Work Text:
A good story always starts in a common location, in your case, the marketplace. The moment king Sharaman saw you, bravely defend your friend, he decided that you, a girl with no royal blood, are the best opportunity for him to have a child with no eye on his throne. So, he adopted you as a member of the royal family, as his third and final child—a true princess of Persia.
Twelve years later here you are in a tent surrounded by the Persian army with your brothers strategizing the attack on Alamut.
Your older brother, the thoughtful Tus is the kingdom’s brain. As crown prince, he would one day become king.
The middle child is the quick-tempered Garsiv, who represents the kingdom’s muscle. He knows he would one day be called upon to carry out the decisions his brother makes as king.
And you, the spirited princess are the heart of the empire. You are a princess, but also one of the common people. You aren’t expected to marry for political gain, not being of royal blood. Your father and brothers nearly killed a prince for implying you are nothing more than a prize to be won and should be lucky if a prince married you. Your family loves you dearly and you love them as well. That’s why you get away with so many things. The oddest, only known to your family and your personal group of soldiers, is that you disguise yourself as a man when a ‘man’s strong hand’ is needed. Like now. You exit the main tent and go to your own to change.
You remove your dress and put on pants and a shirt, making sure that your breasts are secure and not evident. You untie your complicated hairdo and ruffle your hair. You were unable to convince your brothers to spare the city of Alamut, but there is another path. That night, you lead a daring raid into Alamut. Rather than charge the fortress directly, as Garsiv was planning, you went with the more effective, sneak attack.
You are in the middle of the street, waiting for your brothers to reach you. Alamut was conquered by you, a woman. You look at the jeweled dagger you obtained in the previous fight with an enemy soldier. It has a glass handle filled with sand that seems to glow. You smile as you see your siblings and slide the weapon into your belt as a trophy.
“You disobeyed my orders, sister!” Tus says with a frown
“Aw. Do you mean you are not pleased with my present? The city of Alamut without the bloodshed?” you reply playfully, and he laughs
“Well done, sister” he praises you, and Garsiv nods in agreement
“Yes, very well done, princess” your uncle Nizam’s voice is heard, and he has an odd gleam in his eyes. You were quite close to him until you got older. You then drifted apart, not liking the ever-present look in his eyes, full of something you can’t place.
You find out that the princess of Alamut, Tamina, is a royal pain in the ass. And your dear brother, Tus, asked you to present her in front of your father, who has interrupted his prayers at the eastern palace to join you. You convince your father to allow the crown prince to marry her and Tus will provide you with a gift for your father. He likes her, oddly enough, and wants to wed her to ensure the loyalty of the people of Alamut.
She exits the chambers and sees you, now dressed as a woman.
“I’m to present you to the king, Your Highness,” you say formally
“So, I’m escorted by Princess Y/n, the Lioness of Persia,” she scoffs as she strides past you toward the door. “You are no Lioness, not even a hyena. You must feel wonderful winning such acclaim for destroying an innocent city. Then again, you are a princess of Persia. Senseless and brutal.”
“A pleasure to meet you, too, Princess,” you say pleasantly, walking in step with her “And allow me to inform you, that if punishing enemies of my king is a crime, I’ll gladly repeat it.”
She doesn’t have the opportunity to answer because you reach the door which leads to the room where the king is.
“If you can manage it, I suggest a hint of humility when you’re presented to the king,” you tell her sharply. “For your own good.” You add with a toothy grin
Everything goes up in smoke. Your father is dead and everyone blames you. He was killed by the gift you gave him, the one Tus brought you. You barely managed to escape with the help of your men, and now you have a very annoying Tamina with you, who followed you when she saw the dagger you had. You don’t understand why your brother wanted to kill Sharaman until the other princess attacks you and you accidentally activate the dagger, which pulls you back in time saving you from death.
The sand, that was in the weapon’s handle, can turn back time, and only the holder of the dagger is aware of what happened. You decide that the best course of action is to talk with your uncle Nizam, so he can clear your name.
