Author's Notes: Again, not a drabble. But whatever. Garsiv love 4evr.
Title: oh i just can't wait
Summary: A third son, with no eye on his throne.
oh i just can't wait
Dastan sneaks away early from Tus's sixteenth birthday party. It's a big celebration: he's a man now, ready in the eyes of the law to take over the crown should it become necessary. Dastan isn't worried; for one thing, their father is the strongest man he knows, possibly that's ever lived, ever. And for another, Tus will make a great king. He knows all the boring political stuff they're supposed to memorize in school (though Dastan usually doesn't).
He finds Garsiv in their favorite spot, wedged between the outside wall and the balcony. You can dangle your legs off and look all the way down.
He sits quietly for a few moments before asking curiously, "Do you want to be king?"
Garsiv looks at him, startled. "No," he says instantly, and then hesitates. "Well. Maybe. I don't know. Why? Do you?"
Dastan hides his smile as he looks down. He likes it when Garsiv forgets that they're not related by blood. "Nope. Not in a million years."
"Sometimes I think it might be cool, having all that power," Garsiv confides after a beat of silence. "But you'd also have to spend a lot of time at parties with those fat guys and their ugly wives, so." He tosses a flower petal off the edge and they watch it float down. "And it would mean that I'd have to kill Tus."
The idea is so ridiculous that they both laugh.