When Jasmine hopped back over the palace walls the next morning it was Jafar who caught her in the act.
"And just where have you been, young lady?" he asked, tapping his foot expectantly. He glared at her with his arms crossed against his chest. His snake staff stared accusingly at her. Jasmine's breath hitched in her throat. This was the first time his appearance had stirred something within the depths of her soul.
"It's none of your business," she managed to sneer as she righted herself and walked past him with head held high. He grabbed her by the arm and paid no heed to her threats while he dragged her to meet with her father.
Jasmine complained to her father about Jafar's behavior and Jafar complained to the Sultan about Jasmine's disrespect.
"She should not go into the city alone at night," Jafar argued. "She knows nothing about the world and needs to be properly escorted if she insists on patronizing with ruffians."
"You have no say in what I do and I resent the fact you think you can order me around!" Jasmine shouted at Jafar. "And for your information, he's not a ruffian!"
Jafar paused in surprise at her admission and looked to the Sultan for confirmation, but the simple-minded man merely bounced in his chair in anxiety as he always did when the Princess and the Grand Vizier could not get along.
"And does this not-ruffian have a name?" Jafar asked sinisterly. The Sultan perked up, now realizing the implication.
Jasmine, irritated with herself for the stupid slip-up, looked away in guilt. She knew that a lie would not help her here. "Aladdin."
"Has he sullied…?" the Sultan stuttered, afraid of the answer.
"Of course not, father." Jasmine rolled her eyes at him. "But we are in love and he is the one I want to marry."
"Absolutely not," Jafar spat. "You must marry a prince as the law states."
"I will marry him and you cannot stop me!" Jasmine yelled back like the nineteen-year-old girl she is. "Love will always win!"
Jafar merely sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose with his long fingers as she stormed out of the room. She was certainly headstrong but he was sure she would eventually learn she cannot always get her way.
Three days later and Jafar thought he might have been imprisoned in a nightmare.
"What?" he cried out in astonishment as the Sultan, the princess and the dirty looking homeless boy with the handsome face all eyed him after divulging the news.
"It turns out Aladdin's father is the king of thieves," the Sultan announced in glee, "which means Aladdin is a prince."
"Your highness, you do realize that the king of thieves is not an official title and therefore he is not a lawful prince," Jafar rationalized.
"Nonsense, Jafar," the Sultan dismissed with a wave of his tiny, fat hand. "I am satisfied that Jasmine has found her prince and that's all there is to it."
"But your majesty," Jafar began to panic, "this is a boy who lived on the streets. He has no formal education to speak of and he comes with no land, wealth or political gain. It would be unwise to sanction this marriage."
Aladdin then deigned to speak as though he owned the place. "Don't worry, Jafar." His unwarranted arrogance quickly placed him on Jafar's list of despicable people. "I happen to be a quick learner and know a thing or two. Let's just say I graduated at the top of my class in street smarts."
"That's not a thing," Jafar scoffed. "This boy has literally no education and you're offering to make him the next sultan? What does he know about ruling a kingdom? Knowing how to steal without getting his hand chopped off doesn't make it on the index of transferable skills."
"Father," Jasmine said, coming to the Sultan and snuggling his arm manipulatively. "Aladdin is the man I'm going to marry. Would you really deny me that happiness?"
"No, of course not, my dear."
"You are making a big mistake, your highness," Jafar decreed. "The point of having a prince - a real prince - is to obtain an heir with the highest education available, who has been bred to rule a kingdom and so that the people do not revolt against the crown for betraying their trust. A peasant does not command trust."
"Were you not born a peasant?" Jasmine sniped. She seemed to know that he was and he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.
"Yes, but I have worked for years to learn the politics of this kingdom and my advanced intelligence lends credence to my position. By the time I was this boy's age, I had already graduated at the top of my class from a real academia. I must reiterate; street smarts is not all that smart."
"You, of all people, should rejoice in a peasa-…I mean, someone who was not born into wealth becoming sultan," Jasmine declared. "I should have known you would be such a bigot."
