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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.