brighten, giving a huge grin he nods. He turns away from the window when something catches his attention. Garsiv gives a dismal sigh and leads Hashim around the corner and to the growing crowd.

The soldiers and civilians part to let Garsiv and his horse through. Soldiers are keeping the crowd a distance away from King Tus. Once he enters the clearing his wife runs up to him as fast as she can in her situation. She keeps her hand on her melon of a stomach. Black hair and blue dress flutter about behind her.

Garsiv hands the reins to a nearby soldier who in turn takes the animal to stand next to Tus and his horse. Adileh wraps her arms around her husband's neck. He gently hugs her back. She pulls back, hands on his shoulder and kisses him goodbye.

"Be as safe as you can, my prince." She smiles her sweet, motherly smile. She is several years younger than Garsiv and still as exquisite as the day he met her. He can't resist kissing her once more before Tus calls out his name. "Go." She whispers.

"He turns and starts towards his horse and brothers. Dastan has appeared, probably during the time he was with Adileh. His younger brother avoids eye contact and fiddles with a lock of his horse's mane.

Garsiv stops in front of Tus and bows. Even though Tus is his brother he is now the King of Persia, not the Prince of Persia. Garsiv must show respect for the king, the same respect he gave his father. King Sharaman passed away a year after they laid siege on the holy city of Alamut and a year before Kas was born.

He mounts his horse and releases an anxious breath. This is the first time he's been anxious before a battle and it feels strange. His stomach knots and his forehead becomes beaded with sweat. Tus's laugh brings him back to himself.

Tus claps his younger brother on the back firmly, "We haven't even left yet and you're already sweating like a man who'd been fighting for hours!" Garsiv gives a slight smile at his brother's observation.

"It's just the heat." This isn't exactly the truth nor a lie. The heat does help the sweat form but the real reason why is his anxiousness.

Tus grins, "I'm sure it is." With that he lightly kicks his horse into a trot, signaling that they are off. The time that it takes to travel through the streets of Nasaf seems to fly by and in no time they are amongst the golden dunes.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So I won't be able to updathese is as much as I would like anymore because of the dreaded thing known as school. And Sorry this is relatively short and not as swell rewritten towards the end**

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_**Chapter 3**_

_**Mama**_

"Right!" Kas jumps the direction that was called, receiving a small smack on the shoulder with a wooden sword. He hears a heavy sigh. He didn't mean to jump that way, his body acted before his mind. Kas tries to slip the darkness off his head but a stronger hand grabs his thin wrist rather firmly, even if he did try and wiggle his fingers there was no way he'd be able to. He bites back a small yelp. It was sure to bruise. He's never liked training with this person. They were always so rough compared to his father.

Kas has practiced this plenty of times with his father but they went much slower than he's being forced to move right now. The idea of this is to have a blindfold tied over the trainee's eyes and swing a wooden sword at them so they have to anticipate where the strike will land without seeing. They practice this so that if an enemy comes from behind they will be able to defend themselves.

"Let go me Danush!" He tries to sound like his father but it is hard with his weak voice. The grammar problems don't help either. Danush just laughs at the pitiful attempt at authority and shakes him around by his tiny arm. Kas will tell his father about this when he comes home but he also knows that his father won't be able to punish Danush for bullying his son. Danush is, after all, the king's son. Kas's father can't lay a finger on him.

"Danush, let him go!" This time he listens. This voice though belongs to a girl, the same voice that called the direction, Ava, Danush's younger sister. She is only two years older than Kas but Danush still listens to her over him, which bothers Kas. Danush and Ava are the King's children, meaning Danush is in line for the throne. Danush is five years older than Kas.

He reaches for the blindfold again, this time successful in taking it off. The sudden brightness blinds him momentarily. Kas wipes his sweaty forehead with his forearm. They have been out here since breakfast; it's now an hour until dinner will be ready.

Meals are different, too different. His father isn't there to scold him for talking with food in his mouth or reminding him to sit up straight. There are no strong shoulders that he can fall asleep against after a filling dinner and when he wakes up he finds himself in his bed, under his Egyptian cotton blanket. He misses his father terribly. He wants, more than anything, for his father to come home tomorrow. Completely unharmed, as if he never left. He can't be selfish though, so instead he counts down the days until they arrive in Nasaf, victorious.

"Ava, you can't yell out directions, he needs to figure them out himself. That's the point of this." Danush says angrily. He puts his fists on his hips, "Besides, you shouldn't be out here. Go back inside and help mother or the servants or anybody, just leave."

She crosses her arms in defiance, "No. I want to be out here. It's too loud in the palace right now. Servants are running all over the place and they are rushing in and out of Auntie Adileh's room." She stops and thinks for a moment. Kas looks at the older boy and sees something in his eyes. It's not sadness, nor is it amazement, it is more like fear but Kas doesn't understand why. "My room is right next to hers remember? The door was slamming shut and breaking open and a woman was yelling at other people." She rambles on and on. Being a six year old Kas looses interest easily and his mind starts to think about how hungry he is.

"Did you smell food cooking?" He blurts. His cousins look at him confused for a moment but she replies with a no. Dinner isn't ready yet! Kas complains to himself. He hears Danush asking Ava a lot of questions but Kas doesn't care, he just wants to eat.

