Jafar watched from the tower window. Something he hadn't done since his overthrow of Agrabah, but he now found its impending height and solitude quite necessary. It's where he felt safest to watch her. She was down below smiling as she strolled arm in arm with her hand maiden. Hamed was down there too at a small table as a servant fluffed the cushion behind his back. Jasmine came to her father's side, gave him a kiss and took a seat next to him as they were served tea and biscuits.

Jasmine laughed, placing a gentle hand to her chest and leaned back in her chair. Jafar doubted that Hamed could ever be comically genius and wondered if Jasmine laughed that way purposely, just to irk him. Surely she felt Jafar watching her and knew that she was tearing him apart one piece at a time.

Jafar's chest tightened and he clamped his mouth into a hardened line. He didn't know where else to go that would give him escape of her. He'd even avoided Jasmine for nearly an entire month, insisting (to himself more than anyone else) that it was to let her heal in peace. But even that hadn't been effective. No matter how much space he wedged between them, Jasmine was there – surrounding the air he breathed, her perfume like toxicity to the atmosphere. She assaulted the peacefulness of the palace with her sing-song voice and caricature laugh.

Jafar open and closed his hands on his staff. He'd neglected it as of late having felt confident enough in his ascent into sovereign authority to not need the feel of the crutch-like object any longer. Due to one child that confidence had now slipped.

Jasmine let out another wave of laughter and he knew for a fact she was exaggerating her cackle so that it could reach him. He cringed and slunk away from the window and headed down towards his (current) room. At least he knew where Jasmine wouldn't be lurking and he could try and get some work done.

Jasmine snorted into a handkerchief as Hamed made a silly face. He pulled his neck in, dropped his chin down to his chest, and crossed his eyes. His neck rolls doubling in pudginess was the bonus that sent Jasmine into a fit of giggles.

"Baba, stop, please." She laughed, "Oh. You're so silly, father. I haven't laughed that hard in so long." Jasmine reeled in her giggle, taking a sip of herbed tea.

Hamed released his silly expression and suddenly became solemn. Looking at the table as if something troubled him.

"Baba . . . what is it? You can keep making a silly face if you want to?" Jasmine set down the china and touched his droopy shoulder gently.

He just wasn't the man he'd been before. True he was mobile again and more alert, but it wasn't him. Sometimes he would be happy and goofy. But more often than not he stared off with his mind lost somewhere in time. And Jasmine would lose him all over again.

"Baba? Hey, it's okay," Jasmine clutched his slack hand while the other worked soothingly to rub circles on his back. Her skin felt tight on her face as she held back frustrated tears, and she looked around for someone to help.

Blessedly Razoul just so happened to come out to pay the Royals a visit. He'd recently been promoted as the new Grand Royal Vizier to the Sultan – more than likely something Jafar deeply despised – and was dressed for the part, although he still carried a sword on his hip. Jasmine had been so happy for her friend and knew Razoul would be a wonderful Vizier. Just as he was already a wonderful servant of the palace and a trustworthy friend.

Jasmine gave Razoul a glossy, round eyed, look and he nodded gently to her and knelt down beside Hamed; uncaring if his black and gold thobe was tarnished from kneeling on the ground.

"Your Majesty, how about we go take a rest. Mm?" Razoul cooed as gently as his gruff voice would allow.

Hamed nodded indistinctly and Razoul helped him to his feet.

"I love you father. Sleep well," Jasmine kissed Hamed's soft hand and gave it a loving squeeze. He didn't say anything but she could see a twinkle in his eye, and Razoul led him away gently towards the palace.

Jasmine leaned back in her chair then shot up off it with a stiffened groan. Her injuries were all but completely healed, but they still ached when she did something forgetfully – like throwing her back carelessly against a stiff chair. Jasmine was alone, once more, and she tore apart her biscuit with loss of appetite. She looked up towards one of the towers. The one she knew Jafar usually spent his time in. She'd half hoped to see him standing there in the window. But when he wasn't, Jasmine's heart settled back down and she clutched her stomach and drank her tea thoughtfully.

