"If you are the kind of man I think you are, you'll listen to me."

Koumei walks in silently, feet making no noise as he lists slightly to one side, eluding a trap wire as easily as if he'd leaned over because he couldn't bear to stay upright. The belladonna has been clear from his system for days, though it had done wonders for his skin and eyes while it lasted, which was a nice change. Days of being without Kouha, propelled to the front of national consciousness with the news (spread far and wide, that witch) of his impending marriage to his cousin, however, had taken a toll, and he's as sallow as ever, dark circles under his eyes. He leans back against the inside of the closed door of Ja'far's room, hands folded into his sleeves, dark eyes hooded as he watches the man intently.

Three days in a dungeon for your supposedly beloved master. A week for En. What are you still doing here when you have no strings left to pull, except that you're waiting for something?

"So, do I have your attention?"

Ja'far barely spares him a lifting of his head, though a deft flick of his wrist rolls up the scroll in his lap in short order. It's nigh impossible not to fret, though he thinks he's keeping the expression from his face well enough. Days, since Judal threw Sinbad to the dungeons on a whim, and he still hasn't had any luck at gaining access to Magnoshutatt's captured magicians, himself. "I'm not certain what sort of man you think I am, but I doubt it's anything good," he dryly replies, eyes lidded when he finally does lift his gaze. "Oh, congratulations on your marriage, by the way, Your Highness."

"My thanks. And for the rest of it, disregarding what I feel about you personally, I at least think you're a shrewd man, and not one to throw away an opportunity." Don't sit down, Mei. You can do it, just stand up for like, five minutes. Ugh, it's been a long time since breakfast, Kouha didn't look good…

"Are you as good as my brother seems to think you are?"

An eyebrow raises. "I've been told I'm good at a great many things." This is a new one. Whatever job Koumei is trying to enlist him into is probably nothing he wants a part of, though. "Unfortunately, I'm a bit expensive, or so I've been told."

"I can pay."

This must be one hell of a job. Ja'far wonders how awful of a person he's allowed to be, if it involves freeing Kouen from the dungeons. He'd sooner sneak down there and snatch Sinbad up and leave Kouen to rot instead. "Really. Then let's hear about it already."

Koumei starts to slump down onto a chair, and catches himself at the last second, asking as evenly as he can, "Can you kill a witch?"

Oh.

Well.

Didn't quite see that one coming.

"… You definitely can't afford what that would cost," Ja'far dismissively retorts, turning away with a shake of his head.

"Not a king and a country?" Koumei's voice is quiet, but it carries, his own magic spilling out not over Ja'far, but to be certain no spells are listening. There could always be physical ears, of course, and that's why he's ever more vigilant.

"You misunderstand me. I'm an assassin, and my loyalties can be quite fluid." Ja'far offers him a light shrug. "A shame Kouen has gotten himself imprisoned. We did work well together."

"Of course." Koumei crosses his arms over his chest. "Of course, you're ever so loyal to my brother. Never mind my offer, then. And when you wrest your king from his dungeons, no matter what you have in mind, bear it always at the back of your thoughts that even if Judal was the one who found the secret to sinking your island, he's not the only one capable of it."

Ja'far's stare is bland, no matter how his heart thuds a little faster within his chest. "My island? Try again. My connections to Sindria have long been severed, save for my authority over her people."

Koumei lets out a huff of laugher, cruel and cold and dismissive. "Fine, then. Keep up your act, and let your king find out what delights are in store for him tonight and tomorrow. I've gotten a sampling of the menu, it's….well, if he were faint of heart he'd never have become king, would he?" He shrugs, opening the door. "Never mind, then."

Damn it.

How this one figured out that he and Sinbad are still connected is beyond him, but Ja'far supposes if anyone were to do it, it would be Koumei. "You can guarantee nothing," he shortly retorts before Koumei can leave. "How, exactly, do you intend to render payment when she's watching you all hours of the day and night?"

"She won't be watching me," Koumei says easily, shutting the door again, "when she's dead. I'm not alone in this offer. I do have the power to give you not only your king back, but the country you two love so much as well."

"Your word isn't good enough," Ja'far bluntly replies. "Out of the dungeons tonight, and I'll actually start planning."

"What about Ei's word?" Koumei asks, raising an eyebrow. "She seems to think she owes your king some kind of debt. I don't really care, but she seems highly intent on repaying it. Should I tell her her word isn't good enough for you?"

"By all means, tell her. No one's word in this empire is good enough unless accompanied by results. For such a large empire, your success rate for such things is abysmally low."

Koumei's jaw tightens. "What about your word? You've never done a thing for me, and I've never seen you carry out a kill. How do I know you haven't gone soft, or incompetent?"

Oh, that's worthy of an eye roll. "Do you really think it doesn't benefit me to kill that witch, aside from Sinbad's freedom? That being said, if you want proof of my skills, I can always test them on your little brother. I don't have enough fingers to count his openings."

There's a dagger in Koumei's hand before he realizes he's moved, and he takes a deep breath, returning it to its sheathe, cursing his obvious reaction. "Where will you keep him, if I free him from the dungeons tonight?"

Ja'far tilts his head back, thinking. "The magicians captured from Magnoshutatt have yet to be handed out, correct? Throw him with them. If you think I don't have my own men watching there, you're wrong. If someone does ask, say it's an order and he's to be sold as a statement against Sindria. Anyone that could give such an order will be dead soon enough anyway, and Judal won't have time to argue about it."

Koumei narrows his eyes. "Don't tell me what to say, I can handle my own guards. And Judal, if that comes down to it. But it would still be in your best interests to work quickly." Slowly, he holds out his hand. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you can handle them just fine," Ja'far can't help but snidely quip, even as he eyes Koumei's hand for a second before reaching out to take it. "So long as your end of the bargain is kept, we have a deal."

Ah, he has really got to work on his reputation, if this kind of thing is becoming common awareness, especially after Hakuei's odd pause about the stables. Then again, working on his reputation sounds awfully tedious. He shakes Ja'far's hand once, then lets it go as if it's infected. "I'll have him out before midnight. When can you have the deed done?"

"Once I verify that he's out? Probably by the same time tomorrow, lest she keeps an entourage of five dozen Al-Sarmen magicians for the day."

"Sooner is better than later," Koumei says mildly. "The longer you wait, the longer she'll have to figure out something's happening. She took En out in a moment, she's-ah, but you'll remember that." He shrugs a shoulder, weary of the conversation. "Good luck."

"I hardly need luck, but thank you." Really, as if he needs a reminder of what she's capable of. God, but Ja'far will be glad when he can go back to pushing paperwork 24/7, he was supposed to be done with this particular lifestyle.

Koumei hates this, all the sneaking around and dealing with people, all the stopping to hear himself congratulated by people who think he's been getting Hakuei pregnant, hatefully enough. No fewer than three guards attempt to drink his toast on his way to the cells, and two of them are ones that had of late been transferred from his own employ. Really, as if they don't know better. It takes little bribery and less convincing to get the guards to acquiesce to his request, only the bored self-assurety of royalty something he really needs to get his way.