"I resent that," Jafar seethed. "I am doing everything I can to provide education and housing for all those struggling but it's become increasingly difficult when my schedule is full with other problems to solve. In fact, we are wasting time discussing your future husband when there are more important matters. People need jobs right now."
"Well, then. Perhaps we should find a better vizier," Jasmine antagonized.
"What other viziers?" he shouted, losing his hard-fought patience. "I have been begging for more advisers on this council but do you see any? Look around you, princess, I am the one doing all the work!"
"Stop your incessant shouting," the Sultan finally piped in. "If this is the boy Jasmine wishes to marry, then so be it."
"But your highness-…"
"No buts, Jafar. Get used to it."
Jafar stewed in his resentment as the Sultan, the princess and the street rat all walked past him in a line of increasing smugness. Last was Jasmine who looked up at Jafar and shot him a defiant grin. He grit his teeth and returned a smoldering, hateful glare.
The wedding was extravagant and the only person not visibly cheerful was the Grand Vizier who stood in a darkened corner watching the celebratory festivities out on the balcony. The young homeless boy, Aladdin, now a prince, was happily waving to the crowd as though he had earned his right to the throne. Jasmine stood beside him, throwing kisses down to the citizens. She glanced behind her and sought out Jafar. He caught her gaze and looked away bitterly. He could feel her self-satisfied smile from where he seethed quietly in his darkened corner.
A servant girl greeted him with a tray of champagne flutes.
"Champagne for the royal vizier?" she asked him, bowing low.
"No. Thank you," he said in a growl, barely able to maintain politesse.
She stepped closer to him and spoke in a low tone. "Perhaps there is something else that his lordship desires?"
He paused to assess her for a moment.
"Nine o'clock," he told her. His answer brought a suppressed smile to her lips and she bowed low then went back to her task of providing champagne for the guests.
It is common knowledge around the palace that Jafar is a good fuck. For years he has cultivated the rumor by actually being exceptional in bed. In the beginning, as a young clerk, he had to put some effort into enticing a young woman to sleep with him. Now that his reputation has been established, he is often propositioned by women wishing to test the theory for themselves.
Currently, it was his only method of stress relief. When the servant girl left his chambers just past midnight with a happy jaunt to her step, he leaned back into his bed, naked and uplifted. Another happy customer, he thought.
He soon got out of bed and dressed lightly, wishing to practice his sorcery, which would sometimes go neglected since he was the hardest working man in the kingdom. He sat on the floor and meditated, projecting his mind around the palace.
Jafar didn't need palace spies like Jasmine did to know what was going on. He was well aware of her network of sneaky servants and managed to avoid them much to Jasmine's dismay. He sailed his mind around the halls and happened to find the servant girl as she strolled blissfully towards the kitchens.
"There she is," a larger, older woman said as she noticed the girl enter the room. She looked quite familiar to him. "And how was he?"
"Amazing!" the girl replied as she swooned. She launched into the whole evening with more detail than Jafar was comfortable with but her words boosted his already high self-esteem and, though it was difficult, he wrenched himself from the conversation so that he could do more spying.
Most people were asleep at that time of night but he noticed a light on in Aladdin and Jasmine's room. He peeked inside to find the new prince passed out naked on the bed, snoring with the timbre of a cranky camel. Jasmine, barely clothed, prodded him over and over again but the young man was too far gone to be woken. Jafar chuckled that their wedding night could not be consummated, much to the princess' chagrin.
There was nothing of interest going on around the palace so he stood and took up his staff then practiced conjuring ice or fire at will.
The wedding was everything Jasmine had dreamed of up until the point Aladdin carried her across the threshold. Or rather, she pulled him across, his arm slung around her shoulder as she managed to haul him to the bed and slump him onto it. It made sense that Aladdin had never had alcohol before and had no idea how to be moderate with it. Still, she was determined to make the best of the night.
"Aladdin," she cooed, "it's time for you to show me the kind of man you are."
