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Chapter Text

A young boy looked out over the rich ivory and pearlescent tones of the roofs of the city. Though his eyes were dry, his cheeks were still damp. He sat upon the balcony railing, seemingly numb to the wailing of mourners and the despair of the townspeople.

But Genie knew better. There was more weighing on the boy than most realized. No, not a boy anymore. He hadn’t been a boy for the past year or so. At sixteen he’d already crossed blades with someone determined to destroy him, and now . . . he would most certainly be forced to set childish things aside. War was just a day or two beyond the horizon, a horrible fate for a peace-loving kingdom.

“Your highness,” Genie ventured.

The dark-haired man turned to him, pain in his honeyed brown eyes. “Was it–?”

Genie shook his head, knowing what he was about to ask. “She passed peacefully.”  He offered a sad smile. “Did you really think I’d forget the first wish of a scared, heartbroken boy?”

The young boy’s mother had been stricken with an incurable disease nearly five years ago, a disease that the parents of a friend had experienced with excruciating pain near the end. Genie could still remember when the boy, then barely eleven, ran to him, begging for a cure. Unfortunately, a cure was beyond Genie’s abilities, so the boy had settled for the wish that when the time came, his mother would pass peacefully and without pain. The wish itself had had gray areas galore, but Genie had wrestled his powers into the desire of the broken boy’s heart.

“Did she free you?” the young man asked.

Genie released a half-depreciating chuckle. “I’m the Genie of the Royal House of Ababwa. Only the one on the throne or immediately destined for the throne is allowed to do that. I know you’ve gotten into the habit but . . .”  He waved it off. “You have two more wishes, that’s less than most sultans start with.”

“That’s all I need, . . . Khaleel,” the sultan-to-be answered.

Genie smiled, handing over the lamp, his tie to this boy’s family for generations. Honestly, he had it better off than most genies. Most got passed around through dozens if not hundreds of masters, trapped in their lamps for centuries or millennia. He could at least pretend that he’d had his own wish to be human granted already.

He jolted as he felt the insistent pull that always came from someone rubbing the lamp.

“Genie, I wish for the safety of Ababwa, that Ababwa will remain hidden from those who wish harm or destruction upon it.”

Genie nodded, quietly weaving the protective magic that would physically hide Ababwa from any enemies and keep any potential enemies from finding Ababwa in any books or maps. He could see the wisdom of this wish. Ababwa may have overflowed with riches and held various alliances, but its military had always been the weaker when it came to war. Part of why he had been recruited as the family genie.

“It is as you wished, young sultan,” he said.

“That leaves only one more thing to take care of.”

Genie protested as the young man started rubbing the lamp again. “Ali! No!”

“I wish to set you free.”

Genie froze. Had he really just . . .? He felt the magic drain from him as the jeweled, gold manacles fell to the ground and disintegrated to dust. He wasn’t much changed, not really since he’d already been in his human form. But . . . was it really possible?

Ali still sat upon the balcony rail, leaning back against a bare trellis. But a small smile now decorated his face.

Genie (could he really be called that anymore?) had to test that this was real. “Tell . . . tell me to do something.”

Ali chuckled. “I’d like some jams?”  Of course, for his notorious sweet tooth.

“Get them yourself?”  No backlash of disobeying a wish. No punishment for defying his master. He laughed. “Get your own jams!”  It was real. He was free. No strings attached, no longer pretending. He was free. The knowledge overwhelmed him.

Ali left his place and wrapped his arms around the freed genie. “It’s alright, Khaleel,” he said.

“Thank you,” Khaleel whispered. “Thank you.”

Once they separated, Ali asked, “Well, what now?”

Khaleel shrugged. “I’ll stick around. I still have to find that right girl.”

Ali lightly chuckled. “Maybe we’ll find our girls in the same place. Oh, and don’t you forget, Khaleel, it’s Aladdin. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’ve always been my friend, and my friends reserve Ali for formal addresses.”

Khaleel grinned. “Alright, Aladdin.”  He took a deep breath, enjoying the air of freedom. He then allowed his joy to sober. “We best change into the sackcloth for mourning.”

Aladdin slowly nodded. “Thanks to you, we are free to mourn Mother as she deserves.”

“Thanks to you,” Khaleel returned. He put an arm around his young friend’s shoulders and gently led him away. The next few weeks and months would be hard and full of adjustments, but he had a feeling the young prince would pull through.

~*~*~

Atop a blue sand dune, beneath a near moonless but starlit sky, a figure sat atop a dark horse, flanked by two others. His dark eyes searched the rolling dunes before him. That desert rat should have arrived an hour ago. Finally, he spied a small dust cloud kicked up by a rider approaching at great speed.

A few minutes later, a horse, half-wasted, slid and snorted to a halt. The man upon the beast jumped to the ground, as though fearful the steed would collapse under his weight. He shook out his robes on his stocky frame, pulling himself to a full height that would have barely met the waiting man’s shoulders. He stank of filth, blood, cunning, and deceit.

“You are late,” the lord said, looking down his nose at the ratty though garish man beneath him.

“A thousand apologies, O Patient One,” the man said, bowing so that his desert turban almost swept the sands at his feet.

“You have it then?” the “Patient One” asked.

“I had to slit a few throats, but I do possess it,” the murderer answered. He reached into his inner tunic, faint starlight gleaming on the jewel he revealed. The lord reached for it, but the thief leaped back, tutting. “Not so fast. I want my payment.”

“You dare disrespect the vizier?” one of the guards demanded.

“Silence,” the vizier said, raising a halting hand.

The thief cried out as a bird’s talons scratched him, stealing away the jewel.

“Do not fear, Gazeem,” the vizier said, catching the jewel as the parrot dropped it into his hand. He withdrew a near identical jewel from his own tunic. “You shall have your reward.”  He ran his fingers over the jewels that he knew to be solid gold. A half scarab inlaid with jade wings and tooled with fine bronze filigree. The one Gazeem had just brought him was more tarnished and crusted with dirt and still drying blood. But it also had a slim, narrow shelf running down its inner center that would fit perfectly into the crack of his own half.

His world narrowed in on this single, halved jewel. He was just one step closer to gaining what he sought, to becoming the most powerful man in the world, to making Shehrabad pay for what they did to him. He fit the pieces together. For a second, the jewel sat whole and complete in his hands but lifeless. However, before his fury at being deceived could overtake him, the scarab sprang to life, glowing as bright as a torch’s flame, flying upon translucent, golden wings.

The scarab flew about before shooting across the sands like an arrow loosed from a bow. “Follow it! Quickly!” the vizier shouted. He kicked his horse straight into a gallop, his guards quick to follow, Gazeem half-bumbling onto his nag. This was why he had risked taking horses into the desert sands. Camels never would have kept up with the scarab. Even as they climbed up and half-slid down the sand dunes, the horses could barely keep the jewel within sight.

The vizier whipped his horse. “Faster, you stupid brute!”  The horse whinnied shrilly but put forth another burst of speed.

A shadow, darker than night rose up before them. The mountains on the borders of Agrabah. The scarab wove through stone arches before circling an irregular dune against a cliff face.

The horse screamed as the vizier reined it to a halt, watching as the scarab separated into two once again before burrowing into the sand. A whirlwind swept through the valley, ripping at the dune, and creating a sandstorm.

The vizier barely heard the men behind him, barely heard the horses panicking. It was forming. The entry was revealing itself. Finally, the winds died down. In the sandstone cliff face the giant face of a great tiger, fangs jutting from the opened mouth, ready to devour any deemed unworthy. “Yes, this is it,” he said gleefully. “The Cave of Wonders.”

“Cave of Wonders,” his parrot croaked.

“Gazeem!” the vizier called.

The thief stumbled forward, shock and awe stunning him.

“Go forth and bring me the lamp,” the vizier commanded. “Claim what you will of the treasure, but remember the lamp is mine.”  The vizier knew not if the treasure was free for the taking, but even if it was not, there was one string too many to leave stranded.

“Yes, O Great Vizier,” Gazeem said with another bow. He eagerly approached the Cave.

Yet before the thief had even reached the threshold of the great mouth, a roar rumbled through the desert, shaking the ground beneath the horse’s hooves. “Who disturbs my slumber?” the glowing eyes and inner throat throbbing with each syllable.

“Ah, Gazeem,” the stocky peasant answered, kneeling and bowing his forehead to the ground. “A humble thief.”

“Know this,” the Cave of Wonders warned, “only One may enter. One whose worth lies far within. The Diamond in the Rough.”

Gazeem turned back to the vizier, spreading his hands helplessly.

“What are you waiting for?” the vizier demanded. “Go on!”

Fear weakened the thief’s knees even as he turned once again to the cave. With cautious, furtive steps, he stepped across the lip of the cave, just beyond the fangs. He paused. Then a roar, far greater than the one before shook the whole desert. It nearly drowned out Gazeem’s screams as he tried to escape the collapsing jaws.

“Seek ye out, the Diamond in the Rough,” the Cave of Wonders commanded, its voice echoing about them as its fiery light faded away.

“What now, my lord Jafar?” one the guards asked.

“Why we return to Agrabah, and seek out this ‘Diamond in the Rough’ that can enter the cave,” Jafar answered turning away. And, perhaps, he should perform some better research, find more reliable sources that will tell him the truth about the Cave of Wonders.

Chapter Text

~Three years later~

“Come on, Mozenrath. Won’t you at least consider?” Aladdin asked.

“Sworn enemies, Ali,” the pale wizard snapped. “I don’t care what that woman said.”

“Sworn enemies who are brothers by birth and, because of Mother’s dying wish, can’t destroy each other,” Aladdin argued. How many times over the past three years had they gone over this? Ever since the fight that ended because they couldn’t harm anyone on the opposing side. On Aladdin’s part, it was tiring, trying to build a peace when his older, illegitimate brother continually wanted war.

Mozenrath growled, turning to Khaleel. “Talk some sense into this boy. That woman wasn’t my mother.”

“She didn’t see it that way,” Khaleel said. “If she’d had her way, you and Ali would have grown up together. We just couldn’t find you. She loved you like her own.”

“And talking sense into that idiot ‘brother’ of mine?”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried,” Khaleel said. “And if it ever succeeded, he would have stopped impaling himself on your sword after the second Talk we had here.”

Aladdin smirked from his leaning stance as Mozenrath half-whirled to see him casually resting on the sword’s blade. The fascinating nature of the wish fulfillment: a weapon could go through them but not harm them. It didn’t even hurt. But he wasn’t so much of an “idiot” as to let it go through his heart or head.

He jerked back as a hard hand slapped his cheek. The sword swept down and out of him in a familiar, odd tingling sensation, just before he was sent reeling the opposite direction by a backhand.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?!” Mozenrath shouted. “Do you have a death wish?!”

Aladdin almost smiled as he caught what he’d been waiting for. Underneath that angry tone was worry, not too much different from Mother’s voice. “So, you do care.”

Mozenrath froze. He growled as he half-turned away. “Fine! You’ve gotten under my skin. You’re an idiot kid who needs protecting, and Allah help me I think I’m taking on the responsibility.”

“Oh, it isn’t so bad, big brother,” Aladdin said, giving him a teasing smile around the ache.

If looks could kill, Mozenrath would have murdered him right then. “You have your peace between us, what more do you want?”

“The possibility of a regent or a fellow sultan over Ababwa?” Aladdin returned.

“What?”

“I’m sure you know by now that I am searching for a wife. But there is the possibility that if she is an only child, there will be not one but two kingdoms for me to rule, or help rule. I need someone who won’t take any of the nonsense of the grouchy nobles and haughty viziers, who can at least learn to love the people of Ababwa as much as I do.”

“You do recall my own kingdom, don’t you?” Mozenrath asked, with a raised eyebrow. “I am the Lord of the Black Sands. I rule the kingdom of the undead.”

“You were never meant to rule the undead, Mozenrath,” Aladdin said. “And if you are willing to change, I want you to help me rule Ababwa. Like Baba and Mother would have wanted us to.”

Mozenrath sighed. Looking to Khaleel he asked, “He’s not going to give this up, is he?”

Khaleel shook his head. “Not for the next fifty years or more.”

The wizard growled low. “Fine. Have it your way, I’ll at least consider it.”

“I’ll send–”

“No tutors!” Mozenrath snapped. “They’ll only become mamluk feed.”

“Okay,” Aladdin said, holding his hands up. “I’ll see ya around.”

“What? No set date, your ‘highness’?” Mozenrath teased.

“I’ll be visiting a kingdom for a few months, considering the possibilities,” Aladdin said.

“Good luck,” Mozenrath said. “Be sure to let me know if I should be preparing engagement and wedding presents.”

“I will,” Aladdin said. “Just nothing the mamluks have touched.”

“Even I have a sense of cleanliness,” Mozenrath said.

Aladdin nodded in farewell. “Allah be with you and protect you.”

“The same to you, and may he bless your endeavors,” Mozenrath returned turning away.

As they left the too familiar meeting place, Khaleel said, “I am surprised it actually worked this time.”

“If nothing else, he’ll allow us some peace for a couple months,” Aladdin said.

“When are you going?”

“As soon as I can get into my street clothes.”

“Please say that you’ll let Jephtha take you.”

“Of course, but as soon as I’m within the gates, I’m on my own for three months.”

“Just like the last times. I’ll get you the night of the third full moon,” Khaleel said. “The entourage will be ready and waiting.”

Aladdin released a long breath.

“Alright, why the long face?” Khaleel asked.

“What if I never find her?”

Khaleel gently bumped him. “You will. The Desert Moon will guide you. That’s what your mother wished.”

“Well, the moon hasn’t been any help yet,” Aladdin said. “I don’t even want to know how many kingdoms I’ve visited.”

“Some of them leading to the defeat of a hundred villains in total,” Khaleel said. “Awesome for your resume. And you’ve gained more allies, saved a few kingdoms.”

“Got a few scars for my troubles,” Aladdin acknowledged, “and a fear of mud.”

Khaleel even cringed. “Oo, yeah. There’s a reason I never bring that venture up. I doubt anyone would believe me anyway. Oh, Sadira stopped me the other day. Zahir is doing wonderful, growing up into a fine five-year-old. You never would have guessed that he was once a hatred and vengeance driven genie.”

“So, it paid off to give him a second chance,” Aladdin said, releasing a small smile.

“But remember, it doesn’t always work like that,” Khaleel said. “Sometimes that evil is just too strong to be overcome.”

“Zahir was a special situation, Khaleel. You know that. It’s not too often you come across genies who were human and somehow became a genie.”

“Aladdin!”  A young girl, barely ten, ran from Ababwa’s gates, closely followed by a harried woman who appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties.

Aladdin chuckled, sweeping the girl into his arms with a hug. “Are you giving Eden trouble, Dhandi?” he asked.

“Not intentionally,” she answered.

Eden reached them, huffing lightly. “This girl has to learn to slow down and finish her chores.”

Dhandi giggled behind her hands.

“She’s still a child, Eden,” Khaleel said, smiling.

“That in some countries would be considered of marriageable age within two to three years,” Eden returned.

“Well, thankfully the youngest anyone can marry in Ababwa is sixteen,” Aladdin said. “So, so long as chores are finished, and finished properly, ten-year-olds can still be children.”  He kissed the girl’s cheek much to her giggling and blushing delight.

Dhandi was a girl that he had met during one of his stays on Ababwa’s streets. It had actually turned his planned month into nearly five before they had discovered Eden. Well, Dhandi had discovered Eden while wiping dirt off a hookah shaped lamp. Thankfully, Eden was the kind and considerate sort of genie who worked the gray areas into the wisher’s favor. And it was after Aladdin explained some of the rules and how he personally liked to grant genies their own wish in the end, he had outed himself as Prince Ali. Dhandi had been eager to free Eden with her last wish, but had accidentally wished Eden’s staying with her.

So, Aladdin had borrowed the lamp to make two wishes on behalf of Dhandi’s future and freed Eden from her lamp. Ever since then, Dhandi lived in the palace as his ward and Eden as her adoptive mother. Even if they were sometimes more like an older and younger sister.

“I heard you were leaving again,” Dhandi said, looking down to where her fingers were fiddling with some gold cord.

“I am,” Aladdin answered.

“Why?”

“Because, I want to find a special someone who I can share the rest of my life with.”

“But you haven’t found her before.”

“I’d like to think that it’s because I wasn’t looking in the right place. And I have to keep searching or else all my advisors will start torturing me with talk of arranged marriages.”

Dhandi sighed before peeking up at him. “Where are you going this time?”

“Agrabah,” Aladdin said. “It is a lovely seaside kingdom to our west. I’ll be back with news before four months have passed.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And no trouble for Eden while I’m gone.”

“Okay. When are you leaving?”

“So long as I’m not caught,” he said, switching her around so that she was riding on his back, “I hope to be heading off within the next hour.”

“Eden and I can help,” Dhandi said excitedly.

“You can?” Aladdin asked. There was the smile he wished to leave her with. The girl nodded eagerly, hugging his shoulders. “Okay, I can’t get caught by any of the nobles or my viziers. Jephtha will be whisking me away as soon as I’m ready.”

“We won’t let them within sight of the hall,” Dhandi promised.

“Good girl,” Aladdin said. “Now, let’s get to the palace quick.”

They laughed together, the two former genies with them joining in ruefully. “Do you realize you may have instigated a one-sided prank war?” Khaleel asked under his breath as they neared the palace gates.

“Dhandi needs at least a bit of distraction,” Aladdin said with a shrug.

Khaleel rolled his eyes with a smile. “Eden,” he said, “keep Dhandi preoccupied with her plotting for at least ten minutes. I do have some good news for those people concerning Mozenrath, and I would rather not have to tell them while they’re irate.”

“You got it, Khaleel,” Eden said. “Oh, Aladdin, try not to collect another magical artifact.”

“You know how these things go, Eden,” Aladdin said. “It must be my irresistible charm.”

Eden rolled her eyes.

“Who knows,” Aladdin said, “the next genie might be your type.”

Eden smirked, considering him out of the corner of her eye. “Remember, he needs to be a little on the quirky side with a great sense of humor. None of the dour or dark types.”

Aladdin chuckled. “I’ll even throw in good with kids as a bonus,” he said, tickling the back of Dhandi’s knees.

The girl squirmed with giggles before Aladdin set her down, turning and crouching down on her level. “Eden and I won’t let those men near you,” she promised.

“And I’ll be back within four months,” he promised back. They hugged one last time before Dhandi grabbed Eden’s hand, dragging her off laughing.

“I’ll send Jephtha to you,” Khaleel said. “Remember to be careful.”

“I will,” Aladdin said. “See you in three months. Oh, and if it seems promising, I’ll see if there’s a possible match for you as well.”

Khaleel chuckled. “You just focus on learning that city and staying out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” Aladdin said, but left unsaid was how trouble always seemed to find him despite his trying to avoid it. He embraced his best friend and confidant before he slipped away to his rooms.

Aladdin removed his gold and ivory cloak, tossing it over a chair as he approached his wardrobe. Pressing a hidden latch, he opened a secret compartment. There were some who would steal these old clothes away and destroy them if they could find them. So, he always kept them hidden.

A few short minutes later, his fine, white linen pants were replaced by the narrower, faded tan leggings. His finely tailored shirt and vest were exchanged for a rougher, thinly striped shirt and hooded vest. His golden belt was laid aside for a worn, green sash, and his fine turban for a purple fez with green stitching. Finally, custom boots removed for a pair of old but serviceable half-boots. Throwing a worn satchel over his head and shoulder, he inspected himself in a three paneled, gold-framed mirror. He messed his hair a little before smiling in satisfaction.

“Abu,” he called.

The little monkey appeared from his little hidey hole, chattering in excitement. He scampered across the room before clambering up the prince to settle on his shoulder.

“Ready to explore a new city and make new friends?” Aladdin asked.

Abu chattered the affirmative.

Aladdin always made sure to leave Abu at home when dealing with Mozenrath. The last time the monkey came along, a cursed amulet had come away in his sticky paws. Ever since then, Aladdin distracted Abu into the monkey’s own little house where he couldn’t cause trouble.

He’d first met Abu about five years ago, when he and his mother were visiting a neighboring kingdom. That led to his first grand adventure, one that only he, Abu, and Khaleel knew of. And Aladdin wished it to stay that way. In fact, he’d very much like to forget it himself. Magical artifacts weren’t to be toyed with.

After that, Aladdin never ventured out into the streets without Abu. The monkey was the perfect companion for a lowly street rat.

Aladdin checked the hidden pockets in the satchel. Not quite enough gold to last three months in a good city. In a good city someone would take a chance of hiring a street rat. In a bad city he’d have to “steal” to survive. He was such a good pickpocket, he could pay the stall owners and they’d never notice until the end of the day.

“You can only be as happy as your least happy subject,” Mother used to say. Apparently, it was something she and a friend had agreed upon years ago.

So, Aladdin took on the role (as best he could) of any kingdom’s least happy subject. Some cities, while he could get by, many others couldn’t. And the rulers didn’t care. Those places, he always kept his official visit as brief as politely possible.

Aladdin raided his personal coffers, packing as many gold pieces as he would need to survive without weighing himself down needlessly.

He jerked to the door as it cracked open.

“It’s only me,” Jephtha said. He was a genie that while desiring freedom and humanity also wished to keep some of his powers. He was now the local wizard, specializing in parties and helping the prince safely and quickly reach each kingdom he wished to visit. “Are you ready, your highness?”

“I am,” Aladdin answered. He paused. Something checked him. “Wait.”  He went over to a chair near his balcony. It was the chair Mother used to sit in. Her favorite robe draped across it and her lute sat upon it, as though waiting for her graceful fingers to dance across the strings again. He picked the instrument up. He traced the strings without a sound.

Abu mewled in question.

“It’s coming with us,” Aladdin said. “I’m not sure why, but I feel like I need to bring this with me.”  He swung the strap on opposite his satchel and settled the wooden instrument upon his back. “Now I’m ready.”

Jephtha nodded with a smile. He waved his hands about in a circular motion parallel to the ground.

Aladdin closed his eyes as he felt the magic whip around him, allowed it to carry him away. He knew that when he again opened his eyes, he would be on the other side of the continent, in Agrabah.

~*~*~

The princess stared out over her city from her balcony. She had had enough of waiting, of hearing the fear fueled warnings and suspicious mutterings. Nearly ten years have passed since she last journeyed with her mother beyond the walls of the palace. She wanted to wander the market stalls again. Experience the hustle and bustle of the city. Visit the people she loved.

She hadn’t been with her mother on that last fatal venture. She had been only eight-years-old at the time and had been sick. She had told Mother to go ahead and visit the people, then come back and tell her about everything she had seen and heard. She had never returned. She had been murdered upon the streets, in a shadowed alleyway.

Jafar had claimed it was the people of Agrabah who had killed her. Baba had listened and locked the gates against the people. The princess could not believe that the people her mother loved would turn on their queen so heartlessly.

Now, she was tired of being trapped like a bird in a gilded cage. She wanted to breathe the free, dusty air beyond the palace walls. And, if she could, she wanted to find answers for why her mother had been killed.

“Dalia,” she said, “I need to find the most unassuming gown I have.”

“Oh, what idea did you get in your head this time?” her handmaid and confidant asked.

“I am going outside the palace walls,” the princess said.

“Jasmine, have you gone mad?” Dalia gasped.

“No. I am simply sick of being guarded and trapped like some secret jewel. Now come on.”  She led the way into her spacious closet, almost lost in the sea of a vibrant, jewel-tone rainbow. “I need something that will allow me to blend in,” she said, searching through the rustling fabrics.

“And if we are unable to find it?” Dalia asked, joining in the search.

“Then we will make one ourselves.”  Jasmine whipped her head around as Dalia laughed. “What?”

“If need be, I’ll be the one making it,” Dalia corrected, her eyes sparkling. “A fine princess and lady you are with a brilliant head upon your shoulders, yet you could never stitch a straight line. Oh, I’ll let you choose the fabrics you desire, but I’ll cut and sew where needed.”

Jasmine smiled. “Thank you, Dalia.”

“Are you sure this isn’t about the fifth prince come to call this month?” Dalia asked as they continued their rummaging. “What was his name again?”

“Achmed,” Jasmine answered, considering a rich chocolate brown satin before discarding it. “Sounds more like a cough than a name.”

“Why was it that he stormed out of the gardens?”

Jasmine bit back a laugh as a smile stretched across her face. “He was harassing Rajah, and when that stuffy prince turned his back, Rajah took a bite out of the lower half of his tunics.”

Dalia exploded into laughter, prompting Jasmine to release her own. “So that explains why he was shouting to his attendants with his half-torn cloak wrapped about his waist.”

“It’s not my fault Rajah felt the need to defend himself,” Jasmine added. “He had every right to.”  Of course, that was not how Baba and Jafar saw it. But there had been nothing to stop Achmed from storming out of the palace and leaving Agrabah. Jasmine certainly felt no compulsion to apologize, not after he had insulted her and her mother. She forced her thoughts away from that awful scene and back to the situation at hand.

“And this isn’t about that,” Jasmine said, redirecting both of them away from the overdressed, self-absorbed prince. “I want to see my people again. I want to know what has changed and what has not outside the palace walls.”

“Well, depending on how secret you wish this to be,” Dalia said, “the sewing may take awhile.”  She released a long puff of air. “Just looking through all these gowns will take at least a week.”

Jasmine blew out her own quiet puff. This would take awhile. But she was determined to find a way to slip out of the palace unnoticed and finally escape this cage for at least a few moments.

~*~*~

Aladdin inspected the tower room he had found in an old, abandoned house. He smiled broadly. This was perfect.

“Someone is very happy,” Jephtha noted.

“I love it,” Aladdin said. “I’ll spend a couple days fixing this place up, making sure I’ll be safe here. But I am all settled in.”  Carefully setting his mother’s lute aside, he dropped onto a tattered cushion.

“I’ll tell Khaleel you arrived safely and are situated.”

“Thanks, Jephtha,” Aladdin said.

“You’re welcome. Well, I’m off. Be careful and stay out of trouble.”

The prince laughed. “I will be doing my absolute best.”  A moment later, it was just him and Abu. He released a long breath. “Come on, Abu. Let’s see what we can find in this place that can make it a bit more of a home.”

It took a week before he was satisfied with his work, and he had already started making friends in the marketplace and the surrounding area who could be willing to help if there was a threat of trouble. He was also finding out about the royal family. He would definitely be needing the full three months to figure everything out.

Chapter Text

Aladdin slipped through the crowds. Three months was almost up and he wasn’t completely sure what to think of Agrabah. There were two sets of guards: one the Sultan’s and the other that he wasn’t sure of. The uniforms were similar enough, but there were just enough consistent differences that they were clearly answering ultimately to two different people. The palace didn’t lack for riches as a shipment of imported silks and fruits attested. But . . .

His stomach growled. Agrabah was bordering on a bad city. He could scrape by, but women and children had it far harder. He leaned against a wall before giving Abu a date from the bag he had managed to barter from Zulla.

Two gold pieces had been nimbly exchanged for a gold necklace, but the jewelry that should have gotten him two to three bags of dates . . . He released a breath. Even the potential merchants for street rats weren’t reliable.

A child’s gaze drew his attention down. A boy younger than Dhandi looked up at him, silently pleading beside his mother and sister.

Abu immediately tucked his date underneath his fez.

Aladdin gave the boy a gentle smile, holding a finger to his lips as he gave his dates to the family. The boy’s smile as the disguised prince slipped away made the impending reprimand for his malnourishment worth it.

Besides, he still had a few coins left that he could use to filch for bread or apples later. That was better than some could say. He winced as he recalled the number of coins he still had. He’d have to check the moon’s phase tonight. If it was more than a week before the full moon he’d have to tighten his belt further.

He walked through the market, looking for something to eat. He paused when he caught sight of a young woman holding a fig up to the sun with delicate fingers.

She didn’t truly stand out in her white and sheer veil. But there was a subtle grace as she moved and . . . a gold and jade bracelet embraced the lower half of her forearm. It made the necklace he’d traded earlier look like costume jewelry. The woman moved from the fig stand to the bread stall, where two dirty children stood looking longingly at the soft, fresh loaves. She bent to meet their eyes. “Hello. Are you hungry?” her voice gentle and barely hinting at a noble upbringing.