You can’t go on the normal trails, Persian troops are on them, but there is a place no Persian dares enter. The land of Aslan, ruled by the ruthless Sheik Amar. It’s rumored to be a horrifying place. Parents threaten their children with stories of the terrifying Sheik if they misbehave. No stranger dares cross it without an invitation from the Sheik. The only ones allowed are the merchants.
The land of Aslan is a desolate landscape, the molten red sun blazes above an endless sea of sand as hot as fire. In the middle of the desert, two merchants make the slow and arduous journey across the land. Or at least, two people who are parading as merchants. You and Tamina, in an effort to disguise yourselves, have traded your expensive clothes for the ones of traders. And for safety reasons, you opted for the male clothing.
You glance at the empty handle of the dagger dejectedly. The princess didn’t wish to tell you where you can find more magical sand.
“I’m thirsty,” she protests after you’ve been traveling for some time.
You roll your eyes and toss her the lone canteen. She grudgingly accepts it with thanks.
“If you can’t show your uncle how the Dagger works,” she asks eventually, “why in the world would he believe you?”
“That’s not your problem,” you reply grumpily.
“You know, you really walk like one. Head held high, chest out, measured strides.” She imitates you. “The walk of a self-satisfied Persian royalty.” you don’t respond “No doubt it comes from being told the world is yours since birth…and actually believing it.” you have had enough
“I wasn’t born in a palace, like you,” you say, whirling to face her. “I was born in the slums of Nasaf.”
She’s shocked “Then how…?” Tamina asks, stunned.
“The king rode into the market one day and found me, took me in, gave me a life, a family, a home,” you answer. “So, what you’re looking at is the walk of a woman who just lost everything!” she’s speechless.
The sight of the skeletons, most likely victims of the ruler of the land, also helps to keep Tamina silenced for a while.
“I’m desperate for a drop of water,” she gasps.
“Well, that’s more than we have, since you emptied our canteen hours ago,” you answer without bothering to turn around and face her. You wait for one of her typical responses, but she is quiet.
“A miracle,” you say mockingly. “I’ve silenced the princess of Alamut.” Still no answer. You turn around and see her collapsed.
“Tamina!” you call out as you rush to her. Rolling her over, you notice that she is unconscious. You try to shake her awake, but nothing.
You reach to get a blanket to help prop up her head and when your back is turned, Tamina’s eyes open. She whacks you across the back of the head with a large bone that she had slyly picked up and hidden in her cloak.
Your eyes roll back, and you pass out face down in the sand. With you unconscious, she reaches down and pulls the Dagger from your belt and puts it into her own. She quickly hops up on the horse’s back and spurs the stallion into action.
You have no idea how long you lay in the sand beneath the sweltering sun. All you know is that when you finally regain consciousness, you are not alone.
First, you glimpse a shadow pass over you, then another. You squint as you look up into the light and try to make out the figures standing above you. Although the bump on the back of your head continues to throb with pain, your vision begins to return. When it finally comes into focus, you wished it hadn’t.
A dozen men on horseback surround you. They wear a mixture of Persian finery and other styles. Each carries an assortment of weapons, and not one betrays the slightest hint of compassion for your poor soul, abandoned in the desert.
You realize immediately that these must be the bloodthirsty soldiers of Aslan. You try to scramble up onto your feet but stop when something lands on the ground between your legs with a mighty thwack.
You look at the object, a tri-bladed throwing knife with African markings. You gulp.
“Do you know where you are, Persian?” a baritone voice demands
You look up at the speaker and your heart starts pounding in your chest. The man is massive and tall, you’re sure he dwarfs your brothers and father. His hair is long, brushing his shoulders and earth brown with streaks of gold hair from spending too much time in the sun. His piercing eyes are a deep brown that seems almost black. An aquiline nose graces his appearance, but it seems a little crooked like he had his nose broken at one point. Full berry lips surrounded by a beard, complete his face. He has a tawny beige skin, indicating that he spends a lot of time outside and it’s wind-ravaged as the land he controls. You are face to face with the ruler of the land, Sheik Amar. You once saw a portrait of him, when one of your father’s advisers was looking for husbands for you before your father chided him. But that picture doesn’t do him justice.
You take a deep breath and simply nod in answer to his question.
“And yet you enter still?” Amar says in his deep voice, shaking his head with disapproval. You remain silent but nod again.