They're palace guards, which makes everything easier, even if he does have to give (not that he minds overmuch) a hurried blowjob in the corner to keep them from doing any paperwork. Ah, he misses the taste of Kouha already, but he consoles himself with watching the guards take the battered and bruised form of Sindria's former king to the cells with the magicians.

Then he goes to bed, ignoring Hakuei on the couch, miserable and cold in bed and unsure how much longer he can stand it.

Kouha thinks he should get a medal in wall-scaling at this point.

Why does Koumei's room have to be so damnably high up? He could, of course, hop on a magic carpet, but that's far too noticeable. Scaling the wall, scrambling up onto the balcony, and sneaking in through windows is his only solution, and he figures at least this is good practice for some wartime maneuver…

The last bit is less than graceful, though, which is when he catapults himself into Koumei's bed with an audible oof of breath. "This is awful," he bemoans into a pillow. "Can we just kill her already?"

Koumei rolls onto Kouha without a second's pause, holding him as tightly as his arms can manage, holding him until he hears something creak. "We are," he promises, gathering him up and promising inwardly to never never let him go. "It's happening, it'll be done by tomorrow night."

Kouha blinks at that, a hand on Koumei's chest to push him back a fraction of an inch, all the better to actually look at him. "Wait, what? How? No offense, Mei, but you can't kill her."

Koumei groans, burying his face in his brother's chest. "Forget I said it, I wasn't supposed to say anything, just...trust me." He doesn't want to look at Hakuei, knowing how exasperated she'll look, but keeping secrets from Ha is harder than keeping secrets from anyone else.

"Nooo, now you've brought it up, I wanna know," Kouha lowly insists, pulling on Koumei's hair. "How's she dying? I don't have to do anything, do I? If I do, you need to tell me, I wanna be ready to end that bitch."

"Mmm, you're fine, we've got it all taken care of." I hope. If not, we're rid of an obnoxious assassin. "Just make sure you're well out of it, make sure you're in your room tomorrow night. And stay there, as much as I want you here." He buries his face in Kouha's neck, kissing now.

"Ahh, I wanna watch, though…" he grumbles, but settles back all the same, sliding a hand down Koumei's back. "I guess as long as it happens, then whatever. I'm getting tired of sneaking around, I just wanna curl up with you again."

"I'm trying," Koumei murmurs. "Wish I could drain her, wish she didn't know my tricks so well. That's annoying. But I promise once we're rid of the witch we'll just curl up for as long as you want, all right?" And it still won't be as long as I want.

"Mm. Good." Kouha butts his head against his brother's shoulder, hiding his frown. "...You definitely don't want to marry Hakuei, right?"

Koumei pulls back, startlement and disgust apparent on his face. "Definitely not," he says firmly, shuddering at the very thought of it. "Really, really definitely not."

Relief is the only thing reflected across Kouha's. "Good. I mean, I knew that, but I wanted to hear it all the same. En would kill you, anyway, and… I don't really see you, uh, taking care of babies."

Koumei makes a face, barely stopping himself from gagging. "No offense to either of them, but I really don't want any part of it. Of them or babies. Although," he adds, laying down again to pillow his head on Kouha's belly, "I'd like your babies."

"If I was a woman, I'd have your babies," Kouha happily replies, sliding a hand slowly through Koumei's hair. "And I bet we'd have an easier time of it than En, by far."

Koumei smiles, nuzzling into the touch, inhaling deeply and nosing up the hem of Kouha's shirt, resting his cheek against the bare skin of his navel. "Of course we would, your mother was no one. Both sides of En's child are going to be Rens, all the way back."

"Pretty sure ours would be prettier," Kouha lowly adds, an amused grin on his face at that. "And we'd probably, you know, actually have to be careful, or I'd be having a kid every damned year. You actually work properly."

"Mmm, then it's probably a good thing you're not a woman," Koumei points out, amused and more intrigued than he should be by the idea. "I don't think either of us would want the hassle of being careful. And how do you know I work properly? I certainly haven't sired any bastards that I know of."

"Shhh, I just know these things. I mean, our father sure as hell was busy, there's a really good chance you're just as capable."

Koumei shrugs, trailing a finger down Kouha's chest, twirling it around a strand of pink. "Pity we'll never find out. You've got me interested in the idea."

"… Can't rukh do that? Ahh, never mind, bad idea, bad idea," Kouha sighs, letting his head loll back. "I'd be obnoxious as a woman, anyway."

Koumei laughs, low and easy, and everything seems possible and stress-free when Kouha's in his arms again. "You'd be the only woman who could hold my attention, that's for sure. Oh, but En would kill us."

"En has enough to worry about-I'm still not getting married any time soon," Kouha grumbles. "No matter what he says."

"You should have a nice wife," Koumei says, but his heart isn't in in, and he's pretty sure that's obvious. "And lots of babies that I can spoil. Someone's got to, and I doubt En'll get more than one."

"'Nice' wives are boring, babies are boring, just spoil me," is Kouha's immediate protest as he buries his face into his brother's neck. "I'm better."

Koumei wriggles down, pulling the blankets around both of them. "No arguments here."

So far, being a captured slave isn't that bad.

It's a lot nicer here in the palace than it had been the first time Aladdin had been taken as a slave, with the crying children and the disease and everyone sure they were going to die. This is a lot more like being a prisoner, he thinks, since no one is trying to make them work, at least not yet.

Still, it's nice to be away from everyone else for a little while, since everyone's so sad all the time, all talking about Magnoshuttat and what's in store for them and whether they'll make it out alive, and the fact that it's Kouha that pulls him out of the cell is probably the best news of all.

Aladdin walks ahead, walking backwards as he smiles. "You look a lot nicer today than in Magnoshuttat!" he says, clasping his manacled hands in front of himself, looking up at the pink-haired man. "Is this your house? Where are your pretty servants?"

In a way, Kouha is immensely glad that he's the one that laid claim on this one. Not only because he's a Magi-that's just a huge bonus, really-but because he's still just a kid. Even he has a few mercies left in him, at least when it comes to people that have slept within a foot of him for a good week and a half and tried to flirt with his servants.

"Busy," he sighs, dropping a hand on Aladdin's head to turn him 'round. "Hey, walk like a normal person. I don't care, but people'll start talking about what I let my slaves get away with. Did they feed you yet?"

"Not enough," Aladdin says cheerfully, easily turning around to walk more properly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble. Hey, is that weird lady who came to look at my friends your mom? She said she was the Emperor. Are you gonna be Emperor when you're older?"

"Step-mother, definitely no blood relation," Kouha says with a wrinkle of his nose, barely managing not to gag. "And no, I'm not gonna be emperor." That's En's job.

"Nah, you're just gonna get shipped off to some foreign country to marry their princess."

