Chapter 3
"How dare she!" Prince Achmed, dressed in crimson and gold, shouted to the Sultan. "And how dare you let her humiliate me like that!" He clutched the seat of his pants, where that damned tiger, Raja, had ripped them. Raja was going to ruin everything for the Sultan's daughter. He adjusted his turban.
"Now, Prince Achmed!" The short Sultan replied convincingly. "Please- stay! I'll get her to behave!"
"There is no way I'm going to stay here and disgrace myself again! I am very sorry, highness!" Achmed shouted, as he slammed the palace doors behind him. Fuming, the Sultan headed out to the garden, fiddling with his long, white beard.
There, he saw his daughter, the Princess Jasmine, sitting on the fountain, stroking her tiger, Raja. "Jasmine! Prince Achmed has just stormed out of the castle, taking away all hopes of becoming your suitor!"
"Oh, father. Raja was just playing with him." Princess Jasmine said, turning to her tiger, fondly. "You were just playing with that over-dressed, self-absorbed, Prince Achmed, weren't you?!"
"Dearest, you've got to stop rejecting every suitor who comes to call!" The Sultan cried out in anger. "You know the law! 'The princess must be married-'"
"'To a prince, by my 17th birthday.' The law is wrong." Jasmine interjected. She brushed back her long, black hair, and looked down into the water of the fountain.
"But you've only got three more days!" The Sultan said.
"I just hate being forced into this, father." Jasmine said softly, running her finger through the clear water of the fountain. "And if I do marry, I want it to be for love."
"It's not only that law… I'm not going to be around forever, Jasmine. I just want to know that you'll be provided for, and taken care of." The Sultan told her, taking both of her hands into his own, and looking into her mother's almond eyes.
"Please try to understand: I've never done a thing on my own. I've never even had any real friends- well, other than Raja. I haven't even been outside the palace walls!" Jasmine said sorrowfully.
Her father considered this. "But Jasmine, dearest, you are a princess." Was his response.
"Well, then maybe I don't want to be a princess anymore!" Jasmine confirmed angrily.
The Sultan was infuriated. He turned to leave, but snorted to Raja, "Allah forbid you should have any daughters!"
Stomping into the palace, he sat down on his huge, elephant-head-shaped throne, and frowned. She didn't want to be a princess? Was it so much to ask she be married to a prince and produce his heirs? Where did she get her stubbornness? His wife hadn't been so picky… In his rage, he didn't even notice his Grand Vizier enter the room.
"Sire," The vizier, Jafar, replied. The Sultan looked up at him.
"Thank Allah you're here, Jafar. I could use your wisdom." He said. "Jasmine refuses to marry any of the suitors I choose for her! What am I to do? I'm at my wits-end!"
"Awk! Wits-end!" Iago squawked. The Sultan smiled at the parrot, and pulled out a biscuit for it.
"You have such a way with dumb animals, sire." Jafar looked at him as he shoved the snack in the bird's beak, and gripped his cobra staff tightly. "Perhaps, I could help you with your problem, majesty. All I need is the mystic blue diamond ring…"
The Sultan stared. "The blue diamond ring? But Jafar, it's been in my family for centuries-- I'd never let it out of my sight!"
A flicker of anger jumped across Jafar's face. He tapped his staff on the marble floor. Immediately, the Sultan's sight went a blurry red… everything seemed hazy, and dream-like…
Words and sounds flitted about the Sultan's brain woozily… nothing was solid, making nothing to worry about… Then the staff's cobra head became clear… and reflected in it's bright eyes was Jafar's turbaned head…
It spoke to the Sultan, saying, "You will give it to me! If you do, everything will be fine."
"Everything will be… fine…" The Sultan repeated lazily, as he slipped the valuable blue ring off his little finger, and placed it in Jafar's misty outstretched hand.
"You are most gracious, my liege." Jafar replied foggily. The Sultan could hear the faint tap of the staff on the marble floor. "Now go off and sit on your throne, sire."
When the ring was safe in Jafar's pocket, he tapped his magical staff on the floor once more, removing the Sultan from the spell. The Sultan looked groggy and confused, as he always did when Jafar hypnotized him.
"You are most gracious, my liege." He said, smiling with triumph. "Now, go off and sit on your throne, sire." The Sultan nodded slowly, and moved to his grand chair. Iago squawked.
When they were out of earshot, the bird spat out the remains of the biscuit. "I can't take it anymore, Jafar! I never want to taste one of those disgusting crackers again! I swear, the second I'm a man again, he will taste my wrath…"
Coming from Iago, this didn't sound very threatening. "Calm yourself, my feathered friend." He said smugly. "Very soon we'll be the one's in charge."
"And I'll be the one stuffing crackers down his throat…" Iago thought happily.
Jafar let out an amused laugh, as he pulled on the tassel of a lamp, and a section of the wall slid open to reveal his secret lair.
Early the next morning when the moon was about to slip away into day, Jasmine crept into the garden dressed as a commoner. She clutched her drab, brown robes tightly against the cool dawn air. Passing the fountain, she recalled the argument with her father that afternoon.
Jasmine didn't want to upset her father, but castle life just wasn't for her-- she wanted to be free to make her own choices, and marry whomever she wished.
She hurried to the wall, and tried to decide the best way to climb over it. Behind her, she heard a small growl. She turned, and saw Raja looking after her sadly.
She knelt next to him, and stroked his head. "I'm sorry, Raja." She whispered. "I just can't stay here." With that, Raja helped boost her up, and she scaled the wall with ease. She muttered a goodbye, and hopped down.
Her heart was beating fast. She had never been alone outside the palace walls. What should she do?
Fearfully, she walked toward the main streets of Agrabah, hoping to find the compelling life that she had always prayed for.
Scheherazade paused, and coughed, her throat dry from talking. She reached towards the bedside table and grabbed a golden goblet and the pitcher next to it.
"Why have you stopped?" Riar demanded.
"Thirsty." She said, filling the glass and drinking from it deeply.
"Well, what happens next?" He asked.
"So you like my story, then?" Scheherazade asked him, smiling. She placed the cup back on the table, and looked at her husband.
"I'm not sure yet." He said, but she could tell that he did. "But as your king, I command you to continue."
Scheherazade glanced out the window, and saw that the moon was still rising in the sky… a long time until morning…