"Fuck, yeah," he slurred from the depths of his inebriation. He had just enough awareness to sluggishly take off his clothes and leer at her salaciously with his glazed over pupils before his eyes rolled back into his head and he was passed out before his body had completely collapsed onto the bed.
Jasmine eyed him quizzically, pointing her index finger into his chest and then going for the full shake after her attempts to wake him were met with louder snores. It was no use.
Jasmine sighed and put on a robe then walked out onto the balcony. She gazed up at the myriad of stars in the night sky, and for the first time, felt a tinge of soured doubt buried within her stomach. Her thoughts turned to the spectacular events of the day. She was well aware that her favorite memories should have been the happy moments. The priest declaring them married. The dancing and merriment with the guests. The cheer of the crowd as they waved from the balcony. None of that mattered to her at the moment. What was at the forefront of her mind was the memory of Jafar's brooding face throughout the occasion. The doubt was closed off by the swelling delight over the fact that she had effected his mood down to that level.
She thought about waiting till the morning but she had a raging need to know so she rang for her most trusted servant. The large woman from the kitchen was at her door within minutes.
"Any news?" Jasmine asked her.
"His movements have been accounted for all day. He was at the wedding in the morning and retired to his quarters in the evening," the kitchen maid answered.
"Nothing else?" Jasmine pressed, hoping for more than just a vague report.
"Well," the kitchen maid seemed hesitant to reply, "one of the servant girls was in his room for three hours."
Jasmine felt the sourness in her stomach return in full force, this time much more acidic.
"And what did she say about him?" Her voice had turned grim.
"She didn't say much."
"Tell me what she said," the princess demanded through gritted teeth. "Did she enjoy him?"
The kitchen maid thought about lying but that would only serve to make the princess more inquisitive. She pursed her lips with a look of fear before finally responding.
"Yes, she did."
Jasmine paused in her fury then waved a hand to dismiss the kitchen maid. "Fine. Go."
The maid disappeared and Jasmine regretted asking so late in the night. It would be difficult to sleep now knowing the Grand Vizier had a better night than she did.
Two years passed and there was no royal baby for the newlyweds to speak of. It was expected that Jasmine would be with child by now in order to perpetuate the royal line, but every month Jafar could sense the increasing disappointment of her eventual menses.
As Jafar had predicted, Aladdin was not living up to expectations. He was offered a crash course in history and politics, bypassing any economic or strategy studies, but even with the light load, there wasn't much delivered from the twenty-four-year old with such a poor upbringing. It was clear that Aladdin could sense the disappointment from all aspects of the kingdom, including his wife, and to counter it he decided he would publicly downplay the importance of education and encourage the practicality of 'street smarts.' Jasmine doubled down on his efforts, not wanting to look foolish for her choice in a spouse.
Behind closed doors, Jafar was well aware of the fall of their relationship and he reveled in it. To see her having to publicly fight tooth and nail for someone in whom her faith was faltering, bemused his wicked glee. All that impulsive behavior was coming back to bite her in the ass. It was glorious.
In the meantime, because of the dubious future of the kingdom in the hands of Aladdin, Jafar began preparing for the worst. He was hard at work making sure he found the best people in the kingdom to carry through the upcoming years when Aladdin held the reins. Sorcery couldn't help him predict the future but it had a way of pinpointing who best to take command. The hardest part was getting the resources.
By smuggling a few rare gems out of the treasury and supplying himself with blood from all sorts of animals, including a few pints of his own, Jafar snuck down to his secret laboratory and searched his tomes for the enchantments he needed. For three hours he holed himself in his secret room, producing electricity from a source of water that spun a large wheel fast enough to generate sparks. Conjuring an image of a professor lecturing inside the university of Agrabah, Jafar learned the name of his next economic director. In great relief, Jafar powered down his lab.
Going back to the secret door, he held his hand up against the wall and closed his eyes. Sweeping his mind past the exterior of the wall, Jafar looked around to see if there was anyone around to witness him slip out from the entrance to his secret lab.