Judal's hands are on his shoulders-not annoying in and of itself, but it's the words that make him twitch more than anything. "Aren't you made of sunshine today?" Kouha drawls, his head twitching around to glare at the other Magi as he comes to a stop in the hall.

"Bored," is his succinct reply, sharp red eyes immediately falling upon Aladdin. "Let me borrow him."

"Oh, no way. Not after you tossed yours to the dungeon," Kouha mutters, swatting at Judal's hands.

"If you don't share, I'll whine to Gyokuen."

Wow, Judal's in a foul mood today. Commentary about being a jealous, jilted lover is on the tip of his tongue, but Kouha bites it back. Narrowly. "And if you injure him, I'll be mad."

Judal shrugs heavily, his feet actually bothering to touch the ground as he gives Aladdin another annoyed stare. "He grew. A little. Less easy to turn into a ball and kick around now, at any rate."

This is probably the first time Aladdin's been afraid since he's been captured.

By himself, alone, even without his friends with him, he's not afraid of Judal. Chained up, totally at his mercy, knowing how Judal likes to play with people….

Aladdin swallows hard, looking up at Kouha with pleading in his eyes. They're friends, aren't they? At least Kouha's always been nice to him, even if he did conquer Magnoshuttat, but that's a country thing, that's politics, and when he'd agreed to become a prisoner….

That's right. He'd agreed. He'd given his word, knowing that he'd be a slave. Aladdin bites his lip and swallows hard, shooting Kouha a last, nervous look before letting himself be steered. "What do you want to do with me?" he asks, and hopes his voice isn't quavering. The memory of Ugo, pierced by giant shards of ice, brought low and in awful pain as Judal laughed, is enough to make him a little sick at the thought of going wherever Judal wants.

"I said I'm bored."

It's with an easy shove that Aladdin's tossed into Judal's chambers, the door shutting behind him. "Eat with me, and maybe I won't use you for target practice or something. My pet's busy being punished at the moment."

Aladdin's eyes widen at the sight of food, and his mouth waters as he nods enthusiastically. "Okay!" The promise of food is a strong lure right now with how he's been fed in the dungeons, and he sits immediately, blinking up at Judal. "What kind of pet do you have? Is it a cat? Or a lizard?"

Judal snorts, dragging Aladdin over and shoving him down at the already set table. "No, dumbass. Sinbad's my pet. And he looks a lot better in chains than you do," he adds with a mutter, flopping down on the opposite side and grabbing for a peach. "Kinda bummed you grew at all. Definitely would be easier to toss around if you were still… bitty."

Aladdin makes a face. "Or we could play a game or something," he suggests, then stuffs his face with the closest thing that looks remotely edible, followed by several of its friends. "Hey, where did you learn all the spell names and stuff? Mogamett said you never studied with him but you use a lot of the same ones."

Judal was hoping the brat would be a little more… intimidated.

Instead he's eating like nothing ever happened between them, and Judal scowls, taking a hard bite out of his peach. "I had way better teachers than you, in Al-Sarmen. Your magic school is-was a joke. Burnt to the ground now, if I've heard right."

"Yeah…." A cloud passes in front of his vision. "I had some good times at school there, but there were a lot of things wrong with the way Magnoshuttat ran, too. I'm a little surprised Kou burned it down, I thought you guys were working together."

"I don't know about all of that stuff. I'm guessing they were trying to do their own thing and pull away from Al-Sarmen, but I don't care either way." A pause, and Judal slowly sucks the juice out of a section of his peach. "So. That trick you do with Solomon's seal. You're gonna tell me how."

Aladdin blinks. "Sure. I mean, I'll try, but I'm really not sure how it wokrs myself. It's not really a trick, it just….it feels like something's moving through me more like I'm doing anything." He picks up a peach, bites it, and his eyes go wide. "Wow, these are way better than any I've had before!"

"Yeah, peaches are a thing here." Judal frowns, eyeing him contemplatively. "If you can't teach me how, then I'll probably let Al-Sarmen seal your magic," he says with a dismissive shrug. "I mean, really, what good are you otherwise? You just keep messing up our plans."

Aladdin shrugs. "Like I said, I'll try. Have you ever had your magic sealed? Does it hurt?"

That's supposed to garner more of a reaction. "… Are you fucking alive in there?" Judal irritably replies, reaching over to flick Aladdin's forehead. "No, I've never had my magic sealed. Unlike you, I'm a proper Magi, and I don't let shit like that happen to me."

Aladdin takes another bite of his peach, letting the seal of Solomon flare on his forehead, and says cheerfully, "Maybe I won't let it happen to me either."

Judal's eyes narrow. "Give it a shot, shorty. Are you so dumb you haven't noticed how heavily warded this room is? No one throws magic around in here but me, and even if you could, I can seal you in a heartbeat, besides." Okay, he doesn't quite know that part, but… "Lot of use you'd be to your friends then. Do you know," he idly adds, flicking the pit of his peach across the room, "how much fun Gyokuen's gonna have with that pretty one?"

Aladdin winces at that, thinking of how miserable Titus had sounded, shivering in the jail cell. "She's going to have to do it fast," he says quietly. "He's not going to last much longer, here or anywhere." The peach doesn't taste quite as good now, and he sets it down, curling his knees up to his chest.

"Oh, he'll last just fine, once she's got his rukh all turned to black." He flops backward, sprawling over the floor. "And if he doesn't, then he'll be my black djinn. She promised me him, after Sinbad started being a little bitch."

"I don't know if you're going to like him," Aladdin says, looking out the window over the tops of his knees. "He's…." He shakes his head, tucking his face into his knees and hugging them close. "He's a nice guy. And he's really sad and angry a lot. And he's not a girl even though he looks like one."

"Doesn't matter what they're like once they're a black djinn," Judal snorts. "'Sad' and 'angry' just makes them more powerful. Sounds good to me."

"Do you care what they were like before they were djinns?" Aladdin asks. "Do you have any friends, Judal? Do you think they'd make good djinns?"

"No, I don't care, and sure, I've got friends." More like people that listen to you when you threaten them-well, Kougyoku doesn't quite fall under that category, but… "What's with the twenty questions? I bet," he sighs, shoving himself upright again, "you'd be a nice one, too. Not sure how to get you there, though. Your rukh's way too white right now, sort of stupid to look at."

"Just making conversation." Aladdin picks up the peach again, nibbling on the skin, then sucking out the pulp. "You said you wanted to eat and talk, right? Or did you just want to eat quietly?"

"… Aren't you afraid of me?" It's hard not to be annoyed by this one. "You should be. I was going to sink all of Sindria, you know, if Freckles hadn't gone ahead and tossed Sinbad at our feet."

Aladdin shrugs. "I'm not an island. Is Ja'far here, by the way?"

"You're easier to sink than an island," Judal petulantly snaps back. "And yeah, he is. What do you care, that slut of a snake hasn't even asked about you once."

"I'd still want to see him. And you, I've been thinking about you." Aladdin rolls onto his belly, propping his chin up on his hands. "Have you been thinking about what I showed you?"

