Disclaimer: I don't own Arslan Senki or any of its characters.
Title: Home Is Behind And The World Ahead
Summary: Arslan's exile was swift and unexpected and they were only swept away along in the aftermath.
Rating: K+
Characters: Arslan, Daryun, Narsus, Elam, Arfrid, Jaswant, Farangis, Gieve and Andragoras with mentions of others
Warnings: Spoilers up to season 2, episode 3.
Author's Notes: I saw the episodes when Arslan was exiled and I couldn't help but feel something was missing from the scenes. So I decided to expand Arslan's banishment scene, add my own twist to it and involve more characters and make it more dramatic, of course. I ended up writing a lot more than I originally planned but I hope you all enjoy. The title was from by a lyric from a song sung in the Lord of the Rings movies.

The glimmer of relief in Arslan's eyes was not hard to miss as he spoke to his father how worried he was and how relieved he was that his parents made it to safety. Daryun thought with quiet displeasure that Andragoras did not appear to share the same sentiments as his son.

" There is only man to lead Pars and that is the king," Andragoras harshly interrupted Arslan whose relieved expression quickly became confused. " Are you aware that challenging the king's authority is nothing but short of treason, Arslan?"

There would only be one reason why Andragoras would suddenly bring that up. Arslan bowed his head, murmuring that he did.

At this, Daryun could not hold his tongue. " Prince Arslan has only thought of Your Majesty's safety," he loudly said, stepping forward and meeting his king's eyes boldly. " All his efforts have been towards finding you and liberating the capital from Lusitania. There is no crime that Prince Arslan had committed."

" Daryun." Arslan's quiet voice cut in once he paused for a breath. " Please do not speak to Your Majesty like that."

He gritted his teeth but relented. " My apologies," he muttered.

Andragoras narrowed his eyes at their interaction, perhaps sensing the deep loyalty that laid between the two. His eyes flicked towards the rest of Arslan's group.

" Why is Daryun and Narsus here?" he coldly asked instead. His eyes then landed disdainfully on Jaswant. " And why has a Shindran stand before us?"

" I sought Daryun and Narsus's aid after the battle of Atropene," Arslan swiftly answered, hoping to cool his father's rising temper. " And Jaswant had offered his service after there was a disagreement with the Shindran princes within our territories. Were it not for their strength and wisdom, retaking Ectabana from the Lusitanians would be only but a dream."

Andragoras made an incredulous sound in his throat. His gaze lingered on the group behind Narsus, taking note of Elam and Arfrid's youth, the dust-covered hem of Farangis's cloak and the crooked oud resting on Gieve's back. " An interesting company that you keep yourself to, Prince Arslan."

" They have been most faithful and dedicated to restoring Pars," Arslan said, with a slight edge of displeasure in his voice that his father disapproved of his friends. " Without them, my life would have been lost many times over and the battles we have won would have turned disastrous for us."

Yet, Andragoras was not satisfied. His voice became low and dangerous. " And what news is this that has reached my ears that you have declared a decree to abolish slavery?"

For a second, Elam believed that Arslan would waver in his conviction and tremble in fear in the presence of his father and refute he had any claim on the matter or that he had made a mistake and thus would apologize.

Instead, Arslan met his father's eyes with a steel determination. " After the invasion of the Lusitanians, the people are divided and frightened. What we need now is unity and equality. I do not regret making such claim."

" Have you gone mad when you've wandered in the wilderness?" the king hissed. " For years, Pars' great foundation has been built on slaves. Has being in the company of that fool Narsus muddled your mind to his ways?"

Elam and Arfrid immediately bristled at the insult towards Narsus but swallowed their protests at Narsus's shake of his head.

" Being in Narsus's company has simply opened my eyes to the state of Pars," Arslan softly yet firmly replied. " I simply wish for everyone, whether slave or free, to live together in peace."

A resounding crack split through the air as Arslan's head was snapped to the side at the hand of his father.

" Your Highness!"

Daryun was not the only one who attempted to rush towards Arslan's side. The prince however, to the shock of the generals, did not fall or let out of a cry of pain that had been expected of him. He remained standing still, his mouth set in a hard line. A blossoming red grew across his face, highlighting his blue eyes that were currently devoid of any emotion.

