Princess Jasmine and Aladdin have become Prince Duban and Morgiana. This is the scene in the dungeon and what precedes it.

Chapter 4: A Diamond in the Rough

"JAFAR!" Prince Duban bellowed as he marched into the royal vizier's quarters, furious. He has gone too far this time! He fumed as he caught sight of his prey. The oily man in question had his back to the entrance, and, caught by surprise, startled at the roar of his name.

"Oh, uh, Highness," he whirled around and bowed dramatically, spreading his cape. "How may I be of service to you, my prince?"

Duban had never liked Jafar. The snake usually made his skin crawl just by being in the same room, and he was constantly work some kind of angle. The prince hated how much influence Jafar had over his father, and one of the first thing Duban planned to do once he was Sultan was to kick him straight out of his office, preferably out of the palace all together.

But until then, Duban had to grit his teeth and try to keep the vizier out of his business, which was harder than it sounded; Jafar seemed to delight in trying to find new ways to condescendingly kiss up to the prince.

But Duban was too angry to deal with the man's usual machinations this time, and went directly in his face.

"The guards just arrested a girl from the market," he growled, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "On your orders."

Jafar, as snobbish as ever, took on a familiar air of superiority that always made the prince want to hit him. "Your father has charged me with keeping peace in Agrabah," he sniffed. "The girl was a criminal."

Duban had to take a deep breath to control his anger at the vizier's dismissive tone. "And what, pray tell," he seethed. "Was her crime?"

Jafar shot him a look of slight confusion. "Why, aiding in the kidnapping of the prince, of course," he told him, as if it was obvious.

"Kidnap!" Duban exclaimed incredulously. "Nobody kidnapped me! I ran away!" Who in the world came up with that story? Of all the ridiculous and harebrained ideas...

"Oh dear," Jafar walked off a little in what was obviously false shock and concern. "Oh, how frightfully upsetting, had I but known!"

Duban's guard was instantly up. In all the years the prince had known him, Jafar preferred to act as if he was aware of every single thing that occurred in the kingdom. If he was pretending shock at this new information, it meant that he'd done something, and he knew Duban would not like it.

"What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"Sadly," Jafar replied with extremely false sympathy. "The girl's sentence has already been carried out."

Fear began to grow in his heart. "What sentence?"

The vizier couldn't seem to keep the sinister relish out of his voice. "Death."

The prince felt his heart stop, and his knees grew shaky. A small breath of "no," escaped.

"By beheading," Jafar added. He might as well have punched Duban in the stomach, and he couldn't help sinking down on the couch next to him.

She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. His marketplace girl — I didn't even know her name, he thought with growing despair — with the wicked grin and the kind eyes. She was barely older than he was, and had one of the sweetest and happiest natures he'd ever seen.

She barreled into his life by saving him, a complete stranger, and proceeded to understand him better than anyone in his entire life, so much better than any of those empty-headed princesses his father had paraded before him. How could she suddenly be gone?

A large bony hand clasped his shoulder in a mockery of comfort. "I am exceedingly sorry, Highness," Jafar oozed in his ear. Duban shook off the hand and whirled on him.

"How could you?" He hissed, fighting back the tears stinging his eyes. "She was just an innocent girl. How could you?!"

And how could I? He thought to himself as he finally ran out the room, the tears beginning to stream down his face. I dragged her into my mess. It's all my fault.

Down in a dungeon beneath the palace, Morgiana was chained to the wall, and wishing that she could hit herself. Repeatedly.

"The prince," she groaned to herself. "Of all the people– I must've sounded like a complete moron! Ugh." She thunked her head against the stone wall behind her. It was quiet for a few moments, until the thief heard a very familiar call. She looked up at the high window that was the only source of light to see her best friend poking his head between the bars. The monkey chattered at her what she knew to mean "Hello!" with a tip of his cap.

"Abu!" Morgiana called with a grin. "I'm down here!"

Quickly and nimbly, the monkey swung and leaped from chains and beams until he could land safely on the floor in front of his companion.

"Abu, you are a gift from Allah," she told him happily. "Can you get me out of these?" But instead of jumping eagerly to help, or at least giving her a fond eye roll, like she expected, Abu chattered angrily at her. Then he fashioned his vest around his head like a lady's hood, made his eyes big, and walked around with an exaggerated sway of his hips and cooed sappily. Then he dropped the act and shouted his annoyance at her.

Morgiana glared at him. "What was I supposed to do, let him lose his hand? He was in trouble, and I couldn't just stand by and watch! ...And I was not that bad," she added sulkily.

Abu grumbled to himself and hopped up to where her wrists were fastened to the wall. As he pulled out his lockpicks and started working on the lock, Morgiana sighed at the thought of the prince.

