AN: I usually don't do this, but there was a guest review that I just had to answer real quick.

FairyNotes: Don't fear. It was just Genie having some fun. Thankfully, to my knowledge Hawkmoth knows nothing of this world or the existence of Genies. Though it could be debated if they would be of any real use to him. Also nice to see a fellow Miraculous fan. :-)

Okay, on with our regularly scheduled program.

Chapter Fourteen: Grand Entry

Aladdin found himself in a frenzied mass as everyone prepared to travel the last several miles to Agrabah in the cool, predawn air. The plan was to reach the city by midmorning and perform the entry parade then.

He was dressed in white and gold, what many claimed to be the most complimentary tones for him. Genie's lamp was tucked into a bag under his loose, outer robe. Once the parade was finished, Genie would slip back in to ensure his safety, at least until they received their rooms.

The prince was half-jostled to the newly decorated float that he would be sitting on. He cried out when Carpet suddenly swept him upward. "Thanks, Carpet," he said. He settled into the relative safety of the high seat. "Can you find Jephtha or Bartholomew for me?" he asked.

Carpet nodded before zipping away. A moment later, it returned, carrying both men.

They smiled and nodded. "You sent for us, your highness?" Jephtha said.

"I needed to know if you managed to restore the book," Aladdin said.

"We could only restore it to within a week of its damaged state," Bartholomew said. "So anything added to it during the last three to five days before the fire claimed it is forever lost."

"We have placed it in an appropriate box for presentation and entrusted it to Jalil," Jephtha said.

"Thank you, both of you," Aladdin said.

"Anything to help our deliverer's courtship," Bartholomew said. He ran a hand along Carpet's "shoulders." "It's wonderful seeing one of our old friends again," he added.

"I have yet to offer him a permanent home in Ababwa," Aladdin confessed with a smile. "But I mean to get to it."

Carpet brightened, rippling on the air.

"I believe that would be a 'yes,'" Jephtha said with a laugh.

"Excellent," Aladdin said.

"Whoa! Now I'm not sure I can get used to that."

Aladdin turned to see Khaleel sitting atop the broad shoulders of Genie's elongated body. "Best way to see Al Man when Carpet is occupied," Genie said.

Khaleel rolled his eyes with a smile. "Everything and everyone is ready to go," he told Aladdin.

"Great," Aladdin said. "And everything from Genie is prepared?"

"Right-o, kid-o," Genie said.

Aside from a few hiccups, all the rest of the rehearsals yesterday had gone off without a hitch. So aside from maybe a quick rehearsal within sight of Agrabah, everyone was ready.

"Alright," Aladdin said. "Onward then." Minutes later, they started out. Aladdin looked out into the distant horizon. Before noon, he hoped to see his princess again.

Jasmine checked her appearance in a hall mirror after breakfast. Gold was the color today, with accents of turquoise with sheer, white organza sleeves gathered at her wrists. She couldn't help but think that the gown was somewhat reminiscent of what she wore in her chambers when Aladdin managed to sneak into the palace. She smiled, the hope in her heart rekindling that he would arrive today.

For now however, she had plans to join Baba in his study for tea and make a case for some needed change in her people's favor. It had been far too long since the Royal Family of Agrabah had celebrated with their people, and Baba needed to know what was happening beyond the palace walls.

She caught the servant bringing the tea things to Baba's study. "I'm going there now," she said. "I'll take it the rest of the way."

The servant smiled. "So much like the queen," he said, before dropping his gaze once again and excusing himself.

Jasmine's smile grew sad. Yes, Mother used to take Baba's tea to him if she managed to catch the servant in time. She'd almost forgotten. Taking a deep breath to fight back the sorrow and tears, she walked to the study with the tray.

She entered the room to find Baba already hard at work at his desk. "Hello, Baba," she greeted, touching a kiss to his cheek as she took the tea tray to a table surrounded by couches by the back wall.

"Good morning, my daughter," Baba greeted with a smile. "You seem happier these days."

"Happier, Baba?" Jasmine inquired. Maybe she was playing a little coy, but she honestly wanted to know what he had observed before confirming or denying anything.

"Your eyes, they sparkle more," Baba said as he left his desk in favor of the table, even as he carried a parchment over with him. "Your smile is one I haven't seen in a long time. And don't think I haven't noticed the special care you and Dalia have taken with your appearance." He smiled, eyes twinkling. "What has changed in my little girl's life?"

Jasmine smiled, sitting opposite Baba. "I have reason to believe that I met a representative of a possible suitor. What I heard of this prince piques my interest."

