Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the film franchise. None of the characters, cities, or other things occurring in this story belong to me. Please let me know if anything bothers you.

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Dastan waits until one man leaves his horse unattended for too long. When the man returns, the horse is gone, and so is Dastan. He rides out of Avrat with few people paying attention to him. The ones who do notice yell at him for cutting across their paths and interrupting their business.

Aksh is still waiting exactly where Dastan left him: a safe distance from the city, back on a ridge overlooking the still-arriving dignitaries. While he attempts to devise a plan further than catching Princess Tamina, he cuts his sleeves. He has no doubt that should Sheik Amar and his "enduringly indebted" Ngbaka Seso find him, as they are undoubtedly searching for him, a repeat of his jacket stuck to a post will occur, only with his shirt instead of a well-made cloth jerkin. In addition, it enables him to attend to the minor scratch one of the Persian soldiers inflicted upon his arm.

His braces and gauntlet are in Alamut, left behind in the scramble to survive the melee following the murder accusations. Everything aside from the clothes on his back and the sword ceremony dictated he wear had been left in one of the chambers. His honor, already damaged by his father's reprimand, had vanished the moment Garsiv demanded he be seized. What had he done to make Nizam want to frame him? What had he done to make everyone, Father included, believe he was capable of killing the first adult to show him kindness? Why had Tamina leapt to help him escape even though with him in chains she would have had a much easier time reclaiming her precious dagger?

Too many questions, too many suspicions. Dastan needs to focus on catching the princess. Without her there are no answers. She has a head start and he does not know where she is going, but the thought of Seso imbedding a knife in his bare flesh to prevent an escape is too painful for him, and he spurs Aksh towards Alamut. Garsiv is nothing if not the best; Aksh is powerful and fast. In less than two days' ride, Dastan sneaks back into Alamut, back into the room he was supposed to share with Garsiv before their father's death.

Both Alamutian and Persian sentinels hardly notice more than a flutter of cloth and leather as he climbs the castle walls and infiltrates the chamber. In all honesty, it surprises him that his things remain in the room. He'd have thought Tus would destroy all reminders of his "little brother." He knows Garsiv would have if he wasn't so busy trying to catch him.

A few minutes later, Dastan escapes the same way he climbed in, and Aksh is back on the trail. He stops at a stream to refill his canteen and water Aksh, and he decides to put on the braces. He can't shake the feeling that he needs them on his arms instead of wrapped in an old cloth hanging from Aksh's saddle. Seso was a little too accurate for his liking.

The heat of the day increases as Dastan struggles to pull the leather over his burning skin. He doesn't normally dress himself for war. Usually, Bis helps him with his armor.

Bis.

This is the first time Dastan has had to actually think about his friend. He hasn't grieved properly, for either his father or Bis, although he sent a prayer for his father when he was in his funeral carriage. Bis has probably been disposed of, dumped into an unnamed grave or left for wild animals, like so many enemies of Persia. Bis deserves better. Would that Dastan had all the apples of Persia at hand when Bis told him to save himself. Had Bis known he was going to die? Had he known Dastan would abandon him while he tried to clear his name? Probably, and still Bis had chosen to protect him.

"My friend, be with God."

He finally manages to yank the braces onto his arms, and he tightens the straps. He takes pride in the fact that if Tamina were faced with the same task, she would fail, having had numerous handmaidens to wait on her since the day she was born.

Aksh is rested and ready to continue the journey back to Avrat where Dastan hopes to catch Tamina's trail before she travels too far ahead. He shouldn't have worried. As he passes a lone tree standing out in the desert, he notices heavy tracks circling the tree and leading a new direction from either Avrat or Alamut. By the looks of it, the tracks are fresh, no more than a day old. He'll catch her soon, even though it looks as if she is traveling with a large group of horsemen.

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Tamina sighs happily when the slave girl of one of the horsemen offers to do her hair. It has been so long since she has experienced the pleasure of a comb untangling her tresses and deft fingers braiding it neatly. She looks much better with her hair done, although she doesn't much care for the lewd stares the men give her.

She glares at them, a stick for the fire cradled in her lap. "You should know," she says to the men gathered around them, "that I knocked a prince of Persia unconscious with a bone." They back away, settling around the fire and ignoring her. Later, she sets the slave girl to watch over her as she sleeps. It has been an exhausting day, and really, Tamina isn't used to running all over the world without proper rest. At least she does not have to worry about the treacherous prince since she long ago slipped away from his care. Even if he catches up to her, she has promised the men wealth should they hide her. All the same, she keeps the dagger tucked under her back as she drifts off.

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Dastan comes upon them in the dead of night. She shouldn't have traveled in such a heavy pack; their tracks gave them away...and slowed her down. He is surprised Garsiv isn't on their trail yet. He observes the men from a distance as they extinguish the fire and lead their horses away from the sleeping princess. So she trusted them…And yet she wouldn't trust him. He can't help the hurt from her slight, but he brushes it off; they are enemies, after all. She has made that perfectly clear. As long as she is asleep, he doesn't have to worry about her escaping.

As soon as the men leave with their one slave girl, Dastan crawls to Tamina's bedroll, silent like the oversized cat he is now known as. She turns in her sleep, sighing softly as if something weighing on her conscience has been released and she can rest easy now. He doesn't care. Her worries will return when she finds the dagger gone again. He doesn't find it near the bedroll, which means she keeps it on her person.

"Impossible," Tamina's voice chides, and Dastan pauses, waiting for her to sit up and demand an answer for his presence. When she remains fast asleep, he inches toward her, fingers crawling beneath her warm body to gently, gently slide the dagger into the night air.

Now, all that is left is to wait for her to awaken. He retreats to beyond the ridge where he left Aksh. Garsiv's horse is unsettled, but with a few simple words, Dastan calms him. Then he settles down and closes his eyes. He prays Garsiv will hold off on following the tracks marching from Avrat, or that he will travel all the way to Alamut before realizing that Dastan is gone like a wisp of smoke on a windy day. Aksh stamps, kicking sand into his face, so he pulls his scarf over his mouth and nose. It will help keep the chill of the night from his face anyway.

Tired from his long ride and even longer ordeal, Dastan drifts off, confident he can wake faster than the spoiled princess.

Fin

A/N: Thank you for reading.