It was high noon when Jafar left his meeting with the board of counsel men. And Razoul. Although Jafar hardly counted that ruffian as a worthy adviser. He had simply needed to fill the position. And Razoul was the only one Jafar knew that would be too stupid to ever challenge Jafar's decisions and wise enough to remain loyal.

Jafar had planned a trip to Israel pertaining to information about the Forty Thieves gang. A man from his past had vital information on where Jafar might find, and then annihilate, them and Jafar had finalized the arrangements to make the trip. Although he hated the idea of leaving his city in the hands of one inept former guard and a mindless old twit, it was inevitable to make the journey.

The last loose end to tie up would be that shrew of a woman. Jafar didn't want to take Jasmine, but he very well couldn't just leave her here alone again. Considering what happened the last time he left her. Jasmine would indubitably parole the heathenish streets of Agrabah the moment Jafar left, and then, to her credit, would invite every vagabond to come and live in the palace. He was going to be gone for a full week. Maybe longer depending. That was enough time for Agrabah to slip back into ruin and the palace to be turned into a freak show.

Which meant he had only one option left.

When Jasmine came back from morning tea on the terrace, she stopped along the way to see a friend of hers in the kitchen.

"Hold on now, there Lass. You didn't have to do this for me!"

Jasmine smiled kindly, "Of course I did Geraldine. You have been such a wonderful asset in our lives and during my healing process. I don't think I would've survived had it not been for your medicinal soup."

"Oh. I've never owned nuthin' so beautiful before." Geraldine's freckled face split open as her rosy cheeks turned a hue of the inside of a strawberry, "You're a fine Queen, your Majesty. And an even greater woman. I thank you." She kissed Jasmine on the cheek and Jasmine bloomed with joy and hugged her warmly.

"Have you seen Mia? I had a gift for her too."

Geraldine held up the emerald gown as if she were looking at a new born babe. "The little timid lass? Aye, she's probably in your room packin' for the trip." She said without taking her eyes off the garment.

Jasmine's smile dropped and she turned from the pastries she had been eyeing. "Trip? Mia's . . . leaving?"

Geraldine's face fell then twisted into an empathetic frown, "You don't know. Do ya?"

Jasmine bounded up to her chambers with fists clenched at her sides and found Mia where Geraldine said she'd be. Packing suitcases and bags with Jasmine's belongings. "Mia . . . what." She said breathily. "What are you doing?"

Mia dropped her half-finished task and hurried from the half-packed trunk to Jasmine with a smile. But then looked concernedly at the Queen's pinched face.

"My Queen, I'm just following orders and packing your things for the trip. I promise I'm taking care of your items."

That was hardly what worried Jasmine. "Following whose orders?" Jasmine let out sourly still stuck in the doorway.

Mia folded her hands in front, bringing her shoulders in, "Well – the Sultan's of course. I assumed you knew, your Majesty?"

"How could you not tell me? Jafar!" Jasmine marched through the halls as she followed Jafar's brisk pace. The clanging of his staff echoing through the halls almost as loud as Jasmine's shouting.

"I don't have to tell you anything, that's why." He bemoaned in a calm voice, but was quickly losing patience.

"But you should have asked me first. Asked if I even wanted to go! Not had me hear it from the servants!"

He spun around on her with a concealed expression, but a dark light ignited his eyes and made Jasmine catch her breath. "We're traveling to Israel today." He showed his teeth, "Now you know." Then he moved past her to walk in the direction they'd just came.

Jasmine's mouth open and closed as she followed after him once more. She doubted he actually had a destination in mind and had been stepping about in large strides gratuitously to deflect her nagging.

"Jafar. I don't want to go. That's the point. I – my people just had a crisis. I'm not leaving them so soon after a disaster." Jasmine exclaimed with brittleness, and stomped her foot as she halted and crossed her arms. "Or did you already forget all that Agrabah went through because it didn't affect you personally."

He froze with the pound of his staff. His posture stiffened as he slow turned back around. Jasmine noted how his neck was corded and the muscles in his cheeks twitched as he glared at her. Jafar stepped methodically as he spoke deeply from the back of his throat.

