An Agreement's Small Print

A/N: Enjoy (ah, I'm not cruel enough to usually leave chapters on cliff-hangers...)! All reviews are gratefully appreciated, as I love to know my readers views on what's happening within the story :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Jasmine rose to her feet, with more ease than she had had done so in months, and in silence, walked to her father's chamber door and opened it, stepping into the hallway.

In the smallest part of her mind, she wondered if something was wrong with this scenario. The calmness of her soul despite the painful news that had been delivered, the lightness of her footsteps despite the heaviness of her stomach. With eyes that were not her own, she could see her father still remaining in his room, with no attempt to reach out to his daughter.

Everything was still within the chaotic mess of her world, and it was a stillness that did not sit right with Jasmine. The only sound she could hear was the softness of her breath between her lips, a breath that seemed to feel colder the further down it went through her body. She was sure that she should be able to feel something about her father's news, that there had been a child of Jafar's before this one, whatever the emotion should be – anger that no one had told her? Sadness for the brother or sister that this child could've had?

Devastation for the man she loved?

Jasmine wished to feel something, anything, about this. But her mind, her heart, were light, floating away on a fluffy white cloud. She felt that a great burden had been lifted from her, and realised that this burden had been misunderstanding, for now she understood.

She understood Jafar's hovering over her, making sure that she was always alright, in case something happened to her and their baby. He surely could not afford to suffer through it all again, and she wasn't sure Agrabah could survive under his wrath if anything did happen; according to the Sultan, Jafar had arrived shortly after the events a broken man, and instead of recovering and coming to terms with it like a normal person, he had simply turned to a life of hate and fury against the world that he had served for, only for the world to throw him and his life away.

But she could never say a word to him, she could only be there. Only keep her safe, and keep the little one safe, too. And her father's wish, of not only doing that for herself, or for her husband, but for the world; she was the key to rescue Jafar from himself, and she had to hold that key without Jafar ever knowing she had it, for everyone's sake. If something happened to her or their child, the Sultan warned, Allah only knew what Jafar could be capable of, but it wasn't destined to be something pretty, and it was destined to be something that he dragged the whole world down into also.

The rustling of fabric ahead of her made Jasmine stop in her thoughts, her feet standing still on the cool marble floor. She looked up, and frowned slightly at the clearly female figure ahead, her long black hair straight and her dress rumpled, but she was unable to see any other features clearly. She stepped forward, cautiously.

"Hello?" she called, feeling the slightest hint of fear cross into her heart.

And then, as she came closer, and the woman ahead smiled a toothless smile, Jasmine let out a cry at the sight of her, desperate to close her eyes from the image, but her eyelids were unwilling to obey her, and she had to settle for the hand coming up to her mouth in horror, feeling the tears prickle under her skin.

Jasmine now understood what the Genie had meant that raising people from the dead was not a pretty picture.

The girl, seemingly around her own age, had looked pretty from a distance, and now looked positively frightful. The dress she wore was ripped in various places, hanging in tatters from her shoulders, and a good portion of it was soaked in blood, her stomach and the skirt dripping in red, and Jasmine felt sick as she watched the fine trail of crimson make its way down the inside of her legs, puddling into a pool at her bare feet.

Jasmine willed her eyes to follow up the girl's body, and she whimpered at the sight of her face – the toothless mouth, the blood running from under her eyes, colliding with that that poured from her open lips. Her long, black hair was knotted around her face, clench in clumps of dirt and blood, sticking to her cheeks. Her clammy skin was stretched tight, her legs and arms too skinny for a human, but despite her deathly appearance, she looked genuinely kind, as her face curved with the friendly smile, one long arm reaching out to her, a hand with no fingernails beckoning to the Queen.

But no matter how kind she appeared, Jasmine was terrified, and she held her arms tightly around her stomach, trying to protect her baby from this monster. "Jafar!" she screamed, hearing her voice vibrate off the corridor walls. "Jafar! Father!"