The children nodded even as she kindly touched one’s face.

Her heartbreak sparked in her eyes before she quickly grabbed a loaf for each. “Here,” she said smiling. “Have some bread.”

Aladdin braced himself. Things were about to get interesting.

“Hey!” the apple-seller, Jamal, shouted. “Hey! You steal from my brother!”

“Stealing? No, I-” the woman protested.

Aladdin started forward quickly. He had a feeling that this girl was almost in over her head.

“You pay or I take bracelet,” Jamal said.

“I don’t have any money,” the woman said. The words barely left her lips when Jamal grabbed her arm, trying to wrest the bracelet from her. “Let go of me!” she demanded, more angry than afraid.

Aladdin quickly stepped between the two of them. “Whoa! Hey, take it easy, Jamal,” he said with a smile.

“Kalil steps away from the stall, and this one,” Jamal shook his finger at the woman, “this one steals the bread.”

“Those children were hungry!” the woman protested.

“Hey, let me handle this,” Aladdin said. Jamal caught his shoulder before he could focus on the woman.

“You keep your little street rat nose out of it,” the apple seller warned.

Aladdin turned to the woman. “Do you have any money?” he asked quietly, catching her wrist. He silently undid the bracelet’s clasps. This bracelet was worth at least the bread cart and apple cart both.

“No,” she answered, “but-”

“Hey, trust me,” he said. He met her eyes, brown infused with subtle gold. For a moment he almost got lost. But as the final clasp gave way, he forced himself to return to the matter at hand. He heard her gasp and protest as he turned to Jamal. “Was this what you wanted?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jamal answered, snatching the bracelet and stuffing it into his pocket.

“And an apple for your troubles,” Aladdin said, Jamal never noticing that the disguised prince had swiped three apples from the stand. The first apple went into Jamal’s hand, the second into Jamal’s pocket with two gold pieces as he slipped the bracelet out again, and the third found its way into his satchel. He wouldn’t be going near the market again today after this. He left the pleased Jamal as he dragged the still protesting girl with him.

“No! I am not leaving without my bracelet,” she argued.

“You mean this bracelet?” Aladdin asked, subtly showing her the jewel. “Come on, we need to put some distance between us and him. Abu will show you the way.”

She looked a little unsure as Abu leaped onto her shoulders.

“It’ll be okay,” Aladdin assured her. “I’ll meet you on the other side. Go.”

Just as the woman ran with Abu, Jamal’s voice rose above the market’s bustle. “Aladdin! Thief with Aladdin!”

Aladdin smiled. Things were about to get fun. “Looking for this, Jamal?” he called, holding up the bracelet.

He ran as the guards started to gather. He half-slid into an alley. He raced part way through before using a wagon of wares as a boost to reach a series of poles that crisscrossed the upper half of the alley. He danced through them, pausing only once to see that the guards were sufficiently blocked for the time being. When the poles ran out, he twisted himself to the ground. He turned just as someone accidentally dumped a basket of pink petals over the market. “Abu? Abu,” he called.

The delicate blossom remains fluttered about the woman as Abu left her shoulders. She slowly turned towards him, her veil half-fallen from about her face. Nothing obscured her delicate features and slender neck.

Aladdin stopped as he felt his heart skip a beat. He had seen many beautiful women, nobility and peasant alike. But he now felt that none could compare to the young woman who stood before him now.

~*~*~

Jasmine never would have dreamed that things would go this way. After a week and a half of searching her wardrobe, Dalia had sewn the clothes she now wore, and just this morning Jasmine had managed to escape the palace.

Everything was both familiar and foreign. Aside from the extra guards, Jafar’s guards, and the starving people. Mother never would have allowed this. Especially the children.

Jasmine had not expected to be faced by the irate man who accused her of stealing, and she especially had not expected the appearance and help of the handsome stranger. The monkey, Abu, while cute in its own way, was a little disconcerting. But Abu was actually a good monkey when it came to showing her where to slip away and make it to another side of the market.

She had found herself mesmerized by the falling petals when a familiar voice called for the monkey. She turned and watched as Abu scrambled up to the young man’s shoulders. For the first time, she really looked at him. Some of his dark hair fell over his forehead. His eyes though kind and bright were dark like the sea on a moonless night. And he was currently looking at her as though he had just found the greatest treasure. Before she had opportunity to blush, he stumbled over a small pot.

She jumped a little unsure what to do even as he turned and apologized to the owner of the pot. As she and the stranger started walking together through the stalls, she felt the need to defend herself. She didn’t want him to think the worst of her. “To clarify,” she said, “I wasn’t stealing and those children were hungry and I-”

“That’s called stealing,” the man said quietly, carefully maneuvering the both of them through the narrower streets. “And if you’re caught, you’ll spend three weeks in the stocks.”

“Stocks?” Jasmine murmured. Just then, they passed what could only be described as a prison post. A man stood shackled to the wooden beam and a two-piece slab of board leaned against the nearby building. A chill of horror ran through her as she noted the three small holes spaced out on the board.

“Omar was released just yesterday,” the young man said. “He was nearly skin and bones.”

“Um, how much trouble are we in?” Jasmine asked. She was starting to feel a bit nervous about her impulsive actions.

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught,” her guide answered.

Then someone far behind them shouted. “Stop! Thief with Aladdin!”

Jasmine looked about as everyone surrounding them stood still as statues, staring at her and the man with her.

“Oo, that’s you,” the man said with a wince.

“Me?”  She never thought she’d be labeled a thief. And here she was with the “title” of “Thief with Aladdin.”  Was that the young man’s name?

“See you on the other side,” he said, pointing through a door. Beyond the opening were huge vats of something that people were stirring. Cloth dyeing perhaps? “Now,” he stressed, interrupting her thoughts.

“Oh!”  She jumped before racing through the doorway and among the vats to what she hoped was a good hiding place. At least until she could take a further cue from her current protector.

~*~*~

Aladdin shook his head a little as he quickly mapped out his escape route. That woman had to be from the palace. One of the upper servants at least. He’d figure it out later when he had the freedom to do so. He made brief eye contact with a person closing their window. It was fortunate that he was good at making friends.

He jogged up the stairs barely pausing to knock on the shutter before continuing his dash. He held back a chuckle as he heard the guard get smacked. He could already tell that these were not the Sultan’s guards, so he didn’t feel near as bad giving them the slip. They were far more crueler, treating most like dirt or less.

He swung himself from a platform over the dye merchants, sliding down a stout pole. He nodded at some of the workers who handled the colored powders. He spied the woman, reached out for her as a signal to follow. “Come on!”  He raced over the vats as his new friend scrambled after him as best she could. He grinned as he caught sight of her nervous but excited smile. At least he wasn’t the only one who found the chase fun.

As they entered a less crowded area, he could make out the guards’ shouts. “Riffraff!” “Street rat!” “Scoundrel!”

“Into that alley,” Aladdin said, pointing to the doorway opposite where the guards were coming from. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

The woman nodded, running to the entryway.

He turned, just as the guards raced in. He grabbed a nearby knife as he stepped onto the lowered platform of a large scale. “You guys should really try different tactics,” he taunted, slicing a rope. The goods attached to the other end fell down and catapulted him up to the balcony above.

“Rip him open!” one of the guards shouted in anger.

“Round the back, men! Don’t let him get away!” the leader, Razoul, ordered.

Aladdin grinned broadly. Good, their main focus was him, no longer the woman from the palace. “Yeah, I can take a hint,” he taunted Razoul. “I could really use a friend or two around here.”  He leaned back against the wall, waiting for Razoul’s return taunt. But if it came he never heard it because Aladdin found himself tumbling back through a door.

Please, not the brothel. Please, not the brothel, he silently pleaded. He’d made that mistake once during a chase and he did not wish that to happen again. Why he hadn’t taken note of its exact location in order to avoid it, he couldn’t recall. Unless it was his mind’s way of erasing it completely from his mind.

He almost breathed easier as he spied a teacher’s board on the wall across from where he’d stopped. But then he saw all the young girls looking at him with their childish awe. Thankfully, all modestly dressed young girls.

“Oh, it’s Aladdin,” one whisper-giggled to a friend.

“Too bad he’s so poor,” another whispered.

“Good day, ladies,” Aladdin said, standing.

“Baba says that he’s become a one man rise in crime,” yet another girl tittered.

Aladdin’s attention was quickly diverted when he saw the irate school teacher approaching. “Good day, good mother,” he greeted politely if nervously.

The older woman brandished her pointer/switch at him. “I’d blame your parents for your upbringing if you but had them,” she said.

“My mother actually raised me pretty well I think,” Aladdin said. He jerked away, barely avoiding the switch. “But gotta eat to live, and have to steal in order to do that.”  He avoided the second strike. He almost got caught as a guard ran in. “I’ll tell you all about it when I’ve got the time,” he said, hurrying over to a window. Two canopies staggered on either side of the alleyway below. Perfect.

He leaped out, causing the guard immediately behind him to fall straight down. Aladdin felt the canopy he’d landed on bounce him back. He slid along the back of a second guard who was looking down at the first. He gained his feet and stayed at the guard’s back as he spun round. Aladdin wracked his brain for how to get out of this. Ah, diversion. He spun on his toes and grabbed the keys hanging from the guard’s belt. He continued the little dance until he could hop onto the window sill. “Missing something?” Aladdin dangled the keys before the guard’s eyes.

The guard grabbed the keys, momentarily forgetting about the street rat. Just enough time for Aladdin to hop out and tumble down from canopy to canopy to wagon of rolled rugs to the ground. He grinned up at the woman waiting for him.

She shook her head like anyone would at a crazy friend. “There are stairs, you know,” she said, laughter flavoring her voice.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Aladdin asked, pulling himself up and grabbing her hand as he led them on their way again. As much as he enjoyed the thrill of the chase, he was going to have to figure out a way to bring this to an end. They would have to disappear somewhere. At the alley’s end, he held his hand out as another acquaintance drove by on his cart.

The man barely nodded.

Aladdin caught hold of the back of the wagon and swung both him and the woman up onto the ledge.

She gave a surprised cry almost immediately followed by a small laugh. “Think you could warn me before you do something like that?” she asked.

“If I can,” he answered, looking ahead. Yeah, more guards were starting to join the chase. Definitely time to wrap things up so that they could get to his hideaway. He swung round behind his companion. “How about a quick stroll round the next block?” he suggested.

Her quick glance between him and the moving ground below them was enough hint that she could guess what he planned.

He grabbed her by the waist before they leaped off. He kept his grip until she found her feet again. Together, they raced through another alley, the guards quickly gaining on them.

“Stop, thief!” the guards shouted. They were too close.

Aladdin caught a loose beam and knocked it across their pathway.

“Vandal!” someone shouted.

“Abu!” Aladdin called, spying his monkey trying to steal some fruit. He directed his new friend up some stairs past a fruit seller who was admittedly a very good friend. He followed a few steps behind. When had the guards started picking up speed?

He cried out as a firm motherly hand dragged him up and behind. “Get moving, Aladdin,” the matronly woman ordered. “And take a melon. You’re getting to be skin and bones. It’s a wonder you’ve run this far across the markets.”

“Thanks, Oma,” Aladdin said, claiming a melon from her basket and slipping it into his bag. “You’re too good to me.”

She eyed him over her shoulder. “And don’t you forget it, street boy. And none of that slipping gold to me,” she added in a lower voice. “It’s a gift, not a ‘steal.’”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aladdin said with a grin. Of all the friends he’d made in Agrabah, Oma was probably the one who very nearly saw through his act. Maybe it was because despite her rough edges and occasionally gruff manner, she reminded him of his mother.

“Now you and your lady friend get out of here, I’ll handle the guards.”

Aladdin nodded with a smile, turning to see his “lady friend” watching him with a raised eyebrow. “She half-adopted me,” he explained as he passed her. “Come on.”

Two guards got smart and tried to gain the house roof from a scaffolding.

“Not today,” Aladdin said, kicking the wooden structure away from the roof edge. He gave a quick wave before the guards landed on a canopy of drying petals. He ran to a wooden crane. It was just long enough that once swung round a little bit, he could make the house on the other side of the road with little trouble. The pole leaning against the outer wall would work for the woman. He really needed to get her name.

“Together on three,” he said, pulling himself up on the crane.

“Together on three?” she asked.

“We jump,” he answered.

She whirled, shock and fear widening her eyes. “We jump!?”

He had to get her out of here. She would be lucky to last a day in the stocks. He pushed that fear aside to smile at her and try to lighten the tense situation. “Why are you repeating everything I say? The pole,” he pointed.

She lined up with the pole, looking nervous.

“One. Two. Three!”  Aladdin raced forward, vaguely aware of the woman running beside him. He jumped off the end and tumbled into a short roll to absorb the impact on the roof. He half-expected to see the pole still settling above him, his new friend gasping in relieved laughter on the level above him. But that wasn’t the case. He looked across the way.

She stood, clutching the pole. “I’m sorry,” she called.

The guards were shouting to each other, following orders to get onto the roof where she was.

He was powerless to help her. She had to jump. It was the only way. He scrambled up to where he was almost level with her, give her a place to focus. “Look at me,” he said, just loud enough to catch her attention. “Look at me. You can do this.”

The fear left her face, determination settling in. She backed up, just as two guards scrambled onto the roof. She raced forward, desperation fueling her. She grabbed the pole and with a scream flew over the street. The pole jerked just short of the upper level, dropping her into his lap, nearly driving his breath out of him.

He felt his ears turning red. It was one thing to hold Dhandi on his lap. This was another thing altogether. It was some small comfort that she wasn’t comfortable with the situation either. “Nicely done,” he said as she scrambled off and to the roof.

“Thank you,” she said, catching her breath.

There was now sufficient distance between them. Now how to completely throw them off? He grinned as he spotted what he needed just the next roof over. He ran over, the woman just behind him and Abu rejoining them. “Hide behind those crates,” he said, pointing over to the side. She disappeared behind them before the guards were within sight again. As he picked up a large, heavy rug, Abu held out an anchored rope. Aladdin nodded, taking the rope, allowing the monkey to run and hide as well.

As he heard the guards approaching he ran to the roof edge and leaped off. As he dropped, he threw the carpet down onto the wooden lean-to below him. The carpet crashed through just as he planned as the rope safely deposited him through the window directly below.

He dropped to the floor of the empty room, listening to the shouts from below and the steps of the guards above. He breathed deeply, allowing a moment of rest. But only a moment. He had to get back up there and get the three of them safely to his place. Oma was right. It was a wonder he’d kept up the chase that long. Satisfied that the guards had left, Aladdin started to climb back up to the roof.

As his arm latched over the edge of the roof, he heard the woman gasp. Abu started chattering excitedly as Aladdin pulled himself up. He smiled as he caught sight of the woman.

She shook her head in exasperation, as though saying, “Don’t you know how you worried me?”  Then she straightened, composing herself with a small smile.

“Come on,” Aladdin said. “I know where we’ll be safe.”

“Do you need help up or will I need help down?” she asked.

“A bit of a hand up,” Aladdin answered.

She hurried over and helped him up and over the edge. “Are you alright?” she asked as he caught his breath.

Before he could answer his stomach growled. He wished he could shrivel up with embarrassment.

“You’re hungry,” she said. “Should I get some bread for you?”  But there was a twinkle in her eye to hint she was teasing.

“No, I’ve got a melon and apple in my bag,” Aladdin answered.

“Then don’t starve on my account,” she said. “I won’t be offended.”

“Thank you,” Aladdin said. He stood to his feet, even as he pulled out the apple and a dull paring knife. He cut out a slice and offered it to her. “You did good, but we still have a ways to go yet.”

She smiled a blush darkening her cheeks as she accepted the slice. “Thank you,” she said.

Aladdin cut a second slice to keep Abu happy, before tucking the knife away and taking a large bite from the apple. He fought back a moan of pleasure as the sweet tartness enveloped his tongue and the juices dribbled to his chin and wet his throat.

“You haven’t eaten in a while,” the woman noted, her slice revealing she’d only taken a delicate bite.

He shook his head, chewing and swallowing before he answered. “It’s been a couple days since I’ve had a decent solid meal. Even longer since I had one of Jamal’s apples. He may watch his stall like a hawk, but when you can actually get one or two of his apples, they are the best in the world.”  He led them safely down off the roof, sneaking another bite of apple along the way.

“So, how far away exactly?” the woman asked, before putting her last bite of apple in her mouth.

“We’ll be heading towards the palace,” Aladdin answered. “Where we’re headed is maybe a fifteen to twenty-minute walk away from there.”

“So it’s a good distance,” she said.

Aladdin nodded. “We’ll be taking as many alleyways as we can and trying to blend in.”  He took another bite of apple. It would definitely take awhile seeing as he wanted to avoid the guards as much as possible now. But if they survived the first part of the escape, they would survive the rest.

Chapter Text

In a shadowed tower, a man in rich, dark robes paced among the clutter. Books of magic and arcane arts sat piled in certain orders. Scrolls and scraps of parchment peeked out from among the tomes and shadows. Maps stood stored in ceramic jars. A book lay open upon a podium, showing a sand dune with the rough image of a tiger’s face in it.

A great, spiraling sphere of many rings, holding orbs of planets in the center, commandeered most of the room. The central planet was dark, a swirling cloud softly glowing within its core.

A red and blue parrot flew through a window to land on its perch with hardly a squawk.

Jafar studied the spell, ensured he had everything right. “I ask the Sands of Time to reveal your secrets to me,” he intoned, “to show me the one who can retrieve the lamp.”

He could hear the ancient voices whispering, he could feel the magic gathering, but all in vain. The spell collapsed upon itself, dispersing in so much dust and smoke.

He fought to control his anger as he stood before his armillary sphere in the face of yet another failed attempt. “Smoke screens and slight of hand. Alchemist tricks. I need real power. I need the lamp!”

“Seek out the Diamond in the Rough,” Iago squawked.

“But where?” Jafar asked. “Where will I find him?”  He snapped the spell book closed. The incident in the dungeons earlier still rankled him.

There had been two prisoners, two possible candidates. Both were rough, but neither was a diamond. They were locked up, and despite the man’s incompetence in finding the suitable candidate, Jafar was willing to allow him another chance. But then he had done the unforgivable.

“You are already second to the Sultan,” he had said.

“And you think second is enough?” Jafar had asked.

“Of course,” the simple-minded man had said. “You were not born to be sultan.”

That sniveling, little man was now no more. Just another tally to be added to the other bodies he had buried on his rise to the top. Not that he kept an actual count. Aside from one, the first step in making Shehrabad pay for those five years they imprisoned him. For nearly fifteen years, he had sacrificed. Determined to make all those who underestimated him pay for what they did.

He was nearing the mark of his thirty-fifth year. He was determined by that time to have Agrabah under his rule and Shehrabad nothing more than a memory and pile of ash. He had yet to decide on a fitting punishment for the Sultan and the half-Shehrabad mouse. But he would find it. And it would be perfect, a warning to all not to cross him nor underestimate him ever again. He would prove himself to be the most powerful man in the room. He was nothing without that ultimate power. Nothing.

Chapter Text

Aladdin breathed a little easier as they entered his alley. He climbed a couple buckets to reach the rope.

“Um, where are we?” the woman asked.

Aladdin smiled. It was meant to look like a dead end. “You’ll see,” he said. He stepped into the loop in the rope’s end. His weight pulled down the hidden lever that moved the gears that pushed out the previously concealed beams. They locked in place as a narrow stair.

The woman gasped, eyes wide with wonder. “Is this, is this where you live?”  She scampered up, barely waiting for Aladdin to follow.

“Yep, just me and Abu,” he answered, following after her. “Come and go as we please.”  Inside he led the way to the crumbling but sturdy minaret.

As they finally stepped into the rundown room, he said, “Welcome to my humble –” He paused. It didn’t look real good. Why did he feel the need to impress her? He’d never felt uncomfortable about showing his homes away from home before. “You’ll see.”  He turned a lever, lowering a rough cage of broken masonry which in turn raised the worn, tattered red canopy into a roof over most of the room.

She laughed in awe, removing her veil. “You are quite the magician,” she said walking beneath it. Reflected bits of colored light played across her back and waist-length, black braid.

“Thank you,” he said. When was the last time someone actually liked what he had done? Honestly liked it? He looked to Abu, but the monkey was no help, settling down to rest. Shaking his head, he tried to quickly straighten some things up.

The woman was at the opposite balcony, looking over the city. “I can’t believe . . .” she started, her soft words carrying to his ears.

“What?” he asked. Ah, tea! He should make her some tea.

She turned, awed amazement, mixed with disbelief on her face. “I can’t believe we did that. That I did that. That we’re alive. With the chase. Jumping buildings.”

Aladdin smiled as she continued rambling, wandering about the tower room. “Abu? Tea?” he asked quietly.

Abu only stretched and scratched himself.

Aladdin half shook his head before turning to his guest. “Tea?”

“It was incredible,” she murmured before answering. “Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there – Aladdin, isn’t it.”

“Uh, you’re welcome . . .”

“Oh, I, I’m Dalia,” she answered. Almost as though she’d never expected someone to ask for her name.

“Dalia . . . from the palace,” Aladdin said.

She froze, her eyes widening. “How could you tell?”

“Well,” Aladdin said with a shrug as he started the tea, “only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that. And that silk lining in your dress is imported too. It goes straight from the merchant boats to the palace, but not to servants.”  Completely unfamiliar with the market and how things worked. High quality garments and a custom-made jewel. “At least not most servants. Which means that you–” She could be the princess herself . . . but now wouldn’t be the time or place to reveal that he knew if that was the case. “–are a handmaid to the princess.”

She turned back around from facing away from him. “Impressive,” she said, somewhat guarded.

“If you think that’s impressive, you should see the city from up there,” he said, gesturing up to the landing behind her. He smiled as she ran up the stairs to look out over the city and distant palace.

“Agrabah,” she murmured. “It’s so beautiful.”  She paused. “I should get out more.”

Aladdin decided to test the waters. Try to get a feel as to why the kingdom was in the shape it was in. “You should tell the princess to get out more. The people haven’t seen her in years.”

“They won’t let her,” Dalia said. “Ever since my– The queen was killed the sultan has been afraid, so she’s kept locked away.”

“Seems everyone’s been afraid since then,” he said, recalling the murmurs and whispers he’d caught over the past three months. “But the people of Agrabah had nothing to do with that.”  He’d personally seen to that much. Upon discovering the late queen had been murdered within her own city, he had ventured into the darkest corners, talked with those of the darkest hearts, those who knew of even darker hearts. Even those who were heartless grieved the queen’s passing and vowed vengeance upon whoever had murdered her. “The people loved her.”

Dalia turned, smiling if a bit sad. “They did, didn’t they?” she said. She knocked over the lute.

Aladdin winced a little. He should have brought that back down this morning.

Dalia picked it up. “Is this yours?”

“Kind of,” he answered. “It belonged to my mother.”  He turned to finish the tea. He stilled as he heard a familiar tune glide from behind him. He turned to see Dalia playing the lute, playing “Desert Moon.”

“Your mother wished that “Desert Moon” would guide you to your bride,” Khaleel’s words from shortly after Mother’s death rang through his mind.

It hadn’t been the literal moon she’d meant. It had been the song. Aladdin wasn’t sure how he knew. He just knew. Oh, please, let her be the princess and not a handmaid, he silently prayed, desperately. I’ll love her either way. I love her already. But I would rather not have to fight my viziers and the nobles in order to have my bride.

“My mother taught me that song,” he said, trying to break the spell.

She looked at him. “Mine too.”

“One of my best memories of her.”  He turned back to the tea.

“And your father?” she asked, setting the lute down.

“He disappeared when I was young,” Aladdin answered. “Some say that part of what caused my mother’s death was a broken heart.”  He mounted the stairs with the tea, handing a glass to her. “It’s alright, it’s just–”

“What?” she asked, so concerned, worried.

He had to reestablish his street rat role. He couldn’t let it slip just yet. “It’s a little sad,” he answered. “Having a monkey as the only parental authority in your life.”

She chuckled, just as he’d hoped.

“We get by,” he said as she sipped her tea. “Every day I think things will be different, but it never seems to change.”  A little too real, even as a prince. Yes, his escapes as a street rat kept things interesting, but he missed having a real reason to return to the palace other than royal duty. “Just sometimes I feel as though I’m . . .”  How could he–?

“Trapped,” Dalia said. “Like you can’t escape what you were born into.”

“Yes,” Aladdin said. He would surrender his kingdom for this girl. His mind called him crazy and foolish, even a traitor to his people. But his heart didn’t wish to hear any of it. He was getting lost in her eyes again. Thankfully there was a good foot or two between them.

The moment was broken as a great horn heralded a grand ship sailing into harbor. The golden crest on the blue-green sails was that of Skanland, if Aladdin recalled his lessons right. He couldn’t explain why his blood suddenly boiled at the thought that the overdressed, dim-witted Prince Anders might try to win his princess’s heart. That is . . . if Dalia was truly the princess. This not knowing was going to drive him mad.

Dalia quickly turned to him. “I have to get back to the palace,” she said. She hurried past him, giving him back the tea glass.

“Uh, now?”  Aladdin could have bitten his tongue. Seriously? Did he say that? Well, probably better than saying anything about the pompous prince. That would definitely blow his cover.

“Yes, now,” she said, hurriedly fixing her veil back on. “What’s the quickest way to the palace?”

“I’ll show you,” he said. He quickly set the tea glasses back on the cabinet’s counter before leading the way out. As much as he would have liked to delay it, he took her the quickest way. As they neared the palace gates, Prince Anders’s parade came by, actually one of the smallest parades Aladdin had ever seen, not including the poorly concealed gift of cannons. “It’s just another prince coming to court the princess,” he said.

“Yes,” Dalia said, “and I have to get her ready.”  She almost turned into the crowd then seemed to remember something. “Oh, do you have my bracelet?”

“Sure.”  Aladdin reached into his pockets, not recalling which he’d put it in. His brow furrowed as his fingers found only cloth. He searched the others. Dread started to coil in his stomach. No. It had to be here somewhere. He mumbled something, he wasn’t sure what as he kept searching. Finally he turned to Abu behind him. “Abu, did you take it?”

“That was my mother’s bracelet,” Dalia said, a quiet, heartbroken anger stirring in her eyes.

Aladdin tried to salvage the situation, buy time. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“You are a thief,” she said. “I was so naive.”  She turned, disappearing into the crowd.

“No! Dalia! It’s nothing like that!” Aladdin shouted after her. He groaned. “Great.”

He turned just in time to see a spooked horse rear up over a child. The girl screamed even as Aladdin darted forward and swept her up and out of the way. He glared defiantly up at the guard riding the horse.

“Street rat! Get out of the way!” the guard ordered.

“Who are you calling a street rat?” the prince challenged.

“Are you talking back to me?” the guard countered. “You were born worthless, and you will die worthless. And only your fleas will mourn you.”

The words slammed into him like a ton of bricks. He’d heard worse but it still hurt every time. And not just for him, knowing that was how the speaker felt towards all those beneath him. He tried to remain defiant as the guard rode away.

Prince Anders rumbled by in his enclosed carriage, shielding him from the people of the princess he wished to court.

Aladdin’s heart twisted. What if the princess did not view her people kindly? What if Dalia really was just a handmaid and not the princess? He escaped into the crowds, returning to his rundown minaret. In the relative safety of his refuge, he allowed his mind to wander.

The guard’s words echoed in his ears, the insults hurled at him earlier. Riffraff. Scoundrel. Street rat. He knew that it was because that was what they were shown. He wore nothing to contradict that view of him. None looked beyond the surface, aside from a few like Oma. Playing a street rat certainly kept one humble and was not for the faint of heart.

He sighed as he looked about his home before sitting before a window half-created by age. He knew that within the fortnight, he would be traveling these same streets in a parade that would put all others before it to shame. Simply because Khaleel would settle for nothing less. Prince Ali would be welcomed and honored by the same people who currently scoffed and ridiculed him.

As Khaleel liked to say, “People see what they want to see.”  And right now, people only saw him as a poorly dressed street rat, never dreaming that a prince would lower himself that far.