"Allow me to remind you something, little girl." His eyes turned into black pits and Jasmine shriveled down a size. "There is not one single, solitary moment in which I will ever have to explain myself to you. I am the sole ruler of my kingdom. Everything in the city. Everyone on this soil, belongs to me, obeys me, and worships me."

Jasmine glared up at him, keeping her chin flat as she watched him tower her from the top of her eyes.

"More than anything, you are mine. You always have been and you will be until the day I decide you're no longer of any use." His fingers snatched Jasmine's chin forcing her to look up and straight into his eyes. Her face smarting under his viselike grip.

"Everything you are, everything you do, has come to pass because I fucking allowed it to. Make no mistake. You are not your own. You are not in power. And you most certainly are not my equal. And if you ever question my authority again – if I so much as catch a whiff of disobedience from you. I will have you killed." His mouth spoke against her face as he bared his teeth.

"Is that clear?" he finished without room for discussion and let her go with a forceful shove. Jasmine rubbed at her smarted cheek.

She looked him over trying to mask her trembling, "Oh, it's quite clear, indeed. It's clear that I was an idiot to ever believe you could change. That you could be anything more than a twisted heartless bastard."

He showed his teeth and straightened calmly, "You're absolutely right, little Jasmine. And I suppose you'll not be so foolish as to make that mistake again."

Her breath swelled in her lungs and stayed there painfully full. Her name sounded like honey on his lips. A rare and sweet delicacy that she rarely ever got. Albeit at the same time his coldness made her belly twist. She had hoped he was changing. Had seen a glimmer of promise after the fire and during her healing phase. But whoever that man was that she thought she saw, clearly had been buried back down under the muck of his evil hatred, and there was no promise in bringing him back.

"No. I won't." Jasmine added in response, then left in a huff, her feelings a little bruised by him, as always.

Jasmine gave a hug to her friends and father as she departed. Each goodbye taking a piece of Jasmine's heart. It was only for a little while but she felt as if she were saying farewell for good. When she hugged Geraldine, gave Mia her gift, a bracelet, and hugged Razoul, she finally came to her father. He smiled kindly as if to a stranger and it broke her heart that in that moment of goodbye he was far away in his mind. Jasmine kissed him one last time and painfully left her home behind.

The journey had been tedious and painful. Hot and cold too, (somehow in unison) and Jasmine's legs began to chafe from the horses back. The last four hours had gone by painstakingly slow with views of sand dunes, more sand, and, oh yes, the rear end of a black stallion.

Jafar had perched Jasmine onto a brown mare that was carrying the majority of the luggage, and the horse was tied to the steed in front – Jafar's horse. Because naturally Jasmine couldn't be trusted to ride a horse freely, lest she try to run away. When Jafar had told her such nonsense she had tried to reason with him.

"Where on earth would I run away too? I'm your wife, Jafar. Not your prisoner!"

"There's hardly a distinction between the two." He'd said equivocally.

And that had been the end of the discussion. Which now left Jasmine at the mercy of a horse's arse. Literally.

"Could we umm – take a break maybe?" she called up front. She didn't want to sound whiney but she'd never ridden and horse in her life, and her butt was bruising, legs were chaffing, and her bladder was becoming tight.

"Jafar?" She rolled her neck like a toddler begging for a toy, "Please?"

He remained rigid pretending he couldn't hear her whine. She envied him for being able to hold that posture for so long and on such an uncomfortable ride. Meanwhile her lower back tweaked and she hunched over holding tightly to the horn of the saddle. Which was probably a most improper way for a young Queen to sit.

"Dammit." Jasmine whispered to herself clenching her thighs together as nature called. She looked down at the soft sand beneath her, and held her breath, swooped a leg over and fell off the horse. Her body plummeting to the ground as she rolled out twice.

Jafar looked over and muttered a dark curse as he brought the horses to a halt.

"What the blasted hell do you think you're doing, woman!?"

Jasmine dusted off and flipped her sand coated ponytail over her back and straightened her outfit.