"Good luck, he's busy sucking Kouen's cock. Or anyone's cock he can find now that Kouen's in the dungeon." Judal growls underneath his breath, irritation sharply rising. "And no, I haven't been thinking about that. Why the fuck did you ever even show me that?"

"Your mom was really pretty, I saw her too, you know." Aladdin rolls over onto his back, plucking another piece of fruit from the tray and popping it into his mouth. "Do you think she'd have been a good black djinn?"

The room's temperature drops a solid dozen degrees. "Why the hell do you care, anyway?" is Judal's low response. "Why have you been thinking about me when I tried to kill you?"

"I always think about the people who try to kill me," Aladdin says, fingers tracing little patterns on the carpet. "I always wonder why they tried to do it and if they'd try to do it again if they knew me."

"You're not even supposed to exist." It comes out sharp, barely more than a growl in the back of his throat. "You could die, and that would set everything straight, so damn right I'd enjoy killing you. The hell is so special about you, anyway, that you have Solomon breathing down your throat, that Sinbad wants you to be his?"

Aladdin pops a grape into his mouth. "I thought you said if we eat you wouldn't want to kick me around? Besides, I thought that the whole thing with your black rukh was that you don't like the way things are and you're trying to change it." He leans forward, blinking. "What are you trying to change your fate to, anyway?"

"You ask a lot of annoying questions."

Judal nearly throws a peach into his face-but no, that's a waste of a goddamn good peach, and reserved for people he likes, anyway. He bites into it instead, seething. "Yet you never answer any of mine. Seriously, what the fuck did you do to make Sinbad like you so much?"

Aladdin tilts his head, curious. "Like me so much? Sinbad's just a friend of mine. I have a lot of friends. I think he likes you a lot too."

Judal's jaw tightens. "Yeah? Then tell me why he wants you as his Magi, and not me."

Aladdin shrugs. "I don't know anything about that. He asked me to be the Magi of Sindria, but I'm not. I'm not anyone's, until Alibaba gets a kingdom. I promised him, even if he doesn't remember."

A blank stare follows those words. "… Wait. You've already chosen a king?" Judal's head cocks. "Alibaba… that's that little blond shit from Balbadd, isn't it?"

"I think he's going to be a great king someday," Aladdin says, a smile on his face now. "He's really smart and brave and kind, when he remembers to think about other people and not just himself. And he beat your black djinn."

Judal's eyes narrow. "Only because of Solomon," he irritably replies. "Because I passed out. And because it was his fucking boyfriend or something, I don't know. Any normal circumstances and it wouldn't have happened. Don't give him too much credit, he's giving his country away."

"He's doing what he thinks is right. I think it's very brave of Alibaba to give up his country for what he believes is best for his people. He gave away all his wealth from Amon's dungeon to free slaves, too," he points out. "I think he's a very noble king, with or without a country!"

"He's done it more than once?" Judal incredulously retorts. "Wow, you sure know how to pick 'em."

"I think it's better to want people to be happy than to want people to be your subjects." Aladdin shrugs. "He's a very good person, and he wants everyone to be free to make their own lives."

"You're an idiot. Even I know that's not how people are. People want a king, they want to be ruled, they want someone strong telling them what to do," Judal says, eyes lidding. "And you've chosen the worst possible 'king' to go up against mine. It's going to be fun, watching yours be roasted alive. Kougyoku says he can't even djinn equip yet."

"He'll get there," Aladdin says confidently. "Alibaba is going to be a great king. And I don't think Sinbad would really want to fight him, they're friends too. Or do you mean another king of yours?"

A sneer follows that. "Did you not catch the part when I said Sinbad doesn't want me? His loss. I guess I'll just have to go with Kouen instead; he's just as strong, if not stronger."

"Okay," Aladdin agrees, stretching out and grabbing a bread roll off the table. "You're really fond of Kouen, right? Why do you let him stay in the basement, then?"

"Because it's safer there, right now," Judal crossly mutters. "It's not like he's getting hurt down there. Better there, than having to step between him and that witch." Not that Kouen would ever see it that way, or appreciate it for a moment.

"The dungeons aren't really so bad," Aladdin agrees. "Not…" He curls up again, remembering some of the things he'd heard down there. "Not when the guards don't hurt you. Sometimes they hurt people down there, I hate the sound of it."

"Oh," the older Magi sighs out, "that was probably Sinbad. I sent him down there to be punished, you know. I hope they're doing a good job of it, he deserved it."

"Not just him. The guards….the ones who…." Aladdin puts the roll back on the table, curling his knees up again. "There were a lot of them. When there were too many they'd come hurt the other prisoners even though they weren't supposed to, that's why I gave myself up."

"Welcome to war. Don't look so upset, this is what you signed up for by being that stupid." Judal's head tilts, a smirk on his lips. "Did you really think the Kou Empire would keep all of its promises? Don't whine to Kouha about it, he can't do a damned thing, not while Gyokuen's still in charge. A Magi should have more pride than that, anyway."

"I don't know a lot about what a Magi's supposed to do," Aladdin admits. "You're the only one I know. I met Scheherazade once, a little, but she was really….um, she reminded me more of a king than a magician, really. A good king, though," he adds, remembering. "And a really pretty one."

"Raise dungeons and blow shit up, for starters-ahh, but you can't do any of that, and you won't ever be able to now, because you're just gonna be someone's pet the rest of your life. Even if I don't do it first," Judal drawls, leaning over the table, "you're gonna get picked up by Al-Sarmen at some point here. They'll poke and prod at you to try and find out what makes you tick, maybe even try and turn your rukh black. Even if they can't, that's fine. You're an anomaly, remember? They won't just seal your magic, they'll take it away. I've seen them do it. That's what you signed up for."

Aladdin raises his face, meeting Judal's eyes. "Does it make you happy to see other people in pain?" he asks, blue eyes wide. "Has it always?"

"Does it make you feel better, thinking that it hasn't?" Judal breathes, eyebrows arching. "I don't like you. You've never done anything but fuck things up for me. It's about time that something bad happens to you."

"I don't think anything is going to make me feel better about the way you are," Aladdin says frankly. "And it doesn't have anything to do with having black rukh. What bad things keep happening to you that you think they need to happen to someone else for a change?"

Yeah, he's fucking done with this one. What was he even thinking, imagining this to be satisfying in some way? Even if he isn't bored, he's frustrated. "If you ask me one more stupid question, I'll slit your throat and leave you to bleed out for the maids to clean up," Judal mutters, shoving himself to his feet. "You don't care, anyway. Stop acting like you're so perfect."

"I don't think I'm perfect." Aladdin picks out another peach and stops, sniffing it. "Oh, this is what Kougyoku smelled like, isn't it? I thought it was peaches, but it wasn't quite the same back in Sindria. Do you like these too?"

