Brave

Disclaimer: Aladdin belongs to Disney. Alima is my own creation, based on my own interpretation of Aladdin's mother. "Brave" is a song by The Fates, and was written and sung by Brad Kane, the singing voice of Aladdin in the movies. Isn't that a nice touch? :)

* * * indicates the passing of several years.

~*~

It had been a cold night when Cassim had left. That was what woke her up – the sudden absence of a warm body next to hers, the curve of his back, resting against hers. Alima sat up, and looked around the empty room, and shivered. They'd said goodbye, but then he'd held her so tightly… She'd kept the futile hope alive in her heart that he'd stay. That she'd wake up early and be able to see him in the early morning light, before all the worries of the day set upon his shoulders. She hated seeing him burdened by their poverty, hated seeing him pace Agrabah like a caged bird. Alima's mother had warned her, before she had left her paternal home to be Cassim's wife, that she was making a terrible mistake.

You cannot cage a wild thing. Not one that you love. Marriage will be a cage for him, you know it will. If you love, release him back to the desert.

Alima had not listened because she was in love with Cassim, and he with her. There was no question of letting him go – he wouldn't have wanted to go, even if she had told him to leave.

And now he had gone.

But he'll be back, she thought, getting out of the old bed and padding across the cold stone floor to the window, looking out across the desert. She thought she could make out a grey shadow, flying across the sand to his fortune. He loves us. He'll be back.

She should have been angry at him. He'd left her, he'd left them. Left them to fend for themselves for Allah only knew how long. They'd endlessly discussed it, the pros and cons of staying and leaving. In Alima's mind, the cons of going had far out weighed the pros. But not in Cassim's mind. He thought he could make his fortune, somewhere away from Agrabah. There were few opportunities in Agrabah, he'd said. Businesses were handed down throughout the generations, and Alima's family had refused to help them financially. They were still waiting for their wayward daughter to come crawling back to them. They'd be waiting until the day Allah came for them. Alima and Cassim had sworn to themselves they would survive. No matter what the odds.

They had to survive. For their own pride and for the love they felt for each other… and their son.

The baby started to cry, and Alima ran to him, gathering him up in her arms and kissing his hair. "Hey," she whispered, "wipe those angry eyes away." She brushed the tears from his cheeks, and felt her throat tighten. She blinked and then sighed. "You're holding in," she murmured to herself to herself. "Don't deny yourself the right to cry, you've every right to be afraid."

Afraid. She was alone. Alone with a three month old child. She shivered, and held her little man even closer to her body.

"I don't know what we will do now," she whispered, burying her head against her son's body. "We will always manage somehow." Aladdin's cries were muffled against her shoulder, but she felt them reverberate throughout her body, unsure whether they were his, or her own repressed sobs. She had to be strong for them. It was for the best. She pulled away, realizing she was probably smothering the child, and smiled weakly at him.

"We'll be alright, little man," she promised, rocking him. "I promise you. We'll be fine. I'm going to make sure you grow up to be an even finer man than your father. Won't it be a surprise when he comes back, and sees you? Hmm?"

Aladdin's cries did not trail off at this reassurance, and she hurried to feed him. She didn't look at her marital bed, nor back out the window towards the grey shadow, that paused and looked back towards the city. Alima rocked her son and sang a lullaby. No matter how hard it was, she'd raise their son into a great man. She would be strong for him.

For the both of them.

* * *

"Aladdin!" cried Alima, dropping the shirt she'd been sewing on the floor. "What on earth happened?"

"Nothing," said Aladdin, wiping a thin trickle of blood out of his eyes.

"Nothing? For Allah's sake…" she muttered, rushing to dab the blood with the corner of her dress. "Was it those boys again?" Aladdin's expression darkened. Alima sighed. "You shouldn't fight them, Aladdin."

"I had to fight them!" he burst out savagely. "They were just asking for it-"

"Yes, they were! Aladdin, don't you see, they want you to fight you! They know they're bigger than you are-"

"I can still take them," said Aladdin, ducking his head defiantly from Alima's hands. "They're not so tough."

"Aladdin, please," said Alima quietly. He paused and looked up at her quiet face, and frowned.

"What is it?"

Alima did not reply. How could she tell him? How could she explain? She didn't even know for sure what was wrong, and couldn't afford to see a doctor who could tell her. She only knew as strongly as she knew that her husband was dead, that her strength was trickling away from her, sand flowing back into the desert.

"Mom?"  A gentle touch grazed her hand. Aladdin squeezed her fingers, his head tilted to one side and Alima smiled at him, smoothing his hair with her hand.

"Things are going to have to change," she whispered. "You're better than those boys, Aladdin. You don't need to fight. You can walk away."

"They'll laugh at me."

"So? Do you care what they think? They're nothing, Aladdin, just silly little boys." She took hold of his arms and stared pleadingly into his eyes. "You're better than they are." She smiled. "So much better." Aladdin said nothing, but looked at his feet. Alima sniffed and pressed her forehead against his.