"If you must know," Jasmine called out as she tapped the edge of a sand dune with her foot to test it's stability. "I am human. Unlike you. And once in a blue moon . . . I have to pee." Jasmine said the last phrase quickly feeling a tinge of embarrassment at the back of her neck.

She heard Jafar mutter something else under his breath, as she dipped down into the slope where he couldn't see her and relieved her aching bladder.

Jasmine smiled to herself with a thought. "Jafar." She called back. "I would just like to make a point in saying that if I wanted to run away I could. I was still able to jump off and get away regardlessof you tying my horse to yours."

"Go ahead and try, then. It's been a while since I've given you a beating and by my count you deserve several."

Jasmine rolled her eyes hearing the lightness of his threat.

"Hurry. Up." Jafar barked a moment after, wrapping the leather skin reigns around his knuckles in vexation. They had a fifteen-hour trip until they'd reach their destination. Which meant they'd have to spend tonight in the wilderness and with fleeting hours of sunlight, Jafar was in a hurry to get to a place suitable for a campground.

He was ready to just leave her there in the sand when he heard her scream. His pulse quickening as she jumped off the steed and ran back to where he'd left her.

"Little mouse?!" He shouted kicking up sand as he reached the edge of the dune and saw her on her back, "Jasmine!"

Her eyes bulged as she gave another primal scream, her arms giving out beneath her as she clambered backwards. The viper hissed as is darted quickly up the sandy dune. The sand crumbled beneath her weight and she slid towards the black cobra and shrieked, covering her face with her arms. A sheathing whoosh resounded as bone crunched. The commotion dying out as Jasmine's heartbeat thrashed inside her ears.

She peeked out and seen the snake dead at her feet with a sword sticking straight out of its head. She let out a whimper of relief and swatted at the tears in her eyes. The earth trickled next to her as Jafar slid down the side, sweat beading his creased forehead.

She'd never before been so happy to see him. "Oh. Jafar thank–."

"– What the hell were you thinking!?" He bellowed removing his sword from the snake and pointing the end of it at her. Jasmine flinched.

"Why the bloody hell do you keep trying to get yourself killed!? If you wanted to die so badly, you could've just told me long ago and have been done with it!" Jafar spat as he refused to help her up.

A tiny noise of fear came from her throat as Jasmine retracted her hand. She'd needed to pee and coincidentally nature had lashed out at her. But how was that her fault?

"This is exactly why I can't leave you alone for even a goddamn minute. Get back on the horse." He shouted hovering over her. "Now!"

Jasmine shook sinking deeper into the sand and wished it would swallow her whole. Jafar stormed off climbing the unsteady dune and she clamped her trembling mouth and followed dejectedly up towards the horses.

Jafar pinched her sides in an aggressive manner as he practically threw her onto the mare's back and then stormed ahead to mount his own. The animals resumed their gait once more and Jasmine bore daggers into the back of Jafar's head.

"Thanks for the help. Jerkoff." She whispered too loudly and covered her mouth.

"Keep it up, Jasmine. No one will hear you scream from out here."

Jafar and Jasmine came to a flatland of hardened dry ground. Its environment surrounded by red mountains, shrubbery, and a straggle of trees. Jafar dismounted his steed majestically and Jasmine did too, albeit clumsily, as she tripped over her own feet and landing on her knees on the way down. Jafar looked back over his shoulder and she hopped up and faked a smile as if nothing had happened.

Jafar rolled his eyes and led the horses to an acacia tree and tied them to the trunk and gave them water. It was so relieving to finally stretch her legs and not feel rushed to get back on that dastardly ride. She contemplated walking the rest of the way tomorrow – anything would be better than riding bull legged on a jarring ride.

"We need to set up camp. I'll pitch the tent, and make the fire. Can you manage to gather kindling," he turned to face her with a sneer, "Or will you screw that up as well and get attacked by a small woodland creature?"

She huffed throwing her hands down over her outfit to shove off imaginary dirt. "I would hardly call a cobra a woodland creature, Jafar."

He remained deadpanned and unconvinced.

