Title: A Few Grains Before

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: Disney owns Prince of Persia, not I

Notes: Wow, thank you to all the people who have read, reviewed and marked my stories as your favorites. That is amazingly kind of all of you. This story came to me and I hope you all enjoy it. I have to slow down on the writing as I am working on another project, but I still have some ideas that I want to write, which I will eventually. :)

Dastan blinked, he had been underground Alamut with Nizam. Tamina was gone, his brothers and father also dead, but when he blinked again there they were. He looked down to find he did not hold the dagger either.

"Dastan?" Tus called out to him.

He licked his lips, stunned in the moment to answer. They were in Tus's tent before the battle in Alamut where everything had changed.

"Maybe you should stop fighting with the soldiers if you are going to let them beat you into incomprehension," Garsiv added.

Dastan smothered his smile. He had to be present in this moment- he had been given another chance to change the once fatal outcome. "Or I'm the only rational one here and have had some sense knocked into me. Have you all forgotten father's orders?"

"Father is not here," Tus stated with a quick glance to their fidgeting uncle. "He does not know about the missive from Alamut to Kosh or the weapons."

"Those are the same weapons that took down my horse in the last battle at Koshkhan," Garsiv interjected, but his brother was always on the side of war.

"Father trusted us," Dastan glanced for a moment at Nazim, then rose from where he was sitting. "He believes family, the bond between brothers is the sword that defends our empire."

Nazim picked up one the swords, testing it. "These swords are what are defending Koshkhan. They are using these to strike at our men, at your brothers, Dastan."

Dastan could see it so clearly this time-how his uncle was forcing his choice to set his plan in motion. Dastan had to keep his wits about him so he could stop Nazim. This time Dastan would be the better man no matter what the cost. "Is this the spy who found the weapons?" He gestured to the man in the corner, cold eyes and a striking familiarity gripped Dastan's heart.

The man bowed. "Yes, Sir."

Dastan picked up one of the swords that had spilled to the floor. "I find it difficult to trust spies."

Garsiv snorted. "Such melodrama over an attack, Dastan? Are you a warrior or a merchant?"

Tus patted the middle brother in the chest, but did not stop Dastan.

Dastan pointed the sword loosely at the spy's chest. "If I were to sneak into Alamut tonight and look for forges, would I find any?"

Nizam interrupted, "Dastan, you can't possibly mean to do that. We already have evidence of Alamut's treachery." He opened his arms wide to bring attention to the evidence of the subterfuge- the weapons.

"Uncle, I am from the streets of Nasaf-if someone were to find forges, then it would be me." He brought the sword to the spy's throat. The man did not flinch, but met Dastan's stare.

"Dastan!" Tus exclaimed. "What is this?"

"It's a holy city, spy, are you sure a holy city makes weapons? Because once I come back and swear there are no weapon forges, then I will eviscerate you- have no doubt." Dastan growled, but the spy remained silent. "You serve the Empire and King Sharaman."

"I don't think he needs a reminder, Dastan," Nizam said, standing over Dastan's shoulder.

"We all do," Dastan turned his head to face the traitorous uncle. "Father said do not attack Alamut and we plan to go against his orders?"

"Dastan, Father is more interested in prayers than battle now-" Garsiv moved closer to Dastan.

Dastan shook his head. He had to keep them all safe. "Garsiv, stop- he's our father, praying for us."

Garsiv crossed his arms. "Have you lost your mind or has it truly been addled?"

"No, I want some answers. Are these weapons from Alamut? Tell me the truth and you will have justice."

The man remained silent. Dastan's brothers would only humor him so much before they would dismiss him and worry over his erratic behavior. He decided to take a different approach. "Uncle, this is your man." The spies were governed by Nizam, and giving his uncle such dominion had probably led to fratricide. "Order him to talk."

Nizam lifted his hands up in a jovial manner. "But, Dastan, he already has spoken. Let the man be, he is one of our most trusted spies."

Dastan dropped the sword from the man's throat, bringing it to his shirtsleeve and using the point to pull it up to show the mark of the Hassasins. "Uncle, why do you have Hassasins in your employ when Father disbanded them?" It had taken a moment, but Dastan did recognize the man.

