Author's Note: I would like to thoroughly apologize for the amazingly long wait I made you suffer. I am very sorry… please believe me, I don't usually put chapters off for this long. But, Peter Pan seems to have absorbed all my attention at the moment. Don't worry, I won't leave Iago waiting for too long next time… I hope. Anyway, in the meantime… enjoy this long-awaited chapter (though I doubt how good it is). As always, I would be honored to receive a review. And… on with the show…
Chapter 3: And if the Taste be Bitter
That's the problem with fate… just when you think you have it all figured out, it steps in and slaps you in the face.
Iago hated talk of fate. It always angered him that everyone else seemed to have one, and he didn't. Now, he hated it even more.
What had been Aladdin's fate, he wondered. To die there, bloody and beaten on the floor, while his dogs of Agrabah looked on? It didn't seem like much of a fate.
Did places have fates, towns and cities, and half sunken kingdoms? If they did, he wondered what Agrabah's had become. To have the blood of thousands of innocents spilled on its rocky streets?
And, if this was meant to be his fate, curse the gods… or god, or whatever there was out there that always seemed to laugh at what was supposed to be right in the world. Iago would rather have had no fate at all than to sit here and rot in this stupid cell.
Yes, Iago hated fate, and what he hated most about it, was the way it always seemed to find you when you tried to run away from it.
On the morning the guards came to gather Iago out of his cell, the last thing he was expecting was an outpouring of fate. He hated the guards; he hated their stupid faces, and their stupid black tunics, and the stupid way they way they pretended not to see them when he knew they really did. Iago resigned himself to the fact that was going to use the word stupid a lot today.
Maybe Iago would have told them that too, except he knew they wouldn't respond, much less care. So, for once, Iago went where he was taken without protest. He'd become well practiced at it during his time with Jafar.
He wondered if Mozenrath had come up with a new way to hurt them, and then allowed himself silent laughter at the fact that Mozenrath would get no joy from this. They were already broken, any resistance within them had died on the day Aladdin had. The laughter tasted bitter, but on the edges of it, sweet… in the places that knew Mozenrath had wanted them to fight.
Later, when Iago looked back on it, he would wonder why Mozenrath had brought them there on that morning. Maybe he'd wanted to anger them, or maybe, he'd just thought he owed Aladdin at least that much. Iago knew he owed Aladdin much more than that, and he suspected Mozenrath knew it too.
But, it was more than what Iago had expected, and he half thanked Mozenrath for the courtesy he'd allowed Aladdin.
If Mozenrath did nothing else right in his entire life, he made Aladdin's death perfect. He followed every Agrabanian ritual, from the color of the shroud to the observance of the body.
Aladdin's body was wrapped in a white shroud, as was the custom when the youths of Agrabah died… to remind the mourners of the innocence of youth and the atrocities they were yet to commit.
Kid… Iago had always called Aladdin "Kid." It took until now for him to remember why. Aladdin had been a child, in more than age… in his naïve innocence. Iago supposed he had been that innocent once; he just couldn't quite place the time.
Two guards Iago didn't recognize carried Aladdin's body up the stone steps that led to the Citadel temple. Perhaps it had once been used as a place of the ancient sacrificial rites to some strange god. But, now it served as a make-shift mosque.
Jasmine followed behind them, her face hidden behind a dark veil. Black draped her delicate features, and she shuffled along as if she was chained at wrist and ankle, but upon closer inspection, Iago realized she was not. It was funny, he thought, how everyone had been fearful of them when they first came here. There was nothing to fear now.
The taste of it was bitter, the taste of being small and insignificant, and a worry to no one. Aladdin was the only reason Iago had ever been anything more than that.
When Aladdin's body was laid on a stone altar, so that they might look upon it, a guard pulled the shroud down from around Aladdin's face.
His head had been hastily reattached; the stitches were clumsy and visible, giving the head a lop-sided, unnatural look. Aladdin's eyes had been closed in order to give the impression that he had died in some calm, pleasant death… perhaps in his sleep. Of course, the stitches made it so that the lie could never fool anyone.
Strange, that Aladdin looked nothing like he had in life. Iago had never seen Aladdin looking quite so "peaceful." His black hair had been combed back, out of his eyes, a way Aladdin had never worn it… even when masquerading as Prince Ali. He was dressed in black… Iago thought that was probably because they could hardly bury him in his street rat clothing… although he'd rarely worn anything else. Aladdin had never worn black. Black was Mozenrath, and evil… and death. But, worst of all, the pallor of Aladdin's skin had become a grayish-blue, especially around his lips. It made Iago think that Aladdin had died choking… gasping for air.
But, he knew that was not true. Aladdin had died when his head had rolled off his shoulders and onto the floor. Not even a hero could survive that.
The taste was bitter… losing, even when the hero was on your side.
Jasmine stared on blankly at Aladdin's lifeless form, and for a moment Iago thought she might cry, or perhaps lose her mind and turn on Mozenrath's guards… his dogs. But, she didn't. He wished she would have… it was what Jasmine would have done.