Jasmine
He was jarred to see her sitting on a couch, pretending to read a book, but she was more focused on the walls of the room. It was disconcerting. He decided it would be best to simply materialize himself back into his quarters, considering she didn't look to be moving anytime soon.
Transporting oneself from one location to another took an expert sorcerer's skill. It required a surprising amount of energy and focus, which is why he didn't do it very often. He materialized back in his room and felt the weight of his body transfer from the air onto the floor like each particle of his flesh was suddenly laden with iron. Shaking out the feeling, Jafar walked out his chamber door as soon as he was ready. He headed to the library to gather more information about the man in the image.
The next day Jafar went to visit the man, and finding he was a congenial and intuitive person decided he would be an excellent candidate. The professor was interested in the idea of becoming a director and Jafar told him to be prepared for a nomination as the current economic director was in poor health. In truth, the current director was perfectly fine though performing below the Grand Vizier's standards and Jafar had ways of accelerating his goals.
After a week of gathering more resources, Jafar went back to his lab to carry out his plan. Using gold and silver taken from the treasury and the heart of a sick goat, Jafar formed a spell that transferred the ailments of the heart into the current economic director's. Jafar was unable to witness the director suddenly clutch his chest while eating dinner with the Sultan and his son-in-law. Later, it would give Jafar some pleasure to hear.
At the moment, Jafar was at the entrance to his lair, projecting his mind outside of it and finding the princess was back on the couch. This time she didn't even pretend to have any reason to be in the room. She stared at the walls expectantly and Jafar felt the sinking in his gut that she would eventually become more than just a nuisance. He materialized back in his quarters to avoid her entirely.
It took three days for the economic director to die of a weak heart. As soon as Jafar received news of his death, he called in the professor and arranged for him to have employment among the council. He was later approached by his favorite bathhouse servant and he ended the happy day with a stress relieving fuck in the sauna.
The next morning brought an abrupt end to his contentment.
"You dismissed my economic director?" Jafar had to use every ounce of his control not to strangle the fat sultan. If it wasn't for the fact the entire council, including Aladdin and Jasmine, were sitting at the table, he might have done so.
"He was not suited for the position," the Sultan replied dismissively. "Instead, my third cousin, twice removed will make an excellent director."
"With all due respect, your highness, I hand picked the professor myself. A lot of thought and research went into his nomination and I readily promoted his service to this board."
"Nonsense, Jafar," the Sultan said lackadaisically. "My cousin comes highly recommended. He's family and family comes first."
"Recommended by who? Your cousin was literally sitting in prison yesterday. For murder! I don't think it is wise to promote him to the council."
"Oh, you always say things like that," the Sultan laughed. Jafar felt the boil of blood rise to his face. "You always complain about not having enough advisers, and then when I give you one you complain that he's not good enough."
"First of all, you have no other advisers. I am the only one," Jafar lowered his voice in an attempt to explain to a child. He was well aware of the rest of the board staring at him like he was the one who had lost his marbles. "Second, we're filling a director position. I already found a director. He is a professor of economics. Your cousin has absolutely zero experience in both an economic field and a leadership position. I must caution that he will not make good use of his role."
"No more complaining, Jafar or I will make do with no advisers," the Sultan replied, covering his ears with his hands. It was insulting to be treated like an irritating commotion, but Jafar could do nothing but cease his lamenting. He was barely keeping the kingdom held together, and without him he was sure it would fall apart. "Now then," the Sultan began, clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously, "let's discuss money. I'd like to increase the budget to the improvement to the royal palace. I've heard great things about something called a 'zoo'…"
The meeting was just as ineffective as previous ones had always been. The Sultan would suggest something ludicrous that would take away funds that could be diverted to helping the homeless or supplementing the farmers. Jafar would say no, the Sultan would tell him to make it happen and then Jafar would have to pretend to agree while secretly going against the Sultan's wishes behind his back and hoping in time the fat, little man would forget he ever asked. With the advent of a new director that was distantly related to the Sultan, Jafar would have less power to carry through his plans without someone questioning him about it. He planned for the death of the new economic director before the meeting was adjourned.