"Sure, I'll try my best . . . but as you said, I'll probably screw it up. Something I learned from watching you." She muttered loudly so he could hear, and gave a sweetheart grin even as his deep-set eyes turned dark.

Jasmine scavenged the camp site for kindling. She'd made several fires when cooking in the brothel, and though they usually used coal (or in worse cases dried animal dung) Jasmine was confident in her abilities, and soon had a decent pile of twigs and brush. Jafar finished their sleeping hut and picked up two rocks, smacked them together and lit a blaze. Jasmine bent down to its base and blew on it a little until the amber birth turned into a full-grown blaze.

She leaned up on her heels and gave Jafar a smile. But he stood ignoring her, and went to make a bed within the tent. Jasmine rolled her eyes and decided to give up trying all together. He was more easily agitated than usual. Maybe it had been their month apart from each other that did it. Maybe he didn't want her anymore – didn't find her attractive because of her new scars or because he realized he didn't need her to make Agrabah great again. All viable outcomes – none of them reassuring.

Jasmine grabbed paan, hummus, and strawberries from a satchel and arranged it on some cloth for each of them. She thought of placing Jafar's setting next to hers but decided agaisnt it given his current avoidance towards her.

The winds had calmed considerably though a new wintry bitterness fell upon the land. The surrounding mountains seemed to enable a frosty birth over the ground and promised a long frigid night was in store. Her and Jafar ate in silence – the quiet proving to Jasmine that the only thing worse than fighting with Jafar was being dead silent with him. Clearly, he was pissed at her. Maybe for everything. Maybe for nothing. He was always angry, always hateful. She knew all that. But this level of weird was unlike him, and Jasmine tried to ease the tension. Willing to be the only adult in that moment.

"Jafar, I want to apologize." She started softly, bringing her legs closer underneath her bum. Jafar watched the fire as she continued. "I know that . . . I'm difficult at times, and my choices keep putting you in danger with me. For that, I'm sorry."

His dark eyes looked up through the tops of his lids. The shadows of flames making them deeper and his hard face more angular. Jasmine chewed her lip and hugged her stomach as a shield from the coolness of the air and his relentless eyes.

"I didn't see the snake." She sputtered disconcertingly, "That was my fault and . . . I didn't listen to you when you told me to go inside after the fire. I know now that I should have."

His brows tucked as he watched her cynically.

Jasmine shrugged to him as if able to read the question of her motives. "I just wanted to let you know I appreciate your kindness, and I'll try and take your – advice, more often." Her face scrunched finding the compliments come out awkwardly. Especially when admitting to her "enemy" that he was right, and she was wrong. But it felt good to be the bigger person, and Jasmine began to eat her meal again; not waiting to see if Jafar was shooting spiteful glances. (Though she knew he probably was.)

They'd finished eating as the stars blanketed the deep sky. A desert animal called out in the distance and Jasmine huddled closer to the light. She carefully watched Jafar from across the flames. His face still had the firm leanness of a younger man, but lines where trouble and sorrow and weariness had failed to cover their tracks made Jafar look older. Especially when he was frowning. But on the off chance that he would smile, or even look calm, Jasmine could see the younger version of him. The boy she desperately wanted to know more of, and the past she couldn't keep her mind off. Young Jafar – innocent, loving Jafar – might still be in there.

He darted his gaze up at her across the fire, and Jasmine pulled swiftly back in a straight posture at being caught. Jasmine rubbed uneasiness away by rolling the palm of her hands over her knees. She wanted to divert from the fact that she'd been discovered gawking and tried for another conversation.

"So. Who are we staying with again?" she asked.

He watched her passively, "An old acquaintance."

"Oh, so a friend?" Jasmine pipped up giving a stiff smile – the bitter night limiting the mobility of her cheeks.

He looked at her as if she were some dolt. "If that's what he was, that's what I would have said."

Jasmine side stepped a possible argument. "That'll be nice to see someone from your past . . . again," she assumed in reference to Henrietta's visit. Although, given what she knew of his former life there wasn't much good lurking there. And as expected Jafar replied with disdain.