"Don't just-ugh, don't sniff it, at least eat it if you're gonna touch them." Right. He's done with this one. Wait, though-"The hell were you doing smelling Kougyoku?"

"She smells good! She's a really pretty lady," Aladdin says, remembering with a smile. "Her boobs aren't that big, but that's okay. I was pretty good, but she let me sit on her lap sometimes anyway. Is she here too?"

Judal doesn't quite remember freezing Aladdin to the nearest wall, but it happens all the same. Sucking in a deep breath, he strides right past the other Magi on his way to the door. "You," he calmly says, "can stay there. Hope you enjoyed the meal, might be your last at this rate."

Turns out, Gyokuen is still a creepy bitch.

Whining to her about releasing Kouen already yields no result. Instead, she purrs something about him being such a good boy in his ear, and here, drink this, it'll make you even prettier-

Yeah, no. Judal remembers the last time he drank something from her hand. Or rather, he remembers drinking it, and not much else.

He's not quiet when he returns to his chambers, slamming the door behind him and flopping down into bed in short order. Not worth sparing a glance to the baby Magi frozen on his wall-he knows Aladdin is still there, doesn't care-because more important is sleep, and burying himself into enough blankets to forget that he's so stupidly alone in this palace right now…

Kouen will be out-eventually. Sinbad, too, even if he's mad at him. Little he can do but forgive both of them, even if they ignore him and don't care, he thinks, forcing himself to sleep with a long, weary sigh.

The ice is really, really slow to fade, and Aladdin's teeth are chattering horribly by the time he finally gets himself unstuck. It would have taken seconds if he had his magic, but that's locked up as securely as he is, so he just waits for it to melt on its own. It's got to be magic ice, got to be, and his limbs are achy and awful by the time he finally gets off the wall.

He's going to go back to the dungeons, quietly locking himself back in with Titus and Sphintus, but something makes him pause.

Judal is making weird noises in his sleep, lonely, whuffling little noises that make Aladdin's heart hurt just to hear them. He'll probably be upset, probably freeze Aladdin to the wall again, but, well, there's little better he can hope for in this palace.

Aladdin rubs his arms quickly to try and warm them up, then carefully crawls onto the bed, curling up behind Judal and gently petting his hair.

It's reflex, far more than any realization of who Aladdin is, that brings Judal to shift in his sleep, turning over with a sniff and huff of breath to bury his face into the other Magi's side. Another wet sniff, and an arm flops over Aladdin in kind. "Stupid king," is his mumble, complete with a squeeze meant to draw his 'prisoner' closer.

Aladdin doesn't say anything, afraid his words will break the mood, but he wraps his arms around Judal, hands petting his hair again. It's kind of weird, to have Judal curling up against him like a big kitty, but there are a lot worse and weirder things in the world, and at least this reminds him that Judal is still a person.

Another, wetter sniffle, and Judal curls himself closer, butting his face into Aladdin. "Really… really stupid…" is the wholly sleepy mumble, complete with a little hiccup of breath. It's suddenly not just his voice that's watery, but the press of his face into Aladdin's side as well, and Judal's brow furrows deeply as he sleeps, shivering.

It's kind of hard to tell if Judal is even awake, but Aladdin cuddles him anyway, finally getting some sleep of his own as the warmth of Judal's body thaws him out. Even in sleep, his hands stroke through that soft thick hair. Judal smells good, better than anything he's smelled in a while, and it's easier than it should be to curl up with him. "Sweet dreams, Judal," he whispers, closing his eyes.

Judal supposes he's woken up in stranger ways and stranger places, though this kind of takes the cake for now.

It's dark when his eyes slit open again, eyelashes trying to stick to his skin, and so he irritably rubs his face into the nearest warm body-ah. Wait. Who is it, exactly?

Not Sinbad.

No, still definitely not Sinbad.

It's that other Magi, and that makes his stomach twist, irritation fluttering through him when he lifts a hand to scrub at his eyes. His face hurts, the way it does after he's cried for a long time, and that's just stupid. All of this is stupid, down to the way the kid is curled up around him, and Judal wonders if he must have had what Gyokuen was trying to make him drink after all.

What does it say about him, though, that he doesn't really want to get up?

Aladdin wakes slowly now that he's warm, instinctively burrowing into the sweet-spicy-smell of the warm body next to him. He knows, really, who he's cuddling up to, but as long as Judal doesn't mind, Aladdin's inclined to hang onto that comfort for as long as possible.

Ugh.

Judal thinks about moving again. He really does, because this is just weird, and weirder still is even if his face hurts, he actually feels rested for a change. It's probably the flutter of Aladdin's rukh about, or something weird like that, he dully thinks, watching the white spray of it littered about the room, coalesced especially around the kid's curled up body. Well, whatever. If it makes him sleep better, that's fine, he supposes…

But still-"I'm not your damned girlfriend, don't rub yourself on me," Judal crossly mutters.

Aladdin stops moving, but he doesn't move away, letting out a breath as he tries to go as still as possible. He tries not to breathe, but that doesn't work too well, so he starts again, hoping it's not too annoying. "Sorry. You can put me back in the dungeon afterward, but we can sleep a little longer if you want."

"Supposed to give you back to Kouha." Judal snorts, smushing his face down into a pillow. "You're like a furnace. And a sleeping tonic. Maybe will keep."

Aladdin smiles a little. This is the Judal he'd seen in Solomon's wisdom, the one that had clung happily to his mother's braid as a baby, and Aladdin nudges just slightly closer. "Kouha sleeps late. He won't notice. Comfy."

"i threatened to kill you not a few hours ago," is Judal's sleepy, irritable grumble. "You shouldn't be so thrilled to stay with me. It's the mattress, isn't it? Don't get used to it, mine's made special."

"Shh," Aladdin murmurs, pulling Judal a little closer. "You smell good."

Ah.

He's blaming still being sleepy on how his pulse flutters, just the slightest bit, and maybe the fact that he's been without Sinbad and Kouen both for days now. At least one of them usually pays him an underhanded compliment or two… "Don't grab at me," he mutters all the same.

"Okay," Aladdin agrees, and throws a leg over Judal's hips anyway because he's warmer that way, and he can feel their heartbeats going at the same rate pressed up this close. He starts drifting off again, mumbling, "Pretty hair."

Yeah, he's basically come to the conclusion that he's desperate.

Judal huffs out a slow, annoyed breath, his eyes shutting all the same and his face burying itself firmly into a pillow, not allowing himself to use Aladdin's neck or hair or anything like that. "Whatever," he mumbles. "Just don't move around a lot."

Judal's resolution is silly, and as soon as he falls asleep again Aladdin burrows closer, keeping the chill of Kou off them both by wriggling around until they're pretty thoroughly entangled. Like this, face against Judal's (sadly flat) chest, he can finally sleep happily.

Magicians, so long as they are caught unawares, are an entirely too-easy kill.