He was apparently too invested in his scheming to realize the meeting had commenced and everyone was filing out of the room. He was still downtrodden by the news and moved slowly to gather his things. He thought he was the last person to leave but was suddenly aware of a presence beside him and huffed in annoyance when he realized who it was.
"What do you want?" he grumbled as he set out to leave. Jasmine blocked his path and he stopped short in front of her with a mean glare.
"Life would be easier for you if you simply complied with my father's wishes," she replied. It had been a while since he had been in her presence and he was surprised to find she looked different somehow. He wasn't sure what it was since her physical appearance hadn't changed at all, but if there was an adjective he could find best to describe the difference, his mind would have jumped to womanly.
"Life for everyone else would be worse, though," he ascertained. "I am not here to benefit your father. I have a responsibility to strengthen Agrabah in a way that will benefit everyone. Your father's ideas contradict my purpose."
"What do you hope to achieve?" Jasmine responded haughtily. "You clearly think yourself a savior. Exactly who is it you're trying to save?"
"Everyone," Jafar snarled.
"The poor?"
"Yes."
"The children?"
"Yes."
"The homeless?"
"Of, course."
"Like Aladdin?"
Jafar rolled his eyes. "Aladdin is a prince. He has a home. You give yourself too much credit as a champion for the homeless when you have housed one man out of your own selfish desire to get rutted by the most inappropriate specimen you could find as a rebellious attempt to dishonor the crown."
He saw the assault coming but stood as a stone statue when her palm slapped hard across his left cheek.
"How dare you speak about your future king so disrespectfully!" she cried out.
"He is no king," Jafar spat. "He's just a street rat dressed in fine clothes."
"Aladdin wants what's best for the people. He has a good heart, unlike that black shriveled mass of stone settled beneath your ribs."
"This black-hearted man is doing everything he can to fulfill every citizen in the land. A good heart does not mean he will make a good leader. Everything about him indicates he will make an atrocious sultan."
"What delusional indicators are you seeing? Aladdin is a good man. He will do his best to ensure Agrabah prospers."
"How? He has no idea how to even solve a simple housing problem. He couldn't even pull himself out of poverty like I did. Heart is not the solution. This kingdom needs more brains."
"Intelligence is overrated if the administrator can't find a way to be effective."
"I am being blocked at every corner. Your father wants a damned zoo. This is the bullshit I have to deal with everyday when I should be focusing on real matters."
"You would get more done if you weren't such a ruthless, vicious asshole. At least everyone likes Aladdin. You have enemies everywhere."
"Good. I want to make an enemy out of anyone who selfishly covets riches for themselves. I couldn't care less if everyone hates me. So long as I win the trust and respect of the people, then I will have done my job well."
"You mock those that covet riches and yet you're the one who desperately covets power. Your jealousy reeks upon you."
"Jealous? Me?" Jafar exclaimed, pointing a finger to his own chest. "I could never be jealous of a brain-dead boy that has extreme difficulty commanding respect among the citizens or siring a son." He gave her a once over look of disgust and knew better to continue, but did anyway because he was too angry to rein in his behavior. "But I'll give him lenience to the last one considering he has to sleep with you to do it."
She raised her hand to him again but this time he caught her wrist in his long fingers and easily deflected the slap. She irately tried to wrench her hand out of his grasp, but he pulled her near to him to deliver a harsh whisper in her ear.
"Do not toy with me, princess," he rasped. "I will always have more power over your ruffian husband." He hadn't realized how he had pressed her body to his in an attempt to control her from breaking free.
He allowed Jasmine to pull out of his grip with a hard yank. She eyed him fiercely, her chest heaving as she stood and stared at him with venom in her glare. Jafar realized after a moment that his own composition mirrored hers. There was a heat between them that grew hotter with every passing second.
Finally, Jasmine spun on her heel and charged out of the room. Jafar breathed out heavily, his body slightly relaxing after the intensity. He paused for a moment, deep in thought. There was a servant woman in the gardens that often approached him with a bold appetite. Perhaps she would make herself available to him.