“In the heart of Sudan, there’s a tribe of warriors called Ngbaka,” Amar says, his voice firm, “striking fear into all the people they cross. Ngbaka are masters of the throwing knife.” Amar motions to one of his riders, an African who wears a bandolier of tri-bladed knives across his chest. They look just like the one currently on the ground between your legs. The rider has another blade in his hand, ready to throw.
“This is Seso of the Ngbaka,” Amar goes on. “I had the good fortune of saving his life, which means he’s forever indebted to me. So, tell me, Persian who enters my land uninvited, is there any reason I shouldn’t ask him to put his next throw just a bit higher?”
You look up at the man and smile politely. In fact, you have a reason. One you think the Sheik will be very interested in hearing.
“The young woman I was with hit me and stole from me. Help me get my belongings back and I’ll give her to you. She’s a beautiful thing, you’ll like her” the male’s eyes light up
“Hmmm. Deal, Persian” he waves his hand to a rider, who presents you with a horse. As you make your way after Tamina, you feel eyes on you, but every time you look, you don’t catch anyone. You reach a narrow canyon of rock and sand and there’s the Alamut princess.
The Sheik’s riders surround the woman, trapping her. You see she quickly slides an amulet out of view, and you suspect it’s with magical sand.
Sheikh Amar approaches on his horse and looks her over. He smiles and nods to you.
“You’re right. She’s quite good-looking. Could be better, but we have a deal,” Amar tells you
You smile pleasantly as you pull up next to her and take the Dagger from her belt.
“Clever princess,” you say bitingly.
With Tamina in his grasp, the Sheik invites you to his palace. Not wanting to appear suspicious, you accept. The group rides out of the canyon and across the desert until you reach a small stronghold. Amar guides you through the halls and as you approach your destination, sounds of shouting are heard up ahead.
You pull Tamina aside at an opportune moment and you reach toward her neck, taking her amulet. Flipping it open, you see the glowing sand inside. With a satisfied grin, you fill the Dagger.
“When my uncle sees the power of this Dagger, he’ll believe our invasion was a lie. Thank you, Your Highness.”
Suddenly, one of Amar’s men grabs Tamina and drags her away, kicking and screaming and you are helpless to do anything.
A moment later, sunlight appears as you have reached the garden. You can’t believe your eyes. Part of the immense garden has been converted into a track where ostriches compete in races and the people of the land bet on the outcome.
“Ostrich racing?” you say in disbelief.
“Every Tuesday and Thursday,” Amar replies “What they lack in beauty, they make up for in fighting spirit. And the races keep my people happy.” That statement astonishes you; few leaders care about their people’s happiness.
“Not what you were expecting, Persian?” Amar chuckles
“I’ve heard stories,” you reply, shrugging
“About the bloodthirsty ruler that murderers anyone that dares enter his land?” Amar offers. “A great story but, alas, untrue.”
“What about the skeletons we saw?” you ask.
“Bought from a Gypsy in Bukhara,” he explains with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I crafted most of my lurid reputation. Yes, I kill people, but only my enemies. I’m a fair man.” He explains
His gaze shifts to the stands surrounding the ring. You follow his look and see Tamina. With sudden clarity, you realize what Tamina’s role will be here.
The stands are filled with young women serving food and drinks to the spectators. Tamina is one of them now, dressed in a rather revealing outfit. You find the outfit interesting, but you are certain that your brothers will kill you if you dressed as such.
“It’s odd, Persian,” Amar says, looking thoughtfully at you. “You bear a remarkable likeness to the disgraced princess who fled after murdering the king.”
You see the glimmer in the tall man’s eyes, and you realize he knows. You turn to run, but a knife flies through the air and pins your cloak against the wall. You look up to see Seso standing there with a proud smile.
“Have I told you about the Ngbaka?” Amar laughs at your misfortune
“Yes, you have,” you answer, voice wavering
Amar shakes his head. “Your brother Tus has offered a reward for you that, between the two of us, borders on the obscene. Some would turn in their own mothers to collect that gold.” Amar takes your chin in his hand and turns you to face him, your faces are close, and his hypnotic eyes study your features. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t hand you over to your brother” you can’t help but notice that his voice has a husky note. And that you can use.
