Chapter 9
"Oh, thank goodness!" Riar sighed. "For a moment there, I thought that Jafar had won."
"Well, my story is not finished, yet." Scheherazade said with a mischievous smile. She glanced out the window the moon was still high in the sky… she wondered how long she could make this tale last, for honestly, she wasn't sure where it was headed. "Back at the palace, Jasmine sat in front of her mirror, thinking of Ali, and humming dreamily…"
She couldn't stop thinking about that night's events. Ali was so different from those other princes who spoke non stop about their riches, how big their palaces were or how many servants they had. Prince Ali actually let her talk; he hadn't bragged once or made her feel like a trophy on a pedestal. In fact he hardly said anything about himself; it almost made her wonder.
"Jasmine!" Sultan called to his daughter. The princess turned in her seat in front of the vanity to see her father. She could not wait to tell him of what happened.
"Oh Father—I just had the most wonderful time, I'm so happy!"
"You should be Jasmine," said the Sultan in a monotonous voice. "I have chosen a husband for you."
"What?" She asked confused, something wasn't right. As a cacophony of thoughts raced through her head, the adjacent door burst opened to reveal the evil adviser.
"You shall wed Jafar." The king told her in a voice that was not his own. Jasmine gasped, this couldn't be happening; she wanted Ali.
"You're speechless, I see," Jafar chuckled with inequity. "A fine quality in a wife."
Jasmine regained her ability to speak and immediately spat back at him, "I will never marry you!" She turned to her father pleading, "Father, I choose Ali."
"Ha, Prince Ali left!" Glee was more than apparent in the vizier's voice.
"Better check you crystal ball again, Jafar." Jasmine and the adviser did an about face to see Ali.
"How the he—oh, uh, awk!" Iago screeched from Jafar's shoulder.
"Come on, tell them the truth." Prince Ali demanded. "You tried to have me killed!"
Jafar regained himself and turned to the Sultan. "Ridicules nonsense, your highness. He is obviously lying." He brought his cobra head staff's glowing red eyes closer to the Sultan's face.
"Obviously…lying." He repeated in his hypnotized state.
"Father, what's wrong with you?!" Jasmine asked, near to hysterics.
"I know!" Ali grabbed the staff from Jafar's hand, brought it into a swinging arc letting it come in contact with the floor. The cobra head shattered like glass and pieces slid out in all directions.
"Oh, oh my." Sultan looked around confused. Ali took this opportunity to explain.
"Your highness, Jafar has been controlling you, with this." He presented the broken staff to the Sultan.
"What? But Jafar! You, you traitor!" The three advanced on Jafar as he tried to come up with a feasible reason for his actions.
"Your majesty, this can be explained." Yet the Sultan would hear nothing of it.
"Guards, guards! Take him away!"
"Well, that's it--we're dead, forget about it. Just dig a grave for both of us. We're dead." Iago squawked from his perch. Jafar ignored Iago and looked for some possible escape before the guards came. Then he spotted it, the lamp in Ali's pocket—but wait, Aladdin had the lamp. That must mean…
Jafar lunged for the lamp but was restrained by two royal guards who had just appeared.
"This is not done yet, boy!" The advisor cried, reaching into his pocket for a vile, which he smashed against the floor. From it an angry red cloud rose shrouding everyone in a mist and once it cleared Jafar was nowhere in sight.
"Find him; search everywhere!" Yelled the Sultan.
"Are you alright?" Aladdin asked turning to Jasmine.
"Now, I am." She replied smiling. Aladdin leaned in to kiss her, only to have the Sultan barge in between him.
"Jafar, my most trusted counselor, plotting against me all this time. Just horrible. How will I ever--" He stopped in mid sentence to look at the pair. "Can it be true? My daughter has finally chosen a suitor?" Jasmine nodded affirmatively. "Ha ha! Praise Allah! You brilliant boy, I could kiss you! I won't--I'll leave that to my-- You two will be wed at once! Yes, yes. And you'll be happy and prosperous, and then my boy, you will be sultan!" The King was ecstatic.
"Sultan?" Aladdin asked with a quizzical look, he had never thought this far. "Yes, a fine upstanding youth like yourself, a person of your unimpeachable moral character is exactly what this kingdom needs!"
"We gotta get outta here! We gotta get-- I gotta start packing, your highness. Only essentials." Iago began to franticly throw things into his bird cage. Jafar offered nothing but a malicious smile.
"Travel light! Bring the guns, the weapons, the knives…" He stopped for a second and took out a picture of him and Jafar. "How about this? I don't know--I think I'm making weird face in it." The advisor began to laugh wildly.
"Oh, boy--he's gone nuts. He's cracked." The sarcastic parrot flew down and knocked on his head. "Jafar? Jafar? Get a grip, Jafar!" Jafar's hand flashed out and had Iago's neck in his clutches before he knew what happened. "Good grip!" Wheezed the bird.
"Prince Ali is nothing more than that ragged urchin Aladdin. He has the lamp, Iago." He Growled
"Why that miserable--" Started Iago.
"But you are going to relieve him of it!" Jafar regained his evil grin.
"Me?" Gulped Iago. But, seeing a bright opportunity, he added, "What'll you give me?"
"What do you mean?" Jafar glowered.
"I want you to make me a man again." Iago squawked quickly, as he hopped onto the windowsill, out of Jafar's reach, in case he decided to pummel him.
"Fine, Iago." Jafar said angrily. "Bring me the lamp, and I shall release you from your curse."
"Done."
"Well? What now?" Riar asked Scheherazade. "What's Aladdin going to do? Being Sultan is no easy task, quite frankly, and I don't think he's quite up to the challenge--"
"Now, my King. What makes you so sure our hero isn't up to the challenge? He's already won the heart of the princess…"
"Winning the princess is the easy part." He whispered. "It's keeping her faithful, and by your side for all time that most find difficult."