Aladdin looked up when Abu slid down one of the torn drapings an all too familiar bracelet in his notorious sticky paw. He quietly groaned. Sometimes the monkey was a blessing and other times a curse. “Abu,” he said, taking the bracelet, “there is a time when we do ‘steal’ and a time we don’t. This was definitely a don’t.”

The little monkey cringed at the light scolding before scampering back up.

Aladdin looked at the bracelet. He had ruined it with Dalia, all because of his monkey. A plan started to form. If he could only return the bracelet, everything would be alright. It would also provide the perfect opportunity to discover the true nature of the princess, whether or not Dalia was actually the princess.

He looked over towards the palace. He’d snuck in and out of his palace in Ababwa dozens if not hundreds of times. He would have to wait until dark, and he’d have to improvise a bit more than he usually felt comfortable with. But, he had to find answers. And this bracelet gave him the perfect excuse.

Chapter Text

Jasmine rushed through the corridors, half-cursing the tightly laced bodice that this particular gown required. She had just barely made it in time. She was certain that she was already late in greeting the visiting prince.

Dalia ran beside her, a basket in her hands for last minute fixes once they reached the receiving hall’s doors. “What made you so late?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice low.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jasmine promised. They came to a near sliding halt before the doors. The princess straightened her skirts, lightly brushing them off as her friend smoothed back her upswept hair and ensured all her jewels were straightened.

“Your mother’s bracelet,” Dalia said, worried. “We must have forgotten it–”

“Not forgotten, Dalia,” Jasmine said, barely stopping her friend running back to her chambers. “It’s part of what I have to tell you.”  She took a deep breath. “For now, I have a prince to meet and see if perhaps he is any different from the others.”  But her heart she feared was no longer hers to give. The bracelet wasn’t the only thing stolen by the thief Aladdin.

“There,” Dalia said, fixing the final coin so it hung down like the rest. She moved to the side, giving the basket to a waiting servant.

Jasmine took a deep breath and slowly released it. She faintly heard Baba greeting Prince Anders and asking after his journey. She nodded to the door attendants. They swung the doors inward. Jasmine on instinct reached over to touch Mother’s bracelet to grant her courage. But it was gone, gone forever because she had been naive enough to trust a thief.

She pushed it aside and stepped forward. She studied the awestruck prince as she descended the stairs. He was fair-skinned from living in cooler climes. She could barely see his pale gold hair beneath his tall, fur hat. She couldn’t imagine him being comfortable in all the fur-lined robes he wore. He was clean-shaven, showing off his strong jawline and high cheekbones. At least in appearances, she could do worse. One thing in his favor, he actually appeared to be about her age, unlike some like Prince Achmed who looked to be at least twice her age.

But she couldn’t help comparing him to the thief in the markets. Aladdin had clearly lived under the desert sun his whole life, his skin lightly kissed into a healthy tan. His black hair almost fell across his forehead, but nothing could hide the warm, dark brown eyes. His smile was broad and full of life. Yes, she had caught him admiring her, but there was a respect in his gaze. And, after she played the lute . . . there was something else there also.

She mentally shook herself, forcing herself back to the present. Aladdin was a clever, cunning thief. She should never think of him again, no matter how her heart started rapping against her ribcage. Stop it! she ordered herself. If nothing else, she couldn’t afford to make a fool of herself before the visiting prince. Even if her definition of such was different from say Jafar’s or Baba’s.

“Prince Anders,” Baba said, “my daughter, Princess Jasmine.”

Jasmine stopped beside her father, her tiger, Rajah, moving to stand to her left as Dalia stood behind her at her right.

“So, why did no one tell me of your beauty?” Prince Anders asked, his voice thickly accented.

“No one mentioned yours either,” Jasmine said dryly.

“Thank you,” Prince Anders answered, clearly missing the slight barb. “They say that in Skanland. Yeah, right?”  He chuckled, looking to his men behind him, and as if he had granted his permission, they all started laughing somewhat stiffly. Prince Anders laughed harder, unnecessarily. “Very, very amusing.”

“Isn’t it?” Jasmine returned pleasantly. “We use the same titles but are never described the same way.”

Prince Anders stared, blinking as though he’d never thought deeply before in his life. Apparently while he got some blessed appearances, his mind had suffered.

“Jasmine,” Baba softly reprimanded.

Jasmine sighed, momentarily casting her eyes downward. At least it hadn’t been Jafar this time, even if she could still feel his distinct disapproval.

“Ja,” Prince Anders finally said. Then his attention was diverted. “What is that?” he asked, gesturing to Rajah.

Jasmine looked over at the visiting prince. He couldn’t be serious. He’d never even heard of a tiger before?

“No, don’t tell me,” Prince Anders said, grinning, pleased with himself. “It’s a cat with stripes.”

He was serious. Oh, Jasmine prayed that she did not need to spend any visiting time alone with him. She would be bored to tears before five minutes passed.

“He likes you,” Iago, Jafar’s parrot, squawked.

“I know,” Prince Anders said. “Because is Skanland, cats love me. Hey, puss-puss.”  He leaned down, waving his tasseled staff towards Rajah’s face. “Hey, puss-puss.”

Rajah lashed out with a growl, nearly stealing the staff. He did however manage to startle Prince Anders to the floor with a scream. Indeed. Cats love him. They must want to eat him then.

“Rajah,” Jasmine said, touching her tiger’s head, calming him. Oh, she would have loved nothing better than to let her amusement show, maybe even praise Rajah for bringing the prince down a peg or two. But that couldn’t happen here, not when she was supposed to be a proper princess.

“Prince Anders,” Baba said as the prince recovered himself. “We were told that you brought us a special gift from your homeland.”

“Yes, yes! This way, please.”  Prince Anders whirled about, leading them out to the upper courtyard and the balcony that overlooked the city and harbor.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow at the poorly concealed cannon and brass cannonballs. She could only begin to imagine the reasoning behind such a gift. It was clearly more for her father than any of her interests.

“Can you guess what it is?” Prince Anders asked, hopping up and down like a little boy excited about a new plaything. He actually thought that they couldn’t tell what it was immediately.

Very well, two could play at this game. Or maybe even three. “Oh, um, Dalia is good at this game,” she said.

Dalia nodded as she caught onto Jasmine’s thoughts. If Prince Anders wished to have silly women with silly notions, that was what he would receive. “Yes, what could it be? Is it a giraffe?” Dalia asked. At each denial, she offered another possibility. “Is it a male cow? Is it a female cow? Is it a gaggle of geese? So it is not a gaggle?”

“Oh, you naughty girls, you lied. You are not good at this game,” Prince Anders said, highly amused. He tossed his tasseled stick to a servant before going over to grab the sheet that covered the cannon. He waited until Jasmine raised her eyebrows and then with a flurry of cloth, whipped the covering away to reveal a large brass cannon. It was set onto a wooden, wheeled structure and framed by two brass, charging bulls. “Surprise!” Prince Anders cried.

“Oh, it’s a cannon,” Jasmine said to Dalia.

“It’s a cannon,” her friend returned with a smile.

“In Skanland everything we make is very sleek and minimal,” Prince Anders said.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. If this was “sleek and minimal” she’d hate to see otherwise. “Oh, it’s very impressive,” she said. “But, we are a humble people, Prince Anders. Unimpressed with the gift as much as the sentiment behind it.”

“Sentiments,” the prince floundered. “It’s for . . .”

“Your desire for war?” Jasmine asked.

“No!” Prince Anders answered in disbelief. “It’s just a very big gun.”  He looked so pleased with himself, like a boy playing with toy soldiers.

Jafar stepped in, quite unwanted, “Our princess fails to understand that no man desires war, but a ruler must prepare for it nonetheless.”

“Ja, whatever that means,” Prince Anders said. Oh, there was no possible way. Jasmine would feel as though she was constantly in the presence of a child who needed schooling. She’d wither away into nothing before their first anniversary.

“The princess also wonders,” Jasmine said pointedly, “if in preparing for this war, you induce the very conflict you seek to avoid.”

“No, no, my dear,” Baba murmured.

“Ah, the princess has read something about statecraft,” Jafar said, granting a demeaning, obliging smile.

“The princess,” Baba said, turning to the prince, “is delighted to receive your gift, Prince Anders. As are we. Please.”

“Yes! Yes. We will target that boat over there,” Prince Anders said with a hop, pointing into the harbor. “The one with the cross-hairs. Drum roll, please!”  As a couple soldiers drummed, Prince Anders accepted a line attached to the trigger. “Prepare yourselves! It is very loud.”

Jasmine backed away with Baba and Dalia, sticking her fingers in her ears as she saw several of the Skanlanders doing the same. The cannon exploded, shooting back from the force of firing. She waved the resulting smoke away, trying to keep from choking.

“I hit!” Prince Anders shouted, celebrating like a child.

“Very impressive, Prince Anders,” Baba said as Jasmine walked forward to see the results of the cannon firing.

“Yeah,” Prince Anders answered, “it is a very good design.”  With pride he touched the oversized barrel. Even Jasmine knew not to do something like that.

She looked out into the harbor. She fought to keep her slight amusement in check. “Tell me, Prince Anders, which boat were you trying to hit?”

“That one over there,” he answered pointing.

“So, not the one with the target on it,” Jasmine said, tilting her head to the side. “Isn’t the one sinking your boat?”  Yes. She was completely and totally unimpressed with this prince. Even without a troublesome market boy invading her thoughts.

~*~*~

Jafar paced the Sultan’s study. Of course that half-Shehrabad mouse couldn’t remember her place, remain silent and accept Prince Anders. And worse, the Sultan allowed her. “My sultan, our enemies grow stronger every day,” he said, “yet you allow your daughter to dismiss Prince Anders and a possible military alliance.”

“What enemies?” the sultan asked seated behind his desk. Of course he wouldn’t believe that there were enemies. He certainly wouldn’t suspect Shehrabad. Not as Jafar would wish him to.

“Shehrabad continues to amass,” Jafar answered.

“Shehrabad is our ally.”

“Was our ally.”  If he could just cast enough doubt in the sultan’s mind. It could be argued that their alliance was shaky since the death of the queen. Whether true or not, the sultan did not need to know. The kingdom needed to pay for those five years they’d left him to rot in their prisons.

“You would drag us into war with our oldest–”

“And you would allow your kingdom to sink into ruin for mere sentiment!”

“Jafar!” the sultan exploded.

Jafar stepped back. This was not how he would get his way, not now. But there was another way.

“Remember your place,” the sultan warned.

Rage boiled up in him. How dare he–? But he must play the part of a humble, loyal servant. “I apologize. Forgive me, my sultan,” he said calmly, making as though to leave. “I went too far.”  He stopped before the door. No one would see what he was about to do once he turned. He would make the sultan see things his way. He turned back to the Sultan. “But,” he said, summoning the hypnotic power of the cobra through his staff, “if you would only reconsider, I think you would see that invading Shehrabad is the right thing to do.”

From the first words he spoke, the sultan was enthralled by his spell. Shehrabad would be set upon before the week was past. The sultan would lead the troops himself, be killed by his “beloved allies.”  The half-breed princess would be his to claim, his to silence as he sat upon the throne.

Slow and laborious, the words fell from the sultan’s lips. “Invading Shehrabad is–”

“Invade Shehrabad?”

~*~*~

Jasmine looked between Baba and Jafar, shocked and horrified as she stepped into her father’s study. She had come to share with Baba the disturbing state Agrabah’s citizens were in. To hear talk of invading Shehrabad momentarily pushed those thoughts to the side. “Why would we invade Mother’s kingdom?” she asked, glaring at the vizier.

“We would never invade Shehrabad,” Baba said.

“But an ally in Skanland would improve our situation,” Jafar said.

“Yes,” Baba said. “If you would consider giving Prince Anders a chance.”

“To rule?” Jasmine asked. She rolled her eyes. “Baba, Rajah would make a better ruler.”

“My dear, I’m not getting any younger,” Baba said. “We must find you a husband, and,” he chuckled, “we are running out of kingdoms.”

Jasmine pleaded her case. “What foreign prince could care for our people as I do?” she asked. “I could lead, if only–”

“My dear, you cannot be sultan,” Baba said, “because it has never been done in the thousand-year history of our kingdom.”

Jasmine fought to keep her emotions in check. Every time. Every time the past was brought up. But just because it had never been done before didn’t mean it was forbidden. “I have been preparing for this my whole life. I have read every–”

“Books!” Jafar interrupted. “But you cannot read experience. Inexperience is dangerous. People left unchecked will revolt. Walls and borders unguarded will be attacked.”

“Jafar is right,” Baba said. “One day, you will understand.”

Jasmine felt her heart cracking, felt yet another sting of betrayal. Her eyes burned and stung. Perhaps if Baba was alone, she could properly speak with him, speak of her concerns for their people. But Jafar stood there with his smug smile, seeming to wrap Baba around his fear whisperings and conspiracies.

“You may leave now,” Baba said.

Jasmine turned and left swiftly. She hurried to a place just out of earshot of Baba’s study. Resting against another doorframe, she fought against the sobs confined in her gown’s corset. She wanted nothing more than to rule, to do everything she could to bring her people happiness. She wanted the best for her people, and she had yet to meet any suitor who would share her love for her people.

She stiffened, reining her emotions in as she half-sensed, half-heard someone behind her.

“Life will be kinder to you, Princess,” Jafar’s smooth words flowed over her like spoiled oil, “once you accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen and not heard.”

She could almost feel his breath upon her neck when Rajah growled, warning him away.  She heard him retreat, allowing her a little more freedom to release her emotions. She continued on to her room. She needed space. She needed air. She longed for Mother.

Safely in her rooms, she shut the door. Her gaze wandered about, looking at her maps and books. The testaments of what she had dedicated the vast majority of her life to. She refused to think it was for nothing.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it as a single tear escaped. Yes, she’d once again been drowned out, near broken. But she refused to cry or stumble. They were trying to cut her down, trying to silence her. It was enough to make her tremble at times, whether from fear or anger she was never quite sure. But these warnings to know her place only strengthened her resolve all the more that they would never silence her. She would make herself be heard. The only question was how and when.

Chapter Text

Aladdin stood among the crowds watching a fire dancer whirling his flaming staff through his fingers and over his shoulders. If the man didn’t have a regular job with consistent pay, he may have to ask Khaleel to see about hiring the man. But for now, that wasn’t his focus. His goal was entering the palace gates not a hundred feet away.

“Open the gates,” a man cried.

Aladdin casually swung Abu to the ground. “You know what to do, Abu,” he murmured. Not a minute later, the guard at the gate was sufficiently distracted. Aladdin slipped a dark cloak off of a man’s shoulders, a gold piece finding its way into the man’s robes. The hood fell over his head and hid his face in shadows as he walked beside the cart that rumbled through the gates.

He heard the guard call for the gate to be closed once again. Perfect. Safely inside and no one the wiser. He held his hand down for Abu to easily scramble up to his shoulders. In the courtyard he slipped into a deep shadow where he removed the cloak. He scrambled up a trellis and onto the rooftops.

He was officially in, but he had to find the princess’s chambers. He blew out a breath. He needed a disguise and plausible reason for seeking out her rooms. He had to hurry. He only had so much time. He glanced at the moon. If it wasn’t full, it was nearly so. Which meant that if Khaleel didn’t come looking for him tonight, he’d be coming tomorrow. He couldn’t afford to be late and thus worry his closest friend. Also, if he had even the slightest chance, he needed a token, not the bracelet, to ensure the validity of his promise to come again.

~*~*~

Within his chambers, Jafar removed his turban. “‘Remember your place, Jafar,’” he repeated quietly, only vaguely aware of Iago returning.

“Remember your place,” the parrot echoed from his perch.

Jafar whirled on him. “If I hear that one more time-” He allowed the warning to hang. It was always better to torture one with the unknown than with the known.

“Sorry, Master,” Iago squawked.

Jafar strode through his chambers, struggling to find his calm in the midst of his frustration. “Another petty insult from that small-minded fool. He sees a city where I see an empire.”

“Such vision,” Iago agreed, flying to alight on a large window’s sill facing the inner castle.

“Once that lamp sits in my hand,” Jafar continued, now calm, satisfied in his plans, he rested his hands on either side of the open book on the podium. “Then I shall sit on his throne.”  If he could not destroy the sultan by his death, he would destroy him by wedding his daughter. As much as he detested the thought of mingling his blood with that of Shehrabad, perhaps he would even force the sultan to watch as he–

“Thief! Thief in the palace,” Iago squawked, breaking him from his plans.

“Thief in the palace?” Jafar asked. That was impossible. No one could slip past the guards.

“That’s what I said,” Iago answered. “Thief.”

“What have you seen, Iago?” Jafar asked, stepping over the window.

“Diamond in the rough,” the parrot answered.

Jafar looked out. There, racing round the top of a lower minaret, a man stayed in the shadows. He jumped down, tumbling before climbing over the railing to navigate the top of a trellis. The vizier found himself impressed. Few street rats had the strength and agility to perform such feats, of which he had been one, many years ago. He could admire the man’s skill. But the reason of why he was here was the question.

Then on the quiet, night wind he caught it. Clear and sharp as crystal. A hint of roughness overlaying a brilliant diamond. Iago was right.

He grabbed his staff, slipping down to the lower courtyard the street rat was apparently heading for. In the shadow of the door leading into his private towers, Jafar caught sight of the street rat, now wearing a servant’s coat and hat and holding a tray of tea things. The guards walked right by his bowed head without so much as a glance. A pleased smile spread on the man’s face before he headed in the direction of the royal chambers.

“Who’s a clever boy?” Iago squawked.

“Follow him, tell me where he goes,” Jafar whispered. As the parrot flew off, Jafar turned away. He needed to find Hakim. Street rats shouldn’t be allowed to roam the palace.

~*~*~

Aladdin slipped through the halls under the guise of a simple servant who had lost his way to the princess’s chambers with some tea that she requested. He was actually surprised that it had worked. Finally he stood before the princess’s door. He stilled as he caught the sound of two women speaking. One was Dalia, but the other he did not recognize.

“There has to be something I can do,” Dalia said.

“A handsome prince wants to marry you. Oh, when will life get easier?” the second woman said.

“It’s not that I don’t want to marry.”

“You want to be sultan. But why?”

Ah, he was right. Dalia was actually the princess. Which could mean that the second woman was the real Dalia?

“You remember what my mother used to say?” the princess asked. “We would only ever be as happy as our least happy subject. If she saw what I saw today, she would be heartbroken.”

Aladdin’s heart almost thudded to a stop. What were the odds of his mother and the late queen of Agrabah being friends? Yet, those words also filled his heart with joy. She cared about her people. She wished things to be improved for them.

“She would also want you to be safe. And clean. I’ll draw your bath.”

“Jafar’s guards on every corner. Soon, he’ll be invading our neighbors, risking lives. For what? I can help. I know I can. I was born to do more than marry some useless prince.”

“If you had to marry a useless prince, you could certainly do worse than this one. He’s tall and handsome. And, yes, he’s a little dim. But you’re just getting married. It’s not like you have to talk to him.”

Aladdin almost laughed. The handmaid had an unusual sense of humor. He could get used to that. And Khaleel would probably fall in love, or at least be intrigued.

“But you’d prefer that boy from the market,” the handmaid said.

If the air had been slammed out of him, Aladdin couldn’t have been more surprised, or relieved. He hadn’t completely ruined his chances. He straightened before quickly knocking on the door. “Okay, smooth, cool, confident,” he muttered, turning so that he could make sure no one was in the hall. “You can do this. You’re a prince. Should be second nature.”

The door opened behind him. “Can I help you?” the princess asked, smooth and clear.

He turned and all thoughts and words escaped him. She was beautiful disguised as a handmaiden, but in her own chambers wearing a gold and turquoise gown and her hair about her shoulders, she was radiant. Even as her eyes widened in shock and a hint of fury. He was far from smooth, cool, or confident. Khaleel would slap him upside the head for the only thing that managed to come out of his mouth. “Tea?”

~*~*~

Jasmine didn’t know to be happy, furious, or shocked. “You.”  Aladdin stood before her door like a man who lost his wits. How dare he have the gall to show his face to her after what he did? “You!”  Didn’t he have better sense than to wander about the palace? If the guards caught him– “What are you doing here? Get in here, now!”  She dragged him in before he could protest. She quickly glanced each way down the corridor to ensure he hadn’t been seen before closing the door.

“I came back to return your bracelet,” he said.

“My bracelet? Where is it?” she asked.

“On your wrist,” he answered offhandedly, looking around.

Jasmine looked down, shocked to see Mother’s jewel gleaming where he had said. Almost as though it had never been absent.

“Not bad,” Aladdin said, bringing her attention back up. “I like what she’s done with the place. Loves books and maps, I see.”

“How did you get past the guards?” Jasmine asked. It was through sheer luck that she’d managed to do so today.

“Now that was challenging,” Aladdin answered. “But I have my ways.”

How was it that she felt herself falling for him yet again with his charms and roguish attitude?

“While the princess is out,” he continued, “would you like to go for a stroll? Have a little chat?”

She barely shook her head in shock. “You are unbelievable. You cannot just break into the palace and then walk around like you own the place,” she half-scolded.

He shrugged as though it didn’t bother him at all. “If you don’t own anything, you have to act as though you own everything.”

Jasmine could not help the smile that bloomed across her face. He was irrepressible, but she found that she liked that.

“So, what do you say?” Aladdin asked. “I did find your bracelet.”

Oh, no, she wasn’t letting him get away that easy. “You did not find it. You stole it,” she returned.

“Correction: the monkey stole it,” he answered.

“He’s your monkey,” she pointed out.

“He’s still just a monkey,” he protested.

Jasmine silently chuckled. Oh, she could do this all night. He may have her beat when it came to scrounging and scrambling over rooftops, but she was fairly certain she could beat him in verbal spar.

“Who ordered tea?”  Dalia’s voice interrupted them. Jasmine had almost forgotten that she was just in the other room.

“Uh,” Aladdin said.

“I did,” Jasmine said, slipping behind the young man. “For you, Princess Jasmine.”  Oh, please let her catch on quickly.

“Your Majesty,” Aladdin greeted with a low bow.

Jasmine quickly mouthed and pointed. “Boy. Market. Bracelet.”

“Why are you being weird?” Dalia asked, her face twisted with confusion.

The princess almost threw her hands up in frustration, but stopped herself just in time to be perfectly composed when Aladdin turned to her.

He looked at her uncertainly. Wait. Was that amusement hiding behind his nervousness?

She pushed the thought aside as he turned forwards again. She focused on Dalia again. She pointed to her bracelet. “Bracelet,” she mouthed slowly before pointing to Aladdin and back again. “He stole . . . .”

Realization lit up Dalia’s face. “Oh, I’m the princess, yes. And it is good to be me with all my palaces and wagons of gold things. And dresses for every hour of the day.”

No, there weren’t extra palaces. Jasmine wasn’t certain about actual wagons. Yes, they had definitely discovered that if Jasmine so wished she could wear a different dress every hour and not run out for roughly a fortnight. But, no one needed to know that.

Jasmine discretely spun her fingers round. She loved her friend dearly, truly she did. But, she was starting to hope that just maybe that stroll could happen, but it couldn’t happen with the “princess” in sight.

“Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned,” Dalia said, finally retreating behind the curtain.

Jasmine wasn’t sure how to interpret Aladdin’s expression when he turned to her. She smiled, shrugging. “She doesn’t get out much.”

“Mm-hm, clearly,” he said, setting down the tray. “So, crazy question but: if I were to say that I am secretly a representative for a prince who wishes to come calling in the future, what would you say to that?”  He was looking at her again, searching her face for she wasn’t sure what.

“I’d say it would be very bold of you to claim such things,” she answered. “Especially considering the possible consequences.”

His grin was so open, daring, and genuine. “But let’s just say that is the truth.”

“Alright,” she said, returning his smile. “In this hypothetical situation, you are secretly representing a foreign prince. For what purpose?”

“To ensure the prince’s safety when he arrives,” Aladdin said, “and to seek out if the prince’s affections have a chance of being returned.”

“You should forewarn the prince then,” Jasmine said, “she has a mind of her own and will not be bought by riches or parlor tricks. She loves a mental challenge.”

“And, if I were to ask what book she would wish to have more than anything in the whole world, what would that book be?”

“The Tales of Shehrabad.”  The title flew from her lips with hardly a thought. It had actually been ages since she thought of that book, though the remains still hid far beneath her pillows.

“The Tales of Shehrabad?” Aladdin repeated.

“Yes,” Jasmine answered. She quickly retrieved the charred remains from their hiding place. She hugged it to her chest. Most of the char, ash, and smoke smell had worn away, but if held close could still be caught. “The queen used to read from it each night,” Jasmine said, slowly approaching Aladdin again. He met her halfway but didn’t reach out until she half reluctantly offered the broken remains of those dear, childhood memories.

“Barely a week after her death, the princess threw it into the fire. Da–, I came in hardly a moment later and pulled it from the flames. Together the two of us beat the flames out, but it was already destroyed beyond repair.”  Jasmine had no idea why she had tried to destroy her mother’s favorite book. She hadn’t even realized what she had done until she heard Dalia’s sharp cry of shock. It had been terrible. She had only stared in horror before realizing that her friend had risked the flames. She could remember how her hands stung as she joined Dalia in slapping at the flames before they grabbed a couple cushions and smothered the blaze.

Aladdin tenderly held the book as though it was the greatest treasure in the world. He carefully opened the cover and gingerly turned some of the half-burned pages. Nothing but a few words were visible. The book had fallen open in the fire, offering an easy meal to the ravenous flames. If it wasn’t completely gone, the page was blackened and almost crumbling. Finally closing it, he looked at her, half-desperate, pleading, and heartbroken for her.

“I know someone who can restore this,” he said, tears shining in his eyes. “If you’ll allow me to have it, I promise that it will be returned to you whole before a week passes.”

Jasmine shook her head in shock and disbelief. “You’d have to be a sorcerer to fulfill that promise.”

She watched as he reached into a pocket resting over his heart. He clutched whatever it was tightly, as though he was about to reveal a portion of his very soul. Then he slowly held out his hand and unfolded his fingers. Two delicate rings hung by a gold chain. One ring was meant for a man’s finger, gold and inlaid with a blue opal. The other was a lady’s ring, gold and set with a blue opal between two blue topazes. “These belonged to my parents,” Aladdin said. “I have never parted with them, but I will offer them to you as surety of my promise to return your mother’s book to you.”

Jasmine’s heart almost stopped. In that moment, the carefree street rat who’d led her on a wild race from the guards in the market was gone. She wasn’t sure who he was. But his eyes mirrored her loss. Considered the two of them equals as he pledged the most valuable items he owned, both sentimentally and monetarily. Everything about him pleaded with her to trust him, let him try what he could to help.

She gently took the rings and chain they were attached to. She protectively held them to her. “I will protect them,” she promised. “But.”  She couldn’t hold back the warning. “If you don’t follow through, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I understand completely,” he said, his face and voice echoing the sincerity of his words. He looked at the book. “Do you have some spare cloth that I can wrap your book in?”

Jasmine nodded. She found a scarf of soft yet sturdy linen. She watched as Aladdin laid it out and then carefully, gently wrapped her book, shielding it from the elements and all harm. He then slid the package into an inner pocket of his vest.

He froze as he got ready to straighten. Jasmine hadn’t even noticed Rajah. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the bath?” Aladdin asked.

Jasmine was surprised when Rajah actually nuzzled her new friend. The tiger didn’t act vicious or protective at all.

“Servant girl!” Dalia called. “This cat isn’t going to clean itself.”

Aladdin looked up from scratching Rajah’s ears in an almost absent manner, as though he was fairly familiar with large cats. “But don’t cats clean themselves?”  He smiled, teasing. Like he knew a secret.

“You have to go now,” Jasmine said. She was fortunate to have gotten this long with him. She couldn’t risk his safety anymore.

“Oh, okay. But I’m coming back tomorrow night,” Aladdin said, even as she tugged him up and to the door.

“What?! No, you can’t,” she protested.

“Meet me in the courtyard beside the fountain,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. “When the moon is above the minaret.”

She turned as he pointed to the moon. She felt a slight tug before her hair fell loose. She whirled in surprise.