While Jafar went to attend to his needs, Jasmine stomped to her room and flung herself on the bed. There was no one who pissed her off more than the Grand Vizier.
Another fight lost. She had a way of winning some of the battles but it was clear that without pulling some low punches, she would most definitely lose the war. God, she hated that man. She hated his menacing, permanent scowl, she hated his ability to avoid public disgrace, she hated his weirdly expressive eyebrows, she hated his stupid twisty beard. She hated him so much that the mere mention of his name sent a surge of emotional turmoil throughout her body. She hated that it was the only thing that made her feel alive.
The worst part about it all was that as the years passed she had begun to realize that he was not wrong. She would never admit that he was right, at least she didn't believe she could, but listening to her father talk about building a zoo when she knew full well that the towns on the outskirts of the kingdom's borders were starving seemed like a malicious act of ignorance. But just the idea of agreeing with the vizier made her cringe in disgust.
She had approached him after the meeting because she couldn't stop herself from doing so. To be alone in a room with Jafar was like standing in a locked cage with a starving tiger. It was both frightening and so terribly thrilling. She clenched her fist, the same hand that he had grasped and looked at it keenly. She could still feel the trails of his fingers tingling in her skin. She looked at the palm where she had slapped him across his evil face; a face that was probably not touched very often. She hoped she slapped him hard enough that the sting of it lasted so long he was reminded of her every second of the following days.
The sound of the door opening caused her to glance over and see Aladdin coming in carrying a large book in his hand.
"Jasmine," he said upon seeing her, "I'm glad you're here. I need help." He jumped onto the bed beside her and thumped the book next to her head. His insatiable energy and upbeat charm was infuriating.
She took one look at it and sighed.
"It says A Brief Political History of the 28 Original Laws of Agrabah," she replied. "You wouldn't need me if you would just learn to read."
"I told you, reading is too hard," he returned with no shame. "Besides, I have gotten by my whole life without reading. When I am sultan, I'll have people that read for me. Why bother wasting the time? Which reminds me…"
"You need me to tell you what the laws are."
"When you've got a second, that'd be great, thanks babe!" he answered cheerfully as he got to his feet and started bounding on the bed. After two years, he still had not gotten over the fun of it.
Jasmine scowled into her pillow as he jumped and made flailing motions when he got too high, shouting 'whoopee!' as he did so. Suddenly the jumping ceased and she felt a hand at the small of her back.
"Hey, just so you know, I'm ready to make a baby when you are."
What he meant was that he wanted to have sex but this was his way of being sensitive to her needs. The first months of their marriage had been constant sex as young lovers are want to do but as the year went by Jasmine was disheartened that she was not with child. Her interest in sex waned relatively early because she found the act of copulation unsatisfying and her adoration for Aladdin began to falter once she realized he was nothing more than a dumb child. She had been fooled by his good looks and endless charm and the regret compounded hourly since the night of their wedding.
"Not today," she waved him away.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I am," she muttered as she got up from the bed and headed out to the balcony. The sight of him was too much for her at the moment and she just needed to get away.
"Okay," he replied after her. "You're the one that keeps saying we gotta make an heir."
Outside in the clear air where she could be alone, Jasmine breathed in heavily and tried to force down her remorse. Damn that fucking vizier for predicting Aladdin's ineptitude. It killed her inside that there were no words of his she could throw back at him in insult.
She looked down at the gardens and noted the unmistakable stature of the Grand Vizier walking around the fountains towards the group of servants tending to the flowers. She watched him carefully, suspicious of his motives as he approached one of the women whose smile was so bright it nearly blinded Jasmine from far away. Clenching her fists along the railing, Jasmine noticed Jafar and the woman conversing through laughing tones until the woman left with a knowing smile towards the quarters designated for top-level staff. Jafar followed soon after with a surreptitious glance around, hoping no one noticed their exchange and obvious arrangement.
