A/N: "The feeling of everything that he ever loved and cared for being taken away from him, still echoed in his soul, despite the fact that the Sands of Time had given it all back to him." How do you fix something that is Beyond Broken? This story picks up after the movie ends as Dastan works to figure out how to go on with is life with all the memories and pain from a timeline that has now never happened. Will history repeat itself? This first chapter picks up the moment Time rewinds and the dialogue is word for word from the movie, but I couldn't help but play in Dastan's mind and flush out what he must have been thinking/feeling during that moment. With that said, enjoy my take on the Prince of Persia After-Movie story plot. Please review once you're done reading, or send a little 'like' on the chapters you enjoyed.
Also, if you want, head over to YouTube and look up the video I had made that was the creation of the Plot Bunnies that this story became. Its called 'Prince of Persia - Pieces" and my username over there is crittleskittle. Just figured that since so many of you love my story, you will also enjoy the video I made.
Prolog: A Second Chance
It was loud. Impossibly loud. The Sands of Time surged around Dastan violently, tossing him like branches of a palm in a storm. The pain from his recently acquired wounds, and the growing fatigue from the unending fight for survival, made his mind unable to comprehend his swiftly changing surroundings. He could not even register if he still had a hold on the mystical dagger that had caused all this misery in the first place. Everything was a jumbled mess as his body was forced to surge backwards through time. Dastan had no idea if he had even stopped Nizam's evil plans. For all he knew, he was being sent to a time where he was not yet born, and possibly never will.
Slowly, the pain ebbed away. The gut wrenching vertigo dissipated as his feet seemed to find solid ground. The blinding golden light of the Sands dimmed greatly to a midmorning sunlight as Dastan found himself on the streets of Alamut. For a moment, Dastan couldn't comprehend the moment in time he found himself in. It was as if two sets of memories fought to take control of his mind, as just a weird sense of déjá vu or one of foreboding. Yet as he looked around, it became clear to Dastan that he was standing in the midst of the battle that had been the start of all this madness.
"Prince Dastan!" A faded voice exclaimed through the roar of battle. "Prince Dastan!" It called again.
As Dastan turned around to the source of the voice, his eyes widened as his breath hitched. What he saw caused his mind to fill with a new wave of confusion and doubt, for standing before him was a friend who was killed weeks ago.
"Bis, you're here," Dastan spoke in an uncertain tone, his hand automatically moved to touch his friend's chest as to make sure he was real and not a mirage. As his hand reached his friend, Dastan caught sight of the golden dagger firmly grasped in his hand. Then it was as if his memories snapped into place and everything became clear. It had happened! He had lived through all of this and had just gone back through time.
"Of course I'm here." Bis glanced down at the hand on his armored chest, confused at the Prince's statement. Yet, he thought nothing of it, as he looked back up at the face of the man who brought victory to the Persian Empire. "Our men have surrounded Alamut's palace," he informed with triumph.
Even though Dastan had finally come to grips with just how far back in time he had traveled, Dastan could not help but focusing his gaze down at his friend's chest despite the fading rush. Flashes of blood dripping down an opening chest wound, just like one of those many nightmares Dastan suffered during his escape, was happening in his mind's eye.
"The battle is over," Bis explained softly. Concern started to overtake the joys of victory as he noticed more of Dastan's odd behavior. Something was not right, the young Persian prince seemed disoriented; confused.
Those words snapped Dastan into the cold reality he was now in. He might have had stopped Nizam from going back to his childhood, but the battle with his treacherous uncle was not over. There was still a horrible chance of history repeating itself. It was a history that he would rather die than live through it again.
"Not yet," Dastan replied with his adrenalin rising to new heights.
With one last quick glance at Bis, Dastan reached for his other scimitar and raced off to the Palace. Last time he strolled into the High Temple just as Tus was giving Tamina the ultimatum of marriage or death. Dastan couldn't let it play out like that this time. No. He had to make it before they even step foot into the Palace.
The trumpets blasted the victory proclamation that sent the Persian army into an uproar of cheers. The ranks gathered at the stairs of the Alamutain Palace, awaiting the arrival of the Royal Family to officially claim victory.
