Disclaimer: All characters and places etc belong to those wonderful folks at Disney. I don't know who owns "One Day I'll Fly Away" but it's not me and I'm making no money from this.
There's also a quote from 'Moulin Rouge' hidden in there somewhere, just because I love that film and it fits perfectly (I think) :D
Author's Note: This little fic is made up from one little vignette I wrote ages ago and the "One Day I'll Fly Away" bit was inspired by a topic on the AML about how perfectly this song fits the moment in 'Aladdin' where Jasmine lets the birds go.
BTW, parts of the 'Overture' from Lawrence of Arabia (i.e. the main theme from the film) is what I imagine the background music to be like when Jasmine's on her balcony looking at the desert. I always imagine my fics to be like movies… :P
Thanks to the AML for being my muses on this one and for just being a fabulous group of people!
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How often had she watched the caravans leave the city, winding their way towards some destination unknown to her? How often had she wondered what it would be like, to be so close to the desert, to feel its breeze waft through her hair and know that she was a part of it?
Some nights, she would stand on her balcony and smell the winds that came from the desert. The smell of freedom. Lemons, figs and spices from far away. Campfires crackling and travellers telling their stories. The scent of the sand and camels and rocks untouched for years. She loved the desert.
Jasmine could only imagine what it was like. All her life she had been sheltered from the world, a glass doll in a marble prison. When she had been younger, she accepted this fact. She was a princess, a thing to be shut away and admired from afar until the day came when she would rule her city. This was her life. Nothing more, nothing less.
But as she grew older, she wondered why it should be this way. Why she was not free, why she spent her entire life in a palace and why she had to stay there. She wanted more from this life, something nobody else seemed to understand. They thought she was being rebellious, selfish and spoiled. She had everything most people could want and yet she fought against it, dreamt of a world where she could be free. Where she did not have to choose a husband because her kingdom would one day need a ruler.
If I do marry, I want it to be for love.
She stood at her balcony more, listening, smelling, waiting for some kind of miracle to deliver her from this choice she had to make.
One morning, while she stood there watching the city wake up and go about its business, she smelt something different in the air. The scent of the desert, of lemons, figs and spices, sand, camels and fires had something new to it. A new tang to it that made her heart soar and plummet at the same time. It was like her own menagerie but wild, uncultivated. A garden in the desert. Before she could grasp this new sensation a voice at the door made her turn.
"Princess Jasmine, your father sent me to tell you that your latest suitor, Prince Achmed, has arrived."
Jasmine's heart did a peculiar wriggle. A new scent, a new suitor.
Maybe this'll be the one, she thought as she combed her hair. Maybe he'll take me in his arms and I'll know he's the one. Maybe he'll smell like the desert and whisper to me that he loves me for who I am.
Maybe maybe maybe.
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She was wrong. Hope makes the heart soar and has the power to dash it against the sharpest rocks. The prince was spoilt and rotten to the core, a bad apple you might say. Her father scolded her.
"You can't go rejecting every suitor who come to call!"
She said that she didn't want to be a princess anymore, a secret thought that she almost immediately regretted saying, not because she didn't want her father to know but because he would not take it seriously. He would think that she was just angry, which she was but that wasn't the only thing. She wanted to smell the desert and be inside it, feeling the grains of sand between her toes.
Jasmine released the birds from their cages. A symbolic act she supposed. She watched them fly away and stretched a hand out after them, smiling sadly at the sheer joy of flight that these little birds expressed. She walked up the path that curved around the side of the palace. As she peered around the trunk of a small tree she could just make out Prince Achmed and his small entourage preparing to leave. In the middle of all the hustle and bustle she could just make out her father apologising profusely to the Prince who seemed intent on leaving preserving at least some of his dignity.
If not his trousers, thought Jasmine laughing silently. As she watched the Prince mount his majestic horse, she couldn't help but feel a small pang in her heart. She'd pinned so many of her hopes on this suitor. She'd imagined the perfect prince, someone who would love her for who she was, not because of the enormous dowry her father would give. Without knowing it, this prince has managed to break my heart, she thought wistfully. She leant against the tree and felt its bark press into the small of her back. She raised her chin defiantly. She would not settle for anything less than real love. Better to be alone. That she was sure of.
I'll make it alone, she sang quietly.
When love has gone.
She turned back to the Prince, who was now leaving through the palace's main gates. She would remember Prince Achmed, if only as the opposite to what she wanted her true love to be.
Still you made your mark,
Here in my heart.
One day I'll fly away. She gestured with her hand to the palace.
Leave all this to yesterday.