“To return this,” he said, holding up her gold and turquoise clasp, giving her back the gold pin. “And give you word on your book if nothing else.”  His smile was almost daring. “Maybe even some pointers for the next time you and your handmaid switch roles.”  He winked. He then paused, reaching up brushing her hair back from her face. “I promise to meet you there.”  Then he was gone.

Jasmine stood, shocked silent. Oh, she didn’t consider herself a romantic, but she and Dalia had read enough tales in their younger years. A moonlit rendezvous with a handsome, mysterious . . . well he wasn’t a stranger really. And was it just her imagination or had he just admitted to seeing through their act?

She turned away from her door. She would need some time to think and sort this out. Oh, if Aladdin hadn’t stolen her heart this afternoon, he definitely had tonight.

~*~*~

Aladdin shrugged out of the servant’s coat, as he pulled off the hat. He tossed his head at Abu to join him again. He was riding on a cloud. He could hardly believe it. Dalia was really Princess Jasmine. Actually, if he hadn’t figured it out in the hall, he would have figured it out as soon as Dalia stepped into the room. He had a distinct feeling there was some hurried communication going on behind him, but Jasmine just acted like everything was normal. Almost too much so.

Then that unguarded moment. The damaged book weighed heavily in his vest. He was certain that Jephtha or Bartholomew could restore it to its original condition. His heart still ached from giving Jasmine his parents’ rings. But, he was sure it was no worse than what Jasmine felt surrendering her mother’s book to him. There was no doubt in his mind that her words were no idle threat. Her eyes had flashed, her face hard. There would be no second chance if he ruined this one.

He almost laughed when he asked about cats cleaning themselves. This was so obviously the first time they had ever switched roles. It honestly was a little better than the first time he and Khaleel had switched. At least they were the same age. For a human prince and a then immortal genie, it was a little difficult to pass themselves off as the other. But he fully intended to give them some tips for next time.

Now, in the hall he grinned, tucking the clasp away in his pocket. He’d actually gotten away with it. He had snuck into a foreign palace and found where he wanted to be without getting caught. “Can you believe it, Abu?” he asked in a darkened hallway. “The most heavily guarded place in all of Agrabah.”  He turned from looking behind and jumped.

The captain of the sultan’s guards, Hakim, he believed, stood glaring at him. “Evening,” he said coldly.

Abu scrambled back to burrow into Aladdin’s hood. “Evening,” Aladdin squeaked out. He coughed. “Evening.”  He could almost feel two more people closing in behind him. “Guards are behind me.”  He turned, forcing a wary smile. “Hello, boys.”

He inhaled sharply as they caught his arms and secured his wrists behind him. While not harsh or cruel, they weren’t gentle. Admittedly this wasn’t the first time Aladdin had been sent into a prison as a street rat. But that had never been in a palace. When arrested, it had always been in a marketplace. Khaleel would arrive, reportedly roll his eyes before going to the prison, and claim that Aladdin was an escaped slave of his. Aladdin was pretty sure that wouldn’t be the case this time.

He did have one backup plan. A royal signet ring that would get him out of any trouble with the law that he might find himself in. But he wasn’t willing to use it unless he had no choice. Like being sent to the chopping block.

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked, focusing on Hakim.

“You’re to be taken to the desert. Your fate will be decided there,” the captain answered. He nodded to his guards.

Aladdin startled as a bag was pulled over his head. He struggled a moment in panic. But as his mind registered that he could still breath through the canvas weave, he calmed. He could make it. He could get through this. The end wasn’t here yet. He could still get out of this alive.

But he was still in big, deep trouble.

Chapter Text

Khaleel walked through the busy market. He scowled at the number of guards. He did not like this side of Agrabah. He’d be surprised if they stayed the polite length of time. If he could actually find Aladdin. “Kid, where are you?” he muttered.

He’d already checked with a trades woman by the name of Zulla. A street rat named Aladdin had been in the day before, but not today. A couple of the street vendors said that Aladdin had been seen running from the guards yesterday after a young woman reportedly stole from a bread stall. He hadn’t found anything since.

The former genie roughly sat on some lower stairs. He was going to smack that boy if he didn’t box his ears.

“Are you the one asking round about Aladdin?” a woman asked. She was darker skinned and larger than most women.

“I am,” Khaleel said.

“Maybe you should try his home,” the woman said. “I’m Oma. I’ll lead you there, but first.”  She gave him a hard glare that promised trouble if he didn’t say the right thing. “What do you want the lad for? He may be rough around the edges, but he’s a good one.”

“Merely to bring him safely home,” Khaleel said. “I’m a good family friend.”

Oma glared hard at him before nodding. “Fine, follow me.”

Khaleel followed her through various alleyways. “Dare I ask, how you know Aladdin?”

“I just so happen to be one of the reasons he’s still alive,” she answered. “He’s already edging on skin and bones as it is.”  As they passed into a truly deserted alley, she lowered her voice to add, “I figured he was some noble from the start. I never found gold after someone lifted one of my melons after he played the thief, and no street rat on these here streets has loose gold in their pockets without it disappearing in some frivolous manner. Not to mention it was pure and clean, not like some coins with bits of bronze or caked with dirt.”

“Did he actually say anything to you?” Khaleel asked.

Oma shook her head. “But I think that he suspected that I knew something. I’ve actually been waiting for him to search me out to try to convince me to accept a gold piece for the melon I gave him yesterday. But I haven’t seen him since he and his lady friend flew between a couple roofs.”

“Lady friend?”

Oma laughed. “Most fun the market has seen in a while. Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised if the girl was high born herself. Not many saw the bracelet Jamal tried to claim from her and Aladdin stole back, but they say that it was the most beautiful piece ever seen. Some older folks even said that it reminded them of a bracelet the queen used to wear. May her Majesty rest in eternal peace.”

Khaleel breathed deeply before slowly letting it out. “And Aladdin was running with this girl?”

“Apparently they were running together, but I haven’t seen any signs of them since, as I’ve told you. Here we are.”  She stopped in a dead-end alley. “You pull that rope and you can get in. I’m not sure how it works. It’s always already been done by the time I come by to check on him.”

“Thank you, Oma,” Khaleel said.

“You make sure that boy is cared for with a good, solid meal,” Oma ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Khaleel answered. As she left, he stepped into the loop tied into the end of the rope. Steps came out under his weight. “Alright. Let’s see what clues I can find.”

He jogged up the stairs and through the abandoned house. Up top, he discovered Aladdin’s temporary home. “Not bad,” he noted, taking in the canopy and various odds and ends. He stilled as he caught sight of the lute. Jephtha had told him about the prince taking the late queen’s lute with him. All the signs he was seeing indicated that Aladdin had left, but the lute showed that he had intended to come back.

“Oh, kid, what did you get yourself into this time?” Khaleel muttered. Mounting a landing that offered a great view of Agrabah’s palace, he whistled a short signal.

Jephtha flew in as a bird and transformed beside him. “What is it?”

“We might have trouble,” Khaleel said. “Ali hasn’t been seen since yesterday, and reportedly he was with a woman potentially of nobility.”

“What should we do?”

“Infiltrate every cranny and crevice, even inside the palace if it can be managed,” Khaleel said.

“Of course,” Jephtha said. “And what do we do if the prince has gotten in trouble again?”

“We’ll get him out of it of course,” Khaleel answered. “Even if I intend to slap him upside the head afterwards.”  Oh, yes. Ali was going to be in a world of trouble once Khaleel got his hands on him.

~*~*~

Aladdin barely struggled as he was half-dropped unceremoniously atop a sand dune. He hated riding a camel without his eyes. It made the motion sickness worse. He figured it was maybe midday by now. Khaleel was going to kill him. The bag was removed from his head. He looked around to see endless sand. “Where am I?”

“In a world of trouble, boy,” a smooth, persuasive voice said. A man dressed in black robes edged in red sat beside him. Something about him set the prince on edge. He didn’t feel right.

Aladdin couldn’t let on that he knew that the girl he met was a princess. “Is this about the bracelet?” he asked, retrieving his skullcap from Abu. “Cause, I didn’t steal it. The handmaid–”

“What was a handmaid doing wearing the queen’s bracelet?” the man asked.

“The queen?” Aladdin asked, trying to keep up his facade of a simple street rat. “No, she said it belonged to her–”

“Mother,” the man interrupted. The man looked at him, his smile feigning pity for Aladdin. The prince figured that the man couldn’t be more than a decade or so older than himself. He was a noble, possibly even a vizier if his ring could be a judge. His black beard was closely trimmed. There wasn’t really anything twisted about him that Aladdin could see. But he still felt a skin crawling sensation, not too different than what he felt around those who couldn’t find Ababwa on their maps.

“At least she told the truth about one thing,” the man continued, turning to look out over the desert again.

“Are you saying that she is the princess?” Aladdin asked. “I was talking to–”

“She was toying with you,” the man said. “It amuses her to meet commoners.”

Aladdin felt doubt stab his heart. Could it actually be? He pulled out the rich clasp. Could he have been wrong? No. It was not possible. Mother had wished that he find his bride by “Desert Moon.”  His heart told him Jasmine was the one from the moment her fingers plucked those opening chords. He had overheard her speaking to her handmaid how she wished for her people to live better lives. There was no posturing. She also would never have entrusted him with her most precious possession, most precious secret. This man was lying. Not about Jasmine being a princess, but about her nature.

“Did you actually think she liked you?” the man asked.

It took everything in Aladdin to keep from jumping when the man broke into his thoughts. He pushed the clasp into his pocket again. Refused to let himself be baited.

“What do they call you?” the man asked.

“Aladdin,” the prince answered.

“Aladdin. People like us must be realistic.”

“Us?” the prince repeated.

“You see I was once like you,” the man answered. He held up his hand, Jasmine’s hair clasp on his pinky finger.

Aladdin quickly searched his pocket, just to be sure it wasn’t just a trick. But it wasn’t. The man had managed to slip it out of his pocket without Aladdin ever noticing. Now he was certain of who this man was. He’d heard rumors of a man who’d risen from the streets to become a man of power. A man by the name of Jafar. When he’d first heard the rumors, he admired the determination of the man. Now, he wondered if there was something wrong about it.

“A common thief,” Jafar continued as Aladdin reclaimed the hairpiece. “Only I thought bigger. Steal an apple and you’re a thief. Steal a kingdom and you’re a statesman. Only weak men stop there. Either you’re the most powerful man in the room, or you’re nothing.”

Aladdin shifted uneasily. What exactly had he stumbled into now? He had the distinct feeling that he was about to be recruited for something, and he wasn’t sure how he’d escape if he couldn’t turn it to his advantage. His signet ring would be no use here.

“You. You stumbled upon an opportunity,” Jafar said. “I can make you rich. Rich enough to impress a princess. But nothing comes for free.”  And there was the bait. Something that any love-stricken street rat would bite.

Aladdin looked down at the clasp. He feared that Jafar was a danger to Agrabah, to Jasmine. He couldn’t stand by and allow something to happen to the princess and the people she loved. Khaleel was going to kill him for going it alone. “What would I have to do?” he asked.

“There’s a cave nearby,” Jafar answered. “And in it, a simple oil lamp. Retrieve it for me and I will make you wealthy enough to impress a princess.”  He turned once again to the disguised prince. “You are nothing to her. But you could be. Your life begins here, Aladdin.”

Aladdin took a deep breath. “I’ll do it,” he said.  Khaleel was so going to kill him for this.

Chapter Text

A full moon shone down from the night sky, painting everything in shades of blue. Aladdin gazed up at the silver-white disc, his heart cracking. He had promised, and he was forced to break that promise. He settled down upon the sand. He knew that they had to leave soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at this moment. He wished he had Mother’s lute. His fingers itched to play the song he had been taught so long ago. He wanted to connect with his princess in some way.

~*

Jasmine looked across the courtyard. The moon had traveled over the minaret and there was still no sign of Aladdin. She twisted the pin between her fingers, watching the moonlight gleam on the intricate grooves.

“Still waiting?” Dalia’s voice came suddenly at her side.

“No,” Jasmine tried to deny. “No, I just came out to–” She stopped herself. Who was she trying to fool? Really? “He promised.”  She looked to her friend, begging her to understand.

Dalia smiled sadly, squeezing her arm. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Good night, Dalia,” Jasmine said to her retreating form. She returned her gaze to the white moon. There was something more to this street rat that she was trying to understand.

Ever since he snuck into her rooms, he had seemed to know who she really was. Possibly even before that within his minaret. He had known that she was the princess and not just a handmaid. And never once did he act nervous about that fact. In fact, he treated her as an equal, not just a human being but in rank.

She pulled out the near invisible chain from her bodice to look at the opal rings once again. No one could find gems such as these among a street rat’s belongings. At the very least, Aladdin’s “hypothetical” situation was the truth. He was a disguised representative for a foreign prince. Or . . . might he even be– She stopped her thoughts right there. It would do no good feeding a false hope. Things would be so much easier if he was a prince. But it could only be a fairytale, not reality where that was true.

She released a long breath, looking up into the star strewn sky, many of the stars faded in brilliance beside the vibrant moon. Stepping into the courtyard, she felt an old familiar song swell within her. The song her mother had taught her. “When the shadows unfold, And the sun hides its gold, When the wind and the cold come calling. When the path isn’t clear, and the stars disappear as an endless midnight falling.”  She sat upon the fountain edge, absently scratching Rajah’s head. Why did this suddenly seem so poignant? So real to her?

~*

Aladdin looked up at the sky, the familiar words rising from his lips. “At the edge of the sky, there’s a moon hanging high, when you’re lost it will try to remind you . . .”  His heart tugged to somewhere far behind him. He could have sworn that he felt the faint echoes of some other soul singing with him.

“Street rat. It’s time to go,” a guard snapped.

Aladdin nodded, gathering up the water skins he was in charge of. Yet his heart strained for that echo again.

~*

Jasmine looked into the fountain’s smooth water. It perfectly mirrored the dark sky that held the distant moon. She lightly touched the water, sending ripples over the surface. “On a dark desert night you can look to the light, cause it’s shining there to find you.”

~*

Far above the earth, upon moonbeams, two hearts reached out and touched. Even as the owner of one was forced to move farther away, the owner of the other unconsciously followed the gentle tug to move closer as able. Two voices separated by miles and miles of desert sands blended together in perfect harmony.

Jasmine couldn’t describe the sensation as she sang the beautiful chorus. It was like that brief moment before Prince Anders’s ship was announced. A connection, but so distant now.

Aladdin nearly wept as he felt the connection he’d discovered when Jasmine first played Mother’s song in the abandoned minaret. He wanted to fly upon the moon’s light to her side, assure her that he had never intended to break his promise. He could only pray that if she could hear his song like he heard hers, that she would receive that message.

“Desert Moon, light the way, till the dark turns to day like a lamp in the lonely night bright and blue.  Desert moon, wild and free, will it burn just for me?”

Jasmine paused. She could feel remorse and a pleading from someone far and distant. Aladdin? “Shine down.”

Aladdin felt the silent call, even as the camel he rode carried him ever deeper into the sandy wastelands. “Shine down,” he sang.

“Til I find my way to you.”  The final line rose like a blended prayer between the two hearts. A prayer witnessed only by the moon and the ears of those too deaf to hear.

Chapter Text

Aladdin stood beside Jafar as they gazed upon an ancient tiger’s head carved into rugged sandstone. The prince had heard of this place, but never dreamed that he would one day enter it. Very few were ever allowed to enter the jaws of this beast and live to tell of it.

“The Cave of Wonders,” Jafar said. “When you enter, you will find more riches than you ever dreamed of: gold, diamonds, and the lamp. Bring it to me and you will be rich and free. But take no other treasure no matter how sorely you are tempted. And you will be tempted.”

Aladdin nodded as he stepped forward. He had a pretty good guess for why Jafar sought the lamp. He no doubt sought a genie. He couldn’t allow this man to have that genie. But first, he had to pass the trial the cave presented to him. He knew some places held real jewels while others held only illusions that crumbled to dust seconds before your demise was revealed to you. He needed to keep his wits about him.

He nearly jumped when the cave mouth came to life with a golden glow within its eyes and mouth. Its voice growled, rumbling through the very sand beneath the prince’s feet. “Only one may enter here, One whose worth lies far within: the Diamond in the Rough.”

“Remember,” Jafar warned, “take nothing but the lamp.”

Aladdin turned his face resolutely into the cave. He and Abu had been in more than enough similar caves. They knew what to do. He stepped into the cave’s mouth, noting how the throat’s glow died away. As it faded completely, the floor fell away beneath his feet. Aladdin cried out as he found himself sliding down, down, down into the cave. He landed hard, his breath knocked out of him.

He gasped for air, coughing against the settling sand. Gingerly he sat up as he finally caught his breath. They were halfway down a steep incline of stairs. Dusting himself off and standing he said, “Alright, Abu, you know how we do things. We don’t take anything. Keep your sticky paws to yourself. Until I have the lamp. Then you can snatch whatever catches your eye.”

There was no safe way to test Jafar. No way he could ask him to study a map without revealing his true identity. If Jafar would even believe him. No, he would have to see if Jafar would help him escape the collapsing cave or if he intended to leave him to his doom. Abu would ensure that the lamp stayed with them if Jafar proved to be untrustworthy.

Aladdin climbed down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, the prince saw the first of the tempting jewels: a shimmering necklace with a valuable gem. “Abu.”  He lifted the monkey up onto his shoulder, both to keep the monkey’s hands away from the jewels and for Abu to slap him out of any accursed enchantment that could be on the treasures.

Finally, they reached the main chamber. Scattered thickly over the many boulders was a sultan’s ransom. Multiple ransoms in fact. The wealth to buy kingdoms away from the greedy, to free every slave on the continent. And none of it for the taking, save for the small, seemingly insignificant lamp atop the central spire.

Aladdin walked round and climbed over the boulders. They were nearly to the lane of rocks that would give him a good boost towards the lamp when Abu leaped from his shoulders. The monkey landed in a golden dish, but the pedestaled dish was unsteady and fell with a crash. Abu screeched, jumping into Aladdin’s chest. The prince cried out as the unexpected force knocked him back. He braced himself, fully prepared to wake up to a splitting headache and an ostrich egg at least if not a nasty, bleeding cut.

He gasped as he landed on a firm but yielding surface. Almost like those times as a boy when he’d spin round until he collapsed into a dizzy mess upon one of the ornate carpets. But . . . he had always felt the hard, unrelenting floor underneath. He was almost certain that he was floating. He shot up like an arrow from a bow, whirling round.

There, floating and half-trapped by a fallen boulder was an ornately woven flying carpet. Aladdin had heard about them from some of the genies he’d helped. Actually heard a few horror stories of how many of those carpets were destroyed without any hope of restoration. He’d honestly thought that no more existed. But here he was in the Cave of Wonders, inspecting . . .

He crouched down, just in case his shock should knock him down. “Abu,” he said, “this is a magic carpet. They weren’t all destroyed.”  He half-laughed, straightening as he trusted his balance once again. “Hello, Carpet,” he said, shaking one of the carpet’s tassels.

Carpet clasped his hand in greeting before turning to tickle Abu. Much to Abu’s disagreement.

“Let’s see what we can do about your situation,” Aladdin said approaching the troublesome boulder. He set his back against it, latching his hands between the two stones. Carpet barely brushed him as it twisted round to help before focusing on tugging itself out. Aladdin strained. Just an inch or two. That’s all he needed. Carpet shot out, whirling and twirling round the cave, scattering coins in its wake.

Aladdin almost laughed with delight as he watched the magic being/item (he’d never been clear how to label it) celebrated its freedom. He cried out as Carpet almost bowled him over with a hug. He grinned. “Don’t mention it,” he said, sensing its gratitude. He then looked down. “Abu, not just yet.”

Abu scampered away from the gem he’d been reaching for. His chirps easily translated as “sorry.”

Aladdin turned his attention to the spire. The thought crossed his mind to ask Carpet to get him up there. But he discarded the idea. Carpet wasn’t his slave or servant, and who knows if the Cave’s rules would interpret it as claiming something other than the lamp.

So, he steeled himself and started the long climb to the top. The steps, if they could be properly called that, were fairly easy to climb. But then he reached the spire itself and he still had a good hundred or so feet to climb. He blew out a breath, rubbing his palms against his pants before he latched on and started climbing. Though precarious, the handholds and footholds were fairly plentiful.

He looked up, his breath getting heavy as he continued to pull his weight further and further up. He was almost there. Just a little further– A rock dislodged from under his foot. He cried out as he found himself swinging free by only one hand. He did not want to see how far up he was. He tore his eyes from the dizzying drop and back up to his prize. With a half-desperate lunge he latched his free hand to the rock once again. Just a little more. Just a little further. Then, he was there. Perching himself on a solid ledge, he stood eye level with the lamp.

He reached out with both hands and picked it up. He stood still a moment. Yes, this was indeed the lamp. Now, once he was down, he and Abu could head out and about halfway, he’d let his monkey snag whatever gem he wished.

Then the cave rumbled like a deep throated growl. He whirled round, catching the top of the spire to keep his balance. He could just barely make out Abu holding a ruby the size of the monkey’s head. “Abu! No!” he shouted. Too soon. It was too soon. It’d take a miracle to get out from this far in the cave.

“You have touched the forbidden treasure,” the cave growled. Aladdin stuffed the lamp into his belt, preparing to make a run for it as best he could. “Now, you will never again see the light of day.”

Aladdin grabbed the spire just before the whole wall before him exploded in red-orange heat. What was it he’d promised Khaleel not five years ago? No more volcanoes? He spun round, just as the lava struck the bottom of the spire. His heart lodged in his throat as the spire tilted back. He leaped, screaming as he slid down before jumping to the crumbling stairway. He ran and jumped, trying to beat the lava, manage to get ahead of it.

No time to panic. No time to panic, he thought frantically as he raced and landed on the tallest rock. It fell forward, dropping him just barely beyond the flood of molten fire. He felt the heat burning his ankles. The fire was lapping at his heels as he struggled to keep even a step ahead. Start panicking. “Carpet!” he shouted, seconds before he ran out of stone to run on. He fell forward, unforgiving stone and even more unforgiving lava waiting to meet him.

Then Carpet was there, sweeping him up and away from the deluge. Aladdin grabbed Carpet’s “shoulders” looking for Abu.

“Over there!” he shouted, pointing. Carpet shot over to the ledge the little monkey was screeching from. “Abu, jump!” he shouted. He caught the errant monkey in his arms. As Carpet flew them to the entrance, Aladdin scolded, “Next time, don’t set off the cave’s destruction until I say.”  He forced his breathing to calm as they weaved through falling pillars and stones. “Now,” he said, “if that man refuses to help us out of here, steal the lamp from him. We can’t allow him to have it.”

Abu nodded with a couple screeches.

They were almost to the entrance. Aladdin grabbed Carpet’s tassels as they swerved around more crumbling boulders. Then, just as Aladdin started to think that they might make it out, a large stone fell from the roof, dragging Carpet down. “Carpet!”  Aladdin grunted as he landed on a narrow sloping ledge. As much as he hated the idea of abandoning it, he felt that if his suspicions about Jafar were right, Carpet wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

The prince pulled himself up and climbed up the remaining six to ten feet to the entrance. Jafar was already standing there, staring down at him, just watching. “Could you give me a hand?” he gasped. He could still feel the heat of the molten rock at his back. It was sapping his strength and his feet couldn’t find the proper foothold to leverage himself up.

“First the lamp,” Jafar said.

“No, your hand,” Aladdin insisted.

“We haven’t got much time,” Jafar returned, his tone quiet but insistent. “Give me the lamp.”

There was his answer. But room for just one last chance. Aladdin tugged the lamp from his belt and stretched it up as high as he could.

Jafar crouched down and grabbed the dusty, brass light holder.

As soon as the dark man claimed it, Aladdin grasped the rock wall again. He heaved for breath. Soon, the heat would claim him, sending him down to his death once he lost his grip. He barely felt Abu tugging on his one wrist. “Now your hand!” Aladdin shouted.

Jafar only stared at the lamp. “Second no more, Master,” the parrot on his shoulder squawked.

“Now your hand,” Aladdin half-pleaded. Horror crept over him as Jafar stuffed the lamp into his satchel.

There was a greedy, power hungry fire in Jafar’s eyes. Even a deadness that showed that he had killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.

“How about my foot?” Jafar suggested.

“No,” Aladdin gasped. “No!”  The last came out as a scream as the man’s metal-soled boot ground into Aladdin’s grasping fingers. He lost his grip, but desperation and a surge of adrenalin made him reach out and catch the edge once again.

“Fool!” Jafar shouted. He withdrew a cruel dagger from his belt. “If you refuse to go quickly, I’ll help you along.”

Abu leaped up at him, biting his hand before scrambling around to throw the man off balance.

Aladdin didn’t get a chance to see if Abu managed to get the lamp. His sweat-slicked palms and fingers lost their grip, flinging him back down into the roiling cavern. He screamed as he fell. He vaguely felt Carpet slip under him before a rock crashed into his temple. He had no choice but to surrender to the cool, black oblivion.

Chapter Text

Pain. Pain and darkness. That was what he initially knew as he came back to consciousness. As he crawled further back to the wakeful world, he also found a heavy heat that weighed him down. Cool, little hands patted his face. He groaned as he opened his eyes.

“We’re alive?”  He coughed against his rough throat. Something matted his hair. He gingerly touched the left side of his head. He pulled his fingers away, wet and sticky. In the dim light he saw blood staining his fingertips. He turned to Abu. “Does it look bad?” he asked.

The monkey grinned at him, his eyes flicking from side to side.

Aladdin groaned. “Khaleel is going to kill me.”  And of course he didn’t have any bandages to take care of it. He looked up at the cave’s ceiling as the last of the exit collapsed away to nothing. “We’re trapped. Agrabah’s sultan needs to be warned that his vizier isn’t who he claims. We need to get back to Khaleel.”

He groaned again, leaning his head between his knees. His mind was racing which was only worsening his headache. He tried to take a deep breath and release it. But that only brought on a coughing fit as the unsettled sand irritated his throat. This was bad. “The lamp. Do we have the lamp?” he asked turning to Abu.

Abu dragged the lamp over.

Aladdin winced at the grating metal on stone, but made himself smile at Abu. “Good job, you cunning little monkey.”  He rubbed his knuckle under Abu’s chin, earning a croon of pleasure. He sucked in a deep breath. As much as he didn’t want to use a wish on medical care, he just might have to. But as he reached for the lamp, Carpet darted forward and dusted its tassels over it.

The lamp responded instantly, taking on a reddish glow before sparks started shooting out.

Aladdin scrambled behind a rock with Abu as fireworks and smoke filled the area. He grabbed his head as he curled up for protection. He wasn’t prepared to deal with an evil genie. He was nowhere near prepared. His headache pounded as the explosions reverberated around the cave and a shout filled the cavern.

“Oy! Ten thousand years can give you such a crick in the neck.”

Aladdin peeked out. No. It wasn’t an evil genie. He slumped in relief. Now this he could handle. Meeting a new, good blue genie and making a new friend.

He stared as the genie disconnected his head and twisted it round. “Whoa-Oh-Wow!”  Head reconnected, he said, “Does it feel good to be out of there!”

Carpet zipped up into his face, making stop motions as best as it could.

“Yo, Rugman! Haven’t seen you in a few millennia–” Genie started with a giant grin before slackening as he understood Carpet only as two magic beings could. “Where is he?”

Carpet swooped down to where Aladdin was still semi-hiding.

Aladdin offered a weak smile and wave. Genie may have been a good guy but he was also very loud which was not a help to his headache.

Genie gasped, hands flying to his mouth before he shrank down to human size at a dizzying speed. “Kid, what happened to ya?”

Aladdin opened his mouth to answer.

“No, wait. Comfort first.”

Faster than a blink, Aladdin was reclined on a clean, white bed with odd railings.

Genie stood over him dressed in white, a mask over his mouth and nose and an odd metal disc strapped to his head. “Let’s have a look at that injury there. Better check for concussion.”  He took out a black, metal stick that flashed a light into Aladdin’s eyes. “Follow the finger with your eyes.”

A solitary finger floated from side to side before making the prince go cross-eyed as it touched his nose.

“Okay, good so far,” Genie said. “Can’t ask the date, I’m not even sure about that. But name and what led to your injury.”