"Break," she murmured, "every habit you mistake for being strong. Don't destroy the little boy inside, who hides behind your strength."

"I have to protect our family," murmured Aladdin, and for an instant, he looked so much like his late father that Alima held her breath. It was incredible; he'd never known his father, but somehow there was so much of Cassim within him that it made Alima want to smile and cry, reliving the night Cassim had left over and over in her mind.

If she'd stayed awake… If she'd woken before Cassim had left, maybe she would have persuaded him to stay. Maybe he'd still be alive and with them, and Aladdin would have no need to protect their little family.

Alima smiled, and touched Aladdin's cheek which was blossoming like purple and blue flower. She tried to be gentle but he still winced. She quickly found an old rag and dipped it in a cool jug of water. "All the rules are gonna change now," she sang quietly, cleaning the cut on his forehead, "all the little things seem strange now." She dropped her hands and cupped his face. "I need you to be strong now, Aladdin. I'm… I'm not well."

"What's wrong?" asked Aladdin in alarm, his brown eyes opening wider.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "but you don't need to worry. I'll get better. I mean it," she added, seeing that Aladdin's expression did not change in the slightest. "I'll never leave you. Never. And you can count on that." She smiled at him and slowly, Aladdin's face cleared. "Now," she said briskly, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. "Go wash your hands, little man."

"I'm not so little," said Aladdin but he ran out the door to the little courtyard outside their house in the little fountain there. Alima stood for a moment, wiping her hands absently on a cloth and watched him. Her little man. He was right – he wasn't so little anymore. Her Aladdin had seen and been through all too much at too young an age. And it hadn't corrupted him. He had his father's confident, almost arrogant nature, but there was something underneath that. Something strong and unbreakable.

He has a good heart, she thought and felt comforted. Nothing could break that, she was certain. Even if she… even if her strength did fail, and he was left all alone, he'd make it.

"I'm scared," she whispered, watching as her son politely made room for a woman and her daughter at the fountain, "and when I can't be strong for us, I'll know my angel always was so brave." She smiled at Aladdin as he smiled at the little girl next to him. The little girl giggled and tugged on her mother's dress. A man appeared in the courtyard and called for his wife and child. The woman nodded at Aladdin and took the little girl's hand as she giggled.

That should have been us, thought Alima, her throat tight. I should never have let him go. I should have made him stay. We need a father and husband.

She gave herself a little shake and went to prepare the evening meal as Aladdin trotted back into the room and without a word, started to lay the table with plates. Alima smiled as she went into the kitchen.

"You've been so well behaved. You never lost your faith." She glanced down at the ring on her left hand. Cassim would be proud of his son, if only he could see him… She sent a silent prayer to Allah to keep her love safe, wherever he was in Allah's great kingdom. She shut her eyes and remembered the night Cassim had left, remembered how empty the room had felt.

"And if I could," she murmured, "erase that night I would. If I could take," she glanced around the room, with its meager furnishings and the bright little boy in the centre of it all, "these agonies away, I'd send them into space to tell your daddy, mommy's little man has been so brave."

"Mom? Do you need a hand?"

Alima slammed the dishes she'd been holding back onto the work surface. Aladdin jumped, and looked more than a little alarmed when she seized his arms tightly.

"I'm proud of you, Aladdin," she said fiercely, "and don't you ever forget it. I'm proud of you."

* * *

She'd been dead for years now. Aladdin no longer lived in their little house, with the little courtyard outside it. He wasn't even sure what district of Agrabah it was in anymore. After she had gone, he'd wandered for days, maybe even months, numb with the shock of being alone. He'd been angry, so very angry with her. She'd always promised that she'd be there. Always. She'd lied. The world was full of liars and cheats and thieves; he'd known that ever since he'd been young, so why did he think that his own mother was different? She'd known that she was sick. She'd lied to herself.

She was no different to anyone else.

And then sometimes, on cold, clear nights, when the stars in the desert far outshone the lights of the city, he thought he could hear her voice whisper to him. She told him that she loved him, that she'd never really left. She was proud of him, even though he was nothing but a street rat. She told him he was more than that, that he had an incredible destiny in front of him. That one day his story would be told to generations to come, and people from all over the world would listen, and take comfort. Because no matter how hard and cold the world was, nothing could break a strong heart.

And so Aladdin moved into a dingy little hovel in the Old Town of Agrabah, and every night he watched the palace and dreamt of the time when his life would fall into place. And sometimes, if he listened hard, he could just hear his mother's voice, singing from the stars.

I don't know what we will do now

We will always manage somehow

You're scared, and even after all you've seen
My little man has always been
So brave
You've been so well behaved
You never lost your faith
And if I could erase that night I would
If I could take these agonies away
I'd send them into space
To tell your daddy
Mommy's little man has been so brave


~*~