The Hassasin used the attention to strike back, placing two hands on the blade so not to cut himself and pulled Dastan off balance. Dastan stumbled forward, and the Hassasin kicked him in the stomach so he flew back. "Bis, protect Tus!" Dastan got to his feet and charged forward as did Garsiv.

Dastan pushed back the memory of how the battle with the Hassasins had gone previously with Garsiv being killed. The Hassasin pulled out his blade and a short knife, his abilities those of an expert. He held them both off, taking a moment to cut an opening in the tent to let himself out, Dastan and Garsiv followed.

Dastan gave a quick glance to his brother- he had one chance. He grabbed the edge of the opening and flung himself forward as the tent ripped more. He had enough momentum and height for his two feet to hit the Hassasin in the face. He sliced with his sword, clipping Dastan in the side, but it was the last strike of the Hassasin as the momentary stun was enough for Garsiv to get in a fatal strike.

Garsiv held out his hand to Dastan, who accepted the grip to come to standing. Garsiv leaned into his brother. "Can you tell me what is going on?"

Dastan did not answer. He zeroed in on his uncle. "Why did you not follow father's orders and disband the Hassasins? Why did you want to engage Alamut in battle?" He closed the space between himself and Nizam. "Why are you a traitor to your brother?"

Tus stepped forward, around Bis. "Dastan! That is a wild accusation!"

Nizam smiled, reaching out to Tus before focusing on Dastan as if he was scolding a child for a misdeed. "What? Dastan, you are seeing conspiracies everywhere." Nizam laughed. "Job, well done with the Hassasin."

Dastan pointed to the dead body. "He's your man. Your most trusted spy, as you said, as we all heard. Do you deny it?" Dastan did not give his uncle a chance to answer with a lie. "You are pressing Tus into the decision to attack."

"That's enough, Dastan," Tus said. "Do you want me to call in a healer?"

Dastan pulled his robe to see the vivid red against the white. He shook his head, moved next to Tus. "Father told you a good king thinks with his heart." Dastan rested a hand against his chest.

"We were alone-"

"Think about it, Tus. There are supposed to be no Hassasins. You are about to go into a battle with a holy city, which bring the ire of our allies- against father's wishes. Nizam is behind all of this for his own reasons."

"Overthrowing the king?" Garsiv interjected. "Are you saying our uncle wants to overthrow our father?"

"Yes." Dastan felt relieved they were connecting the information. "Our uncle wishes to be king."

Nizam went to Tus's other side to defend himself. "You are speaking blasphemy, boy."

"You will never be king. You don't have the heart for it," Dastan replied to his uncle. "You will die in the shadow of a great man." Sharaman would not have his life cut short.

"Take measure, Tus," Nizam was asking his nephew to make a decision. "Your brother is not himself."

"I will stop you no matter what the cost." Dastan recalled his father's word. A good man would have saved lives, but a great man would have stopped what he knew to be wrong, no matter who was ordering it.

Tus looked between his brother and uncle, fingering the beads at his waist. "One of Dastan's men and one of mine will enter into the city and report back on the forges."

Dastan nodded his acceptance of Tus's decision. They would have to wait, but soon all would be revealed. He placed his hand on the bleeding cut. His uncle was not satisfied; his hand went to rest on his sword. Dastan caught the motion just as one of Nizam's guards attacked him.

He had no sword, having left it outside with the dead Hassasin.

He backed up, dodging the guard, then dove for another alleged Alamutian blade. With the blade he dispatched one guard, then the other loyal Nizam supporter. With no more guards, Nizam pressed his own attack.

Dastan's movement were limited within the tent, he had to bring it outside. His uncle was a formidable opponent, having been one of the brothers' instructors. They were exchanging blows, and the cut Dastan had received earlier had begun to throb with the effort of defense.

Even though it was late in the evening, the soldiers awakened as they heard the exchange. Word was spreading that Prince Dastan had accused Prince Nizam of being a traitor. Dastan became invigorated by the night air as has his uncle. Nizam struck Dastan's shoulder, the same place where his uncle in the other time line had cut him. Dastan dropped the sword in reaction.