She looked at her father, dejectedly waving the prince off.
What more can your love do for me? She whispered. She had overheard the Sultan's vizier remark that she had a "ridiculous obsession with love". Maybe she did. Maybe that was the problem.
When will love be through with me?
The Sultan loved her, she knew. But it was stifling her, forcing her to stay in a palace away from all her dreams. She needed more. She needed someone who would love her and let her be free.
She walked back to her palace's main fountain and climbed up onto its edge and peered down at her reflection. "I'm a princess," she whispered. "Princesses can't afford to dream. But I have to. It's all I have."
Why live life from dream to dream?
And dread the day when dreaming ends.
Jasmine twirled around the fountain, singing softly to herself and after a while she realised (with a touch of surprise) that she had made a decision. She had to get out. Out into the city she was supposed to rule one day with a just and wise hand. Maybe a princess couldn't afford to dream, but surely a peasant, an ordinary woman could…
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Jasmine crept carefully out of her room and down the corridor. It would be hard to leave this palace, her home and even harder to leave her father. He would worry, she knew and part of her wanted to run to him and tell him that she loved him but she had to go.
If I do that, she thought slipping outside into the cold night air, I'll never leave. He'll persuade me to stay and I'll marry someone I don't love and never will no matter how hard I try because they won't be the desert. They'll be polished marble and I don't want marble. I want stone, sand, something that lasts. A love that lasts until I die.
She pulled the cloak more tightly around her face, thinking of her father. He'll try to find me, she thought. I'll have to be careful.
I'll follow the night, she sang.
Can't stand the light.
She looked back at the palace. A wave of panic engulfed her. What was she doing, leaving the only place she'd ever known? What if her dreams about living a wonderful life in the desert turned out to be just that - dreams? For a moment, Jasmine's resolve began to crumble. She looked at the palace's high walls and frowned. No, she thought. I can't live locked away.
When will I begin
My life again?
She crossed the main courtyard of the palace quickly, spotting a tree growing near the wall. She started to climb it when something tugged on her cloak. She looked back, expecting to see a guard. Instead, she saw the worried face of her pet tiger. She felt the sobs that she was only just managing to quell begin to rise again.
"Oh, I'm sorry Rajah. But I can't stay here and have my life lived for me." She hugged the tiger, her closest friend in the world. "I'll miss you."
She turned, the goodbye too hard. She tried to pull herself up the tree and felt something push her foot up, allowing her to scramble over the wall. She looked back and smiled bittersweetly.
"Goodbye."
She landed heavily on the other side and rolled. She looked at the dirt she had landed on and took a deep breath. There can be no going back no, she thought looking back at the palace. She sat where she was for a moment.
What more could your love do for me?
When will love be through with me?
Why live life from dream to dream?
And dread the day when dreaming ends.
She finished singing and got up, brushing the dirt absently from her cloak. After one last glance up at the palace she turned and ran towards the centre of Agrabah.
All her doubts and fears vanished as she wound her way through the city. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as she walked, sensing that these were her own people. Not the people she would rule over but her cousins, people she may not understand but knew how they felt in their hearts. The desert moved through them like a wave and she was intoxicated with it.
Everything was right and her heart felt glad. Even when the fire-eater gave her a look of barely concealed contempt, she still smiled. Back at the palace, she never knew what the servants really thought of her. They hide their looks underneath bows and manners. Here, the people were honest and she loved them for it.
Jasmine wanted to share her happiness with someone, in any small or big way possible. In the little boy struggling to reach an apple she saw herself. She had struggled almost her entire life to reach for something just beyond her, only to discover that it was closer then she had ever dreamt. So she helped him, smiling as she did so, pleased that she could help. After all, she thought, I am a princess. I'm supposed to help my people.
The merchant didn't see it that way. Of course, he didn't realise who she was or he would have let it be. But as it was, he didn't and named her a thief. She struggled against him, horror filling her while part of her, the darkest part, thought, well, you wanted to see what it was like on the other side.
Just when she realised that the merchant meant to take her hand, to cut something off her that would never be replaced, a wound that would never close, another hand appeared stopping the sword. She turned and saw him. A handsome young man, with hair as dark as the desert night sky and skin as tanned as the sand and rock surrounding the palace. The scent coming from his skin was of lemons, figs and spices from far away, of campfires crackling and travellers telling their stories. It was the scent of freedom and she knew that she would never be the same again.
Jasmine's heart ached and pounded violently. Perhaps he had opened up a wound in her or perhaps he had healed her. Either way, it did not matter.
Why live life from dream to dream?
For him, she decided. For him and my freedom.
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Please r & r!