“Me,” you say quickly, and he knits his brows
“What?”
“Me. Help me clear my name and you’ll have me” his eyes widen, and you continue “I know you are unmarried. What do you say to being wed to the Lioness of Persia?” the Sheik’s face doesn’t betray his thoughts. Your heart is hysterical with anticipation. He removes the knife pinning you.
“You really must be innocent if you offer yourself to me.” You are in awe of this man. He takes your arm and pulls you to a table with food, sitting you down “Tell me your story, Persian”
You start your tale and he’s paying very close attention to both you and your story.
“That was quite unexpected, princess” you flush, in his deep voice, your title sounds more of an endearment “What do you plan to do now?
“Sneak in Avrat, where my father’s funeral will be, and talk to my uncle Nizam”
“Do you think he’ll listen to you?” his eyebrow rises with the question
“Yes,” you say with conviction, Nizam always listens to you.
“Alright. Me and Seso will join you at Avrat. We’ll help you and keep you safe” you’re touched by his offer “After all, I don’t want my feature bride to die before we’re married” he winks at you, smiling brilliantly
“Can we take Tamina with us, please?”
“Eh. We’ll have her tag along. She’s not a good worker anyway, since she’s royalty. You are the only princess I heard about that doesn’t fit the norm” he says softly, savoring your flushed cheeks. He nods to one of his men and they run off to bring the woman
“Sheik Amar, how did you know I was the princess?”
Pink appears on his face “Lucky guess” he quickly says walking towards the stables. You see the African man hiding a snicker behind his hand.
The journey isn’t very long, now that you cross through Aslan. You come to find that the Sheik is a very charming man. He’s an intellectual, reading everything he can get his hands on and learning from everyone, regardless of status. You do recall your father mentioning once that if Amar put his head to it, he could conquer the whole world before dinner. His mind is sharp as a knife, and he has a silver tongue. A deadly combination, really. You find him fascinating, especially since you have things in common. You both are fond of astronomy, like riding, and care for the common person.
Now, in Avrat, you wait in a stable near the bazaar entrance for your uncle to come. Seso delivered your message to Nizam. And after hours he finally arrives.
Tamina, Amar, and Seso stay hidden in the shadows, eager to overhear the conversation.
“You should not have asked me here,” Nizam says when he sees you appear out of the shadows.
“I had no choice, Uncle,” you are relieved to see the older man’s familiar face. “I didn’t kill my father. You know I would never do such a thing.”
“Your actions speak otherwise,” Nizam replies, but something seems off about his tone.
“I had no choice but to flee. It was Tus that gave me the cloak. It was poisoned by his hand.” Your uncle listens skeptically as you tell him this
“The invasion of Alamut was a lie!” you continue. “Tus is after power. He searches not for forges…” you get close to him to whisper the next part, not noticing his eyes widening “…but for the sand to fuel a mystical device.”
“This is why you brought me here? Mystical devices?” He asks quietly with disdain, but his eyes are oddly excited.
“The Dagger is why Tus invaded Alamut,” you say again trying to make him understand. You reach into the sleeve of your cloak and pull out a bundle. But, when you open it, the magical weapon that was supposed to be inside is missing. In its place is a nutcracker. The very one Tamina used on your trip here.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Nizam demands.
“I had it, Uncle,” you say in a tiny voice. “I swear.”
“Then where is your so-called evidence?” he asks gesticulating and you see his hands, they’re burned. You know you were the only one who tried to pull the deadly cloak off your father, he wasn’t anywhere nearby. It clicks. Nizam is the one that killed your father.
“Is something wrong, Y/n?” Nizam asks seeing the look of realization on your face. You turn and start running. As you do, an arrow grazes your side. You look up to find archers everywhere. It was a trap!
“Come, quickly” Amar orders you and the four of you flee from the soldiers. Seso throws his knives with precision, killing the men after you.
But one soldier doesn’t give up—Garsiv.
When you met up, anger colors his face and he’s ready to destroy you. He comes to attack with his ax, only for Amar to step between you, deflecting the blow with his sword.