Believing Dastan was losing, Nizam rushed in. Dastan bent down, flipping Nizam over his back. Tus's tent had been set up on higher ground, near a small cliff and Nizam fell, landing with a thud.

Garsiv and Tus were making their way down, but Dastan wanted to end this quickly. He dove forward, flipping in midair to land next to his uncle, still struggling to catch his breath after the fall. "You had what every man could ever dream of. Love, respect, and family. But that wasn't enough for you, was it?" Dastan placed his foot on his uncle's chest as Nizam tried to sit up, pushing him back down.

Dastan turned to his waiting brothers. It was finally over, everyone safe.

"Dastan!" Garsiv called in warning, then pulled him forward as Tus struck his sword into Nizam.

Nizam had tried to attack him, but had failed and paid with his life. Only a coward would attack someone from behind.

Garsiv gave him a half-hug, and Tus with sword still drawn placed a hand on Dastan's forearm. "Are you all right?"

Dastan flicked his eyes over the neat cut. "Just a scratch."

Tus led them away from the body. "Let us tend to it and talk."

Dastan wrinkled his nose at the thought of having to explain what had happened.

Everyone in the tent was dismissed. Tus brought over a bowl of clean water, while Garsiv went to give orders on what to do with the bodies. "What happened here?" Tus cleaned both the wounds thoroughly.

Dastan was tired of keeping his arm lifted as Tus washed the wound left by the Hassasin. "We stopped Nizam from overthrowing our father."

Tus tilted his head, stopped cleaning the wounds. "Go lay down, Dastan. I'll have the healers finish this."

Dastan was happy to acquiesce. Suddenly, he was extremely tired, all the events catching up to him as well as feeling a sense of something missing. He had not met Tamina in this timeline, and may never since Alamut would not be attacked. Sleep claimed him before he could think about destiny and what it had planned for him.

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Dastan felt something on his forehead, then on his cheek. He batted it away, then it started once more, forcing him to opening his eyes to see what was bothering him.

"Tus said not to wake you," Garsiv held a feather in his hand, the instrument of torture.

"I thought you were the brother that excelled at following orders." Dastan said with a groan as he sat up.

Tus laughed in response. "You are both stubborn."

Dastan noticed his shoulder had been bandaged and by the way it pulled that there were stitches in the wound given to him by Nizam. His other injury was also covered, but was deemed not deep enough to stitch, but he could feel it had been salted by the sting that was there.

"You were sleeping like the dead. It is midday and you are no longer bleeding." Garsiv was telling Dastan he was concerned. Dastan appreciated the sentiment after two weeks of having been a wanted man.

Being with his brothers was reassuring. He would never forget what had occurred with the dagger, and would probably always wake checking to make sure he was in the right reality. Presently, he was in Tus's tent, and his brothers were waiting for him to rise.

Tus brought him a plate of food and a chalice of water. Dastan realized how hungry he was and took an apple from the plate, he relished the taste.

"They are calling you the Lion of Persia for protecting the Empire." Tus gestured to outside the tent.

"More like a lioness with its cubs." Garsiv snorted at his own joke.

"I have contacted Father and await his reply before we march to Koshkan. He had to be told about his brother." Dastan saw the sadness in Tus's eyes, but he was glad his brothers were alive instead. He would never forgive his uncle. "He will want answers."

Garsiv pointed to both himself, then Tus. "We want answers."

Dastan drank before he replied, "Nizam wanted us to go against father's orders. I knew it was wrong in my heart."

"It should not have gotten so far for me to believe my brother," Tus said, his fingers wrapping around his every present beads.

"Is that all?" Garsiv wasn't satisfied.

Dastan didn't answer the question. He cleared his throat, the apple getting stuck for a moment as he thought of Tamina. "What of Alamut? Surely, we owe them an apology."

"For not attacking their city?" Garsiv scoffed. "Their princess owes us a thank you."

"Dastan is right. The Persian Empire can always use more allies." Tus smiled with pride. "I am impressed that my youngest brother is using his head." He cleared his throat. "It's said the princess of Alamut is a beauty without equal. We'll go to her palace and see for ourselves."

The end