Love, War, and Time

[wakanda-8.livejournal.com]

Title: Love, War,and Time
Prompt: None
Summary: The Prince's luck is short lived after hearing of a devious plot concerning the fabled Dagger Of Time whilst passing though India. The Prince must battle the evil Zurvan, The Sands of time, The Dark Mysterious Prince within him, and his passion for the princess of India. This is a combination of SOT/WW/TT.
Author: Wakanda_ 8
Rating: T
Chapters:1/18
Character(s):The Prince, The Dark Prince, Princess Farah, Zurvan/Vizier
Pairing(s):Prince/Farah



 

Chapter 1: Passing through

 

Chapter 1: Passing through

India was warm and dark as the Persian army camped in the sand dunes near the royal palace of India. The soldiers sat round numerous fire pits laughing and trading story of their home's and battles they fought. In the large tent, head of the came, the Prince of Persia and the King of Persia sat at a small square wooden table gazing at their map. "We'll be in the Indian palace by high noon, hopefully we will pass though without incident," King Sharaman sighed feeling fatigued from the days journey.

"Father, might the Indian king give us lounging?" Prince asked seeing that his father was tired and he been tired for some time now. "Possibly my son, but you needn't worry; The King of India is an agreeable man by reputation," He smiled warmly. "And also I hear he is quiet the joker."

Prince smiled at his Father's lightness. "The Soldiers complain mostly of the heat and our preserving water for the journey, but I think it's because they haven't had a women in their bed for so long." He said standing up rolling the map into a tube. His Father laughed. "Rest easy now, my son, we shall be in the cool palace of India and I need you in full strength, we’ll be there for a while with our provision being so little now,” Sharaman said taking his large dazzling sword off his waist and resting it on the table. "Father,” Prince said speaking up, map still in hand. "Yes, my son?" He said with a light laugh knowing his son would go on and on with questions when the opportunity was presented. "Nothing, it doesn't matter. You must rest." Prince said putting the map in the corner of the tent as the King laid on his fur cot to rest. Prince looked to his father one last time hearing him snoring and he smiled. It was just like at home in Babylon, his Father always fell asleep right away and woke up without protest or complaint, as a real king should.

Prince walked out looking to the west seeing the small oasis of cool trees near the Indian Palace; you could hardly see the top of the domes they were so far away. "You all had better rest, were starting bright and early!" Prince ordered with his voice filling the empty night. The men groaned putting away their cards and slowly heading to their small tents.

Prince sighed walking to his own tent that was beside his Father’s tent. He took off his brass plated armor and his sword belt leaving it to thump on the floor, then he took off his turban that was blue like his shirt that had a gold band around it. Prince ran his fingers through his dark hair. His hair was slightly longer then when he first left the journey stopping at his jaw where it hung about his face covering his strong and handsome features and his surprising green eyes. He stood firm, proud, and walked with determination in each step to his cot as if trying to intimate it. Then he took a breath and flopped on his cot feeling sleep coming quickly. He put his right hand on his forehead and listened to the men murmuring in slow quiet conversation. He turned on his side looking to the small scar on his arm that he got when he was younger training to be a perfect warrior. His skin was a honey brown but the scar was lighter then his own complexion. The Prince signed nostalgically wishing he was home swimming along the beach of Babylon as he would when it was too hot for his training. Ever so slowly, his eyes closed and he was finally asleep.

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In the palace of India, the Princess Farah of India stood at her balcony looking to the swaying trees as a quiet night wind passed through. She was beautiful and strong, as people would find her character to be. Her hair black as night and smooth a silk and skin brown and decorated with a simple henna on her right forearm and her ankles. She wore a soft glowing gold medallion that her mother entrusted to her before she died. Her hair was out and down her back as she looked up to the sky with her mysterious dark eyes. She wears a crisp white skirt and a wrap top that was also white to bed.

She could not sleep knowing that the Persian army was only miles from her beloved home. She never trusted soldiers, least of all Persians. She thought them glory seeking scoundrels who cared nothing for life and righteousness, she did not even like her own warriors; she thought fighting for land and other things ridiculous. Stressed she was; having the Persian army come this way, would they start a war hoping to take her palace as a jewel. Questions of War ran though her head like a bird after it is pray. It was unsettling.

"Princess, why are you still awake at this hour?"

Farah turned startled as she looked up to the royal Vizier who was bowing holding his snake like staff in his hand as he always did with his mischievous smile. "I should ask you the same thing, why are in my chambers sneaking about?" Farah frowned holding her arms defiantly. "Please your grace, I mean you no harm, I was simply checking on you. You seemed worried about the news of the Persian army passing though." He said.