"Enough for you to care what he thinks of you, unlike the others," Baba said.

"Possibly," Jasmine said. She wasn't about to reveal that she suspected that she had already met the prince himself. Not to mention, she did not wish to go much further or it would be the question of how she met the "representative." She managed to steer the conversation to other topics, neutral ground before she attempted to present her case.

The time was enjoyable, as it often was when Jafar wasn't present. When it seemed that Baba was in a particularly favorable mood, Jasmine took her chance.

Turning from the scale model of their city, she said, "Baba, I've been thinking. Maybe this year we could celebrate the Harvest Festival outside the palace walls. Like we used to."

"That's a nice thought, Jasmine," Baba said. "But the city is too dangerous."

Jasmine strove to keep her tone neutral. "If only you would go into the city–"

"Jasmine–"

"And see what Jafar is doing to Agrabah." She had to make him understand. Make him see that their people were suffering.

"My sultan!" Speak of the shaytan and he appears. The darkly robed vizier was halted by Rajah's growl. Hakim and another guard stopped just inside the door.

"Jafar," Baba said. "I was wondering where you were."

"I was delayed in the city by an urgent matter," Jafar said. "There was a riot in the marketplace, more guards were needed."

"More guards, Baba?" Jasmine protested, trying to appeal to him.

"Yes, more guards," Jafar said, almost as though she were a child. "You wouldn't understand the dangers of the city, Princess. Venturing out rarely as you do."

Jasmine fought the urge to roll her eyes. She may not know or understand the dangers, as her near misadventure with Aladdin proved. But she knew that the answer wasn't more guards. The people needed a sultan willing to fight for them. A sultan who would help the poor and homeless prosper once again.

"But come to think of it," Jafar continued, "I did hear about your recent . . . trip."

Jasmine felt herself panic. She had never wanted Baba to know. At least not like this. Not until she had managed to convince him that they needed to better help the people of Agrabah.

"What?" Baba asked, shocked, almost breathless sounding.

"Hakim spotted her out, alone," Jafar answered. "In the marketplace."

"I told you, you are not to leave this palace," Baba scolded.

She held her ground. He had to see! "That is exactly what he wants," she said fiercely, anger on behalf of her people sparking deep inside. "For us to be prisoners while he rules in our place."

"That's enough, Jasmine," Baba said.

No, she wasn't going to be silenced again. "You have no idea of what is happening out there," she said, half-pleading for her father to listen, to understand. She turned to a hopeful ally. "Hakim, tell him," she said. "Tell the sultan what Agrabah has become. That it isn't the city we grew up in."

Hakim cast his eyes down, refused to hear her. Refused to speak in defense of their people.

She fought to keep from snapping, even as Baba approached them. "The people are threatened by your soldiers, not criminals."

"I encouraged your interest in these affairs so long as they didn't threaten your safety," Baba said. "No more."

Before Jasmine could protest–

"Your mother might be here today, if I had–" emotion stole whatever else Baba was planning to say. But the meaning was clear. He blamed their people for Mother's death.

Jasmine opened her mouth to speak.

"I will post more guards outside the princess's chambers at once," Jafar said coldly.

"Thank you, Jafar," Baba said.

Jasmine subtly shook her head. Silenced yet again. But she could have at least one last word as more of her freedom was stolen from her. "Mother would never have wanted it this way." She then turned and walked out with every ounce of dignity she possessed, even as everything inside her wanted to race from the room weeping. If she happened to take some small comfort and pleasure in Rajah scaring Jafar, neither the vizier nor Baba needed to know.

Jafar inwardly scowled at the overgrown house cat. Once he was sultan, that cat would be better controlled. Its claws and fangs removed. A fitting collar locked round its neck. Its very fire removed from its eyes.

The Sultan's words interrupted the vizier's thoughts. "All I've been trying to do is just to protect her." He sank into the chair behind his desk, his eyes echoing his doubts. "Maybe she is right," he continued as Jafar approached. "Jasmine is an intelligent woman. Perhaps we should include her in our councils."

No, no this would never do. The stupid woman would ruin all his plans, wrest away his control of her "precious Baba." She would destroy the order he had managed to create in this formerly soft kingdom. "No, my sultan, your first instincts were right," Jafar said. "You must protect her."

The sultan slumped back. "Until we find her this elusive prince," he said, softly chuckling.

Jafar almost missed the amused twinkle in the Sultan's eyes as his mind raced forward to a possibility. "But in the absence of such an event," he said, "we should think of an alternative successor to your throne, Your Majesty."

"Someone like you," the Sultan said.

"Me?" Jafar asked.