"They can't hear you, Jasmine; they won't come," the other girl spoke, in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Jasmine turned to look behind her – the corridor had appeared to shut itself off, allowing her no room to run, and the corridor came to an end behind the dead girl. There were no doors, no windows, only the smooth stone of the interior and the two figures.

Jasmine swallowed hard, trying not to lose the contents of her stomach, as she looked nervously towards the girl. "How... how do you know me?" she asked quietly, only realising as she spoke the words that the girl had addressed her by name.

The girl continued to smile, but now, the smile had fallen into one of sadness, blood trailing slowly from the corners of her mouth. She drifted rather than walked closer to Jasmine, letting her arm fall back down to the side of her body. "I've been watching you," she whispered. "I'm Leila, it's nice to meet you." Leila sighed, staring down at herself, then looked back up at Jasmine with an apologetic expression, unable to apparently see the stunned expression on her companion's face. "I apologise for how I'm dressed; I don't like it much myself."

Jasmine stared at her for several moments, her mind struggling to comprehend the person in front of her, as she realised that despite Leila being close enough for her to touch, she couldn't not smell a hint of decay from her. "Are you...?" she asked, her voice trailing away.

"I'm dead," Leila answered calmly for her. "But don't worry, I'm only in your dream. That's why the others can't hear you, can't hear us."

Only in my dream, Jasmine mentally murmured to herself. She found it rather ironic that Leila had said this in an attempt to calm her down, but the knowledge that she was speaking with her husband's dead wife in her dream was not at all reassuring. But Leila just continued to gaze at her, the chocolate irises of her bright eyes swimming in a sea of red, as if waiting for a response, and as Jasmine lowered her eyes to the floor, she eyed the blood dripping down Leila's leg, and the trail of it down the corridor. She could feel her own baby move inside her, as if sensing her mother's fear and nervousness, and Jasmine pressed a hand gently on her stomach, trying to soothe her child. "What happened to...?" she asked quietly, her free hand gesturing towards Leila's stomach.

The dead girl's eyes lowered, and when she spoke, Jasmine could now detect the sadness in her voice, the sadness that matched her smile. "I understand that if they had found me sooner, they could've saved the baby," Leila said, and as blood began to gush down from her eyes, Jasmine realised that the girl was crying, and that she was on the verge of it herself. "I knew our baby was going to be a boy, I could feel it, and that's what he wanted. But they didn't get a chance..."

Jasmine let out a cry as Leila's legs appeared to be unable to hold her body up, and she lunged for the girl, only to find her hands going through her. Feeling awkward staring over this ghost, Jasmine fell to her knees in front of her, trying to look up into Leila's face under the thick curtain of hair. Her throat tightened momentarily, before she spoke. "Leila, did he know you were pregnant?" Jasmine asked, her voice soft.

Leila nodded her head, before looking up at the Queen through lidded eyes. "He knew, it's why he blames himself," she whispered, the red tears still flowing down her cheeks.

"Why does he blame himself?"

"I don't know," Leila replied, her voice hoarse. "I'm the one to blame, I'm the one that refused to listen to him. And he couldn't have stopped me – the army had called him away... he was intending to quit the army when the baby was born, to be with us... and he left the army after he found out what happened, but the army don't let a captain just walk away."

Jasmine felt a chill sweep through her body as she recalled the scars across Jafar's front.

Despite the fact that Jasmine couldn't touch her, despite the fact that she was certain that she should be feeling some sort of jealously towards the woman, Jasmine wanted nothing more than to comfort Leila, realising that they were all in the same boat. None of them had asked for the cruel blows that had been delivered to them; they had all simply tried to deal with it the best they could, some better than others. "You're telling me this... why don't you just tell Jafar that it's not his fault?" Jasmine asked uncertainly.