Farah's dislike for the Vizier was a strong as her dislike for soldiers. She always found him sneaking about with his staff and smiling that strange smile, it was as if he hiding something. "I am quiet well, although I am not thrilled to see how lightly my father is taking this situation." She said turning back to the forest. The Vizier walked toward Farah with his staff making a slight clanking sound against the marbled floor.
"Fear not Princess; the Persian soldiers are honorable fighters.” He smiled putting his hand lanky hand on Farah bare shoulder. She winced pulling away from his hand. "I doubt that, Vizier. All soldiers are the same they kill until they get their glory." She seethed. "Please be more calm in this matter, there will be no confrontation." The Vizier walked out of her chambers with a smug grin on his face. Farah breathed closing her eyes and turning to her room again. She walked though the gates of her window where the Lenin curtains blew in the wind.

She would be calm, but not completely, there was never telling what would happen with an army at your doorstep. Farah carefully pushed back the see-through mesh that was around her circler bed and laid on the soft warm white sheets feeling sleep taking over her and relaxing her.

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The next morning Prince awoke with his Father. He dressed putting his back on his sword and his turban. Immediately he got on his horse trotting slowly with the men who slowly raised gathering their weapons and eating whilst they walked. Prince rode by his father who looked straight ahead. Prince looked from his Father to the Indian palace that was coming slowly into view just as high morning was turning to early afternoon.

However, for some reason the Prince-as they drew nearer to the palace with each step- felt uneasy, almost worried, feeling that the army passing though a place as fragile as India was a bad idea. He said nothing to his Father of this he did not want him to think he was not ready to fight if they had to.

Just as the King predicted, they were at the Indian palace by high noon, the palace was beautiful with stone figures, smooth cool marble floors and carpets. Prince looked up as he walked through the threshold of the palace to the throne room. "My friends!" The Indian king greeted with his arms open. Sharaman embraced the Indian king with a smile and Prince stood back watching. The India king was a short chucky man with a friendly face, he thought amusingly.

There high guards stood on either side of the king protecting him nonetheless. Prince looked up seeing the stain glass ceiling that was sparkling down making the room seem like the inside of a rainbow and around the room was a second floor where he saw a female wearing a yellow dress move away from view. Prince frowned looking away as he watched the Vizier walk toward his liege. "We are honored to have you as our royal guest." The Vizier bowed to Prince and the King.
Prince nodded without saying a word as he simply observed. "Thank you for letting us into your kingdom. We travel a long way and we hope that we could stay until we have all the provisions we need." Sharaman said humbly. "Delightful!" The Indian king exclaimed. "We would love to have you stay here."

"Father, they should come and go as quickly as possible."

Prince turned seeing the beautiful Farah. Prince felt his heart skip a beat but he maintain his composure. "Farah my dear, these men mean no harm." The Indian King assured his daughter. "Excuse my daughter Farah; she has such a strong opinion on soldiers and war." He said to The Persian king who nodded. "Please don't be rude, Farah." He added.
Farah folded her arms, as she looked to each other Persian guard before stopping on the Prince with a sneer. He looked away trying to ignore the disgust they was practically radiating from her eyes simply and went to his Father hoping to avoid the angry Princess. "Please let my servants show you to the bath and your sleeping arrangements, and we may eat later."

Prince and his Father bowed as the servants showed them the way. Prince walked pass Farah and time seemed to have slowed down as his eyes locked with Farah hard eyes. He slowly looked away feeling a chill go along his back. He had never seen such despise in a women’s eyes until he met the Princess of India.

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Once The Prince, the King, and their entourage had left, Farah frowned to her Father as he sat on his throne with a smile looking pleased as usual. "I don't understand your hospitality to these savages." Farah sneered walking to her Father. "Farah, hush. You should have respect; they are just men in need." He said his smile fading slightly. "Father, how can you think that when they are here with swords and armors. You can't be so naive to think that they don't want to fight." Farah said frowning even more. The Indian king sighed feeling stressed. "Daughter, these men want nothing but provisions and shelter until they are ready to leave." He said trying to reassure his Daughter again.
Farah scoffed and unfolded her arms. "You just don't listen; Persian's are blood lusting people." She said. "You have to be at least on your guard, Father." Farah sighed smoothly her hand over her medallion. Farah walked over to her Father and kissed his cheek. "I'll skip supper; I have some reading I want to catch up on." She said before leaving the throne room with her yellow dress shimmering as she walked through sun light.