"It has to be you, Jafar," the Sultan insisted quietly.

Mirth bubbled up inside. "Me?"

"It must be you, Jafar," the Sultan said again.

"Of course, like me you silly, old fool! Give it to me now! Now!"

"Jafar."

The quiet voice broke into his indulgent daydream, bringing him back to reality.

The Sultan was waiting for a response.

Jafar quickly searched back, trying to recall what had last actually been said. Ah. Finding the "elusive" prince. The vizier forced a smile. "I'm sure our suitable prince will appear."

But, Jafar, caught up in his dreams and plans, never heard the Sultan mention what Jasmine had revealed to him. About a foreign prince's representative meeting with her to apparently extol the prince's virtues. Nor about Jasmine's apparent interest and hope that this prince might be the one.

Aladdin heaved a breath as they stood before the gates of the city. The gates that would lead straight to the palace gates. He had acknowledged that this would happen not even a week ago. But now, it was time. Many would not recognize him. But there may be some who might, like Oma.

Two great bags of gold sat at his feet, gifts for the people, as much as he could currently bestow. A few smaller bags for those who'd been especially kind to him. He was aware how great a gamble it was whenever he came first as a street rat and then as a prince. But all too often, people never looked beyond one's clothes and possessions or lack thereof.

"Your highness?" Khaleel called up. "We await your signal."

Aladdin drew a deep breath. So much more weighed in the balance for this visit. But he must go forward if he were to discover if the balance was in his favor. They had performed one final rehearsal two hours ago. A rehearsal that had smoothed out the last kinks and given Genie an opportunity to give his hyperactive enthusiasm a vent. ("Don't they look lovely, June?" "Fabulous, Harry. I love the feathers.") It was time to appear before the Royal House of Agrabah.

Prince Ali raised his gold and ivory, hooked scepter. He waved it forward in an onward motion. There was no going back. For the first time, there was not only a kingdom to save from a usurper, but also a princess's heart to win.

Jasmine glanced over at Dalia. Her friend was laying out their gowns for the Harvest Festival tonight. Frankly, the very thought of the festival now reminded her of how utterly she had failed her people yet again.

As she turned back to her book, she thought she saw something. She focused on the small flower arrangement a servant had brought in earlier. Her eyes hadn't tricked her. It was moving ever so slightly. Earthquakes were unheard of in Agrabah. Which meant that there was an unnatural cause for the tremors. Then faint calls floated on the breeze as drums and rams' horns sounded: "Clear the way! Clear the way!"

"Do you think?" Dalia asked, conspiratorially.

"We must see," Jasmine answered. She tried to reign in the wild hope, just in case it was not him. But she couldn't help the smile that blossomed at her lips at the possibility.

They were about to enter onto the last road that led directly to the palace. As they had traveled through the city, ladies had twirled in magnificent rainbows of colors, banners had spun, monkeys had greeted children, and some coins were thrown. Ali had sent Abu to deliver a bag of gold and precious jewels to Oma as they passed her rooftop. A couple more were sent to an old baker and to one of the poor families who had welcomed him into their meager shelter when bad weather kept him from returning to his minaret for the night. He would have to be sure to venture out into the city again to repay the others for their kindness.

At the moment however, the real performance was about to begin. Everyone glided or marched into their needed positions before they passed under the final archway. A handful of servants scurried up to the top of the arch with the bundles Genie had provided.

Four pure white Arabian horses displaying Ababwa's colors pranced through the archway followed close behind by drummers on camelback. Close behind them walked even more drummers and trumpeters before the guards carrying the banners came through. Then the marching, soon to be dancing, guards trailed behind to be followed by the rainbow of dancers.

Ali forced himself to relax as Genie half-marched, half-danced before the horses, twirling a flaming baton. Everything would be alright. They got this.

Jasmine had managed to bring her features under control by the time she met Baba at the entry to the balcony overlooking the palace gates. While usually where the reigning Sultan would make announcements, it now provided an excellent view of the parade streaming through the archway.

She barely noticed how various courtiers bowed as they allowed her and Baba to enter first and claim where they wished to stand at the balcony. She gazed out in amazement at the horses that could only be the color of snow. Green and gold mantled them and their riders as they were followed by others in gold upon camels, and by walkers in red. Women dressed in magenta and lavender fluttered their wing-like capes like birds ready to fly. Soldiers dressed in green with breastplates of bronze polished to a gold shine. A man who had originally been in front of the horses, twirling fire, danced and somersaulted back as each wave of new wonders parted to reveal the main attraction.

"Make way for Prince Ali," the voice of men shouting, or was it actually singing, rang forth.