He starts to walk off to one of the large wooden doors. He grabs the handle and is about to pull it open when he's dragged back by his shoulders. He kicks and tries to hit who ever grabbed him but he is pushed back towards Ava. "Why'd you do that!?" Kas yells at Danush. The older boy doesn't answer. He just stares at the door and holds his hands out in front of him. His hands alone are telling the two to stay there. "I just want to get a pom- um… pomegranate." He struggles with the word.

"O-okay," Danush stutters. Why is he acting so weird? 'I'll get you one, j-just stay here and I'll be back here in a few minutes." He turns and takes a few steps towards the door. "Just stay here." He orders. To show that he will, Kas sits down and crosses his legs. Ava does the same. Danush turns back to the door, "Uncle, you should have stayed." Kas hears Danush mutter this but by the look on Danush's face he wasn't supposed to.

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The blistering sun bears down on him but he can't feel it with all the adrenaline flowing through him. His strikes are brutal and swift, slicing through the enemy's flesh with requisite ease. With every swing brings a new spurt of crimson. Pained cries escape his victim's throats as his sword hits.

They sent Dastan in first. After what he did in Alamut they decided to use the stealth method more. He snuck in with his men and managed to open the main gate to the city without raising the alarm. From there the army marched in as Dastan took care of the archers. There were many Jesapian soldiers but they were easy to pick through and within a few hours they have made their way to the heart of Jesapa.

Garsiv pulls his sword out of the last soldier's chest and kicks the body aside. Groans from both Jesapian and Persian soldiers filter through his ears as he passes them on his way to a soldier leaning against a wall.

The ruler of the city isn't a coward who hides in his house under guard waiting for his enemy to come to him, no, he goes to them. He came out and fought with his soldiers, a true leader. But he had been captured by the Persian forces and held captive until the battle was over.

Dastan rounds a corner and into the square the Persian were just fighting in, swords in hand. "You just couldn't wait for me could you?" He says to Garsiv with a hint of disappointment in his tone.

He smirks, "Well if it makes you feel better, I didn't fight all that much. These Jesapians are all weak. They were virtually wiped out by my first line of soldiers." There is movement down by his foot. When he looks down he sees a soldier's shaking hand reaching for a fallen sword. Garsiv steps forward, directly onto the man's fingers. Under his weight the man's fingers crumble as he moans, no strength for anything louder. He kicks the sword out of reach.

"Where is Tus?" Dastan sheaths his swords.

"He is with Parshan, ruler of this place." Persian troops start walking into the courtyard with makeshift stretchers. Garsiv walks away from Dastan and helps his men lift alive but injured Persians onto the stretchers.

"Why aren't you with him, you don't give up the chance to rub victory in their faces too easily." He jokes. Garsiv smirks at his remark.

"He didn't want me there, instead he ordered me to help carry the wounded to our healers. And honestly, I don't exactly want to make anymore enemies, for my children's sake." Dastan goes silent for a moment then heavily sighs. "And you would do good by assisting our men get the wounded to our tents." He says, kneeling down next to a soldier with a fractured leg. The man groans.

"Come on Bis." He says to Bis who then jumps down off the roof he was on. The two get busy with finding alive soldiers.

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Kas has gotten restless waiting for his cousin to come back with his food. He's jumped up and down, practiced his free running that his uncle Dastan has been teaching him secretly, he's raced Ava around the courtyard several times, sat there twiddling his thumbs and stared at his reflection in his father's helmet. He left more than thirty minutes ago and the six year old Kas is hungry, bored and grumpy.

He puts the helmet on, pushes the brim above his eyes and stalks towards the door, determined to get a pomegranate. Ava doesn't stop him but follows him instead, hungry herself.

The two kids walk through the grand hall. Marble floor adorned with an exquisite, circular design in the center of the room, long, colourful Persian and Egyptian tapestries hang from the walls and flower pots brimming with vibrant flowers border arches and doorways give a small taste of the wealth and life of the royal family. Few people, other than foreign dignitaries, see the inside of the palace of Nasaf.

They near a grand staircase leading to the second floor where everyone's rooms are located. He looks up when the sound of quickened breathing draws near. A woman servant sprints down the stairs almost tripping over her own feet. This sparks interest in Kas, his hunger diminishes. Once the woman disappears around a corner Kas runs up the stairs two at a time.

As he nears a well known room more commotion becomes apparent. Woman are running in and out of that room with towels in their arms, both clean and dripping red. A woman stops when she sees the young boy standing in the hall. Her eyes widen with fear but she quickly runs into the room.

"Your Grace, h-he's here!" She says with panic lining her words. A different woman walks out of the room and meets his gaze. His Aunt Donya, the Queen. She nods at the servant woman to go back in the room. The Queen hastily walks towards Kas and Ava, eager to distract the boy.

"Kas, what are you dong here? Aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" She says sweetly, like his mother would. She looks back as another woman comes running out.

"I saw people running and came to see what happened... and they aven't even cooked dinner yet." He pouts, but returns to the events at hand. "What happened?" The Queen opens her mouth but before she can say anything an ear piercing screams echoes throughout the hall. The young boy's face has fear written all over it.

"Mama? Mama!" He shrieks trying to push past his Aunt. Tears run down his cheeks. With a mother's ease, Donya scoops Kas into her arms and carries him down the hall. He tries to fight against her but his attempts are useless. He cries out for his mother one last time before they reach the staircase.

Something other than silence answers, a baby's wails.


End file.