You realize that your brother’s ax is strong and heavy, but the Sheik is skilled. He moves gracefully and fast, despite his girth, hitting your brother with accuracy, not wasting moves or time. With each swing, Garsiv’s fury grows at his inability to strike the portly male.
“I have to congratulate you, little sister, you finally found yourself a man,” Garsiv says sardonically.
“I didn’t kill our father!” you yell at him.
“Then God will pardon you,” Garsiv rages, “after your head will roll!” your brother moves for a heavy hit, but at the last moment Amar moves out of the way and the ax is now stuck. The tall man moves to land the finishing blow
“Please, stop! Don’t kill my brother!” he stops, resheathing his sword. The four of you leave before Garsiv has time to recuperate from his surprise.
“I take it your uncle didn’t listen to you,” Tamina says, and the Sheik watches you intently
You shake your head sadly “Worse than that. While we spoke, I saw his hands had been burned. My uncle made no move to touch the cloak that killed my father. He must have been the one who poisoned it. It wasn’t Tus. It was Nizam.”
“I’m sorry, princess,” Amar says and it’s genuine
“I thought he loved my father,” you say softly. “He hated spending his life as brother to the king. He wants the crown for himself.” But it doesn’t make sense. Your brother will be next in line. The dagger. Your uncle lit up at the mention of it.
“What aren’t you telling me?” you ask Tamina sharply.
She ignores you, pointing instead behind you, where a sandstorm is coming. Using the distraction, you steal the dagger from her.
“If you want it back, tell me everything. Or I swear I’ll break this dagger.”
Tamina’s eyes dart from the Dagger to the storm and to your serious eyes. She nods.
Quickly, the males pull the horses to the ground and use the saddle blankets and their swords to make a temporary tent to shield all of you.
As you sit huddled together, you are bright as a cherry, because you are so close to the Sheik that you can smell the spicey aroma that clings to him, you turn to Tamina. “I know Nizam needs the Dagger,” you say. “He’s got our army searching Alamut for more of the sand. But what else? What secret lies under your city?”
Tamina looks from you to the other men with apprehension. She lets out a defeated breath and starts talking.
“In Alamut rests the beating heart of all life on earth, The Sandglass of the Gods. The glass embodies our existence. As long as the sand runs through it, time moves forward, and man’s survival is assured. The Sandglass controls time itself…reminds us that we are mortal,” she says softly.
“What about the Dagger?” you inquire
“The blade is the only thing that can pierce the glass and remove the Sands of Time. But the handle only holds one minute.” Her words echo through the small space.
“If one were to place the Dagger in the Sandglass and activate it?” Amar’s rich voice asks
“Sand would flow through, endlessly.”
“You could turn back time as far as you like?” you think back to your father’s favorite story. “When my father was a boy, Nizam saved his life while hunting. My uncle means to go back in time and undo what he did…not save my father. That would make him king.” Your body fills with dread
“The sands contained within the Sandglass are quite volatile,” Tamina warns. “That’s why it’s sealed. Opening the Dagger while it’s in the chamber breaks the seal. The secret Guardian Temple outside Alamut is a sanctuary. The Dagger must be delivered back there. Give me back the Dagger so I can deliver it.” She pleads with you.
“I’m sorry, Princess. I can’t do that,” you tell her and your eyes glimmer with conviction “I’m coming with you.” The men look at you with wonder
“You’re going to help me?” Tamina asks quietly
“Yes” you nod to reaffirm what you just said
“Well. If you are going to help her. We’re coming with you” the Sheik declares in his gravelly voice. His right-hand man hides the smile that overtook his face. “I can’t let my future bride out of my sight, can I?” he jests, smiling alluringly at you. You noticed that he likes quite a lot to use ‘future bride’
After riding hard for what feels like forever, it seems your party might have a break. Up ahead, it’s an oasis of lush green plants and sparkling blue water.
“Our journey is blessed,” Tamina says with weary satisfaction. “We’ll stop here and then push for the mountain pass,” she instructs
The journey has brought you and the Sheik closer. As you travel toward the Guardian Temple, you discover that you work well together. You impress Amar with your ability to withstand and adapt to any circumstance, not caring if it fits the image of a princess or not. And you are taken by the goodness in his heart and the strength of his character. Not many could go against Garsiv and win and listen to your plea to spare your brother’s life. And that alone makes him irresistible to your eyes.