"If it makes you feel any better," she said glumly. "I doubt I'm ever going to see him again. I'm a street rat, remember? The law says that the prince needs an heir of royal blood. I can't give him that."

She heard a click, and her wrists were free. Abu hopped back down, looking extremely pleased with himself, but Morgiana barely noticed as she rubbed some feeling back into her wrists.

"Even if I was royalty," She murmured, now feeling more and more depressed. "What could he see in a scrawny little thing like me?" With another sad sigh, she gathered the monkey in her arms for a much-needed hug. Abu, who knew all about her low self-esteem created by her life as a thief, did his best to offer comfort.

"I'm such a fool," she groaned into his fur.

"You're only a fool if you give up, girlie," a voice sneered suddenly.

Morgiana leapt to her feet, clutching her friend tighter and hackles raised. No one, not in her entire life, had ever snuck up on her that easily.

"Who's there?" she demanded, trying to keep the sudden fear that pounded in her heart from her voice.

A skinny, hunchbacked old man with a long scraggly beard hobbled out of a shadowed section of the dungeon, and the thief was immediately suspicious. He wasn't chained up, like she had been, and the crooked-teeth grin on his face made her skin crawl.

"A lowly prisoner, like yourself," he rasped, and Morgiana had to bite her tongue to keep herself from replying with Sure you are. "But together," he added with a leer. "Perhaps we could be more."

She stiffened, and she could feel the monkey in her arms do the same. They both know what that could mean, for she'd been made similar offers in the past. She had said no to them before, and she'd be damned if she changed her answer now. Especially for this old pervert.

"Not a chance, creep," She snapped with a furious glare and a step back. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying." Abu also shrieked his thoughts on the idea.

The old man frowned at their less than enthusiastic response. "But there is a cave," he urged. "A cave of wonders! Filled with treasures beyond your wildest dreams!" Before the thief could say anything in response, the old man reached into his rags and pulled out a handful of rubies, shoving them in her face.

Her anger and distrust took a backseat as Morgiana stared in awe at the gems — good grief, were they glowing? They were stunning, and she would freely admit that her weakness for shiny expensive objects was a small part of the reason she was a thief. Hearing Abu's admiring tones as well, she couldn't help reaching a hand out to touch.

But the old man snatch them away and put them back in his rags. Over his shoulder he added to his last statement, "Treasure enough to impress even that prince of yours, I'd wager."

She hadn't thought about that. Morgiana bit her lip. A heap of treasure would almost definitely give her more of a chance with Prince Duban. However...

"But," she began uncertainly. "The law says that the prince needs a royal heir–"

"You've heard of the Golden Rule, haven't you girl?" he interrupted, pushing his face close to hers. "Whoever has the gold makes the rules." He grinned, showing hideously bad teeth.

Well that was certainly true. When Morgiana thought about it, the old man did have a point. But she wished for the love of Allah that he'd get out of her face, because he also had terrible breath.

She sidestepped away, the monkey in her arms climbing to her shoulders, when a thought occurred to her.

"Wait," she eyed him suspiciously. "Why share all this wonderful wealth with me?" She knew the rules of the streets; an offer like this most often came with a price.

"I need a young thing like you," he told her. "Someone with strong legs and a good back, to go in after it." Morgiana felt slightly harassed when he tapped the inside of her legs with his cane and patted her back to accentuate his point. She was glad when he scampered back to the corner he'd been hiding in before.

As crazy and creepy as he seemed, everything the old man talked about did make sense. He'd lead the way, she'd do the grunt work, and they both walked away rich. Only one detail missing.

"Just one problem," she told him sardonically. "If you haven't noticed, it's out there; we're in here. The guards aren't just going to let us walk out quietly."

The old man just tutted at her. "Things aren't always what they seem." Looking smug, he pushed on the wall next to him with his cane. To her surprise, a section of the wall gave way to a secret tunnel, light shining at the other end.

"So," he drawled, catching her attention again. "Do we have a deal?"

Worrying her lip again, Morgiana glanced at the monkey on her shoulders. Abu just shrugged, indicating that the decision was hers.

On the one hand, they'd be free of the dungeons. On the other hand, something really didn't sit right with her about the old man, and she did not want to spend more time than she had to with him. To be perfectly honest, the whole thing smelled a little fishy.

But on the other hand, there was treasure waiting on the other end of this endeavor. And with that treasure, came the possibility of gaining Duban's heart. Was it really worth the risk?

With a deep breath, Morgiana turned to the old man, waiting with a hand outstretched, with her decision.

I hope you enjoyed! Please, don't hesitate to ask questions or leave a comment/critique. I love hearing from people.