Gyokuen suspects nothing from him. It's a bonus that she turns him so much a blind eye, thinking him amusing at best, a predictable traitor of a snake that she can use as easily as she does the rest of Al-Sarmen's forces. Ja'far doesn't care what she thinks of him so long as he can use it to his advantage, and in this situation, he certainly can.

The only problem is she's never alone.

He's taking a dozen and a half risks. Troublesome, all of this, and Ja'far can't help but bitterly hope that Sinbad has indeed already planted that box within Judal's chambers to be found by the wretch in short order-because to be honest, he sort of doubts he'll make it out of this one alive. It has nothing to do with Gyokuen. It has everything to do with Al-Sarmen.

Ja'far has precautions in place, at the very least. His world is already swimming, in fact, so he has to act fast.

When he strikes, he strikes well and true, enjoying thoroughly the pool of her blood when his blade stabs through the back of her neck, clear through her spine and internally decapitating her as she slumps over the dinner table. He doesn't enjoy being hauled from the shadows in short order, the agonizing pinprick of a dozen spells hitting him at once bringing him to his knees, heavy and thrumming with black rukh.

It's a good thing, when his world goes black.

Judal sleeps through dinner.

He can't remember the last time he's slept so much, actually. All he knows is his room is so pleasantly warm, that his bed has never felt quite so comfortable, and when he does wake, the little flutter of white birds is odd but nice, even when they turn to black at a moment's brush against his skin. All of it would be perfect, except-

Hot, hard lines of muscle, strong hands, long fingers, sharp teeth and a twisting, rough pull on his braid that makes his back arch-

He's soaked with sweat, and between his legs-

Judal wants to blame the brat still cuddled up next to him-not only curled up close, but hard, pressed into the small of his back-but his mouth opens and shuts, cheeks flushing hot as he abruptly sits up. He hasn't remembered his dreams in forever, let alone dreams like that, and he certainly hasn't… found pleasure like that in them in a very, very long time. He needs to bathe, wants that stickiness off, a source of desperate humiliation that he'd rather forget (he's a Magi, why doesn't anyone want to keep him?).

Aladdin comes all the way awake once Judal starts stirring, really stirring, not just making fun, pretty little noises in his sleep that make Aladdin's skin tight, his breath quick, and he arches, sighing a breath out through his nose. "Mmm….if you hold still for a few more minutes, I'll be done too," he murmurs, curling an arm around Judal's abdomen as he undulates his body in slow, easy, lazy rolls against the older boy's back.

He's desperate, but he's not that desperate.

The kid's what, 12? On top of that, Judal hates him. At least, he's pretty sure he remembers a good number of reasons to hate him, and this isn't helping. "Fucking quit it," Judal lowly growls, though it's a little difficult to pull away when his own body twitches at the press of Aladdin's cock against him. Kouen's right, he really is a slut. "This is your fault."

"Okay," Aladdin agrees, and rubs his face in between Judal's shoulderblades. "You smell really nice. Like a pretty lady, one of the really expensive ones." Judal said to stop, but he's not leaving, and Aladdin's not really doing anything, just moving around a little...maybe he won't be too mad, and Aladdin's already so hard it's pretty uncomfortable to stay like that. It's got to be all that time in the dungeons, with no lovely women in sight, and no chance even for time to himself. He rolls his hips, shivering a little at the slow, wet drag of his cock up the small of Judal's back. "You made really nice noises, too."

"How long were you listening?" Ugh. That makes him even more angry, more so embarrassed, and Judal wonders what's more of a blow to his dignity now-letting this bitty excuse of a Magi rut against his back and compliment him, or leave him there to rub one off in his bed while he drowns himself in a bath. "Just-ugh, just… finish already," he mutters, burying his face down into a pillow as he tries not to shiver himself.

That makes Aladdin beam with pleasure at getting permission, and he speeds up a little, the lazy rolls of his hips getting more frequent as his breath gets soft and intent, eager little pants agains Judal's neck as he thrusts. Judal is so pretty, his skin so soft and everything about him all firm, no breasts unfortunately but his ass is almost as nice as Titus's, and he worms his way down, going from thrusting against the small of Judal's back to rutting against the curve of his ass, eager, delighted little huffs coming out of his mouth. "Almost done," he assures the older boy, and on a whim, presses an open-mouthed kiss to Judal's upper back.

This shouldn't be something he enjoys.

It should annoy him at best, but instead his face is hot, his skin prickling and twitching with every slide of Aladdin's cock against him, every huff of the kid's breath against his back. Judal swallows, biting down into a pillow lest he start giving Aladdin ideas, and oh, he's got a few of them, none of which will do anything to get rid of the odd twist of heat in the pit of his belly.

It's just because you had a stupid dream. That's all, you're still wound up-

Yeah, he'll go with that. Or he would, if-okay, there was no way Aladdin had that much muscle tone the last time Judal punched him in the face.

Aladdin's arm tightens around Judal's waist, dropping down low on his abdomen as he squirms around, tugging his hips back to give him a little extra pressure. It's really nice like this, nice enough that he wishes he could stay, and he can't help but think of how nice it would be to slide between the cheeks of Judal's ass instead.

That thought alone pushes him happily over the edge, and his hips jerk a few times, spilling messy and hot over Judal's ass and lower back before he stills. "Thanks," he whispers, nuzzling into Judal's back. "You're really really nice to do that with."

New low established, Judal thinks, grinding his teeth as he tries to will his own cock not to get started again. Easier said than done, when he's sticky and shivery and Aladdin is still breathing hot against his neck and back and ugh-"Don't touch me again," he mutters, the words coming out a little too breathless for his liking, and so he accompanies them with a shove, carefully attempting to slide away. "Just-why haven't I thrown you back into the dungeons yet?"

"I don't know," Aladdin says, letting Judal go regretfully, then noticing the mess and grabbing a handkerchief from the bedside, wiping it carefully off.

Judal's teeth grind harder. "What even gives you the right to touch me? You're just a little brat. I'm going to enjoy when Al-Sarmen gets their hands on you, and picks you apart, piece by piece." He yanks on the tie to his braid. "Get out, I need to go scrub you off of me."

Aladdin sighs, tossing the cloth to the floor. So much for being nice, then. He wriggles his pants back up, then stretches out, hopping down to the floor. "Thank you anyway. I'm sorry you didn't have fun."

"The hell would you know about fun?" Judal mutters angrily, a flurry of magic unwinding his hair in swift order as he yanks his clothes off. "Enjoy rotting in the dungeon."

"I have a lot of fun! You're really nice to curl up with, when you're not yelling and saying mean things." He pauses by the door, blinking. "Wooow, you have the prettiest hair! Can I touch it?"

Judal's head turns, a flat stare leveled upon him. "Are you serious? I just talked about how I wanted you torn to little pieces, and you're asking if you can touch my hair?"

"Well," Aladdin asks, undeterred, "can I?"

"I-" Kouen never wants to touch his hair. Only annoying people do. Sinbad only does occasionally, and he doesn't really compliment it anymore. Not that he cares about Sinbad, he can rot in the dungeons, too. "… I don't let just anyone touch my hair."