" I will not hear another word about this matter, from you or anyone else," Andragoras thundered. " Do I make myself clear?"

Arslan continued to gaze unwaveringly at his father. A moment passed in silence and at last, Arslan averted his eyes and bowed his head. " Yes, I understand, my king," he murmured.

But everyone present could see there was no resignation or defeat in the prince's stance. While he might have said nothing more to appease his father, his will remained unchanging.

I can understand now why Daryun and Narsus have bet on him, Kubard watched with a mixture of awe and respect.

And yet, dread pounded through Narsus's veins. Andragoras might be blinded by his arrogance and stubbornness but even he could see that Arslan was no longer a lamb and had the strength to bare his teeth in light of a challenge.

" Prince Arslan," Andragoras began, his voice still trembling in fury. " This is my decree to you. You are to go to the southern coast where Port Gilan is and gather 50,000 soldiers for our war effort. You are not to return until you have gathered that much."

Murmurs and whispers erupted among the generals.

" To Port Gilan?!"

" But ... that is exile for the prince."

" You wouldn't even find a thousand able men there!"

The king silenced the rabble with a glare. " Your answer, Prince Arslan?"

Say no, Daryun begged. Don't do this.

" I will obey the king's command," Arslan whispered, her voice strangely loud in the stunned silence of the court.

" Your Majesty," Narsus spoke up, subtly positioning himself behind Arslan in support. " As unworthy as we are, please allow this humble servant of yours to assist Prince Arslan with your royal mandate. We will not disappoint you in fulfilling your command."

" No."

Andragoras's one word was the final strike that hammered down. " I will need you and Daryun to stay here in my camp. Since Prince Arslan has spoken so highly of you and your ... company's skills, I'm certain we can find some use for them to help retake Ectabana."

Daryun's hands clenched in his lap and Narsus could only bow. " Thank you, Your Majesty, for thinking so highly of us," he tightly said.

" This is my command to everyone else," Andragoras's voice boomed and echoed across the hall. " Prince Arslan is to complete this royal mandate alone. Should anyone assist him, they shall no longer be considered Parsian but our enemy."

His ringing words left a bitter taste. It was cruel for Andragoras to do such a thing to his own flesh and blood, but they dared not speak up, for the king's words were final and his intentions made clear.

" Since you have accepted, you are to depart immediately." Andragoras pointed towards the door. " I will not see your face again until you have completed the mandate."

It was the closest to a farewell he would give his son. Arslan slowly straightened. His eyes appeared to be glistening and the brightness of his eyes was intense in the dim light. Some had expected him to say a testy word to his father, as a means of spiteful retaliation. After all, he was being exiled in all but name. Instead, the words exchanged were soft and earnest.

" Father, I wish you victory against Lusitania and long life until we meet again," Arslan simply said and Narsus wondered how could such a kind-hearted boy be related to Andragoras.

Then he bowed once and walked out the hall, head held high and his pale features sculptured as if into stone. They all watched his retreating retreat with reverence, as if their silence was enough to convey their sincere admiration and respect.

He may be a boy for the present time but he acts like a king, they all thought as the door closed behind Arslan and Andragoras began to systematically call them to reaffirm their loyalty.

~.~.~

Arslan took in a slow breath as he surveyed his room another time, internally running through the things he would need on this trip. Not for the first time, he wished he was able to consult Narsus or Daryun but he was alone now and he would not bother them with such trivial things.

The bruise was still smarting and its reddening mark had dulled into a darkened discolouration against his skin. One servant, upon seeing the bruise, gasped and hurried to get ointment and bandages, to which Arslan stopped him. Why he did that, Arslan wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps he wanted to wear it as a sign of his determination to see his father's mandate through and what he had paid to do it.

He glanced at the unrolled maps scattered on the table. It was hard to believe that only earlier in the morning, he and Elam had been pouring over it, discussing about faraway places and lands they would have loved to visit. Now, he was to go off into the unknown on his own and Elam would remain in Pars.

