Fic: A Moment's Peace

[tidia.livejournal.com]

Title: A Moment’s Peace
Summary: Tus is trying to meditate, but has to intervene between his two brothers instead.
Author: Tidia
Rating: PG
Word count: 1750
Chapters: 1
Characters; Tus, Dastan, Garsiv
Pairings: None
Spoilers/Warnings: None

As Tus got older there were more constraints placed on his time, but he always sought time for reflection.  He noticed his father did the same, and hoped it was a sign that one day he would be as good of a king.   Unlike Sharaman, Tus did not seek solace in another place, like a palace or holy city.  He preferred taking his moments in Nasaf in his home. 
 

 

The palace was large with many places to take a rest- whether by a fountain or a garden.  Today he went to the cedar garden with its large evergreen trees. He closed his eyes, fingering his beads as he thought about the decisions he had made during the week.

 

Some needles drifted down and landed on his lap. Then he felt a strange breeze, intermittent and weak.  He wrinkled his nose in annoyance, finally opening his eyes to be startled by Dastan, hanging upside down in front of him.

 

“Hello, Tus,” Dastan warmly greeted him.

 

Tus closed his eyes slowly.  “Can you please right yourself? Talking to you like that makes my head ache.” 

 

Dastan placed his hands on the tree limb, then brought his legs under the limb before he somersaulted to the ground. Tus always found his youngest brother’s feats amazing because it was something he was unable to do.

 

Dastan brushed his hair out of his face, since coming to the palace he was growing it longer to emulate the other nobles. Now on his feet, Tus could talk to Dastan.  He pointed to the large tree. “Is this where you go to hide when Garsiv is unable to find you?”

 

Dastan crossed his arms. “No. Perhaps.” He paused, then looked around with a smirk. “But, I have other places.”

 

“I’m sure you do,” Tus agreed. He had grown up in the palace his whole life so it was not new, but for Dastan there was still awe after two years.  He hoped that never changed.

 

“I leave you to your peace and quiet.” Dastan rocked on his heels.

 

“Thank you,” Tus replied, waiting for Dastan to leave.

 

“But, if you want to talk, then just call out,” Dastan ambled towards the tree, jumping out to catch a limb.

 

“Very well,” Tus said.

 

“Right up this tree-“Dastan added.

 

“Enough, Dastan,” Tus answered with a chuckle and heard Dastan’s laughter fade as he climbed higher into the tree.

 

Tus enjoyed the solitude once more. He thought about the affairs of state, then usually about his family, especially the sibling rivalry amongst his brothers.  Father and Uncle did not have this issue between them. Tus found himself playing intervener between the brothers.  One day he hoped for them to grow out of situation.

 

Tus heard the heavy footsteps before his brother Garsiv came into view.  Tus prayed his brother was seeking him out to discuss training.  

 

“Have you seen him?” Garsiv growled.  Tus couldn’t remember the last normal toned conversation with the middle brother that involved Dastan. 

 

“Him who?” Tus decided to play ignorant.  It did work on occasion so he could excuse himself from the squabbling.

 

Garsiv’s nostril’s flared in aggravation. “Your brother.”

 

“Our brother,” Tus stated, keeping a grip on his air of calmness.

 

“No.” Gus’s hands went to his hips.  “He’s your brother today, Tus.”

 

“What has he done now?” Tus tried to listen for a rustle from the tree to have confirmation that Dastan was listening. Tus heard nothing.

 

Garsiv exhaled. “I can’t find my crossbow and I know Dastan has it.”

 

“How do you know that?”  Tus wanted evidence, not the usual accusations coming from an annoyed older brother.

 

Garsiv looked away. “He’s always borrowing my weapons.”

 

“Always?” Dastan was smaller than Garsiv, although growing to be bulkier, but Garsiv’s weapons were balanced for him, not for Dastan.

 

“Yes. Do not patronize me, Tus.” Garsiv stepped in closer.  “That was my favorite crossbow and now it is missing.”

 

“And it has to be Dastan’s fault?” The palace was filled with servants and many places to misplace belongings.

 

“Of course!  Are you not paying attention? I have seen him with my weapons before.” Garsiv gestured to the direction of the stables. “Evidently, it is acceptable for street children to steal and covet the belongings of others.”

 

Tus gasped at the cruel comment.  He wiped a hand down his face. “Garsiv, you go too far.” Tus looked up to clue in his brother that Dastan was nearby, but Garsiv was not paying attention.

 

“Stop taking his side, Tus. For once say that I am right,” Garsiv retorted.