"Wait!" a shout of desperation emitted from the crowds. Prince Dastan weaved in and out of his people, pushing his body with all he had just to get in front of his brothers. "Wait!" He had to stop Nizam. He must convince Tus to not go through with this plan that was built solely on lies.
Dastan made it to the staircase just as his brothers dismounted their horses. He pushed through the crowds, taking steps two at a time. "Wait," he gasped out. He wished the men around him would just stop padding his back in celebration and get out of his way.
"Brave soldiers of Persia," Dastan shouted over the cheers, when he reached a high enough place to be seen by all. "We have been deceived into attacking this Holy City!" He lifted his hand that had a firm grasp on his duel scimitars, gesturing at the Palace behind him. "Alamut has no weapon forges!"
"Dastan!" Tus shouted getting the attention of his brother, his voice dropping after looking around at the men that surrounded them. "Have you gone mad?"
Dastan's focus locked on his uncle the moment Nizam place a hand on Tus's shoulder as he moved past the Crown Prince. "I cannot stand silent in the face of treachery," Dastan explained with a deathly calm falling upon his outer appearance even though inside, his mind still rang with never ending turmoil.
He dare not turn his back on Nizam, who step around Dastan to take the higher ground. "This war was set up by one trusted above all else, our Uncle Nizam!" Dastan declared with an accuse finger pointed at the man.
"Dastan has fought hard today, perhaps too hard!" Nizam quickly tried to discredit with a smile. "What he needs now is to get out from under this burning sun to rest, gather his wits!" he laughed off.
Dastan couldn't help but shake his head at his uncle's attempt to play off this charge against him. The army let out a laugh, and he could feel his heart pound wildly in his chest. He turned and saw that his two brothers smiled at their uncle's jab, but their smiles faltered quickly at seeing his unamused face.
Oh his brothers, how could they ever know the things he was now burden with? He had to make them see. He couldn't let them die… not a second time.
"The weapons we found are forgeries! There are no weapons here, Uncle," he spat, "and you know it!" Dastan turned back and saw the cockiness in Nizam's face. That face, the man that Dastan had once looked up to, was planning to take the crown by any means. He could feel the rage building within him. "And the spy who supposedly intercepted them was hired by you, to persuade ALL OF US to invade ALAMUT!" he yelled as all of his rage, anger, and frustration finally spilled out into his voice.
"What is this, Dastan? Victor's remorse?" Nizam continued to play off his surprised but did not pull it off. "You yourself led the attack! Brought us this great triumph!" The crowd went into an uproar at the last statement but on the inside Nizam was beginning to panic. There was no good reason why his curbside nephew should know these things.
"I should never have let the attack happen!" Dastan looked at his brothers' disbelieved faces. His words seemed so harsh and cruel especially among so many witnesses. His voice dropped as his older brother slowly moved towards him. Dastan hated doing this to him. "I knew in my heart that it was wrong."
Before Tus could say anything, Dastan quickly turned and got right into Nizam's face and spoke only loud enough for him to hear alone. "It will never be you. You will never be king. You don't have the heart." Dastan felt the smile form on his lips, as words came to mind that he knew would cut through Nizam better than any sword. He grounded every word into his uncle just as the older man had twisted his thumb into his wounded side not even ten minutes prior.
"You will die in the shadow of a great man."
When Nizam went for is sword, Dastan all but spoke for him to attack, for his fate would then be sealed. However, Nizam let go of his sword and raised his hands, silently telling his nephew that it would not be that easy.
"Get him down from there before he makes an even bigger fool of himself!" Garsiv shouted to one of the guards out of aggravation. Dastan glared at Nizam's smug features. He would not let him win.
"Tus," Dastan turned around, totally ignoring the guard, and went straight for his brother. Panic started to once again fill him, as this was the last chance for Dastan to convince his brother to not allow this attack to continue any future. "Before you left Nasaf, Father told you this 'That a true king considers the advice of counsel, but he always listens to his own heart'."
Now, Tus was feeling truly unsettled by the events folding out in front of him. His little brother was acting odd enough and making the most gravest of accusations against family no less, yet here Dastan stood before him speaking with knowledge that should not be within him.
"Father and I were alone. How could you know that?" Tus asked trying to grasp this ever changing conversation.