He left a letter, addressed to his friends. His father's command was to leave quickly and he would not risk his father's wrath on his friends to linger to exchange a few farewells.

The letter was brief, to convey his haste but ultimately, its words were filled with gratitude and love towards those who had carried him through danger.

Daryun, thank you for your strength and loyalty from the very beginning. You are truly a Mardan fu Mardan.

Narsus, your wisdom helped to broaden my mind and eyes to the world. I fear you may have to wait being Court Painter a little longer.

Elam, my best wishes on your journey to Serica, Turan and all of the other lands you desire to see.

Farangis, your devotion fills me with gratitude and I hold the High Karina's will fulfilled.

Gieve, my apologies to you for asking so much of you. I hope someday to reward you for your kindness.

Arfrid, you have shown me that the Zot clan is among the bravest and hardy people I know.

Jaswant, I'm indebted to your dedication, even if it was for a short time. I release you from my service to go where you may please.

Kishward, Kubard, Lucien and to all the bannermen, your loyalty is something I could never repay. I pray that same loyalty will continue with my father.

Arslan wished he could write more but time was short and he departed from his room, with one final glance at the letter remaining on his bed.

The servants had filled his bag with bread, water and fruits that would last him for the journey. Already, word had travelled throughout the castle of the prince's exile. As he walked past them in the hallways, the servants were quick to incline their heads in respect and murmur their wish for his success to him. Their kindness was more than enough to make Arslan's heart swell with gratitude.

He approached his mother's room. A maid was already there, standing by the door as if on guard. " Your Highness," she greeted politely.

" I wish to speak to my mother before I leave."

The maid hesitated, glancing at the door and where Tahamine was. " I'm afraid the queen had given the order to not to let anyone in, as she is quite fatigued from the journey and does not wish to be disturbed," she replied, regret mingling in her voice.

It had been already a deep ache in his heart for him to follow his father's command but it was another staggering blow for his mother to refuse to see him, not knowing if she would see him again. He forced a smile, trying to keep his despair underneath a calm demeanour. " Then, would you be able to pass on a message for her? Please tell her that I will be leaving and I'm not certain when I will return. Tell her that I hope she will be well and safe here and my thoughts are of her."

The maid solemnly promised, bowing low to him. The pity in her eyes was both painful and reassuring to see.

All he could do was thank her and leave, trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyes. The walls of Peshawar, once so invigorating and vast, now seemed cold, empty and tiny. With a heavy heart, he went to gather his horse.

His horse, perhaps sensing his distress, nickered lightly, rubbing her head against his shoulder. He smiled wanly, comforted that at least he was able to bring one friend with him.

There was a hesitant cough and he turned around to see a group of soldiers. He recognized some of them as the men he had requested Daryun and his captains to train. " Your Highness," one of the them shyly said, scuffing the bottom of his foot. " Is – is it true? That Your Highness must leave?"

" I'm afraid so." Arslan dared not say more lest his emotions bubbled and swelled to the surface.

" Will your father permit us to continue practice with Lord Daryun?" another asked.

That, he was not sure. His father might dismiss such frivolous activities, that a Mardan had better things to do than coddle soldiers. " It would be best to speak with Lord Lucien about that," Arslan suggested instead. "I'm sure he would make sure that your training continues."

A relieved and appreciative expression appeared on the men's faces. " Thank you, Your Highness! You are truly a kind soul."

He did not believe he was deserving of such praise, not after all that had happened. But he smiled regardless for the men's sake. " It is I that must thank you for your service," he could only say in return.

The men bowed to him, ignoring the hushed whispers of the stablemen and how someone hissed that their action might displease the king. " It was an honour serving you, Prince Arslan," they said with bright smiles and unfaltering dedication.

Arslan simply nodded, fearing if he spoke, his resolve would waver.

Scores of men watched silently as he passed through the courtyard, nearly completing his slow walk to the gates. They offered no words but they stood straight in his presence, as if he was still their prince and commander. A few lifted their hands in salute and others dipped their heads in sorrow. In his heart, he thanked each and every one of them and prayed for their safety in the upcoming battles.