 

Garsiv wanted recognition for his accomplishments. Their father was very careful to give them equal attention, but Tus knew Garsiv was jealous. Dastan’s antics, and the fact that he was the youngest, left Garsiv feeling slighted and displaced from his position in the family.  No matter though, the insult was still there. “He deserves a chance to explain for himself.”

 

An out of breath servant crashed the intimate setting. “Sir, your crossbow was located.”

 

Garsiv was stunned.  Tus stood to question the servant, gripping Garsiv’s arm in a warning that he could not leave.  “Where was it?”

 

The servant was still catching his breath, but straightened, “In the stable near your tack, Sir.”

 

“Thank you.  Prince Garsiv will be there momentarily.” Tus dismissed the servant.  He waited until the servant left before turning on his brother. “Did you happen to leave it in the stable?”

 

“I believe so. I must have forgotten.” Garsiv had the common sense to look sheepish. “I’ve had much on my mind.”

 

“You were quick to blame Dastan.” Again Tus looked up to try to make his brother understand.  “You should explain yourself to him, perhaps apologize.”

 

“For what?” Garsiv shook his head.  “He is not aware that I thought he took my crossbow.”

 

Tus closed his eyes and pointed up to the tree.

 

“He is up in the tree-is that what you are saying?” Garsiv rubbed a hand over his chin. “Why did you not say something earlier?” Garsiv whispered.

 

“Dastan? Will you come down here, please?” Tus called out to the youngest prince.

 

This time there were no fancy flips or turns, just a jump down from a limb and Dastan was standing in front of them. “Tus, Garsiv.”  Dastan said nothing more.

 

“Are you going to play like you did not hear me down here?” Garsiv pointed to the tree.

 

“I was thinking about it, but I am not a thief.” Dastan held his head high, proud like a royal.  “I was never a thief.  I was poor, and had to forage for scraps, but I never stole.” Dastan crossed his arms. “You should not think that of me.”

 

There was teasing that occasionally bordered on the mean between the brothers, but they did not get a rise from Dastan as this accusation. 

 

Garsiv saw the emotion, too.  “Are you going to tell Father?”

 

Dastan wrinkled his nose and gave a huff. “I do not tell either.”  Dastan shrugged his shoulders and turned to Tus.  “Are we done?”

 

“No, not yet,” Tus sat down, gestured for Dastan to sit next to him, and for Garsiv to sit on the other side.

 

“He started it,” Dastan added, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a sense of rebellion.

 

Tus crossed his arms with patience. He would wait his brothers out. Garsiv acquiesced and sat next to Tus. “You owe him an apology and explanation.”

 

“What’s the explanation for?” Garsiv voice rose, then he clamped his lips to get himself under control.

 

“Because you are an ass,” Dastan replied.

 

Tus leveled his gaze at Dastan.

 

“It’s true,” Dastan mumbled as he began to pick at some moss.

 

Tus poked Garsiv to continue.  Tus had seen his father have an easier time with warring tribes of the empire than with these two.

 

Garsiv cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for calling you a thief when you are not.” Garsiv leaned forward,” But, you’re always around, and I do not want you near my weapons. They are my weapons.”

 

Tus hid his snicker, and comment about Garsiv’s manhood. The middle brother was staking his claim on his belongings and privacy from his younger brother.  As a child Tus had humored Garsiv more, and lived with having a shadow.  Tus decided he should not point that out to Garsiv- Tus had to respect that Garsiv was different from him, as Garsiv had to understand Dastan was different, too. 

 

Garsiv’s apology wasn’t what Tus had in mind, but hopefully Dastan would see beyond it. “Do you accept the apology?”

 

“I guess I am going to have to.” Dastan stood up.  “I admire your weapons, Garsiv and I did admire you because of your fighting talents-“

 

“Did?” Garsiv interrupted.  “What do you mean did?” He looked between Tus and Dastan.

 

“I think Dastan was saying that he looks up to you.  Is that correct?” Tus asked his youngest brother.

 

“I did, not anymore.” Dastan shook his head.  “Because I know one day soon I’m going to best Garsiv with my own weapons.” Dastan went over to the tree branch, grabbed it and started swinging. “And I won’t use one sword, but two.”

 

“Not going to happen, little brother.” Garsiv snorted, then stood and moved towards Dastan. “And two swords is one too many for battle.” He lunged to grab Dastan’s feet.

 

Dastan laughed, which was Tus’s cue to leave his siblings to their own devices.  They had made peace once more, until the next time.

 

 

The end