Leila looked up at her now, her eyes wide as she shook her head. "I can't... I can't come to him like this, I want his last memory of me to be good ones; I can only watch over him," she whispered, his voice pleading.

Fantastic. So scare me instead.

"But I need you to do something for me, Jasmine," Leila continued, a statement and not a question, and Jasmine sighed inwardly. She'd been afraid of that.

"What is it?" she asked, careful not to agree to anything that she hadn't heard yet.

Leila clasped her hands against her chest, and her request surprised Jasmine. "Protect Jafar."

"Protect Jafar?" Jasmine repeated, her voice high with confusion and the overwhelming urge to laugh, but the look of torture on Leila's face killed the urge. "The people are the ones that need protecting from him; what does he need protection from?"

"Himself."

"How?"

"By protecting yourself. Please."

As the girls stood, Jasmine found herself nodding an agreement to the request, which on its own sounded so strange but in her heart, Jasmine understood it.

She watched as small smile broke out on Leila's face, and they closed their eyes as Jasmine felt Leila's lips very lightly press against her own, rough lips against smooth lips. She did not attempt to fight the ghost, knowing without realising that Leila only desired to share the connection with the only other person who had been in her shoes. "Thank you, Jasmine," Leila breathed against Jasmine's lips. "May Allah help you."

And before she moved away, Leila's eyes opened wide, and Jasmine felt a shudder of fright pass over her as the bony, bleeding hand pressed against her pregnant stomach. "And may he help this little one, for I believe you will be meeting her very soon."

With that, Jasmine watched as Leila's hand slipped through her skin, and she had to hold herself from screaming as she felt the twist in her stomach, the kicking of her baby, the rush of blood racing out of her. She stared up at Leila, begging her not to do this, not to make her suffer the way Jafar had, and just before she passed out from pain, Jasmine felt her eyes close now, willingly, on their own.

And when she woke again, she woke with a start, the pain shooting around her body, and Jasmine had to press her lips tightly together in order not to make a sound.

She uncurled her body gently from the chair in the chambers she shared with Jafar, who remained asleep in their bed, unaware of his wife's awakening. It was dark out, but Jasmine knew that her baby didn't care what the time was. All she knew was the baby waiting impatiently inside her, ready to go, and the fluid that now covered the seat she was on, and drenching her nightgown, was her body's indicator of that.

Carefully, her hands supporting her back, she crept around to Jafar's side of the bed, kneeling down slowly and shaking his shoulder, desperate to wake him up, and she smiled when she saw his eyes open tiredly.

"She wants to meet us, now."

*

Dawn was breaking as Aladdin moved down the corridors of the palace, towards the commotion that had awoken him earlier. He did not have far to travel to find the source of a noise – Jafar and the Sultan waiting outside a closed door, the Sultan waiting calmly with excitement, and Jafar stalking the corridor, the frustration and impatience clearly showing on his face.

Neither noticed the boy coming towards them, until he spoke. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice cautious.

The Sultan clapped his hands merrily. "She's about to have the baby!"

"She is?" Aladdin asked, his voice warm at the idea, before he frowned in annoyance. "How come no one told me?"

"Why would anyone tell you?" Jafar demanded, whirling on his step midstride and glaring at Aladdin, his harshness firmly in place despite the happiness that was taking place about him on the other side of the door. "You didn't need to know, it's not your child!"

"Come, now – " the Sultan began, attempting to make some sort of peace between the two men, but found himself stream-rolled.

"It doesn't matter if it's not my child!" Aladdin shouted, his frustration towards the entire event beginning to explode at a most inconvient time. "I'm sure Jasmine would want me here!"

"What makes you so certain?"

"Because she really loves – "

"Would the lot of you shut up?!"

The three men turned guilty towards the door that had opened, to meet the nurse that stood in the doorway, short in stature but the hands on her hips and the dark glare on her face more than made up for her lack of height. She ignored Aladdin, and turned her attention to the older men. "I already told you two, go away! The Queen is already under pressure at the moment and the last thing she needs is you lot shouting out here, and no, again, you can't come in!"