Silvery women's voices joined, most definitely singing, "Say hey, it's Prince Ali."

Khaleel took a deep breath, carefully balancing the great turban on his head. Genie had certainly helped pull everything together. Now to pull through it. This could very well be the last chance he got to do this, and it had to be perfect.

Genie nodded from where he was dancing and whirling before the temporary float.

Khaleel returned the nod, smiling. Well, there was one thing that he never dreamed, but who was he to deny a new friend who'd never had a chance like this.

"Hey, clear the way in the old bazaar," they sang out together. "Hey, you! Let us through! It's a bright new star. Oh, come be the first on your block to meet his eye."

Khaleel grinned as Genie hopped around, interacting with some of the onlookers as they stared in awe at the parade.

"Make way. Here he comes! Ring bells, bang the drums! You're gonna love this guy."

Now for the first big moment. Everything had to be timed perfectly.

Jasmine barely held back a gasp as the man's blue turban exploded into a shower of glittering gold dust. It was so startling she'd almost missed the banners dropping down from the archway just behind them.

"Prince Ali, fabulous he, Ali Ababwa!" The two men sang. "Show some respect. Boy, genuflect down on one knee."

Ababwa? She couldn't immediately recall that kingdom, though it tickled something in her memory.

"Now try your best to stay calm. Brush up your Friday salaam. Then come and meet his spectacular coterie."

Jasmine was certain her heart stopped as the entire float exploded into a million petals and leaves. Seconds later, it was revealed that the man and the golden girls with their giant feathered fans were standing, even walking as though nothing had happened. Those must have been some amazing reflexes.

"Prince Ali! Mighty is he, Ali Ababwa!"

Ali slid under the archway as the bull elephant pulled the float out and onto the street. The crowds shouted and waved in excitement. He nodded and raised his hand in proper greeting to them. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as he saw the many people who had seemed so hopeless when he last saw them actually smiling.

He vaguely saw Genie and Khaleel dancing round each other at the forefront. "Strong as ten regular men! Definitely!"

He almost laughed at the claim. He watched as the soldiers slipped round the dancing women into place, slyly handing over a couple swords to Khaleel as Genie seamlessly snuck in among the crowds.

"He's faced the galloping hordes! A hundred bad guys with swords. Who sent those goons to their lords? Why Prince Ali!"

"Prince Ali!" The feminine voice caught his attention. A number of school girls stood giggling in a simple minaret, waving frantically.

He chuckled as he gave them an easy wave. He wondered how many had been giggling over his exploits as the street rat Aladdin. Possibly more than would care to admit to a prince.

Jasmine had softly giggled when Dalia nudged her about Ali's heroic exploits. She was just disappointed that the giant, kneeling camel of golden flowers was too far away for her to have a good look at the prince.

The leader in blues, who originally had the ridiculously large turban, called out, "Fellas! He's–"

"He's got seventy-five golden camels," seventy-five men carrying said camels sang forth.

Dalia teasingly rubbed her fingers together, causing Jasmine to roll her eyes. Of course. She'd be a fool not to understand that sort of boast. While not huge, those camels were large enough to be seen from the balcony.

"Now, the ladies!"

"Purple peacocks, he's got fifty-three," the women trilled, each one balancing one of the grand birds upon their heads. Aside from two whose costume made them appear to be peacocks themselves.

"When it comes to exotic type mammals," the leaders sang, riding atop a pair of ostriches each among a sizeable flock.

The entire company took over as they continued to dance. "Has he got a zoo! I am telling you, it's a world class menagerie!"

Jasmine couldn't deny that it was impressive. But was this Ali the prince she'd been waiting for?

Khaleel couldn't help but roll his eyes and chuckle as Genie took to the top of a harem's balcony.

"Prince Ali! Handsome is he, Ali Ababwa!" Genie sang, momentarily supplying words for the girls to sing. "That physique! How can I speak? Weak at my knees! So get on down in that square. Adjust your veil and prepare to gawk and gravel and stare at Prince Ali!"

They were almost through. Just a little more to go and they would manage to either make it or break it. At this point, it looked as though they were going to make it. "Okay, everyone. Keep up the energy," he quietly willed.

"He's got ninety-five white Persian monkeys," the company sang.

Khaleel knelt by some kids who stood hopping and laughing as the monkeys leaped and tumbled by. "He's got the monkeys! A bunch of monkeys!" Oh, yeah. They could do this. So long as everyone managed to remember the huge breath before they awaited the sultan.

