Later that day, the Sultan wandered back into his daughter's chambers. Over the course of the previous week, either from the stress of planning or sheer forgetfulness, his beard had grown from a plump bush to a small forest. He reached up and rubbed it. The loss of Genie had taken more of a toll on him than he'd expected.
The Sultan loved flying the magic carpet around the halls, stacking toy elephants on top of each other with that agitated little monkey, but especially rearranging his schedule to engage in the longest conversations about women, wine and life with the big blue guy. Now that his advisor was gone, (You know, after Jafar tried to take over world and everything), the Genie stepped in to fill that role, offering unique and piquant perspectives of how to run Agrabah.
Then, of course, there were the Sultan's memories of the Genie saving his entire kingdom from that freak Jafar with his own particular brand of wit.
"Tonight the part of Al will be played by a tall, dark and sinister ugly man."
"I am your master now!"
"I was afraid of that…"
No way was that gonna happen. The Sultan remembered fondly how Aladdin had used his street smarts to outwit him.
"You wanted to be a genie? You got it!"
"What?"
"And everything that goes with it."
"No! No!"
"I'm getting out of here!"
"Phenomenal cosmic powers… ("Come on, you're the genie. I don't want, I don't… !") itty bitty living space."
"Al, you little genius, you!"
With Genie's help, of course.
"Allow me. Ten thousand years in the Cave of Wonders oughta chill him out!"
The Sultan heaved a hefty sigh. The palace was a duller place without the Genie, that was for sure.
He creaked open the door to his daughter's room, and found her face down on the bed, with Rajah looking down at her sympathetically. "Are you feeling better?"
Jasmine turned to her father, her giant eyes damp. So a no, then. "Oh, Father," she sobbed. "He wouldn't kill himself… He didn't."
The Sultan just rubbed her back in reply. His daughter was doing the ugly cry. Whenever she did the ugly cry, it meant that she'd lost something she really cared about.
"I don't know how to do anything," she choked out, black tears still streaming. "It just hit me; I keep trying to bring everyone together and make everybody feel better, but I can't. My own husband… I can't even… " His daughter trailed off.
"Now, Jasmine… "
"I wish Mother was here."
The Sultan knew that Jasmine knew very little about the Sultana. What she must have truly wished was that her mother's DNA flowed through her veins and with it, her ability to heal.
… Anytime now.