The last part of her speech was directed to Jafar, who had opened his mouth to speak, but decided not to say anything at the answer to his silent question.

The nurse sighed. "Look, your majesty," she looked up at the Sultan, her voice quieter now. "You should know by now that this sort of thing will take hours, you have no excuse for waiting around. So could you please take these two off and make yourselves useful, and someone will let you know when the baby has arrived?"

With that, the door was slammed shut in the men's faces, the nurse not bothering to wait for a response. There was quiet for a moment, before Jafar sighed and turned on his heel. "I'm going to go eat, there's no point in waiting around."

Aladdin watched in disbelieve, as the baby's father and grandfather began to walk away down the corridor, their conversation turning away from the event happening. He felt his teeth clench as he watched them, and could not help the shout that burst from his mouth. "How can you think of doing anything else at a time like this?"

The Sultan and Jafar froze and turned to face him, and before he could be stopped, Jafar glared at the boy. "Are you deaf?" he asked, a growl evident through his teeth. "This will take hours. If you want to sit and wait, that's fine; don't expect anyone else to."

Aladdin watched in anger as the two walked away, before sliding down the wall to sit next to the door, to wait.

*

It hadn't been long before Aladdin himself had grown bored of waiting, upon the realisation that the nurse really had meant that the birth could take hours. It wasn't until another nurse found him in the courtyard late in the morning and beckoned him over, with a small smile on her lips, that he returned to Jasmine's room, and silently stepped inside.

The room was bare, the faint autumn wind from outside gently rustling the curtains. The Sultan greeted him excitedly, but with a small finger to his lips to warn Aladdin to be quiet, and lead the boy over to the bed in the centre of the room.

Jasmine sat up against a small mountain of pillows, her hair out and spilling over them, her body nearly lost under the amount of covers that had been placed on her to keep out any chill. He spied Jafar hovering above her, his hands resting on Jasmine's shoulders, as if keeping guard over her and the little bundle of white and pink blankets secured in her arms.

Aladdin tried to fight back the smile, despite the dark look that crossed Jafar's face as he came closer, his fingers gently tightening on Jasmine's shoulders. She looked up as he sat next to the bed, her attention distracted from the tiny baby, and she smiled at him, a smile of happiness but one that echoed the tiredness that showed in her eyes.

"Aladdin, hi," she near-whispered, her voice tired also but pleased to see her friend. Slowly and gingerly, she twisted her body to become face-to-face with him, pulling away from the cool embrace of her husband, and she gently lowered the bundle of blankets down for Aladdin to see. "I want you to meet her... this is Princess Aziza."

Aladdin studied Aziza quietly, the sleeping baby taking no notice of the world around her. Despite rarely having seen a baby, Aladdin thought she was perfect – a fine mess of dark hair, small curved lips, and long black eyelashes resting against smooth, cinnamon skin. "Powerful and beloved..." Aladdin murmured, the meaning of the child's name echoed around the room softly. "It fits."

"Doesn't it?" Jasmine agreed, her smile one that only a mother could produce, as she gazed down at her daughter tiredly. "Do you want to hold her?"

His heart lifted, excited at the idea of holding such a precious thing, until he glanced up, to see the scowl on Jafar's face at the very idea. He could hear the Sultan sigh, and deciding that right now, it was better to play things safe for Aziza's sake, he declined. "Not right now," Aladdin muttered, gently stroking Aziza's cheek lightly with one finger. "But she's beautiful, Jas."

He swallowed tightly as Jasmine gently gathered her daughter back, and then as she looked up at her husband. "She is, isn't she?" she asked, her words meant as a response for Aladdin, but not the warm, genuine, loving smile that swept onto her face, the one directed for the husband above her.

It was all too much for Aladdin, as he walked quickly across the room and out the door, away from his nightmare.

TBC