Tamina and Amar are giving water to the horses, while you and Seso are filling the canteens.
“He likes you.” You are startled by the voice of the African man. You look at him and his eyes are filled with kindness.
“Pardon?”
“Amar. He likes you, quite a lot. You were the first princess he was interested in” his voice is rough like he doesn’t use it much
“Interested in?”
“Yes. He has your portrait in his office. That’s how he recognized you, even dressed as a boy. He wanted to court you, but after what prince Jabir did. He backed down, not wanting to infuriate your father.”
Amar has your portrait. You knew that the adviser managed to send some portraits of you, that’s how prince Jabir arrived at the palace for your hand. But that means that the Sheik had his eye on you for 2 years. You are in shock.
“Why would I interest Sheik Amar?” you carefully say. Afraid that the answer is tied to your title.
“Your personality. He heard that you are not like the other princesses and that caught his interest. You are not afraid to get your hands dirty and you are one of the people. You care for everyone, not just the ones with a title” your heart beats at a quick tempo. You don’t get the chance to ask any more questions, because the Sheik comes to you with fresh dates in his hand.
“There’s a date palm here. Have some” he offers you the fruits with a grin
“Thank you, but no. They are my favorite, but I only like them dried” you refuse politely, and he flashes you a devilishly crooked smile
“Good to know. I’ll have to make sure I have dried dates at the palace for you” you are flabbergasted. This male is capable of doing anything for you, from defending you to having your favorite fruit as you want it.
You make camp at the oasis and are now sitting around the fire. And, as always, you sit next to Amar, close enough that your sides are in contact. Your pleasant conversation is cut short by the horses making a distressed noise. You notice the crease racing through the sand toward you. You watch in horror, as a pit viper emerges from the sand and goes to strike you. Before you can move, the snake has its head cut off by an ornate sword. The Sheik just saved you.
More vipers come and the four of you make quick work of killing them.
“We have to get out of here. Those snakes are controlled by Hassansins. Let’s go! Hurry!” they listen to you and the horses leave a trail of dust behind as they run like the wind
“Thank you,” you say after riding for a while, Amar turns his head, and the full force of his smoldering eyes is on you
“What for, princess?” he asks you quietly
“For saving me… again”
He smiles almost bashfully and looks down “I couldn’t let you die” is his gentle confession
You chuckle softly “How many times do you plan on saving me?” you ask teasingly
“As many times as you need saving, princess” his orbs draw you in their dark obscurity and you know that this isn’t a statement, it’s a promise
You reach the borderlands, but when you arrive at the first farmhouse, you sense that something is wrong. The village seems abandoned. Behind the first house, you discover the reason. Four of the priests who protected the temple are dead, their bodies slumped against the back of the house.
“They have been dead a long time,” Seso says, examining the bodies. “Tortured first.”
“These wounds aren’t from normal weapons,” you reply to Seso.
“Hassansins?” the Ngbaka warrior asks, and you nod.
“They were here. Nizam knows,” you say quietly
Just then, Sheik Amar comes up next to you after surveying the other houses.
“All dead. The entire village,” he informs you, fury altering his face. He doesn’t like it when innocent lives are lost.
“We need to go back to Alamut and undo what Nizam did” all nod at your pronouncement
“The guardians build passageways underneath the city for secret access to the Sandglass,” Tamina tells you as she leads your group down a darkened stairway in Alamut. She stops when she reaches a carving in the wall. Reaching behind it, she presses some sort of latch that opens a hidden doorway.
You go through the corridor and are attacked by Hassansins.
“Go! We’ll take care of them!” Amar’s deep voice instructs, looking at you with tenderness in his eyes. You gulp in fear. He can die because of you. You grab him and pull his mouth into a kiss. When you separate his eyes burn with adoration. He pushes you in the direction of the Sandglass and he once again gets in position to defend you.
You and Tamina run as fast as you can, but the princess falls and when you turn to her, she has two puncture wounds on her skin. You move faster.