"Does it get tangled easy? Ohh, it looks really soft!" Aladdin is almost bouncing on the balls of his feet now, barely restraining his fingers when they seem to drift up on their own accord. "Can I? I won't pull it or anything!"

Judal opens his mouth, then shuts it again. Okay. He can find logic in this, too. The kid did just make a mess out of him, it's only right if he helps clean up. That's what a slave does, after all. "… You can help me wash it. You're the one that made everything a mess, anyway."

Aladdin beams, following Judal to the bathing area and working the soap carefully through the long strands, marveling at the soft thickness of it and the way it spreads out through the water. "There's so much of it," he breathes, working in a lather all the way up to Judal's scalp, massaging it in gently. "Does it get heavy? Is that why you wear the gold thing on your neck, to keep your head up right?"

Judal thinks, maybe, he can tolerate this one and keep him around for at least his skill with hair. He's a dozen times better than any servant or slave Kouen's ever gifted him-they don't even know where to start, and it's just easier doing it all himself usually, besides. This, though… this feels good, and Judal's content to let himself relax a little, his eyes lidding. "It's magicked, stupid," he mutters. "I've never cut my hair, if I could feel the actual weight of it, I'd probably never get out of bed."

"Wow, that makes sense. Mine's too thin to have to worry about that, but with this much, yeah, I can see that." He strokes his hands absently through the long strands, watching them pool and spread in the water. "Looks like a mermaid, when you're like this. Here, lay back? I want to wash the rest of it without splashing your face."

There's but a moment's hesitation before Judal does so, sinking down with a shuddery little sigh. "You're good at this," he murmurs. "You don't have hair like mine at all, so how'd that happen?"

"I like touching people. In Magnoshuttat, we all used to take baths together in these big pools, like they have in Laem, all heated by magic." Aladdin remembers the bathhouses fondly, massaging Judal's scalp. "I've never seen hair like yours before, it's really beautiful."

"Yeah, I gathered you… definitely like touching people," Judal huffs out, surrendering with a last, twitch and shiver before sinking down entirely, his eyes shutting. "You know, it doesn't matter how much you compliment me. I still hate you."

Aladdin nods, working in silence for a few minutes, undoing every tiny snarl, making sure it's all laying right as he cleans it, a little excited about putting it all up again. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you shouldn't even exist." When says it out loud like that, it sounds a little less than convincing.

Aladdin works quietly, nodding. "Do you know why I do? I don't. I woke up in the lonely room. I don't know how I got there."

Judal snorts at that. "You're the one that's had a conversation with Solomon. Why didn't you ask him?"

"I don't know, he seemed busy. Besides…." Aladdin shrugs, starting to card Judal's hair into a few different sections. "You saw what he showed you. Do you want to talk to him again? It's like riding a tornado."

"He's dead, how busy could he be?" Judal's teeth grit, his throat tightening as his memories dare to flash before his eyes again. "No. No, I don't want to fucking talk to him. You keep him to yourself, I don't care about any of that stuff, anyway."

"I wish I could see what my mother looked like. If I had one." Aladdin lifts a section of hair, gently squeezing out some of the water, making sure it's thoroughly rinsed. "Why do there only have to be three of us?"

"I dunno, that's just what they've always said," Judal sighs out, his eyes cracking open. "So you're the anomaly, obviously. Yunan's older than dirt, Scheherazade's been around for a couple hundred at least. And well, I'm older than you, so…"

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, how many dungeons have you raised? You've got a lot of candidates, right?"

"Mmmhm. I lost count of how many, I've raised a bunch." Judal arches an eyebrow. "You haven't done any, have you? Kinda useless."

"But dungeons kill people. And I already chose my king, so what's the point?" Aladdin asks practically.

"Dungeons kill worthless people," Judal lightly corrects. "And don't you want to, I dunno, boost his armies or something useful like that? I mean, not that you'll ever get a chance now or anything…"

"Well, he doesn't have an army or a country right now, so that wouldn't really do much good," Aladdin points out. "I don't know, if he asked me to I might, but…" He shrugs. "Have you ever been through a dungeon? They're really scary."

Judal blinks at him, openly confused. "… Why were you in a dungeon? That's cheating."

Aladdin's head tilts. "Is it? I've been in two. Why's that cheating?"

"… Because it is." Judal twists around, water sloshing in the process. "Hey, does that mean your king has two djinn now? I only sensed one that time before. I didn't think he had enough magoi for that."

"No, Hakuryuu got the next one. Hey, I haven't seen him around, is he here?" Aladdin asks, suddenly remembering. "Is he doing okay with his arm and everything?"

"Ahh, that little shit. Al-Sarmen likes hiiiim," Judal sighs out, stretching his arms out with his fingers wriggling. "Kouen tried to send him away, didn't work. He's still here, wanting a piece of the empire. I think it's funny that he wants to try, so I offered him some help… he hasn't quite taken it yet, though. Crazy idiot."

"Really? What kind of help?" Aladdin squirms around a little, then kind of urges Judal forward, straddling his hips to get better access to his scalp. "He's a really nice guy sometimes. Hey, why do people get married? No one ever wants to talk about it to me."

"To make him stronger, of course. He hates his mother, so…" Judal frowns, shifting uncomfortably underneath Aladdin's weight before deciding to just not move. It's safer that way. "And I dunno. Politics, usually. Sometimes babies. Even more rarely if they give a shit about one another."

"Ah, that's okay then. I wonder why no one wanted to tell me?" Aladdin shrugs that off, settling comfortably onto the small of Judal's back. "Ooh, your butt is nice and curvy like this. Do you like Hakuryuu?"

"I'm going to throw you across the room if you make one more comment," is his low growl to follow. "And I guess I like him well enough, whatever."

Okay, that's definitely not something Judal likes talking about, which is kind of weird given that he likes compliments to his hair, but that's fine, just another version of the "appropriate conversations" lecture that Sphintus had given him. Best to stick to that list, then. "I bet Al-Sarmen taught you a lot more stuff than I learned at school. Do you think you're the most powerful Magi?"

"Mmm, well, I'm definitely stronger than you," Judal sighs out, his eyes lidding in thought. "But I'm not that dumb. Everyone knows it's Yunan… except you, apparently, but I think you've been living under a rock."

"Oh, he's the really old one? I haven't met him." Aladdin wrings out a few more drops from one strand of Judal's hair, and searches around until he finds a wide-toothed comb, working in tiny sections to keep from pulling. "Scheherazade is pretty scary, when she's mad at you. Does Yunan have a king?"

Judal snorts, and does a good job of not making noises when his hair is brushed. "Nope, no king. He lives in a hole or something, last I checked. What a weirdo. You'd probably get along."

"Hmm, I didn't like living in the solid room, though," Aladdin muses. "It was really lonely. I like living out here a lot more, even if I get hurt and sad out here sometimes too." He works the comb up one section, letting the teeth scrape gently against Judal's scalp. "How old is old?"