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The Prince took off his boots slowly thinking of the beauty of the palace holding the venom of a snake. She was beautiful-yes- but she was also unwelcoming and the look in her eyes made him feel even more unwelcome and uneasy then before. He took of his shirt, white pants, and his weapon's lay near his armor. He slipped into the large bath that was much deeper then his at home and he swam under for a while and came to the surface. He flipped his hair back letting loose a blissful sigh.

"Don't get us to it."

The Prince turned in the water facing Farah who was standing at his sword with her arms folded. "Is this how you treat your guest; by barging in on them whilst their nude?" He said coldly. "Ha, I could hardly call you a guest, Prince of Persia." She said with disgust. "You’re no then less a fly buzzing around my kingdom."
"I'm so flattered you think so highly of me, I thought you would have given me the title of dirt." He grinned seeing that what he said made her angrier. "Joke all you like, Prince. But I know you warriors do nothing but rape and pillage." She frowned. "I heard about you Princess, but I guess when I heard was wrong; Instead of being a forgiving, loving, and peaceful person you’re just a child who can't have her way." He countered. Farah lifted her yellow and white dress a little and stooped down picking up his sword.

The Prince clutched the small dagger in his left hand underwater. Farah stood up gracefully and smirked. "I wonder, how many men have you killed, Prince; Surely hundreds from the weight of the sword." She took the sword from its sheath and it sparkled. Farah held the sword at length and smile. "You shouldn't assume, Princess." He said looking to her darkly. "Why not; all of my assumptions have been true even since I was but a child." Farah shot back and slipped the sword back in its sheath dropping it to the floor.

"Don't worry; I won't want to start anything so I suggest you keep your distance. I don't like being around your kind." She said walking out. Prince sighed turning his gaze to his hand that was gripping the sliver knife. "Women,” He said rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

Later the Prince sat in the guest chambers looking to the smooth sheets that he found relieving. Sleeping on the sand dunes was very uncomfortable. The Prince walked to the large window that was open blowing the cold night air into the room. The White curtains danced in the wind as he slowly walked to the window taking a seat on the seal of the window looking to the crescent moon. His mind fill with the intoxicating venom of Princess Farah, he liked her spunk but disliked her harsh feelings toward him and his entourage. Somehow, the sky looked different from where he was from but the stars told a completely different story for him. After a while, he reluctantly went to bed.

________________________________________________________________________

Farah was once more in her white two piece sleep wear, but nothing was helping her mood tonight, not even the chilly air. She was at the balcony looking to the crescent moon for answers. She would always look to the sky where her Mother told her that she would be watching her. Farah sighed looking to her left down to where the Prince was supposed to be sleeping. She could kill him in his sleep but she thought against it because what her kingdom needed was unity and peace, not war. She must be a perfect example. The Indian people were very hospitable to the Persia's although she did not fully understand why. However, to see that her people were getting along with them was a good act of peace. She hoped that they would be out before she could have time to get use to their presence. Farah took her shawl and wrapped it around her arms trying to stay warm. She turned and gasped seeing the Vizier smiling to her and then bowing. "I really hate your sneaking in my chamber." Farah breathed trying to regain her calm composure. "A thousand apologies Princess, I was just wondering if you would be still practicing your archery in the morning; your Father wants to be there to talk with you." He smiled. Farah shivered at his smile. "Yes, I will, but why should it be any concern to you? You are never invited to my practices and I'd like to keep if that way." Farah frowned. The Vizier bowed and sneered secretly to the floor and when he straightened, he smiled. "Why yes, as you wish. Good night Princess."

Farah could not help but feel strangely helpless in his presence as if he were a cat cornering a mouse. When he left, Farah took a breath putting her hands on the railing on her balcony shaking her head disapprovingly. 'I have to convince Father to get rid of the strange Vizier.' She thought and then finally retired to bed.

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When the Vizier left Farah's chamber he was less then pleased with his efforts. "Damn wench." He cursed aloud. A few Indian soldiers that were under his command companioned the Vizier. "Did you get the medallion?" One asked. The Vizier frowned. "No, I didn't get it fool, she’s always awake." He said gripping his staff hitting it on the floor. "Sir we have to make a plan, the Persia's are here we have a small window of opportunity." Another said. "Don't fret, men." The Vizier sighed calming himself. “Tomorrow when the Princess is about with her bow and arrow we will meet in the throne room and I will reveal my new plan." He smiled confidently. "Yes Zurvan." The men choired quietly. The Vizier gave himself a name to when he was to be successful in his plan. The Vizier grinned smugly and walked the other way. 'There's nothing she can do about it.' He chuckled under his breath and left for his chambers"