“Aladdin,” he answered. “A man sent me into the Cave of Wonders to retrieve a lamp. Abu, my monkey, tried to snatch a forbidden jewel which caused the cave to overflow with lava. Carpet managed to get us as close to the opening as he could, but I had to still climb up a short way. I was almost there, but I couldn’t pull myself up the rest of the way. The man insisted I give him the lamp before helping me back up. But as soon as he had it, he tried to kill me. I lost my grip. Carpet managed to catch me but I hit my head on something.”

“And it would seem the lamp managed to stay with you, assuming you are talking about my lamp,” Genie said, a long, winding strip of linen spiraling out of his sleeve.

“I didn’t see it, but Abu managed to steal it back,” Aladdin confirmed.

“No signs of concussion in sight,” Genie said. “Cut not big or deep enough for stitches. So a bit of gauze and bandages and we’ll be good to go.”  Even as he spoke, his hands moved so fast that Aladdin had to close his eyes. “There and now how about a little something for that headache?”

Aladdin opened his eyes again to see Genie holding out something no bigger than an irritating pebble. He looked up at him in confusion.

Genie smiled and extended a glass of water in his other hand. “Just swallow it straight down. No chewing.”

From his other side, Carpet nodded, waving its tassels in a “go ahead” motion.

Aladdin took the pill and set it in his mouth before drinking. He coughed a little, not used to swallowing something straight down. It was an odd sensation.

“There,” Genie said. “That should at least take care of the worst of that headache.”

“Thanks,” Aladdin said, running his fingers through his hair, brushing against the bandage.

Genie grinned. “So, any other wishes, Rugman?” he asked Carpet.

Carpet apparently gave the sign that all was good.

“So let’s get this show started,” Genie said, instantly shedding his odd costume and growing into a giant again before his tail gained an odd knob on the end. Genie held it as though he was speaking into it. “Nice to be back, ladies and gentleman. And just again for the record, what’s your name?” Genie asked, holding out the knob to him.

“Aladdin,” the prince answered.

“Aladdin,” Genie said, a board of oddly flashing lights appearing behind and to his left. “Hello, Aladdin, nice to have you on the show. Can we call you ‘Al’?  Or maybe just ‘Din’?  Or how about ‘Laddie’?”  Another outfit materialized almost instantly in reds and hints of green. “Sounds like, ‘Here, boy!’” He whistled, tapping his knee. Before dropping a stick as he disappeared, only to reappear as a dog that scooped up the stick in his mouth. “‘Come here, Laddie.”

Aladdin chuckled as he swung his legs over the bed’s edge. “I’m starting to think I might have hit my head harder than I thought.”

“You know, you’re a lot smaller than my last master,” Genie said. “Either that or I’m getting big. Look at me from the side. Do I look different to you?”  He turned, making his originally trim waist a flabby stomach.

“So, I’m your master?” Aladdin asked.

“That’s right,” Genie answered, flashing a flat hat with a tassel on Aladdin’s head and a document of some sort in his hand. “He can be taught. What would you wish of me?”  He became a giant with huge muscles, “The ever impressive,” whirled into a tight, see-through box, “the long contained,” popped out with a genie puppet that talked, “often imitated,” tossed the puppet away before creating echoing copies of himself, “but never duplicated,” a light shone down on him, “Genie of the Lamp!”

He shrank down again, much thinner and a bit grumpy looking as the copies behind him clapped and cheered. “Right here direct from the lamp. Right here for your enjoyment wish fulfilment. Thank you.”

“Wish fulfilment?” Aladdin asked smiling. Oh, he had lost count now of the number of times he’d heard the spiel. But he had yet to find a duplicate performance, and it always gave him a peek at what the Genie was like as an individual.

“Three wishes to be exact,” Genie said. “And xinay on the wishing for more wishes.”  The other genies behind him instantly vanished before he transformed into a machine with a single lever, a spout, and three windows near the top. “That’s it.”  He moved the lever, causing something behind the windows to spin before settling on three yellow genies. “Three.”  From a spout, three more genies in wide hats popped out. “Uno. Dos. Tres.”  A gray toned genie with a smoking stick slunk past him. “No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds.”  A wooden gray bird with the same stick dropped by a string held a paper in its bill with foreign letters on it.

“Are we sure this isn’t a crazy dream?” Aladdin asked Abu. The monkey laughed.

“Master!” Genie cried out, reappearing as himself again. “I don’t think you quite realize what you’ve got here!”  He shot a stream of magic sparkles that picked Aladdin up and safely deposited him on a boulder. “So why not you just ruminate while I illuminate,” he lit up like a star, “the possibilities.”

Aladdin grinned as Genie started up the guaranteed song and show. It never got old and he couldn’t wait to check out this genie’s style.

~*~*~

Khaleel paced around the rundown minaret, sipping a glass of tea. Nothing so far and it was about to drive him mad. He turned as Jephtha returned.

“There is no sign of him anywhere in the city,” the genie turned wizard said.

“And the palace?” Khaleel asked.

“Jade’s assignment.”

As if on cue, the willowy Jade flew through the window. One of the few genies who wished to retain their form after freedom. “Earlier, I saw the princess in the courtyard as if waiting for someone. She then sang ‘Desert Moon.’”

“And this is important why?” Jephtha interrupted.

Jade glowered at him. “Be patient and you’ll see. Anyway,” she turned back to Khaleel. “I almost instantly sensed a connection, as though the song bound her to someone far, far away. I followed the bond as quickly and as far as I could. Finally, I could feel the heart on the other end. It was our Ali. Khaleel, he sounded so sad, as though he was forced to do something he did not wish to do. I continued on, struggling to find him, but as the song finished, the bond faded. I could find nothing more certain than he is in the far deserts to our south.”

“What do we do now?” Jephtha asked.

Khaleel closed his eyes, releasing a long sigh. “We go search and find him of course,” he said. “His very mother would rise from the dead to kill us for doing otherwise. Come, let’s get back to camp to start making plans and setting up search parties. The night is already half-spent.”  He feared that the prince had stumbled into some sort of plot. Now the question only remained: would they find Aladdin or just his body?

~*~*~

Aladdin joined Carpet in applauding Genie as the entire performance was whirled up into a tornado. Abu seemed disappointed to have lost the coins he’d tried to collect. The prince had learned a bit about this Genie.

He was larger than life, enjoyed going over the top. He had a unique sense of humor and seemed to borrow quite a bit from the distant future. It was quite possible that he loved being a genie, aside from the living accommodations.

Genie also seemed determined to bring joy and laughter to those surrounding him. As soon as Aladdin acted uneasily around the dance girls, Genie got rid of them and they didn’t reappear. When he noticed Aladdin’s awe and delight of his performance, he went even larger if that was possible.

“So what will it be, Master?” Genie asked with a smile.

“You’re going to grant me any three wishes I want, right?” Aladdin asked.

“Uh, almost,” Genie answered, turning white-haired and semi-lean. “There are a couple provisos, a couple quid pro quos.”  While he “counted” on his fingers at least four new ones popped up as well.

“Like?” Aladdin prompted. Again, he knew the basics, but wondered how this genie would share.

“Rule number one,” Genie said, zipping stiffly over before sitting beside him, “I can’t kill anybody.”  He slashed his own head off so it landed on his hand. “So don’t ask,” he wheezed.

“Rule number two.”  He popped his head back on before continuing. “I can’t make anyone fall in love anybody else.”  His eyes sprouted long lashes before landing a pair of giant red lips on Aladdin’s cheek. “Mwah! Your little punim there.”

“Rule number three!” he half-shouted stretching out flat. He then proceeded to raise forward, turning green and strings of ooze hanging from him. “I can’t bring people back from the dead,” he said, looking worse than a mamluk and twice as undead. “It’s not a pretty picture. I don’t like doing it!”

Aladdin had to admit that it made him feel a bit ill himself. And unless he interpreted it wrong, this genie could actually bring people from the dead but just preferred not to and so listed it as something he couldn’t. Either way, not his concern.

“Other than that,” Genie said, giant once again with a big grin on his face, “you got it.”  He made a large bow and stayed that way, his hands covering his face.

Aladdin turned a little to Abu. The monkey nodded. Time to have some fun and a further opportunity to get to know Genie better before they returned to Khaleel. “Provisos?” he asked. “You mean, limitations? On wishes?”  He grinned as he and Abu played it up, much to Carpet’s confusion. Aladdin gave Carpet a “wait and see” gesture. “Some all-powerful genie,” he continued. “Can’t even bring people back from the dead.”  He stood up, sensing Genie’s growing annoyance. Yes, just a little more and it’d happen. “I don’t know, Abu. He probably can’t get us out of this cave. Looks like we’re going to have to find our way out of here.”

He barely took two steps before a giant foot blocked his path. He looked up to see an irritated genie staring down at them.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Tsk! Are you looking at me? Did you rub my lamp? Did you wake me up? Did you bring me here? And all a sudden you’re walking out on me?”

Yep, one of the rare genies that could be manipulated into doing something on their own. But that only worked once if at all.

“I don’t think so,” Genie went on, marching forward. “Not right now. You’re getting your wishes. So SIT DOWN!!”

Aladdin flinched back, almost falling if it wasn’t for Carpet. Okay. While a good guy, when this genie got angry, he got angry. Never going to do that again. This big guy was scary mad.

He apparently switched emotions fairly quickly as well. Genie was all grins again as he hopped onto Carpet himself, though human-sized again. “In case of emergency, the exits are here, here,” this continued for possibly nine or ten arms, “anywhere.”  He sucked his arms in to the wrists as Aladdin turned round and settled better on the carpet. “Keep your hands and arms inside the carpet. We’re out of here!”

With those words they flew out of the cave like a launching firework and started flying through the now predawn light.

“As we achieve our cruising speed and altitude, you may feel free to lay down and rest as needed,” Genie said, having transformed into some feminine uniform and speaking with a slight echo. “Refreshments will be served at a later time. Thank you.”

Aladdin smiled even as a yawn caught him. He really hadn’t gotten any sleep the past couple nights. Breaking into the palace and getting arrested before the long trek into the desert. Traveling the desert and going into the Cave of Wonders. Yeah, his body was more than ready for a rest. He laid down, curling up a bit to stay on Carpet. With a low sigh he surrendered to sleep.

Chapter Text

Jasmine looked up from the book that she hadn’t been reading for the past hour. She was worried. What could have happened to make Aladdin break his promise? She couldn’t explain how, but she just knew he wasn’t the sort of person to break his word.

“He didn’t come at all last night,” Dalia said.

“No,” Jasmine admitted, even if it hadn’t really been a question. “Something happened. I know it did.”

“How are you so sure?” Dalia asked.

“I don’t know,” Jasmine confessed. “Something about his eyes when he promised, I think. Or while we talked before that. He is trustworthy, I know it.”

“Are you sure it’s not just hopeful thinking since you gave him your mother’s book?” Dalia asked.

Jasmine hesitated. Was that why? A way to keep from falling into despair of willingly handing over one of the few things that held memories of Mother as a mother and not the queen? No, her heart said. “No, I trust him. I do,” she answered. Her heart then faltered. “But that still leaves the question, what could have happened to keep him from coming?”

“Maybe the guards caught him as he was heading out,” Dalia said. “He did sneak in.”

“We could ask Hakim if he saw anyone unusual in the palace,” Jasmine said.

“Or, I can ask a friend of mine to check the dungeons,” Dalia said. “We can’t tip the guards off about him if he managed to sneak out undetected. Then, it could be a simple matter of he got caught up in something in the market. Or . . .” she smiled, “he was collected by the hypothetical prince before he was ready to leave.”

Jasmine smiled. “Alright, we’ll check the dungeons just to be certain, and if he’s not down there, I’ll be looking for him when the next princely entourage comes calling.”  She looked into the distance momentarily. “I wonder if I might even find him within the royal robes of a prince,” she confided, glancing at her friend.

Dalia laughed, much like when they discussed the romance stories they’d read, before they discovered the happy or tragic outcome of each story. “Wouldn’t that be fine.”

“I would also suspect,” Jasmine said, moving over to a couch where she could lean over the arm to giggle and confide with her friend better from the large footstool, “he has a friend that he switches roles with. Because he told me he could offer the two of us pointers in that regard.”

“And he couldn’t do that unless he had experience,” Dalia said, scooting over closer.

“Precisely. And who knows,” Jasmine said, grinning and leaving the idea hanging.

“He could have a handsome friend,” Dalia said with a light squeal.

“Yes,” Jasmine said, excitedly clasping hands with her friend. “So, while you end up matching me with Aladdin–”

“You’ll be matching me with his friend,” Dalia finished.

The two friends laughed, talked, and giggled like they hadn’t for awhile. It was possibly all nonsense, but it lessened Jasmine’s worry. Or at least distracted her from it for a short time.

~*~*~

Khaleel leaned against his hands as his elbows dug into the table. Even with Jade narrowing it down, there was still so much desert to search. It would take a miracle to find Aladdin.

“How’s it coming?” Jephtha asked.

“It’s not,” Khaleel answered. “There is so much area to search, it would take weeks if not months to cover it all.”

“Maybe not necessarily,” Jephtha said, running his fingers over the maps. “Let’s say that Aladdin stumbled upon someone plotting against the royal family of Agrabah? Or someone stumbled upon him? What is out in this region of desert that would prove of interest?”

Khaleel dug back through his millennia of memories of what could possibly be there. “The Cave of Wonders.”

“Reportedly holding a genie’s lamp if someone hasn’t yet retrieved it,” Jephtha added.

Khaleel sighed. “And he could never pass up the opportunity to help yet another Genie get their wish fulfilled. Add that to any suspicion of a plot against Agrabah’s sultan and princess.”

“He wouldn’t pass the opportunity up in order to protect them,” Jephtha said. “Especially if what Jade sensed is true.”

Khaleel nodded. “Go check out the cave site. See if there has been any activity and if so, what kind.”

“Right away. I’ll bring you word as soon as I’m able.”

“Thank you, Jephtha.”  Khaleel sighed long and heavy. Kid, sometimes you are just too noble. He could only hope they found Aladdin in time.

~*~*~

Midday found Aladdin and his companions flying into a green oasis. After the prince had woke up about midmorning, Genie had served tea in bowled cups with little handles set on small plates. There were also baklavas drizzled with something dark and bittersweet, though more sweet. Aladdin loved it.

As they flew down among the palm trees, Genie was sitting cross-legged as he talked with a faint echo, much like he had earlier. “Thank you for choosing Magic Carpet for all your travel needs. Don’t stand until the rug has come to a complete stop.”

Just at that moment Carpet stopped, staggering itself into steps to the sandy ground.

Genie hopped to his feet, which Aladdin took as his cue to get up and off as well. “Thank you. Goodbye now,” Genie said as though sending off multiple people. “Goodbye. Thank you.”  Then he tore off his outfit and crossed his arms as though proving a point. “Well! How was that, Mr. Doubting Mustafa?”

“Oh you sure showed me,” Aladdin said, barely containing his smile. “Now about my three wishes.”

“Dost mine ears deceive me?” Genie asked, momentarily making his voice a falsetto. “Three? You are down by ONE, boy!”  He grinned hugely, even as he stuck a finger in front of Aladdin’s face.

The prince swallowed back his laughter as he nudged the giant digit away from his face. “Oh, no. I didn’t wish to get out of the cave. You did that on your own.”

Genie’s face remained triumphant for a second before his jaw dropped twice the length of his head and his topknot flopped over in shock. He pulled himself together. “Well, I sure feel sheepish,” he said shifting into a blue toned sheep. “Alright you baad boy,” he said, getting into Aladdin’s face once again. “But no more freebies.”  He marched off in a huff.

“Fair enough,” Aladdin said. “You’re scary when you get mad, so I wouldn’t have done it again anyway.”

Genie, who had already shifted back to his natural form, shrugged with a self-satisfied smile before laying himself out like a hammock between two palm trees.

“So,” the prince mused slowly starting to pace, “three wishes. I want them to be good.”  He already knew that he would be wishing to meet up with Khaleel. His old friend must be beyond worried by this time. The second wish remained to be seen. Considering what was happening in Agrabah with Jafar, he figured he’d be needing that one wish before all was said and done. The third? Well, that was up to Genie. “What would you wish for?” he asked.

Genie jerked upright. “Me?”  He flopped to the ground, propping an elbow on his “knee” and holding his chin. “No one’s ever asked me that before. In that case . . .”  He froze, his near hopeful jubilant face falling once again. “Aw, forget it.”

“What?” Aladdin asked. He always wanted to hear what genies wanted, what they could never grant themselves. Even if more often than not, they all shared a common thread.

“Oh, no, I can’t,” Genie said, half-mumbling as he pulled himself inward as though embarrassed. “I-”

“Come on, tell me,” Aladdin urged with a smile.

With a sigh and some trepidation Genie answered, “Freedom.”  His eyes were so hurt, hopeless, yet full of longing.

Aladdin pulled out the lamp, holding it carefully. “You’re a prisoner?” he asked. Yes, he’d heard that single word wish so often. But he had also discovered that freedom meant something different to each genie. Some just wanted free of their lamp, like Eden. Others wanted to leave the entire genie life behind, like Khaleel.

Genie neither confirmed, nor denied. “It’s part and parcel, part of the whole genie gig,” he said. He grew, calling the might of the universe into sight. “Phenomenal, cosmic power!” he roared. Then just as quickly shrank down and into his painfully cramped lamp that Abu quickly lifted the lid of. “Itty, bitty, little living space,” he finished in a squeaky voice.

Aladdin’s heart cracked again over the sad life genies were forced to live for other people’s pleasure. “Oh, Genie. That’s terrible,” he said.

“But, oh,” Genie said, flowing out of his lamp, obviously latching on to expressing his deepest dream. “To be free. Not having to go: POOF! What do you need? POOF! What do you need? POOF! What do you need? To be my own master. Such a thing would be greater than all the magic and all the treasures in all the world.”

Aladdin sadly watched him. This was why he had freed Khaleel, and all good genies before and after him. Whether they were in his kingdom or not, he couldn’t find it in himself to be any more happy than they were. He couldn’t just allow this sad slavery to continue if he could do something to change it.

“But what am I talking about?” Genie asked, slapping himself upside the head as he sank down from his lofty viewpoint and dreams. “Let’s get real here. It’s not gonna happen. Genie, wake up and smell the hummus.”

“Why not?” Aladdin asked, edging closer to Genie as he sat dejectedly on a rock.

“The only way I get out of this is if my master wishes me out,” Genie said. “You can guess how often that has happened.”

Aladdin bit back a correcting answer. It would only make it sound as though he was making fun of him. Besides, considering the poor guy had been stuck in his lamp the last few millennia, his reaction wasn’t too surprising. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll set you free.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, right,” Genie mocked. His head turned into the wooden one of a puppet with a nose at least two feet long.

Aladdin almost chuckled. “No, really,” he said, pushing the nose back in and indirectly causing Genie’s face to return. “I promise. After I use my first two wishes, I’ll use my third wish to set you free.”

Genie still looked skeptical, but something new sparked in his eyes. “Well, here’s hoping,” he said, accepting Aladdin’s handshake. “Alright. Let’s make some magic!”  He leaped up, donning a fitted black and white robe and oddly shaped turban as cards flew from his sleeves. “What is it that you want most?” Genie asked, immediately changing back to his usual form.

“Well,” Aladdin said with a shrug, “I’d like to meet up with an old friend of mine. I’m thinking that our scheduled meet up was supposed to be yesterday, but I ended up getting delayed.”

“Oh, by who?” Genie asked.

“The guy who wanted me to get your lamp from the Cave of Wonders,” Aladdin answered.

“Ah, the nasty guy who tried to kill ya,” Genie muttered. “Alright, another transportation wish coming up. But, if it’s an official wish, you better say the magic words.”

Aladdin nodded bringing out the lamp.

“Oh, don’t worry about the whole rub the lamp while I’m out of it business,” Genie said. “I never saw the point of it anyway.”

“Alright,” the prince said, tucking it away. Another occasional change from genie to genie. “Genie, I wish for you to take me to my friend, Khaleel.”

“You got it, my man!” Genie said. “And since he’s probably extra worried about ya, we’ll go the genie way.”  He whirled round like a tornado. “Sending ya over the rainbow. Watch out for flying houses and witches.”

A green skinned witch dressed all in black flew past him. “I’ll get you my pretty and your little dog too.”  She laughed manically as she was zipped back into the whirlwind.

A pair of ruby slippers also flashed by. “No place like home.”

Then the whirling sand was gone and Aladdin was standing beside Genie in a familiar tent. He turned around to see Khaleel standing before a table strewn with desert maps and staring open-mouthed at them. “Hi, Khaleel,” he said, a bit nervous. “Hope I didn’t worry you too bad.”

Khaleel groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “Only you, kid. Only you.”  He sighed. “I should have known you’d find another stray genie somewhere.”

“Not bad digs,” Genie said. “You nobility or something?”

“Or something,” Khaleel answered for him. “Ali, we need to talk.”

Aladdin cringed around his nervous grin. He knew he was in trouble whenever his royal name was used. “Yours to command.”

Chapter Text

Khaleel was torn between anger, relief, shock, and that unique feeling of “I should have known.”  One second he was alone, waiting for Jephtha’s return. The next a whirlwind of magic and sand appeared in the other half of the tent only to dissipate with Aladdin, Abu, a magic carpet, and a new blue genie in view. “Hope I didn’t worry you too bad.”  Such a classic thing for the street rat/prince to say. Although the kid probably suspected already that Khaleel had been worried almost to death over him.

Apparently with good reason. The kid looked as though he had barely escaped a cave collapse and volcanic eruption. Parts of his clothes were singed, in addition to the smell of melted stone clinging to him. Sand and bits of stone were everywhere, none hiding some of the faint bruises or sand burns. The only thing currently clean about him was the bandage around his temples, and the left side was staining red brown. All of this on top of the smell he usually acquired when he played the street rat.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Khaleel asked.

“Maybe not since I was on my own,” Aladdin answered, “but you need to know before we head into Agrabah.”

Khaleel released yet another long breath. “Okay,” he said. “But first, you need a bath, a salon treatment, and a healer.”

“If it makes you feel better, Genie was the one who bandaged me up,” Aladdin said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder to his latest stray.

“But the bandages will be wet after your bath and they look as if they are ready to be changed anyway,” Khaleel answered. “Just allow us all to swarm you and pamper you for a couple hours or more. We were supposed to meet up yesterday morning. We’ve all been worried sick about you since then. Even your new friend Oma was worried.”

Aladdin winced. “I’ll need to stop by to see her before we leave Agrabah.”

“Thought so,” Khaleel said.

“Oh.”  Aladdin dug into his inner vest pocket, pulling out a linen packaged object. “I need Jephtha and Bartholomew to have a look at this. It was badly damaged by a fire, but I promised Jasmine that I knew someone who could restore it as though it had never been burned.”

“‘Jasmine’?” Khaleel repeated.

“Princess of Agrabah,” Aladdin said, setting the package down. He locked eyes with Khaleel. “Desert Moon binds us.”

Khaleel slowly smiled. “I suspected as much. Jade heard the two of you singing together last night.”

The prince’s entire countenance brightened. “We truly sang together? A part of me had thought it was only wishful thinking.”

“Deserts have a magic all their own,” Khaleel said, smiling gently. “And, your mother wished that song would lead you to your bride. Of course it will have a bit of magic for the two of you.”

“Oh, before I head out,” Aladdin said. “Khaleel, Carpet and Genie. Genie, Carpet, Khaleel.”

“Pleasure,” Khaleel said. “One more surprising than the other, but a pleasure. Ali, out.”

“Yes, sir,” Aladdin said. He headed out as though he hadn’t been missing for the last two days and absent for the last three months. “Good day, Jalil, Abdul.”

“Good day, Your Highness,” both guards answered, just before both cried out in surprise and greeted their royal wanderer properly.

“Make sure he gets to the baths as usual,” Khaleel called.

“Yes, sir.”  They then proceeded to escort the prince with friendly ribbing and demands to know what all he had been doing.

Khaleel shook his head with a grin. Nothing had changed.

“So,” Genie said, floating forward. “He’s not a poor peasant who struck it lucky by getting a lamp.”

“Nope,” Khaleel answered, folding or rolling up each map. “He is Prince Ali of Ababwa. But, he prefers to be called Aladdin, and tends to be happier leaping between buildings as a street rat. Can’t necessarily say I blame him considering the viziers and nobles he has to deal with. He also has a habit of finding trouble and genies at nearly every turn. The trouble he barely manages to stay out of. Genies are another matter. He never fails to make three wishes. Two for himself or on behalf of someone, the final one for the genie.”  He paused, looking down at his bare wrists, wrists he never covered save for formal occasions.

“You are a freed genie?” Genie asked, awestruck, even as he sent out a couple hands to help Khaleel.

“I am,” Khaleel answered. “I have been tied to the Royal House of Ababwa for generations. And then, the day his mother died, Aladdin used his last two wishes. He wished for the protection of his country and then he wished for my freedom.”  He chuckled. “Oh, his advisors were not happy with him for that last wish. It was rare for any of Ababwa’s sultans to start their rule with only two wishes. For him to start with none was unheard of.”

Genie smiled wistfully. “And here I doubted him.”

“Well how long have you been in there, give or take a century?” Khaleel asked, nodding to the lamp Aladdin had left behind.

“Ten thousand years,” Genie answered.

“Aladdin has only been around nineteen of those thousands,” Khaleel answered. “And I have no recollection of there ever being a person like him before.”  The final maps put away, he pulled out other large parchments and smaller ones.

“Oh, what are these?” Genie asked.

“Performance lineups and plans for the song and parade number we always do when we enter a new city,” Khaleel answered, grabbing a box of figures to lay out over the map of Agrabah’s streets.

“Oo! Can I help? I always love a good show,” Genie answered, practically jumping with excitement.

“Not just yet,” Khaleel said. “I have to figure out the larger details of how it will work in Agrabah before any actual planning can start.”

“Okay,” Genie said.

But not even a moment after Khaleel had set up some of the pieces, a giant, floating gorilla was among the guard figures. “What is this?” Khaleel asked, catching it between his fingers.

“A giant character balloon,” Genie answered, pleased with himself. “Isn’t it so cool?”

“If we weren’t having to worry about being ahead of our time,” Khaleel said. “We want fabulous and magnificent, not a billboard that we have an active genie with us. Especially if the person who sent Aladdin in for your lamp is in the city.”

“Oh, sorry,” Genie said, deflating a little. The balloon animal disappeared.

Khaleel returned to his work, figuring out the order when a giant elephant appeared from nowhere among the figurines. “An elephant.”

“It makes a statement,” Genie offered.

Khaleel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Genie,” he said, fighting back his frustration, “I am still trying to get my creative juices flowing after spending the last twenty-four hours worrying myself over the kid. I need to work with what I have right now before I start brainstorming for anything new.”

“Oh,” Genie said quietly, floating backwards a bit.

“Look, just give me ten, fifteen minutes at least,” Khaleel said.

“Okay,” Genie said. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

Khaleel looked up in time to see Genie slip back into his lamp. He turned back to the parade setup. They had two to three days at the maximum to pull themselves together and be ready to enter the city with a performance destined to amaze a sultan and princess.

~*~*~

Aladdin smiled and greeted each person he passed. Two and a half hours since he had returned and he had been scrubbed to within an inch of his life, had his hair and nails trimmed to perfection, his five o’clock shadow removed, and his head injury cleaned and rebandaged. He’d also been fed the finest delicacies that his servants had managed to supply in this temporary camp. It’d been a while since he’d felt this good.

He slipped back into the tent Khaleel was set up in. His oldest friend was completely absorbed in planning and arranging the upcoming entry parade. Carpet slumped on the sidelines, gazing dejectedly at Genie’s lamp. “Did Genie head out to explore the camp?” Aladdin asked.

“Hm?”  Khaleel looked up. “Oh, no. He returned to his lamp.”

“What? Why?” Aladdin asked. Genie hadn’t struck him as the type of genie who found comfort in the confining, brass lamp.

“I asked him to give me a few minutes while I sorted out my thoughts and got in the planning zone,” Khaleel said. “Genies have been known to consider their lamps like a comfort object.”