You reach the Sandglass of the Gods. It is colossal and towers above the vaulted room. Its white sand casts an eerie light that dances through the air. As you look at it, you can see reflections of time shimmering in the glass—brief images from your life. You take the dagger out, ready to reverse time and save your father.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” your uncle’s voice is heard, and you turn to him “Give me the dagger. Let me become king and I’ll make you my queen,” he says with a fiendish smile
You are shocked. Now you understand what the look in his eyes was. Yearning. The kind face of your father flashes before your eyes accompanied by the affection in the brown eyes of the Sheik. You hit the Sandglass with the dagger and time rushes backward.
You blink your eyes and see that you are on the streets. Right after you conquered Alamut. Tamina informed you that you will be the only one that will remember that timeline. You see your brothers and uncle come towards you. You take a deep breath, it’s time to change the future.
Nizam is arrested and executed, and your father is alive and well and has agreed to the marriage between his eldest and the Alamut princess. Tus’s wedding to Tamina is in preparation when a message arrives for the king.
You and your brothers stand in front of your father, anxious to hear what made Sharaman so introspective.
“Sheik Amar, Ruler of the land of Aslan, seeks an audience with the King of Persia and the Princess of Persia upon his arrival.” He reads out loud, turning his eyes towards you “What do you say, daughter? Do you want to meet this man?”. The missive’s hidden message is clear, the Sheik seeks your hand in marriage.
You hear your heart pounding in your ears, and you surprise all the males in the room when you say “Yes”
In the garden, all of you sit on thrones, denoting your rank. Your father’s large throne is in the middle. Tus on the right, Garsiv on the left. You are seated next to the crown prince. Indicating that you will be his royal adviser. You all wait for the Sheik.
“Are you sure you want to meet this man, sister? He’s rumored to be ruthless and bloodthirsty” Tus whispers to you
“Yes, brother. Let us be respectful to Sheik Amar. He traveled quite far to see us.”
He nods at your wise words and turns to the gate, right as it opens. You brace yourself, preparing to see the man you came to love, but who doesn’t know you anymore. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him, riding his horse, dressed in the most luxurious blue ensemble. The tall man enters with no fanfare. Just a few men with gifts. Among them is also Seso, smiling brightly.
The portly man dismounts and walks with confidence towards the thrones, stopping before them to offer a respectful bow.
“It is an honor to meet the royal Persian family,” his deep voice says courteously
“We’re pleased that you came all this way to meet us. Tell me, what is the reason for your visit?” your father innocently asks, already knowing
“I seek your daughter’s hand in marriage, my King” silence falls over the garden, your servants know what happen the last time someone asked for your hand. “I have brought gifts, to aid in her decision,” he continues and waves to his men. And one steps forward, with a masterfully crafted telescope.
“I know you are fond of the stars; I hope this will help you admire them better” one of your eyebrows goes up your forehead. He waves to another male, who steps forward with a magnificent stallion.
“You are fond of riding; this is the fastest horse in the land. He will take you anywhere you wish” your eyes narrow in suspicion. Another servant with a box comes next to him and he opens the box, dried dates.
“I don’t understand this gift,” your father whispers, but you realize immediately their meaning. You get up and approach the Sheik as he presents the last gift. His coal eyes follow your every move as you come near.
“Dried dates. I know you don’t like fresh ones” he whispers softly so only you can hear
You are in front of him, gazing intently into his eyes. “You remembered?” you whisper softly. Afraid to hope that he wasn’t affected by the sands of time.
“How can I not remember what my feature bride likes?” he smiles alluringly at you, making a smile stretch on your face. You turn to your family and it’s clear to them, that the Sheik will be your husband.
A double wedding, for you and Tus. A colossal and joyful event. Everyone is pleased with the good fortune of the crown prince and the Lioness of Persia. And now, here you are, in your bed chambers with your husband. The pure white clothes make him stand out and his eyes darker.
“I still don’t understand why you wanted me” you softly mumble, looking at the ground. He comes to you and with his big hand takes your face, lifting it up. Nuzzling with his nose your temple.