A flutter of his eyes, and Judal makes an effort to bite the inside of his cheek, sighing out through his nose. "Mmnn… hundreds of years, I dunno, really. Old as dirt. Dirt's old."

"Is it?" Aladdin's never really thought about the age of dirt before, but it's probably been around for a while. He works the comb, then switches to another section of hair, draping the first one over Judal's shoulder. "Hold that while I comb this one out? I don't want any of it to get tangled."

Ah, right. Coordination. What's that again? Judal shivers slowly, but does as he's directed, reaching a hand up to grab at his own hair. "Yeah, dirt's really cold. I hear he doesn't look it, though."

The middle section combs out a lot easier, and Aladdin's raking the comb against Judal's scalp in no time. "Mmm, your hair is so thick, but everyone else I know with hair like this has split ends and stuff. Yours is perfect all the way down." He strokes a hand down from scalp to where it's appropriate to stop, then starts on the third section.

"Spend a lot of time taking care of it," Judal sighs, giving an absent shrug. "And magic. Magic's useful for keeping it nice. Otherwise it'd be kind of impossible, it's already stupidly heavy…"

"Really fun to brush, though," Aladdin says happily. "Everyone must fight over playing with it, huh?" He frowns at his own. "Mine is really tiny and thin, I don't mind it, but Kouha likes to put it in twenty or thirty braids and they wind up REALLY small."

"I don't let anyone touch it, they don't brush it right," he mutters, and Judal wrinkles his nose at the thought of Kouha in particular messing with his hair. "He's awful. I let him do that once, when we were a lot younger. Never again."

"He doesn't really let me say no," Aladdin grumbles. "It looks kinda stupid. Hey, why does the Kou dungeon have separate dungeons for boys and girls? I miss girls."

"Because small courtesies? Geez, you're dumb sometimes. Get used to missing girls, unless Kouha lets you touch some of his-ahh, but I'm taking you from him," Judal decides with a sigh. "Need someone who can do my hair like this more often."

At that, Aladdin perks up. "You'll let me play with your hair again?" he asks eagerly, and starts working his way farther up the third section. "Your hair is really pretty. Sometimes your jewelry gets in the way, though. Is that heavy too? Is it real gold?"

"It's not letting you, it's ordering you-you're a slave, after all," Judal sniffs. "And if it gets in the way, I'll just take it off, you know. Of course it's real gold, I wouldn't wear anything less. It's magicked, too, though, so it's not heavy."

"Oh, you can take it off? I thought it might be magic too. There's a lot of magic around you, you know." He brushes over the scalp, going over it a few times for the way Judal shivers, even if he probably doesn't know he's doing it. "I trained with some mages who use your kind of magic. It's really hard to fight."

"Ahh… yeah, good." Distracting. When's the last time anyone gave his hair this kind of attention? It feels a little too good. "And I've gotten stronger, so if we fought again, I'd definitely win."

Aladdin nods slowly, brow furrowing as he arranges all three strands to start braiding. "Probably," he admits. "I've been training hard, but not against any other magi or anything. And I don't…." He worries at his lower lip. "You have a lot more practice trying to kill people."

"Well, yeah, that's what you do when you fight," Judal mumbles, his eyes lidding and head bowing forward slightly. "I've never fought other Magi other than you either, but I know I'd win. I'm stronger than you, and you're too nice."

"Well, if we fight and you kill me, I can't play with your hair anymore," Aladdin reasons practically, starting to layer one strand over the other. "I mean, I'd miss a lot more stuff, like talking to my friends and going on adventures and sex, but you'd miss this, right?"

"… I could deal without." A little irritated twitch slides down his spine. "Just because I like it now doesn't mean I'm always gonna like it. And I already told you, you can say good-bye to that sort of stuff, anyway. You're someone's property now."

Aladdin shrugs. Things change pretty fast, lately, and it's not the first time he's been made a slave. "Nothing's forever. We're gonna do fun things together, right? What do you like to do for fun?"

"I don't have time for stuff like that." Roll around with Sinbad. Get petted. Eat. Flop on Kouen's desk. Ah, when he puts it like that, his life is kind of boring.

Aladdin sighs. "That doesn't sound like as much fun as I thought. You always seem to be having such a good time, I thought it'd be more fun to be with you."

"If I had Sinbad as a pet all the time…" Not really true, when he's had him for weeks and all Sinbad seems to do is make him more jealous or upset over time. "Whatever, learn to live with it. Are you done yet, I'm getting sick of my hair being all wet and stuff."

"Almost done. Oh, where's your hairtie?" Aladdin sits back, eyes wide and appreciative. "It looks nice today! But I'm not sure it'll be dry soon, it's still so thick." He spots the hairtie, and fastens it securely around the end, leaving just enough free that it doesn't undo. "I can use some heat magic on you, if you want?"

"Yeah, you try that and watch it blow up in your face. It's fine, I can do all of that myself," Judal says with a roll of his eyes, straightening and reaching back to grab at his braid and inspect it. Aladdin did do a good job, at least. "I guess I'll keep you for this, even if you're annoying."

"Thanks!" Aladdin tries to keep positive, no matter the awkwardly mean words. His opinion on whether Judal is a bad guy or just a confused one keep changing by the minute, and he's not exactly sure which one is true right now. "Do you still want me to sleep in the dungeons?"

Judal's expression twists a little at that as he climbs up, grabbing for the nearest long, oversized robe to wrap himself up in and wishing it was something of Kouen's or Sinbad's even as he huddles down into it. "No, I guess not. I don't want you to be all disgusting and dirty if you're going to be touching my hair."

Aladdin spares a thought for the friends he'll leave behind in the dungeons, and how they're probably going to miss him a lot, and be sadder without him there to keep the mood light. "On the floor? Hey, that's pretty!" Aladdin tugs on the end, then grabs the sash and wraps it a few times around Judal's waist. "You sure have a lot of fancy things."

"… You really don't know about personal space, do you?" Judal mutters, smacking Aladdin's hands away with an irritated huff. "On the floor, on whatever else, I don't care. Just don't get in my bed, not after how you woke me up."

"Sorry," Aladdin says with a shrug that says he's not sorry at all, sitting on the floor and rocking back onto his hands. "I didn't mean to, I just woke up and you were making fun noises."

"Which was also your fault! If you hadn't kept touching me in my sleep-" It makes him really, really angry how his skin flushes hot, and Judal snarls underneath his breath, whirling away to claw his way back into bed. "You're a horrible slave. You and Sinbad both."

Aladdin tries not to point out that Judal had started making noises long before Aladdin had given up and started rubbing against him. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor," he says instead. "I've slept on a lot of floors. At least this one has carpet."

"Well, good. Keep sleeping on it, then." Judal's face finds a pillow in short order, and after a moment, he makes good use of his blankets by rolling himself up into them rather than snuggling underneath them like most people. "Now leave me alone, I'm busy being a worm."