I see you, Jasmine thought as she followed the Grand Vizier with her eyes. I see you and I am going to make sure you fucking see me.
The next day Jafar had a lot to do. Planning out the accidental death of the new economic adviser would require a good amount of sorcery and organization. On top of that he had to meet with the education director and then later with the treasury department head, doing so while he signed the death orders of a few murderers found guilty above a reasonable doubt. It was going to be a long day.
As soon as he found the time, he went to his chambers, enchanted an invisibility cloak around himself and then went to the entrance to his secret lab. At least this time there were no spies to inform the princess that he had gone to the room that she was clearly keeping watch over.
He rummaged through his tomes for an hour, looking for the right spell and finding it, wrote down the things he needed to perform it. Most of the ingredients he already had and the rest were easily obtainable. He was quite sure he could have an 'accident' occur within three days.
He went back up to the entrance and projected his mind beyond the wall. He cursed to find one of the princess' loyal servant spies pacing the floor in the room, not even hiding the fact he was ordered to stay there indefinitely. The servant seemed confused so at least the princess hadn't told him why he was there, just to be on the lookout for him. Jafar sighed and waved his staff around himself, feeling his body go light in the process. He had shifted himself to the air more times this month than in the past year. It was getting irritating.
While he could 'see' as an invisible cloud of de-particled atoms, it was mostly of blacks and grays and he only had a vague notion of where he was inside the palace. He was experienced and expert enough to have never failed and he certainly didn't this time as he projected himself back into his form in the middle of his chambers. It was disorienting becoming matter again and he shook the dizziness out of his head.
"Did you know that the abolition of sorcery was one of the original 28 laws of Agrabah?"
Barely back in correct form, he whipped around in complete bewilderment to the voice behind him.
"You!" Jafar accused as he glared at Jasmine who sat on the end of his bed and was reclined back on her elbows. She hardly seemed frightened. "How did you get in here?"
Please," she admonished. "I am a princess. I can go anywhere." She held up a key that dangled in her hand in response to his question. This was precisely why Jafar kept anything that could remotely be considered sorcery in his secret lab. There were no guarantees to privacy.
"You've walked into a snake pit, my dear," he told her icily, stepping closer to her so that his shadow loomed over her reclined form. "Didn't I inform you not to play games with me?" He was momentarily puzzled when she didn't seem the least bit alarmed.
"Calm down, Jafar," she said, causing him to stop in his tracks. "You don't think I've speculated it for some time? I have no intention of telling."
Jafar stood frozen in silent confusion while Jasmine rose from his bed in a way that seemed to accentuate her gracefulness. It reminded him again how she was not a girl anymore.
The anxiety of her curiously touching a finger to the head of his staff snapped him out of his stupor. "Then what is the meaning of this?" he finally asked.
"Unlike the founding fathers of Agrabah, I believe a sorcerer can be very useful to the kingdom."
"Oh?" he challenged. "You certainly didn't seem to think so yesterday when you accused me of being an unlikable asshole."
"I still maintain that you're an unlikable asshole," she replied. "And I'll add ugly to the list of adjectives reserved for you, but that doesn't mean that your talents can't be used for the greater good."
"See, this is where our ideas don't align," he said in exasperation as he put his hand to his forehead and massaged just below his hairline. "Sorcery is just a skill necessary to maintain my real power. My intellect is what I am using for the greater good. My intellect. There are plenty of sorcerer's who live their lives as the village soothsayer because they don't have the intelligence to scheme their way into something more grand."
"I'm not here to argue about your self-exaggerated sense of worth," Jasmine complained.
"Then why did you sneak into my chambers?" Jafar criticized. "Rest assured it was a fatal mistake if you intend to expose or extort me."
"I certainly don't intend to expose you. The humiliation this kingdom would suffer would last well into Aladdin's reign."
"Oh, so you are here to extort me."
"Nothing of the sort. I simply want you to do the best for Agrabah."
"That's what I want!" Jafar shouted, throwing his hands up in provocation. "But you and your stupid hereditary line make it infinitely more difficult."