Even as the gate closed behind him with a shuddering groan and he nudged his horse to a trot, he glanced back behind him, to gaze at Peshawar and its stalwart walls. If he stared a little bit harder, he almost believed there were shadowed figures watching him from the top of the walls, longing them to be his friends seeing him off.

But such fantasies would not save him from the harsh reality. He shook his head and the shadows vanished.

He found it hard to keep his growing despair and anger rising now that he was faced with the lonely road ahead and the darkening of the sky giving way to night. It would do him no good to hate his father, Arslan reasonably told himself. He forced himself to think of this banishment as his father giving him his freedom, the freedom he had long desired.

Would you still try to gather 50,000 men, just to prove your father wrong and return home to your friends? a part of him asked and he buried that thought as hard as he could.

The night was long and Arslan found he could not sleep. He did not bother to make a fire and he barely ate, feeling no appetite. He could see the first rays of the sun gleaming and dancing from the horizon and with a sigh, he rose. It was a new day, he said, repeating it like a mantra to himself. The first of his new life.

A familiar bird's cry startled him and instinctively, Arslan looked up, almost in desperation.

There was no mistaking the sight of a Parsian hawk and he could not mistaken his dear friend for any other. He smiled in delight, feeling light for the first time since his father's return. " Were you worried for me, Azrael?" he called, nearly running towards the hawk.

But Azrael's trills alerted him of seven figures riding from the distance.

His heart stopped. It could not possibly be –

" Your Highness!"

Daryun's bold voice carried through the desolate land, bringing a feeling of warmth in his chest and spreading to his fingertips. He laughed out loud, wondering if this was a only a dream. But the rumble of the earth below him and the smell of horse flesh was no lie.

He rushed out to meet them, joyously calling their names. Even from the span between them, their relief and elation upon finding him was just as evident as his.

Daryun strolled forward first after dismounting, as if he would embrace Arslan. Arfrid cheerfully waved. Gieve rested his hands at his head, at ease as usual. Narsus inclined his head in polite greeting. Elam sighed, shoulders slumped in relief. Jaswant and Farangis schooled their faces to be neutral but their eyes and mouths crinkled in delight.

And Arslan himself could not stop the grin on his face from appearing.

" Your Highness, we are prepared for your reprimand and the king's wrath," Daryun began and as if they had arranged in advance, the seven of them knelt before Arslan. " We have blatantly disobeyed the royal mandate but we all come here without any regrets. Only with the desire to follow after you."

Then, he presented the unopened letter Arslan had left for them and Arslan found he could barely breath as he accepted it. " We felt no need to read the letter's contents. For we knew we would be reuniting soon," he explained. " So if you would have us, we want to accompany you on this journey."

Pride, happiness and shock all mingled within him and Arslan could scarcely speak, overwhelmed by the loyalty and friendship they held for him. When he finally found his voice, there was a slight tremble, betraying his emotions. " You all have been with me, before Atropene, during Peshawar and after Sindria. After all that we have endured together, how could I reprimand you?"

The tears, long held and stopped, trickled down his cheeks. But it was warm against his skin and now he knew that there was nothing in this world that could prevent the love and warmth he felt for his friends from filling him up and giving him the strength to continue on.

" Thank you all. For everything."

His gratitude swelled in his words and he hoped that he was able to convey his sincerity.

Their smiles told him that they did.

Arslan glanced at the letter. " I suppose there is no need for this anymore?" he asked, already tearing the letter.

" I suppose not," Elam grinned.

" Unless it was written praising my love for Lady Farangis," Gieve puffed himself up.

" If Prince Arslan truly wrote that, it would be best to rip that letter," Farangis deadpanned.

" That would be true," Jaswant sighed.

" But I want to read what Arslan wrote about us," Arfrid teased.

" I too am a little curious," Narsus slyly added.

He watched as the ripped scraps of the letter was soon blown away. Arslan turned to his friends with an embarrassed smile. " I believe I already said most that was written there," he admitted with a slight blush to his cheeks.

Daryun clasped a hand to his shoulder. " We are honoured by your words," he solemnly said.

He smiled. " And I to you all."

And so, the once lonely rider was no longer alone and that made the journey and the pending dangers and hardships more easy to bear.