"He was right," Dastan ignored the question. His increasing heartbeat made his voice falter with anxiety. "He knows us, and he knows what we're capable of. Just listen to your heart," Dastan nearly pleaded.
"He defies your orders in the attack and now wants to turn back," Nizam spoke up, appearing next to Dastan. He would not be overshadowed.
Dastan stared intently at his brother trying to hold in all the emotion that was welling up inside. Having his uncle stand so close to his big brother, sent fear through him as the memory of Nizam spilling his brother's blood flashed in his mind. Dastan felt his lip start to tremble. So much was at stake.
"Tus, take measure here," Nizam advised as he tried to remain superior in appearance.
Dastan nodded at his uncle's words, praying hard that Tus would take heed of their father's words and do the right thing. The Crown Prince kept shifting his stare between a man that was family by blood, and the man that was his brother by heart. The tension was almost too much for Dastan to bear, his eyes started to burn with pleading tears, his throat closing up as all he could do was stand there and wait for Tus to make his decision. It all came down this, and Dastan knew that if Tus did not believe him, that he would be left with no other choice but to kill their uncle himself. Dastan would be put to death, but at least his brothers and father would still live, and Tamina and the power of the Dagger would be safe. It's what he'd think a great man would do.
"The spy knows the truth." Tus finally decided. "Find the spy!" How he ended up is such a difficult place as choosing between his uncle and brother, Tus didn't know. However, he'd be damned to trust emotions alone when dealing with a matter that held such importance. Yes, finding the spy would answer things.
Dastan felt a wave of relief wash over him like cool water by that demand.
"Bring him to me! We'll wring it from him!" Tus affirmed loudly.
Dastan turned and faced his uncle with a confident expression of victory. He took a moment to take in the confused and defeated face of Nizam before turning his back on him to follow his brothers down the stairs. 'We'll see what he has to say now,' Dastan thought.
He took only a few steps before he heard a sword being unsheathe. With quick reflexes, Dastan spun around just to see his uncle lunge at him. Instantly Nizam's personal guards surrounded Dastan and attacked him with their spears. It was three against one, but Dastan was so tired of being attacked by his own people, that the Prince showed no mercy and disposed of the guards quickly with just a few skilled slashes. He could only take a breath before Nizam himself grabbed another sword from one of the shocked bystanders and charged at his nephew with a wild fury of a man who has just lost his dream. Dastan, taken only partially by surprise, had to throw himself backwards to get away from tip of his slashing sword. Dastan's back hit the stair rail and was quickly disarmed by Nizam. A shout of surprise escaped from Dastan, as he managed to grab the wrists of his uncle before he was sliced to ribbons. Using the last bit of strength he had, Dastan used Nizam's momentum and threw him over the edge.
The crowd was in shock. No one had moved to neither aid in the fight nor try to stop it due to who the battle was with. The bond of family was well known within the ranks of the army as well as the Nation, so no one was mentally prepared for such treachery, between the Royal Family.
Dastan leaped down and stood over his fallen uncle shaking his head at the last failed attempt of a desperate man. He bent down, placing his hand and weight down on Nizam's chest so he could barely take breath. "You had what every man could ever dream of, love, respect, and family. But that wasn't enough for you, was it?" Dastan spat on the ground, though for Nizam, it felt as if his face that was spat upon.
Dastan moved away from his uncle and retreated to his brothers. He did not have to worry anymore. Nizam sealed his fate with his attack. All that was entering his thoughts now was the need to sit down. His energy was fading, everything that was happening, and everything that had happened in an unknown past, was quickly taking its toll on him. If it wasn't for Tus quick action, Dastan would, surly in that very moment, be breathing his last breath at the hands of his uncle's blade. Yet, Tus hadn't looked away. The Persian Army went into an uproar of shocked filled chatter at the sight of the Crown Prince running his sword into the King's brother.
Dastan put his hand on Tus's shoulder giving his brother thanks and comfort to what just happened. Tus grasped his brother's arm and the two of them shared a look relief that the other was alive. Likewise, Garsiv too put a hand on Tus' shoulder thankful as well that his little brother was saved. Tus threw is arm around Dastan and led him into the crowd of cheering Persians and away from their treacherous uncle's dead body. They had much to talk about in private before addressing the Princess of Alamut.