"You are stubborn, intelligent, feisty, you care for everyone, you have a heart of gold, and you tend to need saving quite often. We are well-matched, my princess.” You chuckle at his words and bring his mouth in for a deep kiss.
“As I recall, you also kissed me before I confronted the Hassansins. When I couldn’t do anything more, but now, you are mine, princess” he kisses you passionately, making you whimper with need
"Amar." Your voice is pleading. You don't know what for, but he seems to understand as one large hand pushes your wedding dress off one shoulder and then the other. You stand naked before him, his burning eyes leaving trails of fire on your skin as they move from head to toe.
He removes his robes and your gaze shifts from his dark gaze to his berry lips to his broad chest to his soft stomach to…your eyes widen
“Do they usually come that large?” you gasp at the size of it. You studied anatomy books, but that doesn’t look like it did on paper.
“Not usually” he snickers at your astonished face. He guides you to the bed and settles you in the middle of it. Flower petals, as is the tradition to have them on the marital bed, brush your skin, an odd sensation, but pleasant.
He gets on top of you, supporting himself on one arm, while the other caresses your flesh. Your soft breasts touch his fleshy chest and are tickled by the dark hairs that are there. He starts to lick and kiss a path across your skin, mapping it. Moving slightly, he brushes his bearded cheek against your nipple, and you groan at the feeling. He teases the very tip of your nipple with his tongue until you arch beneath him asking for more.
"Amar" you whisper breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth and strokes firmly with his tongue the top of it. Your knuckles are white from gripping the bedsheets so tightly.
"Such wonderful sounds you make, my princess. I am eager to learn them all." His seductive voice whispers and he turns to give the same attention to your other breast, earning a breathy moan from you.
You are disappointed as he leaves your chest and moves down, between your legs. You feel him exhale against your sex and you shiver. He licks you open with a brush of his tongue and a whimper escapes your mouth. You feel the tip of his tongue sluggishly circling your bud and you buck against his face. His strong arms keep you steady and he starts alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking, making your quiver. You mew when a thick finger enters gently in your wet core. The sensation is foreign but enjoyable. Setting a rhythm, he adds another, and your hands fly to entangle themselves in his long hair. And with a high-pitched whine, you explode with pleasure
He crawls up to lie beside you, waiting for you to recover and ignoring the urge to claim you as his.
"Did you enjoy that, my princess?" he asks nipping at your throat. Your words have left you and you can only nod.
“Have you ever screamed, princess? Not in anger or pain, but from pleasure?” you shake your head, eyes locked to his eyes of fiery coals.
“I’ll make you scream for me, my princess” you feel his cock at your entrance and automatically shift backward against the pillows “Trust me. I won’t hurt you, Y/n,” he says soothingly as he strokes your face.
He pushes inside of you gently, stretching you, making room for himself in your body. You bite your lip, screwing your eyes shut at the pain. He’s big and your body is not used to anything inside it.
“Relax,” he says softly, peppering your face with kisses and hands rubbing your body. You feel him slip deeper and you whimper at the intrusion. He pants above you, restraining himself so he won’t hurt you. He pushes in, inch by inch, stopping when it becomes too much for you until he is fully inside. You gasp silently. He’s so close, like a very intimate hug. You feel his heartbeat hammering madly against your chest. His eyes are closed in concentration and beads of sweat are trailing down his tawny beige skin.
“Ready, princess?” he asks, licking his lips. You take another deep breath and nod. He kisses you deeply as he pulls gradually out of you, only to push back in. Your mouth falls open at the feeling and your hands dishevel his mane further. He establishes a sluggish rhythm, and you learn it and follow along, moaning his name.
The moment you start pulling him in further with your legs, he changes the tempo, going faster and, as he promised, making you scream in pleasure. He puffs in his endeavor, and you pull his hair, exposing the sun-kissed column of his throat, latching your lips to it, kissing and sucking at his heated skin.
With a growl, his thrusts become stronger, earning a wailed groan as you reach your peak. He loses the last bit of his control, pumping faster in you until he moans your name, overflowing your core with his cum.
He falls beside you, kissing and nuzzling your face until sleep overtakes both of you. A few months later you and your husband bask in the surprised, but happy faces of your father and brothers when you inform them that a child is on its way.