“And when they consider the lamp their prison?” Aladdin asked.

Khaleel paused before actually turning away from the table. “That’s how he views the lamp?” he asked. His eyes showed empathy, a familiarity.

Aladdin groaned. “Genie loves to impress people. He wants their approval.”

Khaleel tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut in his own silent groan. “I did not handle this well. I’ll apologize.”

The prince nodded, heading over to the lamp. He lightly rubbed the light source, coaxing Genie to come out.

If possible, Genie looked even bluer. He brightened a bit. “Hey, Al,” he greeted. “Almost didn’t recognize ya.”

Aladdin shrugged. “Still the same guy. How are you doing?”

“Oh, fine. Nothing wrong going on here,” Genie answered.

“I have reason to think otherwise,” Aladdin said. “Khaleel has something he wants to say.”

Genie turned, almost hesitantly to the former genie.

Khaleel stepped forward slowly. “Genie, I apologize for being harsh with you earlier,” he said. “I was still running on worry fueled energy and I took it out on you. I should not have done that. I will appreciate any input or suggestions. I can’t promise we’ll use them, but I’ll at least consider them.”

“So, they weren’t bad?” Genie asked.

Khaleel lightly cringed. “Elephant, not bad. Chimp from the future, bad.”

“Got it, mon capitaine!”  Genie saluted as he simultaneously donned a white shirt with a square collar and semi-flat hat.

Aladdin smiled. “Okay, what have we got so far?”

“Oh, the usual,” Khaleel said, sweeping a hand over to the table.

Aladdin and Genie joined him, Carpet hovering nearby, much happier. Aladdin looked over the familiar figurines. The guards, dancing girls with their wing-like capes, dancing girls with their oversized feather fans. Peacocks and golden camels. Ostriches and white monkeys.

“Hm, quite the elaborate setup,” Genie noted, shrinking down to walk among them.

“Nothing but the best for Prince Ali of Ababwa,” Khaleel said proudly. “We are a rich kingdom, and we must show that whenever we enter a city.”

“Then why do you only have a portion of the ostriches and monkeys included?” Genie asked, pointing to the figures that were set aside.

“We have only so many handlers,” Aladdin answered. “And so we only choose the ones who have actually been behaving to take part in the parade.”

“If I were able to keep them controlled in their sections,” Genie said, “would you include all of them?”

“If you can handle it,” Khaleel said. “We’ll be holding rehearsals tomorrow. We’ll test it then.”

Genie nodded with a definite determination. He paused by a mark on the map that showed a bridge spanning the road. “Please say you are going to take advantage of this,” he said, pulling up a model of it.

“We don’t really have a means of doing that,” Khaleel said.

Genie rolled his eyes. “Hello. Bona fide, certified genie, right here.”  He grew to half his normal size, floating to look Khaleel straight in the eyes. “Work with me here and you can have the parade you’ve always wanted for this boy. No questions asked. Favor from genie to genie.”

Khaleel blinked, his face stunned. Dare Aladdin even think this, struck speechless and needing a moment to comprehend what he was being offered.

The prince looked back and forth between the two. It was almost like a challenge set forth between them.

“Well,” Khaleel said slowly, “there were some plans I had initially made for his grand entrances that I had to scrap after I was freed because they were impossible without magic.”

Genie’s eyes lit up with little stars. “Show me, show me!” he begged like a child eagerly awaiting a birthday present.

Khaleel smiled indulgently if maybe a bit embarrassed as he pulled out an old coffer. He opened it and pulled out a sheaf of rolled up parchments. He carefully laid them on the table and rolled them out.

Genie shrank and plopped himself belly first on top of them, ankles up and crossed behind him as he perused the pages. “Hm. Just how big is ‘big’?” he asked.

“Think ‘it would make a peacock jealous’ huge,” Khaleel answered.

“Wow. Now that is a big hat,” Genie said. “Oo, gold confetti explosion. I love it.”  A moment later, Genie gasped in delight. “Banners and streamers of flowers?! Perfect for the bridge!”

Aladdin smiled as Genie positively giggled as he continued to read over Khaleel’s old papers.

“Monkeys doing tricks. An elephant pulling a float of yellow-gold flowers in the shape of a kneeling camel. Oh, this is going to happen, my friend. You see if it doesn’t,” Genie said.

“We’ll see how it comes together tomorrow,” Khaleel said. “And remember, we don’t want to clue in that we have an actual Genie in our midst. It has to appear seamless as though we managed to make it possible with some slight of hand.”

“I gotcha,” Genie said with a grin and thumbs up.

“Khaleel!” Jephtha’s voice came from just outside the tent.

“Come on in,” Khaleel called with a smile.

Aladdin turned and straightened as the wizard entered. “Greetings, Jephtha,” he said.

Jephtha stopped, staring. “Prince Ali Aladdin of Ababwa, Sultan to be of the same, where have you been?!” he demanded, exploding.

“Finding another genie to free and a plot in need of unmasking?” Aladdin offered.

Jephtha glowered. “When I saw that the Cave of Wonders had collapsed in on itself with no way for me to discover if you were dead or alive–” He stopped himself, tightening his lips as tears glistened in his eyes. “Don’t you ever go into a situation like that alone. Do you understand me? I have lost more masters than I choose to recall. Don’t make me have to face the need to bury you prematurely again. Understand?”

“As much as is within my power, Jephtha,” Aladdin promised. He opened his arms, allowing the older man to fall into his arms with relief. Most of Jephtha’s masters had been good people before he and Aladdin met. Too many of them great heroes who had since passed into myth and legend for their mighty deeds. And more often than not, Jephtha blamed himself for not being able to save them, even if he had been trapped in his lamp at the time.

After a couple minutes, Jephtha straightened, rubbing at the tears still visible on his face. “How was Agrabah? Aside from the apparent bad turn within the past forty-eight hours or so.”

“For a street rat, Agrabah is the worst city,” Aladdin answered. “But the princess especially doesn’t wish for it to remain that way. And, within the next couple days there is something that I want you and Bartholomew to work on.”  He picked up the linen package from the side table he’d left it on earlier. “I promised the princess that some friends I knew could restore this book to the state it was in before it was briefly thrown into a fire. It is a storybook her mother used to read to her and her friend from.”

Jephtha carefully took the package into his hands like a parent would tenderly hold a newborn child. “I will go to Ababwa immediately and bring Bartholomew so we can have a proper look at it together.”

Aladdin smiled. “Thank you, Jephtha.”  He knew better than to protest his friend’s decision. He was perfectly willing to allow the man a few more minutes or even the rest of the day to regain his usual balance. But Jephtha was the sort of fellow who would show his emotions for a brief explosion before setting aside and working his way through the remainder of the emotions by doing something.

After the man left the tent, Aladdin turned to Genie’s stare. “You have an entire entourage of freed genies, don’t you?” he asked in wide-eyed awe.

“‘Entourage’ would imply that they follow me everywhere,” Aladdin said. “Only a few actually do that.”

“But most decided to stay in Ababwa as opposed to venturing out into the world,” Khaleel said. “And those that have gone adventuring made it very clear that they intend to attend Aladdin’s wedding and coronation.”

“Wow,” Genie said. “It’s rare to earn any genie’s loyalty like that.”

Khaleel smiled. “And it’s rare to meet someone who more often than not will actually free a genie.”

Genie cocked his head. “He doesn’t free some?”

“Those would be the genies who’d sooner roast you alive as look at you,” Aladdin answered.

“Oh, the bad ones. What happens to those?”

“Those get banished where they can never be found until they are no longer a threat to anyone,” Khaleel answered. “And before we get lost in preparations again.”  He turned to Aladdin. “Explanation of how you found yourself in the Cave of Wonders and how you got into the palace. Now.”

With a half-smile, Aladdin pulled up a chair and sat down. “It all started in the marketplace, day before yesterday.”  He told how he had met Jasmine and how he’d finally figured out what Mother had meant by Desert Moon. He scowled at Abu as he recounted the missing bracelet before he made plans for returning the jewel. He brushed over what he and Jasmine talked about, even as he smiled in memory at the verbal sparring and heart sharing. Then getting caught by the guards and being offered the deal from Jafar. He attempted to say as little as possible concerning his plans for testing Jafar, but Khaleel dragged it out of him before proceeding to scold him soundly for risking his life so badly. Carpet managed to shoot up in Khaleel’s good books though, so that was okay. Then the confirmation that Jafar was indeed preparing to take over Agrabah. And finally meeting Genie and the short journey to reunite with the camp.

Khaleel semi-glared at him, arms still crossed from his scolding. “Be thankful that you were born under a lucky star, kid,” he said. “You shouldn’t even be alive right now.”

“At least the Cave of Wonders gave me a greater chance of actually surviving than if I had refused Jafar outright,” Aladdin said.

“Al does have a point on that count,” Genie said.

“Too true,” Khaleel agreed with a silent groan. He locked eyes with the prince. “I’d say no supper, but you’ve already missed one too many of those.”

Aladdin cringed. “So, no sweets.”

“None,” Khaleel confirmed.

The prince released a long breath. “At least you’re not going to kill me.”  Even if he had been looking forward to some excellent sweet jam spread thick over a soft bread roll.

“No, you came too close to succeeding that yourself,” Khaleel said. “Though with that in mind, I’m going to have the cooks make you an early supper so that you can get to bed early. That morning nap isn’t near enough to keep the bags out from under your eyes.”

“Yes, sir,” Aladdin said.

“Abdul,” Khaleel called.

“Already sent a messenger lad to the cooks,” the guard answered. “Though I suspect the cooks already guessed what you’d order because I can already smell the food. And I already told the boy that if the food is actually ready, he is to bring a tray to Prince Ali as soon as possible.”

“Very good,” Khaleel said. “Now,” he turned back to Genie, “let’s start talking about more of these plans.”

Within hardly two minutes the two of them were engrossed in hashing out plans for the parade rehearsal tomorrow.

Aladdin soon found that since he’d sat down and finally told the entire story, he was truly tired. Before ten minutes had passed, a tray of food was brought for him, as well as two more for Khaleel and Genie.

The prince ate his fill of pomegranate seeds, rice, beans, dolma, and pita bread. The other trays had even more food, but the cooks always knew to play it safe after Aladdin returned from playing the part of a street rat.

After cleaning his plate, Aladdin laid out on the divan along the tent wall. He smiled as the two genies talked and ate, sometimes tossing the other some tasty tidbit. Yes, it had been Khaleel’s dream and deepest wish to be free and human, but he had apparently missed the extra abilities that came with “phenomenal cosmic powers.”  It even seemed as though despite the rough start, the two almost appeared to connect on a brotherly level.

Eventually, Aladdin fell asleep to the hushed but exuberant voices of two friends planning a grand occasion.

Chapter Text

“Now hold, hold until the sultan gives the signal.”

Aladdin watched from the sidelines under an open pavilion, Genie beside him. It was the first rehearsal of the day. It was without any of the new extras that had been decided on the night before. This was just to ensure that everyone remembered their parts from the last time they’d done the parade.

Khaleel made the performers hold out the note as long as they could before the wavering became noticeable. “And there it is! Then if he taps a beat, stick with it.”  He clapped out a steady rhythm that everyone followed. He then sang the one line reserved for when they were in the kingdom in order to pursue a possible courtship. “Heard your princess was hot! Where is she?”

Genie snorted with an eyeroll. “And he got after me for anachronisms,” he muttered.

“Huh?” Aladdin looked to him.

Genie buttoned his lip. A reminder that he had promised to merely watch and observe the first time through.

A little bit later, the song wrapped up with great energy. Khaleel clapped for them all. “Good job, everyone. Not bad for the first time round. We just need to work on the energy levels a little. We’ve only got one chance at this once we’re in Agrabah,” he said. “Everyone take a breather for now, we’ll be going over it again later.”

Everyone wandered over to some other tents provided for shade and seating as Khaleel came over to the royal pavilion. “Not bad for a genie without his powers, huh?” he asked with a smile as he drank from a cool glass of water.

“Not bad at all,” Genie agreed. “But ‘your princess was hot’?”

Khaleel gave him a deadpan look. “Your point?”

“It’s as much an anachronism as an inflatable gorilla,” Genie said. “Besides.”  He whirled down so he was sitting behind a table, as a pale young man in fitted black and white robes. “Don’t call her hot. Call her beautiful. She’s a girl, not a cup of tea,” he said, his voice completely changing.

“Okay, ‘Tom Holland,’” Khaleel groused. “What do you suggest?”

Genie returned to his own form, a light scowl on his face. “Come on. She’s pretty, beautiful. A lovely lady that shouldn’t be compared to the temperature of the desert sands.”

Aladdin watched as two equal wills grappled for dominance. He prayed that things wouldn’t continue to be this dramatic throughout the day. “Okay, how about this?” Aladdin said. “Genie will come up with a new line which we will try out along with the rest of your new plans, and Khaleel will decide if he wants them or not. Deal?”

“Deal,” Genie said.

“Deal,” Khaleel echoed. “But it has to stay with the meter and rhythm.”

“I’ll make it work,” Genie said.

“Okay,” Aladdin said. “How about we start trying to incorporate some of these new ideas?”

In order for some of the practice to take place, they had to recreate the road at least roughly. With Genie, they were able to have near perfect models with life-size crowds. Genie even put up the facade of the palace with the balcony the sultan and princess might view the parade from. Aladdin quickly showed some of his servants how to get up to the top of the bridge for the illusion of the banners having a source instead of pure magic.

Then came the second rehearsal which would include just a handful of the changes suggested. Aladdin was set atop a great float as Khaleel took his own position amongst the performers. It went without a hitch. Until Khaleel’s scripted line concerning the princess.

Maybe Aladdin should have suspected it to happen. But there had been very little warning.

“Heard your princess was hot! Where is she?”

One of the figures on the balcony turned away as though in rejection.

“Second chance!”  Genie, now transformed into a young man in a skintight, snake costume, caused everyone to move backward as though being restored to an earlier moment. Then Genie was in a parade costume. “Heard your princess was a sight lovely to see!”

This time the figure on the balcony remained where it was.

“Okay,” Khaleel said. “I think you made your argument quite well. Though you didn’t have to disrupt practice. But I have to ask: who or what were you?”

“Viperion of the Snake Miraculous,” Genie answered, holding one hand like a snake head.

“Must have shown up after I was freed,” Khaleel said. “Okay. You’re in charge of that line.”

“Yes!”

“From the top everyone, lets go!” Khaleel called.

Things started to fall apart after that. The animals refused to listen. The explosions of confetti weren’t going off right or on time. People were tripping or fumbling over the words. Lunch finally rolled around and Khaleel called a halt.

“Okay, people, we’ve just hit a couple snags,” he said. “I know this is some new stuff. We’ll have an hour lunch break and then we’ll see if things run a little more smoothly.”

Aladdin climbed down, looking around as he did so. He couldn’t see Genie. “Genie?” he called.

Khaleel was at his side in a moment. “The blue guy disappeared?”

“I don’t know,” Aladdin said. “But I don’t see him.”  He stopped one of the servants walking past. “Do you know where Genie is?”

“I think I saw him head over to the main camp just after the animals went crazy,” she said. “He looked a couple shades bluer somehow.”

“Thank you,” Aladdin said. “We’ll go check on him.”  He quickly led the way to Khaleel’s planning tent since that was the only tent Genie had really been in thus far.

He pulled back the tent flap to see Genie curled up near the back, wrapped up in a blue blanket like an oversized dolma. He lay on his side, staring at his lamp, as though he never intended to move again.

Khaleel touched Aladdin’s shoulder, signing that he’d handle it. He quietly walked in, laid down, curled up almost identical to Genie on the other side of the lamp. “Hey,” he said quietly. “We missed ya.”

Genie didn’t respond.

“The cooks have whipped up an awesome feast for the noon meal,” Khaleel offered. “Even some of those sugared dates you declared your favorite last night.”

“Don’t feel like it,” Genie said, tone dead.

“Why not? Want to talk about it?” Khaleel asked.

Genie curled up even tighter. “None of it is working. I’m a failure of a genie. I should just go back in my lamp but I can’t dredge up enough energy to do even that right.”

“Hey,” Khaleel said quietly, gently, “it’s normal for everything to go haywire during the morning rehearsals. Sure the first one or two may go great, but it’s guaranteed that after that, until we have lunch everything goes to the pits. It has nothing to do with the new stuff we’re adding.”

“But what if it does?” Genie protested. “Then everything will be ruined, Al won’t get his girl, he’ll blame me for the whole mess, and I’ll get banished into the Cave of Wonders for another ten thousand years.”

“Al wouldn’t let that happen,” Khaleel said. “And if he became wound so tight that he wasn’t seeing straight, I would make sure it wouldn’t happen.”

Genie shuddered, heaving.

It took Aladdin a moment to realize that he was sobbing.

Khaleel reached out and touched Genie’s shoulder. “Come on. Don’t shut me out, man. We’re here for ya. If there is a way we can help, we want to do that.”

Genie peeked out even if he didn’t actually look at Khaleel. “Have you noticed? No one ever asks the funny guy how he’s doing. They always figure he’s got it made.”

“I’m asking how you’re doing, funny guy,” Khaleel said.

Genie released a long sigh. “I’ve got a form of depression. I don’t know for certain what kind. But I can be all excited and a bit crazy for awhile, then I just fall into this slump that I can’t climb out of.”

“How did you figure out you have depression?” Khaleel asked.

“I checked out some future stuff, looked over the symptoms, that sort of thing,” Genie said. “Like, I can’t be for sure, really. But it’s really close if it isn’t the case.”

“Okay,” Khaleel said. “Anything that you think might have triggered this slump?”

Genie stared off into the distance. “I dreamed of freedom last night. For the first time I dreamt and didn’t feel as though I was chasing an impossible dream. Then,” he shivered. “Muktaar,” he whispered.

Khaleel stiffened, terror shooting through his own eyes.

Aladdin knew little about these ancient beings, the only mortal enemy of genies. Whenever he’d tried to learn more about them, the genies he asked would pale, stare off as though seeing ghosts, and say that they were better left forgotten. So, he’d finally pored over ancient texts in order to find the answers.

A muktaar’s sole purpose in life was to destroy genies, to wipe out the entire race of beings. It was because of muktaars that a genie family is now little more than myth. Many of the genies Aladdin had freed eventually confessed to being sole survivors of muktaar attacks, or having come across the remains of such attacks during their brief releases from their lamps. Aladdin grew up with tales of Saalua to scare him into obedience, but he felt the ghoul of half-witch and half-demon origins barely held a candle to the threat of the muktaars to the genies.

“He captured me,” Genie continued. “And he took me to Ajed al-Geraic, the master who traded me to a sorcerer in exchange for eternal life. I was enslaved again, Khaleel. If that really happens, I’ll never truly be free. I’ll merely be cursed to another enslavement that will have no end.”

Khaleel met Aladdin’s eyes. “Be specific with your words,” he said. “The deal is in the details.”

Aladdin nodded with a smile, even as Genie looked over at him. “I’ll make sure that you never have to worry about losing your freedom once you’ve gained it,” he said. “I promise.”

Genie smiled a little, gratitude shining in his eyes. “And the muktaar?”

“If any of those guys give you trouble,” Aladdin said, “I’m always up for a new challenge.”

“Not on your own,” Khaleel warned. “We’re not taking the chance of losing you again.”  He sat up, offering a hand to Genie. “Feeling up to some good food?” he asked.

Slowly Genie nodded, accepting his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. “I’m probably going to be down for the rest of the day,” he warned. “None of the rehearsals will be good.”

“Which is why we can have another whole day tomorrow to smooth out any kinks if needed,” Khaleel said. “Now, we’ll have about an hour or so for lunch before we start practicing again. Then after a couple hours, we’ll take another break to have a siesta or two. Before supper we’ll go through it all over again a couple times before eating and relaxing for the evening.”

“Okay,” Genie said, taking a couple deep breaths and letting them out. “I think I can do this.”

“We know you can,” Aladdin said, squeezing his shoulder.

An hour later, they practiced again and the entire performance went off without a hitch.

~*~*~

Jasmine set a loose curl behind her ear to best draw attention to her long neck. Perhaps he would arrive this evening, her princely street rat or street rat prince.

Ever since yesterday midmorning, Jasmine and Dalia had prepared as though the princess’s hoped for prince could arrive at any moment. Lunch and supper yesterday, then breakfast, lunch, and now supper today had seen Jasmine in the gowns best complimentary of her natural beauty. Dalia did up her hair and makeup to best accentuate her bright eyes and warm smile.

Last night’s bath had been the bathing regime of a bride awaiting her bridegroom. Herbal scrubs, oils, and lotions. Her hair was soaked with scented water and oils to smell like her namesake. Her nails treated and polished to enhance their beauty. Tonight would be much the same.

If anyone had noticed the extra care Jasmine and Dalia had taken with the princess’s appearance, no one commented. Baba seemed absorbed with state matters, state matters that Jasmine longed to help him with but was forbidden from. Jafar, loathsome and narrowminded as usual, appeared content to silently stew about some private matter. Hakim, one of the few former children of the palace who had been Jasmine’s friend in childhood, kept close reports from his guards concerning security and only approached when beckoned by the sultan.

While a small part of her wished that Baba would notice, Jasmine knew it didn’t matter. It wasn’t for Baba, Hakim, and never Jafar that she was preparing. She was preparing for Aladdin. That was why she and Dalia avoided gowns layered in coins or jewels, choosing gowns that while denoting her rank as princess, held only a few choice jewels. They attempted to give Jasmine’s hair a slightly freer appearance, like the braid she’d worn in the market and how her hair had been down in her rooms. Of course, they couldn’t be so bold as to let her hair go uncontained, but even the illusion just might please him.

She fingered the near invisible chain. His parents’ rings never left her person. She had half-considered wearing the rings, before discarding it as too presumptuous. They had been given into her care to protect, just as she had given her precious book to him.

Jasmine stood, brushing her hands over the teal bodice that blended into an ocean blue a foot from the skirt’s hem. Pale seafoam gauzy fabric collected at her elbows and flared to her wrists like waves on the seashore. Blue ribbons woven through her black hair were held in place by a dark turquoise clasp.

“If he isn’t struck speechless he’ll need his eyes examined,” Dalia said with a smile.

“We’ll just pray he’ll appear tonight,” Jasmine answered, returning her smile. Yes, she suspected that the waiting may turn tedious. But she had no intentions to slacken off and then be disappointed once he came when she was unprepared.

Chapter Text

Aladdin found himself in a frenzied mass as everyone prepared to travel the last several miles to Agrabah in the cool, predawn air. The plan was to reach the city by midmorning and perform the entry parade then.

He was dressed in white and gold, what many claimed to be the most complimentary tones for him. Genie’s lamp was tucked into a bag under his loose, outer robe. Once the parade was finished, Genie would slip back in to ensure his safety, at least until they received their rooms.

The prince was half-jostled to the newly decorated float that he would be sitting on. He cried out when Carpet suddenly swept him upward. “Thanks, Carpet,” he said. He settled into the relative safety of the high seat. “Can you find Jephtha or Bartholomew for me?” he asked.

Carpet nodded before zipping away. A moment later, it returned, carrying both men.

They smiled and nodded. “You sent for us, your highness?” Jephtha said.

“I needed to know if you managed to restore the book,” Aladdin said.

“We could only restore it to within a week of its damaged state,” Bartholomew said. “So anything added to it during the last three to five days before the fire claimed it is forever lost.”

“We have placed it in an appropriate box for presentation and entrusted it to Jalil,” Jephtha said.

“Thank you, both of you,” Aladdin said.

“Anything to help our deliverer’s courtship,” Bartholomew said. He ran a hand along Carpet’s “shoulders.”  “It’s wonderful seeing one of our old friends again,” he added.

“I have yet to offer him a permanent home in Ababwa,” Aladdin confessed with a smile. “But I mean to get to it.”

Carpet brightened, rippling on the air.

“I believe that would be a ‘yes,’” Jephtha said with a laugh.

“Excellent,” Aladdin said.

“Whoa! Now I’m not sure I can get used to that.”

Aladdin turned to see Khaleel sitting atop the broad shoulders of Genie’s elongated body. “Best way to see Al Man when Carpet is occupied,” Genie said.

Khaleel rolled his eyes with a smile. “Everything and everyone is ready to go,” he told Aladdin.

“Great,” Aladdin said. “And everything from Genie is prepared?”

“Right-o, kid-o,” Genie said.

Aside from a few hiccups, all the rest of the rehearsals yesterday had gone off without a hitch. So aside from maybe a quick rehearsal within sight of Agrabah, everyone was ready.

“Alright,” Aladdin said. “Onward then.”  Minutes later, they started out. Aladdin looked out into the distant horizon. Before noon, he hoped to see his princess again.

~*~*~

Jasmine checked her appearance in a hall mirror after breakfast. Gold was the color today, with accents of turquoise with sheer, white organza sleeves gathered at her wrists. She couldn’t help but think that the gown was somewhat reminiscent of what she wore in her chambers when Aladdin managed to sneak into the palace. She smiled, the hope in her heart rekindling that he would arrive today.

For now however, she had plans to join Baba in his study for tea and make a case for some needed change in her people’s favor. It had been far too long since the Royal Family of Agrabah had celebrated with their people, and Baba needed to know what was happening beyond the palace walls.

She caught the servant bringing the tea things to Baba’s study. “I’m going there now,” she said. “I’ll take it the rest of the way.”

The servant smiled. “So much like the queen,” he said, before dropping his gaze once again and excusing himself.

Jasmine’s smile grew sad. Yes, Mother used to take Baba’s tea to him if she managed to catch the servant in time. She’d almost forgotten. Taking a deep breath to fight back the sorrow and tears, she walked to the study with the tray.

She entered the room to find Baba already hard at work at his desk. “Hello, Baba,” she greeted, touching a kiss to his cheek as she took the tea tray to a table surrounded by couches by the back wall.

“Good morning, my daughter,” Baba greeted with a smile. “You seem happier these days.”

“Happier, Baba?” Jasmine inquired. Maybe she was playing a little coy, but she honestly wanted to know what he had observed before confirming or denying anything.

“Your eyes, they sparkle more,” Baba said as he left his desk in favor of the table, even as he carried a parchment over with him. “Your smile is one I haven’t seen in a long time. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the special care you and Dalia have taken with your appearance.”  He smiled, eyes twinkling. “What has changed in my little girl’s life?”

Jasmine smiled, sitting opposite Baba. “I have reason to believe that I met a representative of a possible suitor. What I heard of this prince piques my interest.”

“Enough for you to care what he thinks of you, unlike the others,” Baba said.

“Possibly,” Jasmine said. She wasn’t about to reveal that she suspected that she had already met the prince himself. Not to mention, she did not wish to go much further or it would be the question of how she met the “representative.”  She managed to steer the conversation to other topics, neutral ground before she attempted to present her case.

The time was enjoyable, as it often was when Jafar wasn’t present. When it seemed that Baba was in a particularly favorable mood, Jasmine took her chance.

Turning from the scale model of their city, she said, “Baba, I’ve been thinking. Maybe this year we could celebrate the Harvest Festival outside the palace walls. Like we used to.”

“That’s a nice thought, Jasmine,” Baba said. “But the city is too dangerous.”

Jasmine strove to keep her tone neutral. “If only you would go into the city–”

“Jasmine–”

“And see what Jafar is doing to Agrabah.”  She had to make him understand. Make him see that their people were suffering.

“My sultan!”  Speak of the shaytan and he appears. The darkly robed vizier was halted by Rajah’s growl. Hakim and another guard stopped just inside the door.

“Jafar,” Baba said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“I was delayed in the city by an urgent matter,” Jafar said. “There was a riot in the marketplace, more guards were needed.”

“More guards, Baba?” Jasmine protested, trying to appeal to him.

“Yes, more guards,” Jafar said, almost as though she were a child. “You wouldn’t understand the dangers of the city, Princess. Venturing out rarely as you do.”

Jasmine fought the urge to roll her eyes. She may not know or understand the dangers, as her near misadventure with Aladdin proved. But she knew that the answer wasn’t more guards. The people needed a sultan willing to fight for them. A sultan who would help the poor and homeless prosper once again.

“But come to think of it,” Jafar continued, “I did hear about your recent . . . trip.”