"I'd rather never visit my past again, yet, for some god-awful reason, it keeps showing up anyways. This is a business trip, nothing more."

Jasmine took his stoned expression as the end of another meager conversation and let it go.

She yawned and Jafar took a breath.

"It's time to call it a night. Let's go." Jafar announced, then stood and put out the fire just as Jasmine came to her feet and tried to find the tent in the darkness.

She heard Jafar shuffle somewhere nearby and tried to follow his footsteps with her hands waving in front.

Her head ricocheted off something hard, "Ow!" She winced rubbing her head where she had smacked into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jafar."

"Sure you are," he droned reaching down to take hold of her hand and led her towards the inside of their tent.

He let go of her hand once inside, lit a lantern, and tossed her a robe to cover up in for the night. Jasmine slipped it over her outfit, and slipped into the makeshift bed. It was sufficiently comfortable enough with thick pelts on top, and Jasmine easily found herself overcome with exhaustion.

The light blew out a moment later, and she closed her eyes to sleep. Movement came from the other side as the blankets were lifted and placed back down, and a new warmth filled her backside.

Crap. She'd half expected him to sleep somewhere else other than next to her. It had after all been a month since they'd shared a room, and even then, Jafar never slept next to Jasmine in bed. Even on their dreadful wedding night, Jafar hadn't lied next to her. The shock of his actions now caused her head to spin.

In addition, his insistent elusiveness and the cold dark wall that was always between them, had given Jasmine the impression that he might never touch her again. Allah, how she had been wrong. And what was worse was she didn't want it to stop, and in fact craved more from him.

Jafar formed his body with hers as they both laid on their sides. He wrapped a strong arm over her belly and pulled her into his chest until their bodies felt like one. Jasmine's eyes fluttered and she suddenly felt frozen from within and began to tremble.

"What is it now?" Jafar's voice was husky with sleep and that made Jasmine's breath catch and her tummy tighten. "Does this hurt you?" He said a little gentler and eased away from her back.

"No!" Jasmine squeaked surprising both of them. She cleared her throat and reigned in her quavering nerves. "I mean, no. It doesn't hurt. I'm . . . cold. So, you can hold me closer – if you want."

Jafar smirked bemused and pulled her into his body once more, nuzzled her hair with his nose, and within moments was in a deep sleep.

Jasmine however couldn't close her eyes one bit. She couldn't move or relax or breathe or think of anything other than how wickedly delicious this moment was. She knew they'd have to sleep together again, and soon perform marital duties, and had sort of dreaded it. But this? God, how sexy it was and surprisingly comforting. Jasmine made a low whine in her throat and wriggled her backside into Jafar a little more.

Oh Allah, why does this feel so good? Please let him ruin it by forcing me to do something awful. Please, I'm begging you to let this moment be tarnished. Don't dangle hope in front of me if you're not going to let it stay.

Jasmine told herself that Jafar held her this way because it was practical. They were after all on the ground in the middle of the desert in subzero temperatures. It would be pathetic to revere his actions as if emotions were laced within them.

Despite the hard facts of reality, Jasmine was consumed by the moment and savored every bit of it. The masculine width of his chest, the tight feel of his abdomen against her. His heart beat slow and strong at her back. His freed arm had slunk underneath their shared pillow, leaving his hand to hang easily from the end. Jasmine lifted her head and gently touched his fingers. Pressing the tips of hers against his and then felt the smooth hair on his knuckles. Jasmine kept her hand on his and mused with a smile. They fit perfectly together like this and for the first time in so long, Jasmine felt safe and content to be right where she was.

Jasmine's eyes grew heavy as she listened to Jafar breathe against her. It didn't take long until her own breath had synchronized with his, and she forced silent any trace of doubt or fear, and allowed herself to sleep peacefully with her husband. A man that scared her. Yet challenged her to be better. A man that inflicted pain because he only held the capacity for dysfunction – but deep down. Way deep, deep, below his callousness and brutality, there was a boy there, who just needed love, but was too afraid to say so.

Jasmine fell asleep and dreamed of terrible images: a lost boy, a bloodied woman, and an evil enchantress.