"Do not call my family stupid," Jasmine pointed into his chest. "Stupid is putting the entrance of a secret room somewhere in a high traffic area."
"First of all, it was the least used room a decade ago when I installed it. Second, I am not the one who is drying up the economy with useless construction projects and ignoring the call of the minority groups who need help the most."
Don't blame me for the problems my father doles out. I have nothing to do with his ridiculous ideas."
"As I recall, you told me to comply with his wishes."
"I did no such thing! I said your life would be easier if you complied with his wishes. I did not insinuate that a zoo was, in fact, a good idea. I am offended that you would place me on an intellectual level of a man who finds it difficult to put a thirty piece puzzle together."
"If you think your father is so dumb, why are you disagreeing with me about it?"
"Once again, I did no such thing! I told you not to call my family dumb. That doesn't mean I disagree. I am simply giving you no say in the matter."
Jafar assessed her hard with brows so furrowed they almost met at the bridge of his nose.
"Generally I am not so mistaken by semantics, especially considering few even understand the meaning, however, I still maintain your family line is riddled so deep with lunacy that even you cannot escape it."
"You choose to insult me when I have discovered your magical talents and deflected your callous words? How sanctimonious of you to praise the idea of wisdom, especially your own, but not offer credit elsewhere it is due.
"Wisdom is not a trait you have successfully portrayed."
"You're a dick. Exactly how have I been a foolish burden to you?"
"Have you already forgotten your decision to bypass royal law and marry a commoner who isn't even able to recite his alphabet?"
Jasmine glared at him in surprise by his acknowledgment.
"How do you even-…?" she began but paused, not wanting to confirm it to him. "Even if you're insinuating what I think you are…"
"I'm not insinuating anything, princess."
"Aladdin has a-…"
"Yes, yes, we've been over this. He has agood heart," Jafar mocked, rolling his hand in the air to wave away her asinine claims. "I fail to see how such a good heart can do right by Agrabah when he can't even sign his name to a law."
"This is not about Aladdin," she stressed angrily. "This is about you and your illegal attempts to control the kingdom, which, by the way, is punishable by death."
"And which you seem intent on extorting," he quipped. "That makes you an accomplice, you do realize?"
"I see nothing wrong with using my knowledge to get my way, or how hypocritical do you think you can get?"
"My knowledge stands among the grandest of the land. You are nothing but a spoiled princess and it is pointless for someone like you to quarrel with the likes of me."
"You overestimate your worth and underestimate mine," she flexed her finger back into his chest. "Let's get one thing straight. You're not as clever as you think and I intend to prove it to you, even if I have to force it. There's something I want and you will help me get it."
His interest was piqued.
"What in the world is it that you think I will help you get?"
"I didn't say you could ask questions!" she snided. "Do as I tell you or I will have you replaced. You think I'm making your life hard now? Just wait. I will fight you at every turn you make. That zoo will be built tomorrow if you don't start doing as I say. You are this close to losing your grand position," she made a small gap between her thumb and index finger, "and if you so much as cause me any backlash, I will make sure my father fires you in the most humiliating way possible and then denounces you on the streets where I will then expose your sorcery, you will be stoned to death and your name will go down in history as the biggest disgrace throughout the land."
There was a raging fire in her eyes. He could tell she meant every word. For the first time in a very long time, Jafar felt a tiny spark of fear, which manifested itself in a most disturbing way. His cock grew more rigid the longer he glared back defiantly at her.
"Sometimes even princess' have ways of mysteriously disappearing," he calmly replied though his tone had never been more threatening.
"Sometimes even princess' have ways of taking revenge beyond the grave," she answered through gritted teeth. He didn't know what she meant but there was a truth behind it that kept him from retorting back. "Don't toy with me, Jafar. You don't know half the things I am capable of."
She stalked past him, purposefully knocking her shoulder into him so that he had to step out of her way. His indignant frown could not have been more pronounced as he watched her walk out of his chambers, slamming the door behind her.
His erection pulsed with the energy of a thousand suns.