Jasmine felt herself panic. She had never wanted Baba to know. At least not like this. Not until she had managed to convince him that they needed to better help the people of Agrabah.

“What?” Baba asked, shocked, almost breathless sounding.

“Hakim spotted her out, alone,” Jafar answered. “In the marketplace.”

“I told you, you are not to leave this palace,” Baba scolded.

She held her ground. He had to see! “That is exactly what he wants,” she said fiercely, anger on behalf of her people sparking deep inside. “For us to be prisoners while he rules in our place.”

“That’s enough, Jasmine,” Baba said.

No, she wasn’t going to be silenced again. “You have no idea of what is happening out there,” she said, half-pleading for her father to listen, to understand. She turned to a hopeful ally. “Hakim, tell him,” she said. “Tell the sultan what Agrabah has become. That it isn’t the city we grew up in.”

Hakim cast his eyes down, refused to hear her. Refused to speak in defense of their people.

She fought to keep from snapping, even as Baba approached them. “The people are threatened by your soldiers, not criminals.”

“I encouraged your interest in these affairs so long as they didn’t threaten your safety,” Baba said. “No more.”

Before Jasmine could protest–

“Your mother might be here today, if I had–” emotion stole whatever else Baba was planning to say. But the meaning was clear. He blamed their people for Mother’s death.

Jasmine opened her mouth to speak.

“I will post more guards outside the princess’s chambers at once,” Jafar said coldly.

“Thank you, Jafar,” Baba said.

Jasmine subtly shook her head. Silenced yet again. But she could have at least one last word as more of her freedom was stolen from her. “Mother would never have wanted it this way.”  She then turned and walked out with every ounce of dignity she possessed, even as everything inside her wanted to race from the room weeping. If she happened to take some small comfort and pleasure in Rajah scaring Jafar, neither the vizier nor Baba needed to know.

~*~*~

Jafar inwardly scowled at the overgrown house cat. Once he was sultan, that cat would be better controlled. Its claws and fangs removed. A fitting collar locked round its neck. Its very fire removed from its eyes.

The Sultan’s words interrupted the vizier’s thoughts. “All I’ve been trying to do is just to protect her.”  He sank into the chair behind his desk, his eyes echoing his doubts. “Maybe she is right,” he continued as Jafar approached. “Jasmine is an intelligent woman. Perhaps we should include her in our councils.”

No, no this would never do. The stupid woman would ruin all his plans, wrest away his control of her “precious Baba.”  She would destroy the order he had managed to create in this formerly soft kingdom. “No, my sultan, your first instincts were right,” Jafar said. “You must protect her.”

The sultan slumped back. “Until we find her this elusive prince,” he said, softly chuckling.

Jafar almost missed the amused twinkle in the Sultan’s eyes as his mind raced forward to a possibility. “But in the absence of such an event,” he said, “we should think of an alternative successor to your throne, Your Majesty.”

“Someone like you,” the Sultan said.

“Me?” Jafar asked.

“It has to be you, Jafar,” the Sultan insisted quietly.

Mirth bubbled up inside. “Me?”

“It must be you, Jafar,” the Sultan said again.

“Of course, like me you silly, old fool! Give it to me now! Now!”

“Jafar.”

The quiet voice broke into his indulgent daydream, bringing him back to reality.

The Sultan was waiting for a response.

Jafar quickly searched back, trying to recall what had last actually been said. Ah. Finding the “elusive” prince. The vizier forced a smile. “I’m sure our suitable prince will appear.”

But, Jafar, caught up in his dreams and plans, never heard the Sultan mention what Jasmine had revealed to him. About a foreign prince’s representative meeting with her to apparently extol the prince’s virtues. Nor about Jasmine’s apparent interest and hope that this prince might be the one.

~*~*~

Aladdin heaved a breath as they stood before the gates of the city. The gates that would lead straight to the palace gates. He had acknowledged that this would happen not even a week ago. But now, it was time. Many would not recognize him. But there may be some who might, like Oma.

Two great bags of gold sat at his feet, gifts for the people, as much as he could currently bestow. A few smaller bags for those who’d been especially kind to him. He was aware how great a gamble it was whenever he came first as a street rat and then as a prince. But all too often, people never looked beyond one’s clothes and possessions or lack thereof.

“Your highness?” Khaleel called up. “We await your signal.”

Aladdin drew a deep breath. So much more weighed in the balance for this visit. But he must go forward if he were to discover if the balance was in his favor. They had performed one final rehearsal two hours ago. A rehearsal that had smoothed out the last kinks and given Genie an opportunity to give his hyperactive enthusiasm a vent. (“Don’t they look lovely, June?” “Fabulous, Harry. I love the feathers.”) It was time to appear before the Royal House of Agrabah.

Prince Ali raised his gold and ivory, hooked scepter. He waved it forward in an onward motion. There was no going back. For the first time, there was not only a kingdom to save from a usurper, but also a princess’s heart to win.

~*~*~

Jasmine glanced over at Dalia. Her friend was laying out their gowns for the Harvest Festival tonight. Frankly, the very thought of the festival now reminded her of how utterly she had failed her people yet again.

As she turned back to her book, she thought she saw something. She focused on the small flower arrangement a servant had brought in earlier. Her eyes hadn’t tricked her. It was moving ever so slightly. Earthquakes were unheard of in Agrabah. Which meant that there was an unnatural cause for the tremors. Then faint calls floated on the breeze as drums and rams’ horns sounded: “Clear the way! Clear the way!”

“Do you think?” Dalia asked, conspiratorially.

“We must see,” Jasmine answered. She tried to reign in the wild hope, just in case it was not him. But she couldn’t help the smile that blossomed at her lips at the possibility.

~*~*~

They were about to enter onto the last road that led directly to the palace. As they had traveled through the city, ladies had twirled in magnificent rainbows of colors, banners had spun, monkeys had greeted children, and some coins were thrown. Ali had sent Abu to deliver a bag of gold and precious jewels to Oma as they passed her rooftop. A couple more were sent to an old baker and to one of the poor families who had welcomed him into their meager shelter when bad weather kept him from returning to his minaret for the night. He would have to be sure to venture out into the city again to repay the others for their kindness.

At the moment however, the real performance was about to begin. Everyone glided or marched into their needed positions before they passed under the final archway. A handful of servants scurried up to the top of the arch with the bundles Genie had provided.

Four pure white Arabian horses displaying Ababwa’s colors pranced through the archway followed close behind by drummers on camelback. Close behind them walked even more drummers and trumpeters before the guards carrying the banners came through. Then the marching, soon to be dancing, guards trailed behind to be followed by the rainbow of dancers.

Ali forced himself to relax as Genie half-marched, half-danced before the horses, twirling a flaming baton. Everything would be alright. They got this.

~*~*~

Jasmine had managed to bring her features under control by the time she met Baba at the entry to the balcony overlooking the palace gates. While usually where the reigning Sultan would make announcements, it now provided an excellent view of the parade streaming through the archway.

She barely noticed how various courtiers bowed as they allowed her and Baba to enter first and claim where they wished to stand at the balcony. She gazed out in amazement at the horses that could only be the color of snow. Green and gold mantled them and their riders as they were followed by others in gold upon camels, and by walkers in red. Women dressed in magenta and lavender fluttered their wing-like capes like birds ready to fly. Soldiers dressed in green with breastplates of bronze polished to a gold shine. A man who had originally been in front of the horses, twirling fire, danced and somersaulted back as each wave of new wonders parted to reveal the main attraction.

“Make way for Prince Ali,” the voice of men shouting, or was it actually singing, rang forth.

Silvery women’s voices joined, most definitely singing, “Say hey, it’s Prince Ali.”

~*~*~

Khaleel took a deep breath, carefully balancing the great turban on his head. Genie had certainly helped pull everything together. Now to pull through it. This could very well be the last chance he got to do this, and it had to be perfect.

Genie nodded from where he was dancing and whirling before the temporary float.

Khaleel returned the nod, smiling. Well, there was one thing that he never dreamed, but who was he to deny a new friend who’d never had a chance like this.

“Hey, clear the way in the old bazaar,” they sang out together. “Hey, you! Let us through! It’s a bright new star. Oh, come be the first on your block to meet his eye.”

Khaleel grinned as Genie hopped around, interacting with some of the onlookers as they stared in awe at the parade.

“Make way. Here he comes! Ring bells, bang the drums! You’re gonna love this guy.”

Now for the first big moment. Everything had to be timed perfectly.

~*~*~

Jasmine barely held back a gasp as the man’s blue turban exploded into a shower of glittering gold dust. It was so startling she’d almost missed the banners dropping down from the archway just behind them.

“Prince Ali, fabulous he, Ali Ababwa!”  The two men sang. “Show some respect. Boy, genuflect down on one knee.”

Ababwa? She couldn’t immediately recall that kingdom, though it tickled something in her memory.

“Now try your best to stay calm. Brush up your Friday salaam. Then come and meet his spectacular coterie.”

Jasmine was certain her heart stopped as the entire float exploded into a million petals and leaves. Seconds later, it was revealed that the man and the golden girls with their giant feathered fans were standing, even walking as though nothing had happened. Those must have been some amazing reflexes.

~*~*~

“Prince Ali! Mighty is he, Ali Ababwa!”

Ali slid under the archway as the bull elephant pulled the float out and onto the street. The crowds shouted and waved in excitement. He nodded and raised his hand in proper greeting to them. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he saw the many people who had seemed so hopeless when he last saw them actually smiling.

He vaguely saw Genie and Khaleel dancing round each other at the forefront. “Strong as ten regular men! Definitely!”

He almost laughed at the claim. He watched as the soldiers slipped round the dancing women into place, slyly handing over a couple swords to Khaleel as Genie seamlessly snuck in among the crowds.

“He’s faced the galloping hordes! A hundred bad guys with swords. Who sent those goons to their lords? Why Prince Ali!”

“Prince Ali!”  The feminine voice caught his attention. A number of school girls stood giggling in a simple minaret, waving frantically.

He chuckled as he gave them an easy wave. He wondered how many had been giggling over his exploits as the street rat Aladdin. Possibly more than would care to admit to a prince.

~*~*~

Jasmine had softly giggled when Dalia nudged her about Ali’s heroic exploits. She was just disappointed that the giant, kneeling camel of golden flowers was too far away for her to have a good look at the prince.

The leader in blues, who originally had the ridiculously large turban, called out, “Fellas! He’s–”

“He’s got seventy-five golden camels,” seventy-five men carrying said camels sang forth.

Dalia teasingly rubbed her fingers together, causing Jasmine to roll her eyes. Of course. She’d be a fool not to understand that sort of boast. While not huge, those camels were large enough to be seen from the balcony.

“Now, the ladies!”

“Purple peacocks, he’s got fifty-three,” the women trilled, each one balancing one of the grand birds upon their heads. Aside from two whose costume made them appear to be peacocks themselves.

“When it comes to exotic type mammals,” the leaders sang, riding atop a pair of ostriches each among a sizeable flock.

The entire company took over as they continued to dance. “Has he got a zoo! I am telling you, it’s a world class menagerie!”

Jasmine couldn’t deny that it was impressive. But was this Ali the prince she’d been waiting for?

~*~*~

Khaleel couldn’t help but roll his eyes and chuckle as Genie took to the top of a harem’s balcony.

“Prince Ali! Handsome is he, Ali Ababwa!” Genie sang, momentarily supplying words for the girls to sing. “That physique! How can I speak? Weak at my knees! So get on down in that square. Adjust your veil and prepare to gawk and gravel and stare at Prince Ali!”

They were almost through. Just a little more to go and they would manage to either make it or break it. At this point, it looked as though they were going to make it. “Okay, everyone. Keep up the energy,” he quietly willed.

“He’s got ninety-five white Persian monkeys,” the company sang.

Khaleel knelt by some kids who stood hopping and laughing as the monkeys leaped and tumbled by. “He’s got the monkeys! A bunch of monkeys!”  Oh, yeah. They could do this. So long as everyone managed to remember the huge breath before they awaited the sultan.

~*~*~

Ali looked down at the crowds, especially the children. He scooped up some gold, the first since they passed through that last road before the archway, and tossed it to the laughing children. They squealed in delight.

“And to view them he charges no fee!”  The company sang. “He’s generous, so generous.”

Nerves nearly froze him. They were nearing the end. He could almost make out the figures standing upon the palace balcony. Soon they would be meeting again. For the first time both in their “proper” stations without any deceit between them.

He forced himself to move, dig both hands into the remaining half-bag of gold to shower Agrabah’s people with what little he could give them. He could only pray that after this, he could help ensure that they prospered again.

~*~*~

“He’s got ten thousand servants and flunkies!”  The company continued. “Proud to work for him. Bow to his whim, love serving him! They’re just lousy with loyalty to Ali! Prince Ali! Prince A–”

Here we go. All or nothing, Khaleel thought, even as Genie’s promise the day before lightly echoed in his mind.

“He takes too long, I’ll help them hold it out a little longer.”

Khaleel didn’t let any of his worry show on his face as the turned to the balcony again. “They’re waiting for you,” he shouted up to the Sultan.

~*~*~

Jasmine couldn’t help her small smile of surprise. It was rare that they were acknowledged during the entry parade. They were also apparently confident in their abilities since they were holding a single note and even some of the acrobats were near frozen in readiness to launch a partner or two into the air. She looked to Baba as he turned to her.

He silently asked for her permission. So, he already liked this prince. Oh, he was hopeful that this was the prince she had hinted at earlier, wasn’t he?

“We don’t go until you go!” the leader called up.

Well, she certainly couldn’t deny that she was also hoping. She smiled with a subtle nod.

Baba lifted his fingers even as his palm remained resting on the railing.

“You can do it!” the man down below said. Though whether it was solely for Baba or including the entire parade of people as they continued to hold both note and position, it was difficult to tell.

Jasmine looked outward again, just as Baba dropped his fingers. She could almost imagine a wind of relief sweeping over the entire parade as they cut off.

~*~*~

Khaleel almost whooped. “There it is!”  They’d done it. There was still one last rousing chorus. But the adrenaline that always pulsed through him after a great performance was already in his system.

“Prince Ali! Amorous he, Ali Ababwa!”  They all sang in perfect timing to the Sultan’s now tapping fingers.

~*~*~

Jasmine raised her eyebrows as the second leader shot up on a vaulting pole spinning round by his hand and crossed ankles before facing the balcony.

“Heard your princess was a sight lovely to see,” he said with a deep bow before twirling back down.

Impressive. Not the most elaborate compliment she’d received, but sweet in its simplicity.

Dalia nudged her, sharing a secret smile.

Oh, both of them were hopeful now. If this prince didn’t prove to be Aladdin, this could officially be dubbed one of the worst days with all these highs and lows.

~*~*~

“And that good people is why,” Khaleel sang and danced with Genie with an exuberance and energy born from victory, “he got all cute and dropped by.”

“With sixty elephants, llamas galore,” the whole company sang, “with bears and lions, a brass band and more.”

Khaleel whooped, jumping, high-fiving Genie. They’d done it. They had succeeded in performing the dream parade Khaleel had always wanted to give Aladdin, the master who had freed him, the first master he could truly call friend. He grasped Genie’s hand. Words failing him for the gratitude briefly overwhelming him.

Genie grinned, clasping his shoulders. His eyes saying that he understood and that he was happy to do what he could. He then slipped away so that he could hide away from the man who wished to enslave him.

Khaleel refused to let the possibly encroaching danger dampen his spirits as the last lines were sung out.

“With his forty fakirs, his cooks, his bakers. His birds that warble on key. Make way for Prince Ali!”

The rockets of glitter and confetti exploded and created a beautiful, satisfying cloud over the whole parade as everyone caught their breath. Quietly glowing in the pride and joy in a performance done well.

Khaleel turned to Aladdin. The prince waved to him, smiling broadly. They had done it. But now, the hard part for them. The formal presentation.

Chapter Text

Aladdin fidgeted. It was just him and Khaleel in the rather dark receiving hall. Well, Jafar and Hakim were in the room as well, but that was hardly any comfort. “Where are they?” he whispered.

“Relax,” Khaleel whispered back. “It’s just the nerves. Everything will be fine. We are rather last minute, you know.”

“Right,” Aladdin said. He released a breath, rolling his shoulders and forcing himself to relax.

Then the doors creaked open.

“Here they come,” Khaleel said. “Remember: breathe, relax.”

Aladdin nodded. He inclined a light bow as the Sultan entered, leading Princess Jasmine and her handmaid. He could do this. He’d done it before. Just don’t focus on the fact that his princess is in the room and watching his every move.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Ali,” the Sultan said.

“A greater pleasure to meet you and your family, Noble Sultan,” Ali answered, deepening his bow.

“I am afraid I am unfamiliar with Ababwa,” Jafar said.

“It is to the East,” Ali answered. “We have strong allies in various kingdoms. However, there may be some, who would be unable to find our kingdom for we are protected from those who would wish to destroy us.”

“Hm, that is very useful,” the Sultan said. “I may ask you later if it is known how your kingdom achieved this security.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ali said with a deep nod. Depending on Jafar’s presence or absence, he may offer the truth of the situation. Hopefully he wouldn’t be questioned too intently if he brought up family genies.

~*~*~

Jasmine felt herself intrigued by Prince Ali. Now much closer than the balcony, there was a very good possibility that her street rat with the thieving monkey was actually royalty in disguise. However it seemed as though he had more secrets than just that perhaps.

His servant lightly nudged him with an elbow.

“Khaleel,” the prince almost hissed.

“Mind wandered,” he whispered in return. “Gift presentation.”

“Ah, right, thank you,” Prince Ali said. Clearing his throat, he turned back to them. “If it would please, Your Majesties, we have brought gifts to show our goodwill.”

“We will most assuredly accept these gifts,” Baba answered.

The Ababwan valet clapped with a shout.

It was a small comfort to Jasmine that even Prince Ali was startled by the sound in the great hall.

“What have I asked you about that?” Prince Ali said in a low voice but not a whisper.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he answered as the doors behind them opened.

A portion of the parade troupe they’d seen before entered, lining up on either side of the room.

“We offer you spices, golden camels,” Prince Ali said, “little spoons made of gold–”

“Spoons,” Dalia said, at least feigning intrigue.

“Jams, and jewels,” Prince Ali finished.

“Jams?” Jafar asked, echoed by his parrot.

“Jams just so happen to be one of our finest exports,” Prince Ali answered, defending the choice of gift. “You will never find any finer tasting jams in your life, nor will you find any of the seedless varieties anywhere else.”

“Much thanks to the insistence of a resident sweet tooth,” the valet offered candidly.

“Which benefits everyone else as well,” Prince Ali said as though it was a long-standing joke.

Jasmine smiled. Apparently the prince appreciated sweets, jams in particular. “I suppose the spoons are intended for those who wish to eat the jams straight from a personal pot?” she asked.

The prince jolted as though caught in the very act. “If one so desires, yes,” he admitted. Another clearing of the throat as though setting himself on track once again. “And one final gift.”  He gestured to an object covered in a cloth.

At a nod, the servants standing on either side lifted the sheet away. A wooden drum of some sort, set in a frame with a handle for turning.

“We use it to make frozen cream,” Prince Ali said. “We will offer a demonstration whenever you wish.”

“We will most certainly look forward to this demonstration, Prince Ali,” Baba said.

“And what do you hope to buy with these great and rare riches?” Jasmine asked.

“A moment to speak with you and learn more of you,” Prince Ali answered.

“You believe my time is able to be bought or sold?”

“Your Highness,” the valet said, “he considers time with you so precious, he would consider himself fortunate if you counted these treasures worthy of giving him a mere moment in exchange.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows. This was a change.

“I fear that even if I offered the wealth of my entire kingdom, it could not pay for a full hour in your presence,” Prince Ali said.

His valet and accompanying servants all looked at him in shock. His valet even mouthed something that looked like “wow.”

The prince froze, his eyes slightly widening. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” he asked, his face darkening with red.

“Yeah, you did,” his valet said.  He lightly cleared his throat. “The, uh, personal gift?”

“Oh! Right,” Prince Ali said. “Jalil?”

A guard came forward but instead of approaching Jasmine or Baba, he gave the wooden jewel-inlaid box to his prince.

Prince Ali nodded his thanks, handing his scepter to the man. He then approached Jasmine. As he came nearer, Jasmine finally received her confirmation. It was him. Aladdin, the thief from the market. She’d hardly dared to allow herself to believe it was possible. So was that truly possible? Yet, he had said he could give her and Dalia pointers for the next time they switched roles. Could this truly mean–?

“Princess Jasmine,” Prince Ali said, interrupting her thoughts, “I was told you loved books and maps. When asked, you requested this volume. I hope that you will accept it as a gift, if not in courtship then between two allies, future rulers of their respective kingdoms.”  He opened the lid to reveal a copy of The Tales of Shehrabad. No, not just any copy. It was the very same one Mother used to read to her. The one she had entrusted to Aladdin. “We have copies of similar titles in our libraries,” Prince Ali said. “I hope we found the one you wished.”

Jasmine carefully lifted up the book from its satin bed. She leafed through the pages, catching snatches of familiar stories. Finding the clear script of Mother’s handwritten note in the front. “Thank you, Prince Ali,” she said, hugging the book to herself. “I accept the gift and the friendship behind it.”

“How would you have learned of this book?” Jafar asked, breaking the moment. Had there been a moment to break?

“I met his representative in the market,” Jasmine said, saving the prince. “He mistook me for Dalia and asked what the princess would wish. I answered him honestly.”  She met the valet’s eyes, searching for his name. “Is that not right, Khaleel?”

“Indeed, Your Highness,” he answered with a slight bow and hardly a blink. “Shall I apologize for the misunderstanding?”

“None needed,” Jasmine answered, meeting Aladdin’s eyes.

He offered a reserved smile as he bowed and started walking backwards. Halfway back he stumbled on his robes. Before he could fall however, a child darted forward with enough push to keep him upright.

Steadied on his feet again, Ali whirled on the girl that everyone was staring at. “Dhandi?! What are you doing here?” he demanded, crouching down to meet her eyes. He was shocked, frustrated, but not angry surprisingly.

“I’ve missed you,” the girl answered. “And I’ve always wanted to see Khaleel lead one of your entry parades.”

“Eden’s probably worried sick about now,” Ali said.

“I left a note,” the girl said, unrepentant.

The prince groaned before straightening and turning back to them, hands gently but firmly on her shoulders. “Your Majesties, my ward, Dhandi.”

“Hello,” Dhandi greeted with a wave.

“You already have a family started,” Jasmine noted.

“Broadly speaking, yes,” Ali admitted.

“He got me off the streets,” Dhandi chirped. “Said he couldn’t be happy when he knew someone was suffering in his city.”

“Is that so?” Jasmine asked with a smile. What were the chances of meeting a prince with the same belief she had concerning their people’s happiness? “I suspect you have quite a few brothers and sisters then.”

“Nope, just Al,” Dhandi answered. “Most folks don’t find themselves on the streets in Ababwa.”

“So, Prince Ali is not your baba?” Dalia asked.

Dhandi shook her head. “I’ve never had a baba, at least not a good one.”

“So, Ali is your brother?” Jasmine asked.

Dhandi nodded, half-swinging side to side as she clutched Ali’s hands that still rested on her shoulders. “He’s the big brother Mama never gave me, a brother I’d like to think coulda protected us from bad baba.”

Jasmine saw Ali’s heart crack in his eyes. His hold shifted to hug the girl in tender protectiveness. “You don’t have to say anything more about him unless you want to,” he said quietly.

“Not yet, big brother,” she said. “I’d rather brag on you.”

Ali’s smile did not quite reach his eyes but close enough. “At the same time, you are giving a terrible first impression of me.”

“How am I doing that?” she asked.

“We are formally meeting the Royal Family of Agrabah, and you are being very informal.”

“Oohh,” she drew out. She straightened, setting his hands aside before smoothing her rich though simple dress. “Your Majesties,” she greeted with a curtsy. “I apologize for my rude appearance and not being properly dressed for the occasion.”  Dhandi boldly met Jasmine’s eyes. “Will you at least give my brother a chance, Princess? He’s been looking for you for forever.”

“Dhandi,” Ali said, “almost there but a little too free.”

“But you have,” the girl said.

“Do you always allow the women and children of your kingdom such freedom?” Jafar asked with disdain.

Ali visibly bristled, subtly putting himself between Jafar and his ward. “We respect them in Ababwa,” he answered. “My mother ruled Ababwa since I was four-years-old, when my father abandoned us and our people. She alone was sultan until she died three years ago. Yes, there are some unspoken rules of decorum that are followed by all, not just women and children. Dhandi has been fending for herself on the streets up until two years ago. She is still learning royal protocols.”

Dhandi hugged his arm. “Ali,” she said quietly, a hint of fear in her eyes. “It’s okay.”

Ali drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “I do not take kindly to insults towards my mother,” he told Jafar coldly. “Be it direct or indirect.”

Khaleel coughed. “Formal audience still in progress,” he said in a flat, low voice.

Ali winced, wrapping the arm Dhandi held protectively around her shoulders. He met Jasmine’s eyes with a nervous cringe. “Is this mess ruining all my chances or is it actually helping in a convoluted way?”

Jasmine smiled. “I believe so.”

“That doesn’t answer which way,” Dhandi said.

“We shall see at the Harvest Festival,” Jasmine said.

“Yes,” Baba said. “You and your ward are most welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ali said with a bow, Dhandi quickly following with a curtsy.

“Does Dhandi have a festive gown?” Jasmine asked.

Ali turned to the girl with a raised eyebrow. “I highly doubt it.”

“I believe I still have some gowns from when I was her age,” Jasmine said. “And I’m sure if not, we can have something made special.”

“Dhandi?” Ali prompted.

“Thank you, Princess Jasmine,” Dhandi said, her face lit like the sun. She then peeked at Ali. “Am I in trouble?” she asked.

“You can enjoy your day here and the Harvest Festival,” Ali said. “But after the festival, you are going home and Eden will decide your punishment. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Dhandi said.

Jasmine smiled, holding out her hand for the girl as she hugged her restored book close. “Would you like to join me and Dalia?”

“Go ahead,” Ali said with a smile, nudging her forward.

Dhandi laughed as she ran forward and caught Jasmine’s hand. “Do you have blue or pink?” she asked.

“We have the rainbow,” Dalia answered as they headed off.

Jasmine glanced back. She was highly intrigued by this prince and hoped to uncover the mystery between Ali and Aladdin.

~*~*~

Aladdin released a long breath. That had somehow managed to go both rougher and smoother than he had planned.

“We saw to it that rooms were prepared for you before we came,” the Sultan said. “Perhaps during the festival, you shall demonstrate how you can freeze cream.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Aladdin said with a bow. “If we do not meet again before, we shall see you at the Harvest Festival.”

The Sultan nodded before following his daughter out, Jafar not too far behind.

“Wow,” Khaleel said. “I can’t believe how you managed to both stumble about and keep everything together at the same time.”

“With your help, Khaleel,” Aladdin said. “Let’s get everyone settled.”  He smiled around at those who were present. “Everyone has more than earned a good rest.”

It actually wasn’t until after the noon meal that Aladdin allowed himself to collapse upon the bed in his guest chambers. He barely even heard Genie come out to celebrate some more with Khaleel over the success of the parade.

Chapter Text

Jasmine ran her hand over the collection of gowns from years gone by. Most gowns weren’t saved, but these were special made for festivals. Some never worn because the seamstresses had insisted on sewing the growing princess at least two or three different choices. She turned and almost laughed at Dhandi’s gape-mouthed expression.

“All of these are yours?” the girl asked, barely touching a finger to one dress before jumping back.

“They were,” Jasmine answered. “Don’t you have gowns like this in Ababwa?”

“Not this many or so pretty,” Dhandi answered. She looked down. “The viziers and some nobles don’t think I should be dressed better than their own daughters. I’ve seen them bribe the seamstresses to keep my dresses simple. I don’t bother Ala-, Ali about it because I know he has his own problems with them.”

“So you let him believe or tell him that you prefer simpler dresses,” Jasmine said, gently, kneeling before her.

Dhandi nodded. “Royal life is still weird to me sometimes, and I figured I’m helping Ali by not causing trouble.”