Almost instantly, she wished she hadn't mentioned love at all, for the look on her husband's face was grieving and hurt. Scheherazade recalled just as well as the rest of the kingdom how the Sultan had reached this point of no return with his wives. His Queen and chosen one had betrayed him, and had fallen in love with another man behind her husband's back. When Riar learned of this treachery, he plunged into a dark place that no one could pull him back from. He killed his traitor of a wife, and from that day forth, vowed never to trust a woman again.
Scheherazade looked down at the lacy bedspread. "I'm sorry, sire."
"It doesn't matter." Riar growled.
"Sire?"
"What is it?"
"It may not matter to you now, but I would never hurt you as your first Queen did." She said sincerely. At first, her King did not answer, but starred out the window into the inky black sky. "And I mean it with all my heart."
"Thank you, Scheherazade." He said gently.
Scheherazade paused, wondering if he would want her to continue with the story. But when he looked at her expectantly, she smiled and continued, "Meanwhile, Aladdin approached his princely guest house looking much gloomier than one might think…"
The morning sun shown down and hit Aladdin's back as he ripped off his turban, and rubbed his hand through his hair. "They want me to be Sultan… me!" He whispered in disbelief. How could this have happened? Why didn't he think about this?
When he had cooked up this scheme, he was only thinking of Jasmine and how much he wanted to get to know her… and he had! And she was everything he wanted. But was he ready for marriage into a royal family? Why hadn't he considered that a princess would be expecting more from him than any other girl he met on the streets?
The streets. He laughed bitterly to himself. It was crazy to think that only a few days ago he had been scrounging for food with Abu. And now look at them—Abu was an elephant!
"Hazzah!" Genie cried, escaping from his lamp and bursting into a one-man band. "Hail the conquering hero!" He flung off his band gear, and whipped out a camera to interview Aladdin. "So, you've just won the heart of the Princess—what are you going to do next?!"
Aladdin pushed past him, obviously not amused. He flung himself on the huge bed and frowned. The Genie hovered over to him and sat next to him innocently before pulling a script out from under a pillow. "Psst! Your line is: 'I'm going to free the Genie.' Anytime." He whispered between his teeth.
"I can't."
"Sure you can!" He said with full confidence. He used Aladdin's face as a mock ventriloquist dummy and teasingly said, "'Genie, I wish you free.'" Aladdin pulled his face out of the Genie's big blue hands.
"I'm serious." Aladdin said, leaning against the window frame in defeat. "I—I'm sorry."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Al." Genie said, trying to smile like Aladdin was joking.
"They want to make me Sultan!" Aladdin shouted. "No—they want to make Prince Ali Sultan! Without you, I'm just Aladdin."
"Al, you won!"
"Because of you! The only reason anyone thinks I'm anything is because of you! What happens if they find out I'm not really a prince?" He said angrily. In shock, he whispered to himself, "What if Jasmine finds out…?"
"Al--"
"I'll lose her, Genie!" Aladdin said desperately. "I can't keep this up on my own. I can't wish you free."
The Genie frowned and grew stern. "Hey, I understand." He said harshly. "After all, you've lied to everyone else, I was beginning to feel left out." He began to shrink back into his lamp. "Now, if you'll excuse me, master." He said with contempt and disgust hanging from every word.
Overhearing the conversation, Abu and the carpet listened by the window and both cringed at Genie's words.
"Genie, come on. I'm really sorry." Aladdin begged. A tongue emerged from the lamp and raspberries him. "Well fine!" Aladdin yelled at the lamp. "Then just-- stay in there!" He grabbed a pillow and jammed it on top of the lamp, fuming.
"Ooh." Abu clucked from the window. Aladdin whipped around to glare at the monkey/elephant and the magic carpet.
"What are you looking at?!" Aladdin bellowed, with more anger than he had intended. Abu and carpet looked at him for a moment then budged away from the windowsill. "Guys… come back—I'm sorry." But they were long gone.
Aladdin flopped back onto the comforters and sighed. "What am I doing?" He asked himself. He shook his head. They were right. All three of them: he had to start telling the truth.
"Ali! Oh, Ali! Will you come here?"
Jasmine. She was calling him from the distance, and he knew that Jasmine deserved the truth more than anyone. He loved her, and he knew that she could never love him in return until she knew who he really was.
"I'm coming—where are you?!"
"I'm, uh, in the menagerie!" Iago said, from outside Aladdin's quarters, perched on stilts and sporting a beak much like the flamingos that surrounded him. Thanks to Jafar's magic spell, Iago could imitate people impeccably and getting the lamp from Aladdin would be no problem.
"On my way!" Aladdin shouted, as Iago watched him descend the steps at a run, clutching his turban nervously.
Iago chuckled evilly when Aladdin sank into the distance. "You got a problem, pinky?!" He screeched at a flamingo that was admiring him with interest.
Iago flapped away from the stupid birds and into Aladdin's quarters. He landed on the back of a chair and observed the room. Everything was decked out in the most expensive of fabrics and the bed was more than king size. The paintings on the wall were excellent and Iago wondered greedily how much one might go for…
"Aha!" Iago noticed the pillow placed oddly in the middle of the bed and caught a glint of gold from underneath it. "Jafar's gonna be glad to see you!" Iago laughed to himself as he flew over to the bed and kicked the pillow off his prize. He stretched out his face to imitate Jafar with accuracy: "Good work Iago!" Normally: "Ah, go on!" "No really, on a score of 1 to 10, you are by far an eleven!" "Ah, Jafar! You're too kind—you're embarrassing me! I'm blushing!"
He scooped up the lamp and flew out the window, still congratulating himself in two different voices.