Ali looked down at the crowds, especially the children. He scooped up some gold, the first since they passed through that last road before the archway, and tossed it to the laughing children. They squealed in delight.

"And to view them he charges no fee!" The company sang. "He's generous, so generous."

Nerves nearly froze him. They were nearing the end. He could almost make out the figures standing upon the palace balcony. Soon they would be meeting again. For the first time both in their "proper" stations without any deceit between them.

He forced himself to move, dig both hands into the remaining half-bag of gold to shower Agrabah's people with what little he could give them. He could only pray that after this, he could help ensure that they prospered again.

"He's got ten thousand servants and flunkies!" The company continued. "Proud to work for him. Bow to his whim, love serving him! They're just lousy with loyalty to Ali! Prince Ali! Prince A–"

Here we go. All or nothing, Khaleel thought, even as Genie's promise the day before lightly echoed in his mind.

"He takes too long, I'll help them hold it out a little longer."

Khaleel didn't let any of his worry show on his face as the turned to the balcony again. "They're waiting for you," he shouted up to the Sultan.

Jasmine couldn't help her small smile of surprise. It was rare that they were acknowledged during the entry parade. They were also apparently confident in their abilities since they were holding a single note and even some of the acrobats were near frozen in readiness to launch a partner or two into the air. She looked to Baba as he turned to her.

He silently asked for her permission. So, he already liked this prince. Oh, he was hopeful that this was the prince she had hinted at earlier, wasn't he?

"We don't go until you go!" the leader called up.

Well, she certainly couldn't deny that she was also hoping. She smiled with a subtle nod.

Baba lifted his fingers even as his palm remained resting on the railing.

"You can do it!" the man down below said. Though whether it was solely for Baba or including the entire parade of people as they continued to hold both note and position, it was difficult to tell.

Jasmine looked outward again, just as Baba dropped his fingers. She could almost imagine a wind of relief sweeping over the entire parade as they cut off.

Khaleel almost whooped. "There it is!" They'd done it. There was still one last rousing chorus. But the adrenaline that always pulsed through him after a great performance was already in his system.

"Prince Ali! Amorous he, Ali Ababwa!" They all sang in perfect timing to the Sultan's now tapping fingers.

Jasmine raised her eyebrows as the second leader shot up on a vaulting pole spinning round by his hand and crossed ankles before facing the balcony.

"Heard your princess was a sight lovely to see," he said with a deep bow before twirling back down.

Impressive. Not the most elaborate compliment she'd received, but sweet in its simplicity.

Dalia nudged her, sharing a secret smile.

Oh, both of them were hopeful now. If this prince didn't prove to be Aladdin, this could officially be dubbed one of the worst days with all these highs and lows.

"And that good people is why," Khaleel sang and danced with Genie with an exuberance and energy born from victory, "he got all cute and dropped by."

"With sixty elephants, llamas galore," the whole company sang, "with bears and lions, a brass band and more."

Khaleel whooped, jumping, high-fiving Genie. They'd done it. They had succeeded in performing the dream parade Khaleel had always wanted to give Aladdin, the master who had freed him, the first master he could truly call friend. He grasped Genie's hand. Words failing him for the gratitude briefly overwhelming him.

Genie grinned, clasping his shoulders. His eyes saying that he understood and that he was happy to do what he could. He then slipped away so that he could hide away from the man who wished to enslave him.

Khaleel refused to let the possibly encroaching danger dampen his spirits as the last lines were sung out.

"With his forty fakirs, his cooks, his bakers. His birds that warble on key. Make way for Prince Ali!"

The rockets of glitter and confetti exploded and created a beautiful, satisfying cloud over the whole parade as everyone caught their breath. Quietly glowing in the pride and joy in a performance done well.

Khaleel turned to Aladdin. The prince waved to him, smiling broadly. They had done it. But now, the hard part for them. The formal presentation.

Author's Note: Woohoo! That was some parade. The duet version for Khaleel and Genie was inspired by Prince Ali (Mashup Duet) - Robin Williams & Will Smith by Nick Perreo on YouTube. Go watch/listen to this video to get an idea of how this scene should sound.

Jasmine's scene with her father was taken from another deleted scene, as well as what followed afterward with Jafar. Of course, there are some differences. And "shaytan" is an Arabic word for "devil."

Now, this song, I just had to write out. Genie and Khaleel wouldn't have forgiven me if I hadn't. I did go for more of the live action for the parade, simply because I felt it was more vibrant.

And coming up next is the formal/official meeting. Any theories on how that will go? Might things go better than in the film? Or will things still go wrong?

I would love to hear your thoughts, so share them down below. :-)