Jasmine offered her a smile. “As the ward of Ababwa’s sultan, you deserve to be dressed as a princess. And, tonight, you will be.”  She waved her arm to encompass the entire room. “Explore and touch to your heart’s content. Even play dress-up if you want to.”

“Really?” Dhandi asked.

“Of course,” Jasmine said. “From one princess to another.”

The girl laughed before diving in between the hanging gowns, disappearing aside from her slippered feet. “Hm. They’re so soft.”  She peeked out, dark eyes sparkling. “How did you not wear them out from wearing them all the time?”

Jasmine chuckled. “Some of them I never wore because they were made for one festival and by the time the next rolled round, they didn’t fit right somehow.”

Dhandi’s eyes bugged out. “I can’t even imagine that,” she said.

“And here are the headpieces,” Dalia said, carrying in an open-air crate.

Dhandi cried out in delight before racing forward to look at the various cloth tiaras and veils. She pulled out a veil of deep blue sprinkled with silver stitching like starlight. “I love this one!” she cried. She tossed it over her head and clasped it under her chin with her hand. She twirled, giggling in delight, not noticing that she actually had the top trailing behind her.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Jasmine said, grinning. The girl paused as the princess set the veil properly on her head, fixing the top silver comb into her hair.

Dhandi beamed even brighter as she caught the wide, trailing corners of the large square and twirled again. “I want to wear this tonight.”

“Well that narrows down the gowns,” Dalia said, settling onto a nearby cushion.

“At least a little,” Jasmine agreed, even if she refused to leave the task until Dhandi had been at least partially satiated for dress-up and pretty clothes.

“Oh!” Dalia cried out.

Jasmine turned to see that Dhandi had set a red and gold woven tiara and veil upon her friend’s head. It was too small, but the girl looked so pleased with herself.

“You have to join in the fun too,” Dhandi said. She rummaged through the headdresses again before finding a rich pink and gold veil. She hurried back to Jasmine’s side.

Jasmine ducked down to allow the girl an easy reach to her head. She lifted her head again as Dhandi giggled in delight.

“Three princesses,” she declared, “getting ready for a royal ball.”

Jasmine met Dalia’s eyes. How long had it been since they played that game? Much longer than most girls their age, she was sure. Mother’s death had caused both of them to grow up faster than Mother would have liked.

“Well, then, Princess Dhandi,” Dalia said with a feigned haughtiness, “let us see what we have in our meager wardrobes.”

“Yes, Princess Dalia,” Dhandi said, dropping into her role as well. “Come, Princess Jasmine.”

Jasmine grinned and joined the fun. She lost track of time as they looked through the gowns and “modeled” some of them. Only Dhandi was able to actually put any of them on, but Dalia and Jasmine both would make a show of holding a dress to their front and draping the sleeves over their arms.

They were hardly halfway through the gowns when it was time for lunch. They settled in the room just outside the large closet to eat, though Dhandi insisted that they change their headdresses for the fine event. Jasmine ensured that Dhandi’s chosen headdress was set aside special for the evening.

The feigned haughtiness and high society play was dropped though they still addressed each other by their titles. As they ate the light lunch and drank some tea, Jasmine decided to ask Dhandi a few questions.

“Princess Dhandi, can you tell me more about your brother?” she asked.

“He’s the best,” Dhandi said. “He had gone into the city to escape from the viziers and nobles. They really like to bug him. He only planned for his escape to last a month, but he stayed with me for five.”  She saddened. “We were still recovering from the sultan’s death. We hadn’t really heard anything from the prince. Most of the messengers were silenced. It was a bad time for everyone, not just me. Mama had left one night, but she never came back. When I asked Ali about it, he said that I wasn’t to worry about it but if I still wanted to know when I was older, he would tell me then.

“After those five months, I found Eden. I think I scared Ali a little bit when I introduced them. But everything was good, and then once he freed her, he took us both to live with him in the palace. I think he had been secretly working with Khaleel to get a place for me ready.”

Dhandi saddened. “Sometimes he leaves for really long times. I hadn’t seen him for three months before today.”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Dalia said.

“It’s okay,” Dhandi said. “He always comes back with lots of stories to share. I just really miss him sometimes. And there are times when he’ll come back and Khaleel and Eden won’t let me see him immediately. They think I don’t know that he’s been hurt real bad, but . . . I’ve snuck into the room when they weren’t looking. I’m always allowed to see him a day or two later, but he never tells me what happened to have the grownups so worried about him.”

So, Ali was potentially an adventurer who occasionally stumbled into trouble.

Dhandi smiled again. “But he’s still the best thing that has ever happened to me. I just want to see him be happy, like he helped me to be happy.”

Jasmine returned her smile. She hoped to speak with Ali, if not before than during the Harvest Festival. She now had more than enough questions that needed answers. But as they finished their meal, she set her questions aside for another few hours of fun with her young guest.

Chapter Text

“Oh, I love parties,” Genie said, looking out over the balcony.

Aladdin smiled as he straightened himself out for the evening. “I’m sorry you can’t attend this one.”

Genie sighed. “I know, it’s for the best.”  He turned around. “I’d probably get a little too excited and lose control. Wouldn’t that be a night to remember.”

He whirled, changing into a white-haired maid in a dress of ice crystals. “Can’t hold it back anymore!” he sang, in a high but mellow voice, throwing curling winds of snowflakes from his hands.

“Okay, Snow Queen, we get it,” Khaleel said with a chuckle, adjusting his turban. “Besides, so long as you keep it down, you can create a small party of your own up here.”

“Hm,” Genie said, returning to his own form with a burst of snowflakes. “There is certainly more room than in the lamp. Oh, yeah. There will be a party here tonight!”  He zipped around the room.

“Just remember,” Khaleel said, casually grabbing his tail, “keep it down. We don’t want The Guy finding you.”

“‘The Guy’?” Genie asked.

“The Guy who has made it his goal in life to claim a genie and has all his wishes planned out,” Aladdin answered. “For the most part at least.”  He puffed out a breath. “So, how do I look?”

“Like a true prince, Al,” Genie said, ruffling his hair. “Oops, sorry.”

Aladdin chuckled, finger-combing his hair back in place. “Thanks, Genie.”

“And I am hoping to maybe woo a handmaid,” Khaleel said.

“Good luck, big guy,” Genie said.

“Thank you, and we are out,” Khaleel said. “Remember–”

“I’ll post a secret sentry on either ends of the hall and at the door in case of emergency disappearances,” Genie said, saluting.

Aladdin and Khaleel headed out to the main courtyard where the celebrations were being held.

“Am I needing to remind you to relax?” Khaleel asked as they neared the courtyard.

“Nope, I think I’m good. This isn’t my first party, remember,” Aladdin said.

“Be grateful it isn’t,” Khaleel said. “Or I’d be sending you back up to your room. No way you messing up my night.”

Aladdin chuckled at the good natured but very true jest.

“Prince Ali.”  An exploding firework revealed Jafar within the shadows. “May I have a word?” he asked, stepping into the better light. “Privately. This doesn’t concern your servant.”

Aladdin bristled before Khaleel lightly tapped his elbow. No need to make a fuss. Just acknowledge that this man rubbed him the wrong way and put his prince face on.

“Be over there, minding my business,” Khaleel said before stepping back through the archway they had just come through.

Ali straightened, facing the man who not even seventy-two hours ago had tried to murder him. “A word,” he said.

“I know who you are,” the vizier said.

Ali could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat. He subtly released a breath. “You do?” he asked, infusing as much skepticism as he could.

“Yes, you are a man of great ambition, like myself,” the dark man answered.

So he hadn’t been recognized. That was a relief, though he didn’t let any of it show on his face. He raised an eyebrow, much like he would if one of the nobles made an unfavorable suggestion. “I would doubt that, Lord . . .”

“Vizier,” the man corrected him. “Jafar, Vizier to the Sultan. I can be a valuable ally to help you get what you want.”

“I’ll be sure to think on that,” Ali said, starting to turn away. “I do not wish to keep the Sultan nor the princess waiting.”

“Perhaps, I am not making myself clear,” Jafar said, half-shouting his first word but calming himself quickly.

Ali turned stoically to him once again. He really should just walk away. This vizier had no right to command him.

“This offer will not be on the table for long,” Jafar said. “You see–”

A fog enveloped his mind. His defenses cried out, struggled to fight. An evil voice started to drift in. If he didn’t get out soon–

“Excuse me.” Khaleel’s voice broke through the enchanted fog, freeing him. He lightly touched the prince’s shoulder, guiding him away. “Prince Ali, your presence is requested.”

Ali nodded, allowing himself to be led away as he mentally shook off the troubling effects of the controlling trance.

“So, that’s The Guy,” Khaleel said in a low voice.

“Mm-hm,” Aladdin confirmed. “And he has magic. I didn’t know that.”

“So, no clue of the source of his magic,” Khaleel said.

“None. And that worries me. I couldn’t break out of it.”

“And usually you can since you’ve gotten accustomed to it after . . . how many times has it been?”

“I stopped counting at six.”

“I would strongly recommend writing out what could be your second wish,” Khaleel said. “Who knows what could happen.”

“Right. Do you have a spare parchment and quill?” Aladdin asked. “I’d rather do it now than wait until later and forget.”

“Very wise,” Khaleel said, reaching into his deep pockets.

Aladdin suppressed a shiver that wanted to shoot through his spine. He hoped that he hadn’t met his match, for Agrabah’s sake, the Sultan’s sake, and, most importantly, Jasmine’s sake.

~*~*~

Aladdin looked out over the courtyard, filled with nobles and other courtiers of Agrabah. The Sultan sat upon a couch where he could observe all the festivities. Dhandi sat beside him, snuggled into his side as the gray-haired ruler entranced her with stories and talk.

The prince actually had to look twice to be sure it was truly his ward sitting there. She was dressed in a flowing, satin gown of deep blue that blended into a rich, magenta towards the last half-foot or so of the skirt. White diamonds were scattered about the bodice like stars, much like the near matching veil that flowed down her back. And, she was behaving herself as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be wearing such fine clothes. As if she’d been doing so her whole life.

“Finally dressed like the princess she deserves,” Khaleel murmured.

Aladdin bit back a groan. “Those prideful, jealous jerks. They’ve been doing something underhanded haven’t they?”

“When have they ever not?” Khaleel replied. “Dhandi actually swore me to secrecy so that you wouldn’t find out. She didn’t want to cause more problems for you.”

Aladdin blew out a breath. “Well, I won’t be the one with the problems once we return to Ababwa. I’ll be rehearsing a tongue-lashing that those councilors won’t soon forget.”

“And that’s the fire I like,” Khaleel said. “But, just set it aside for now. Here, you aren’t an heir to the throne. You aren’t a sultan waiting for a ceremony to make it official. You are merely a young man coming to woo his lady love.”

“Right, right,” Aladdin said. Before he turned his attention elsewhere, Dhandi caught sight of him and waved enthusiastically. He smiled broadly, returning her wave though more subdued.

Dhandi’s actions caught the Sultan’s attention. The man smiled and beckoned Ali over.

Ali nodded before weaving through the crowds. Reaching the stairs of the dais, he bowed. “Greetings, Sultan and Mysterious Princess,” he said with a smile. “I thank you for inviting us to this grand occasion.”

“And I am honored that you accepted, Prince Ali,” the Sultan answered, hugging Dhandi’s shoulders as she giggled. “You have a most charming ward.”

“Jasmine and Dalia helped me choose the dress,” Dhandi said. She hopped up and twirled around, the flames sparking over the silver and gems. “Jasmine even said that I could keep it after the party,” she added, beaming like the stars.

“And I hope you told her thank you for the gift,” Ali said.

“I did,” Dhandi said. Her eyes went huge. “You should see all the dresses she had. Just for festivals like this! And all of them so beautiful.”

Ali chuckled. “I am sure the princess wouldn’t appreciate me venturing through any of her wardrobes.”

“But you may enjoy the benefits of my daughter searching out the best of her gowns for tonight,” the Sultan said. He lightly indicated a direction across and to the side of the fountain before him.

Ali turned and saw Jasmine talking with Dalia. It took all his self-control to keep his jaw from dropping.

Jasmine wore a gown of turquoise embroidered with peacock feathers and accented with gold ribbons. For a split second, Aladdin thought she wore a bold two piece, but no, the lower bodice was only made of a flesh colored fabric. Yet even that was bold in its own way. A veil trailed from the golden crown on her head, possibly even sweeping up to her fingers. It was impossible to tell from this angle whether the veil was one large piece or a set of a smaller and larger piece. Her black hair was gathered back in a ponytail by at least two gold bands.

“You should thank your valet, Khaleel, was his name?” the Sultan said, a chuckle in his voice. “He apparently spoke so highly of you that she’s been taking extra care of her appearance in anticipation of your arrival.”

Aladdin could have sworn that his mouth went dry.

“Well, are you going to go talk to her?” Dhandi asked. “You came all this way.”  She grinned innocently from her newly reclaimed perch when Aladdin turned to her.

Oh, Allah help the boy she turned her charming wiles on when she came of age. She was going to be a rascal. Unfortunately, that’s what came of being raised by a half-prince, half-street rat.

“I will be speaking with her,” Ali said. “Once I have a bit of punch.”

He barely caught Dhandi’s confused face as he turned away.

The Sultan chuckled. “He just needs a bit of courage to meet a lady who has managed to make herself even more beautiful than when they first met.”

Aladdin had barely stepped two feet away when Khaleel met him with a glass of punch.

“I suspect the Sultan is playing his own version of matchmaker?” Khaleel guessed, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“He is,” Aladdin said. “Actually said I should thank you for praising me so highly before the princess.”

Khaleel’s eyes all but laughed now, his smile turning them into half-moons of delight. “Well, you now saw where she is. This is your chance. Go for it,” he said.

Aladdin nodded, wetting his dry throat. “Okay. I can do this. Not too much different than the first time we met,” he said. “Just a lot less running.”

“Exactly,” Khaleel said. “And it sounds as though she is looking forward to talking with you just as much if not more than you talking to her.”

“Right,” the prince said, downing the last of the fruity punch. “Heading over there now.”  Admittedly, he feigned mingling with the guests. Yes, he wished for nothing more than to sweep Jasmine away to a quiet room where they could talk without pretenses. But that would not be happening. Not yet.

Rage bubbled forth as he spied Prince Anders approaching the princess.

“Princess Jasmine!” Prince Anders cried.

“You!” Jasmine said with a forced smile. “You’re still here.”

“Ja, ja,” Prince Anders said.

“Prince Anders,” Aladdin greeted, pushing down his irritation.

“Prince Ali!” the Skanlander cried. “How good to see you.”

“I’m sure,” Ali said, plastering on his polite smile.

“How is that climbing cat of yours doing?”

“Still angry that your ‘big gun’ destroyed his favorite climbing tree.”

Prince Anders laughed, clutching Ali’s shoulder. “Oh, very, very amusing.”

Ali stiffened at the contact. “May I kindly remind you, Prince Anders,” he said, plucking the other royal’s hand away by the sleeve, “while Ababwa and Skanland are allies, you and I are not friends.”

“Why not?” Prince Anders asked, clueless.

“I am not fond of those who delight in tearing apart my countryside in order to show off his new toy,” Ali answered. “And you may want to make sure your items are undisturbed. Because I’m sure my ‘cat’ has been wanting revenge, and his paws are very hand-like.”

Prince Anders’s smile turned nervous before he scuttled away, murmuring to his attendants.

“You’re not fond of him either,” Jasmine noted.

“Only enough to keep peace,” Aladdin said.

“So is now the time to ask about your ‘representative’?” Jasmine asked.

“That should be reserved for where no one can overhear,” Aladdin said. “Safety precautions.”

Jasmine nodded, forming a silent “oh.”  “So, I was wondering, if your father disappeared and your mother died, why aren’t you sultan?”

“Well, technically,” Aladdin said, “I am. But there’s apparently a rule that you either have to be twenty-one or married before you can officially be instated. I’m not quite twenty yet.”

“So, you’re hoping to find a princess because of that?” Jasmine asked.

“No,” Aladdin shook his head with a laugh. “With my current life, I couldn’t truly ask just anyone to marry me.”

“Oh, yes, like impaling yourself for the fun of it?”

Aladdin stiffened. No. It couldn’t be some sick trick. Then a familiar hand was on his shoulder. What was he doing? “Moz? What are you doing here?”  He half-turned to catch his older brother’s nearly black eyes.

“Let’s just say I sensed the first hints of trouble and decided to check on my baby brother.”  For once the black in his clothes was a minimum, though the predominant shade was midnight blue.

“I’m barely four years your younger,” Aladdin protested.

“And I have those nineteen years of teasing to make up for,” Mozenrath said.

Aladdin bit back a groan. Well, he wanted a more brotherly relationship. He focused on the bemused princess. “Princess Jasmine, my formerly long-lost brother, Mozenrath, Wizard Lord of the Black Sands. Mozenrath, Princess Jasmine of Agrabah.”

“A pleasure, Princess,” Mozenrath said with a bow.

“Likewise, Lord Mozenrath,” she returned. “Now, what is this about impaling?”

“One of the last wishes the sultan made before her death was that we couldn’t harm each other,” Mozenrath explained. “Which left us in an awkward situation until I agreed on a peace. Sworn enemies are a nasty business.”

“Only for those who wish to overtake the seven deserts,” Aladdin half-muttered.

“So part of Ali’s attempts of persuading me was making fools out of us both by casually impaling himself on my sword,” Mozenrath said.

“Not as bad as it sounds, no wounds,” Aladdin said. If Mozenrath didn’t stop soon, he would be getting a black eye. Or at least a decent attempt at one.

“And you should hear all the scrapes he’s gotten himself into,” Mozenrath continued to Aladdin’s embarrassment and Jasmine’s apparent amusement.

“Not here, Moz,” he muttered.

“If he just used his royal status a bit more and his–ow!”  Mozenrath glared at him and the pincer hold on his elbow.

“A private word, Moz?” Aladdin ground out. He gave Jasmine an apologetic smile. “This should just be a moment.”  He dragged his brother to a quiet corner. “What are you trying to do?” he whisper-shouted.

“Just offer some inside information on you,” Mozenrath answered.

Aladdin bit back a growl. “You see that man over there? In black and red with a cobra staff? He is plotting to take Agrabah. He knows me as the street rat Aladdin. He’s already suspicious of me.”

“And you don’t need me to fan the flames,” Mozenrath said. “Okay. Besides, he might be the source of all that magical disturbance I’ve been sensing. Nothing major, but enough to make me curious, especially since you’ve gotten yourself swept into the mix.”

“Just be careful,” Aladdin said.

“Of course,” Mozenrath said with a smile. “Good luck with the princess.”

Aladdin quietly groaned as Mozenrath slipped through the crowds.

“Being a headache?” Khaleel asked, handing him a second glass.

“Not as big as I feared,” Aladdin said. “How did he slip past us?”

“What other way? Magic,” Khaleel answered. “At least he’s not causing trouble.”

“And hopefully he won’t tip off The Guy of who survived the Cave,” Aladdin said.

~*~*~

Jasmine watched Ali drag his taller, pale brother to a less crowded area of the courtyard. She smiled a little. Mozenrath was certainly an interesting character if a bit too cold and aloof for her tastes. His and Ali’s shared history was most intriguing as well. Yet she suspected some of it had to do with Ali’s “representative.”

As Mozenrath left Ali and Khaleel took his place, Dalia returned with the punch. “We guessed right,” Dalia said with a smile. “He does have a handsome friend. Please make it work.”

Jasmine grinned. “Anything in Prince Ali’s defense?”

“He is trying to at least make friends,” Dalia pointed out. “Just act natural. Dance with him. The first song is about to start.”

“Well, he’d certainly be a better partner than Prince Anders,” Jasmine said.

“And here comes your partner,” Dalia said. “Hey, hi,” she said with forced casualness.     

And there was Ali, smiling uncertainly. “Should I be worried?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jasmine said.

“Sorry about my brother,” he said. “This is the first time we’ve seen each other since the peace has been established. And the first time we’ve been at the same gathering without him causing trouble. Not that he ever causes any trouble. It’s . . .”  He cringed. “I’m just digging myself deeper aren’t I?”

Jasmine raised an eyebrow, trying to contain her amusement.

He cleared his throat. “Well, would you like to, uh–?”

“Dance? I’d love to,” Jasmine said. She led the way to the other side of the fountain as Ali stammered out the affirmative. What had possessed her to assume and blurt out about the dance? Apparently Dalia’s awkwardness was rubbing off.

~*~*~

Aladdin sucked in a deep breath. It was happening. His first dance with his princess. Thankfully he had learned every harvest dance from every kingdom, so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself. He would just have to wait and see if he got bold enough to impress Jasmine in front of all these strangers. He’d imagined doing it among his own people. And that may still be the way it would be. Depending on his confidence and courage.

He joined Jasmine in the circle of dancers surrounding the fountain as the orchestra beat out the opening notes of the song.

Jasmine stepped forward with the other ladies, stately and graceful.

A moment later, Aladdin followed to a couple steps behind her, as stern and solemn as the other gentlemen. As Jasmine stepped, round, Aladdin followed, circling each other in perfect rhythm. Then, he stepped back, sweeping a grand bow.

Aladdin had always thought of this as bowing in reverence to a goddess. Never had it felt more fitting as he watched Jasmine dance before him. Fire flashed in her eyes, her moves fierce yet full of grace. Her form sultry but defiant against unwanted advances.

Then, as he swept the floor in a final act of veneration, he joined her in her dance. They were a force to be reckoned with. They moved in perfect symmetry as they raised their hands to the heavens then folded their hands in silent prayers of blessing.

As the music changed, Aladdin felt himself fly with the music. He could conquer the world so long as Jasmine stood by his side.

~*~*~

Khaleel braced himself as he noticed the light in Aladdin’s eyes. The boy was gonna do it. He was gonna do his personal peacock strut. Oh, he had seen plenty of displays over the generations. Feats of strength or daring. Beautifully written songs and lengthy prose. All directed towards the recipient of the creator’s affections.

However, all those in the past had been between two people of Ababwa, or at least where the recipients had been taught the various courtship rituals of different kingdoms including Ababwa. It was doubtful if Princess Jasmine had received any such education. But, hopefully she would still be wowed by the performance.

He saw that Dhandi was almost bouncing in her seat as she too noticed Aladdin start to break from the traditional dance.

Khaleel allowed himself to smile. When Aladdin had first showed real talent in agility, the two of them had decided to incorporate it into dance. So, many of the moves the prince would be showing off were moves the former genie had taught him.

Aladdin started leaping and spinning with the music, moving perfectly in time with the beat. He dropped to the floor, spinning and kicking up as the guests started to clap in rhythm with the music. He danced upon his knees, before pausing just long enough to look to Princess Jasmine.

She at least appeared intrigued by his performance. She even stepped out and they both danced round each other for a turn. That could be promising, if she was aware of the courtship rituals. And, no. Because instead of showing her own dance flare as Aladdin continued on, she slipped back to the crowds with embarrassment.

Aladdin hardly seemed to notice as he bounded onto the edge of the fountain to break a few moves. He gestured to the princess before performing a daring backflip.

Well, Princess Jasmine may have been intrigued, but Khaleel suspected that she was more upset and embarrassed right now. As evidenced by her forced smile and hasty retreat.

Aladdin stood, raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

Khaleel offered a sympathetic smile and gestured him over.

Aladdin looked one last time after the princess’s retreating figure before slipping into the cheering crowds.

“Most impressive,” the Sultan said.

“But she didn’t like it,” Dhandi said, as disappointed as Aladdin. “She was supposed to like it.”

“What do you mean?” the Sultan asked.

“If I may, Your Majesty?” Khaleel offered, just as Aladdin reached them.

“Of course,” the Sultan said.

“In Ababwa it is a common practice early in the courtship for the young man to perform in what he views as one of his greatest strengths. It is something that he has spent most, if not his entire life, honing just for the occasion. When he discovers the maiden he wishes to court and ultimately wed, he performs his ‘peacock strut.’  The more flamboyant, exhilarating, and overall extravagant the performance, the more serious he is in winning her heart.”

“And how would a maiden in your kingdom have reacted to such a display?” the Sultan asked, intrigued.

Khaleel cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “He would have all but proposed to her.”

The Sultan gave a low laugh. “You are very bold, Prince Ali. I am very sorry that your courtship customs haven’t been taught here.”

“Now Jasmine thinks he’s just a big showoff like Prince Anders,” Dhandi said, crossing her arms with a disappointed pout.

“Unfortunately,” Aladdin said. “Why didn’t I consider that?”

“You got caught up in the moment,” Khaleel said. “Which is how any peacock strut should go.”

“I promise, Prince Ali,” the Sultan said, “if you are unable to speak with Jasmine tonight, I will explain it all to her in the morning.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Aladdin said.

Dhandi yawned, barely hiding it behind her sleeve.

“And I think it’s time for a little girl to go to bed so that she can return home as soon as possible,” Aladdin said.

“Do I have to?” Dhandi asked.

Aladdin nodded. “Eden will probably scold me for being too lenient with you as it is.”

The girl sighed as she pushed herself to her feet. She turned and curtseyed to the Sultan. “Thank you for letting me sit with you, Your Majesty.”

“You are most welcome, child,” the Sultan said, giving her a hug.

Dhandi smiled as she wrapped her own arms around him.

“It was a great honor to have your company this evening,” the Sultan said. He turned to Ali. “If nothing else comes of our meeting, I hope at least a friendship. Your ward makes me forget how the years have fled me.”  He chuckled. “Or maybe I just don’t mind them so much.”

“I will make sure that we visit from time to time,” Ali promised.

Dhandi came down from the dais and wrapped her arms around Aladdin’s waist, a silent and involuntary admission of just how tired she was.

“I thank you again for inviting us to the celebration,” Aladdin said with a bow, resting a hand upon his ward’s shoulders.

“Oh, it was my pleasure, Prince Ali,” the Sultan said.

Khaleel and Aladdin bowed once again before retreating from the party.

“I hope your evening was a little better,” Aladdin said as he broke stride just long enough to lift Dhandi into his arms.

“Well, Dalia and I managed to exchange names at least,” Khaleel answered. “I think she’s at least attracted like I am to her.”

“At least that’s one of us,” Aladdin said.

“Don’t worry,” Khaleel said. “Once we’ve seen Dhandi off home, we can start thinking of how we can get the two of you to talk. I think the princess would have had enough time by then to not try biting your head off immediately.”

~*~*~

Mozenrath melted through the crowds, watching the man Ali had pointed out to him. In a way it was odd being his brother’s ally. But, as much as he would outwardly deny it, it felt right to be helping somehow.

Xerxes glided forward, unseen by all. Very few could see the floating eel, aside from those with a natural talent for magic.

Mozenrath sometimes wondered how Ali would react to Xerxes. Or simply react to the fact that he could see animals connected to nearly every being he came across. For example, the fellow he was watching, Jafar, he’d been called, had a cobra slithering about his feet.

The cobra caught sight of Xerxes and flared its hood in warning.

Xerxes merely rose higher and glided to the other side.

If Jafar was aware of his cobra’s displeasure, he didn’t acknowledge it. His focus was on Ali as the Ababwan prince finished his rather stellar if bold performance then retreated into the crowd.

“There is something very strange about that boy,” Jafar said to the captain standing beside him. “Keep a close eye on Prince Ali.”

The captain, who was accompanied by some fierce and loyal guard dog, gave a slight nod.

Xerxes floated back. “Master, hear?” the eel asked.

“I did,” Mozenrath said. “Well, done, Xerxes. As much as possible, I want you to continue watching this Jafar. Alert me if anything useful comes up.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And take extra care not to be seen. I can’t tell yet if he would be able to see you.”

Xerxes nodded before gliding away again.

Mozenrath slipped through the crowds once again, having no desire to mingle longer than necessary. He was now certain that Jafar was the man who had been using magic with such an untrained hand. Possibly the only reason he could wield the power of the cobra with his staff was because he was much like a cobra himself.

The young wizard was needing an explanation from his younger brother of how he had managed to get mixed up with this sorcerer wanna-be. Maybe even find out why he was sensing an ancient magic that he had never run into before. Basically, his brother had a lot to answer for.