That's when Iago knew, that Jasmine was dead, just as much as Aladdin was.
"Kneel and make your amends," a guard snarled, and Iago watched the Princess of Agrabah sink to her knees in front of the dead man who was to be Sultan.
Iago stood next to Jasmine on the cold stone steps, and stared up at Aladdin. He stood and stared until his legs grew tired and numb. He would have liked to sit, but he supposed that would have been disrespectful. So, he stood and stared and should have felt a million feelings, but felt nothing at all.
This is stupid… so stupid.
Looking on at a dead man was the most pointless thing Iago had ever done. He could stare day and night while days came and went and came again, and nothing would change what had happened. Nothing could change fate.
This is all fate…. Stupid, stupid fate. Fate who didn't have time for me… fate who always found time for Aladdin… fate who did this to him… to us.
It seemed days had passed as he stood there, gawking. After a while, it became apparent that Aladdin's body was quickly deteriorating. Blood had long pooled and blotched on his skin, and his body had begun to rot, leaving places where you could see down into the bone. Mozenrath had clearly done his best to preserve the body, but it was not enough. Even someone as powerful as Mozenrath not change the inevitability of death and the nature of what follows.
The windows had been barred shut in ancient times when the old Lords of the Black Sands had been obsessed with the safety of these desolate lands, and the soon the stench of rot and the sweat of those gathered there became so strong that they were hard to ignore. As the hours moved slowly by, the smell of death became choking in the room.
Would it have been such a sin to just return his body to Agrabah?
Iago was dimly aware of the figure of Abu on the other side of Jasmine, but it appeared that she noticed neither of them. She simply stared, much as Iago had, but she did not look at the body of her lover, the man who was to be her husband. Iago couldn't blame her. He hadn't wanted to look either, but somehow, he could not tear his eyes away.
Iago could imagine how her father would want to reach out and hold her now, but sadly, he knew that no one could break through to touch any of them now. The Sultan, or the ex-Sultan that he had become, was not here. He wondered why.
Just when the sky had become pink behind the barred windows, and Iago was sure that he was going to suffocate, the sound of footsteps echoed into the temple. Iago knew the sound of the footfalls well and waited for the inevitable shiver that followed them.
It never came.
But, Mozenrath came, dressed as he had been in battle, all black from head to toe, he and Jasmine a couple in darkness. In one hand, he held his skeletal helm, so that his face and hair were visible, in the other, he held a bottle of arbor wine, Iago guessed a good vintage. And, he wondered if Mozenrath had come to celebrate his victory.
The victory of an enemy was bitter, but his gloating in it made it that much worse going down.
But, Mozenrath simply kneeled next to him and bowed his head. The gesture made Iago angry… a good feeling… a feeling he would have had if Aladdin were alive. Aladdin would never have had this scum kneeling at his funeral… maybe kneeling to bend the knee, but never at his funeral.
We wouldn't be here now if Aladdin had knelt before Mozenrath.
It was an unfair thought, Iago knew, one Aladdin didn't deserve. He couldn't have expected Aladdin to give up Agrabah without a fight… and when it came down to it, he'd refused to give it up over his dead body.
That wish had been granted, and the taste was bitter.
Mozenrath placed a small square of black silk over his mouth, and Iago hated him for it, for not being able to bear the stench of the man he had killed.
They stared on like that for quite some time, the dogs of Agrabah and Agrabah's greatest enemy… and its Sultan now.
Mozenrath's eyes were closed for most of the time, and Iago wondered if he was remembering how he had killed Aladdin unjustly, when he was bleeding and pinned to the floor. He wondered if the taste of it was as bitter to Mozenrath as it was to him.
Iago wondered if, beneath his eyelids, he was crying. Iago would have done anything to be able to cry.
Then, Mozenrath stood abruptly and held out the bottle of arbor wine in front of him. He pulled the cork from the green glass bottle and took a long drink, and then extended his hand to Jasmine. She did not take it.
"Stand," he commanded, and she did.
"This," he said, holding the wine up for everyone to see, "I dedicate to the man I have killed." The room was silent for a moment.
"A toast," Mozenrath declared powerfully, "to my most worthy opponent, to the only man who ever dared to come to meet me in battle, who opened the doors to my army… to the only man I have ever found no joy in killing. I damn him… and I honor him. To Aladdin." He thrust the wine out over Aladdin's body, and then brought it back, again drinking deeply from the bottle.
Iago hated Mozenrath right then… hated him for killing Aladdin, for breaking them, and making them understand him. It wasn't fair. Why should he understand the man who had killed his hero?
Mozenrath handed the bottle the Jasmine and smiled. She continued where he had left off. "To the only man I ever loved, to my hero, and my prince… to the man who died for Agrabah, stupid or no, it was brave. To the man who was murdered unjustly at the hands of his greatest enemy." She sneered at Mozenrath. "To Aladdin… when he died, so did I." She finished quietly and also drank deeply of the wine.
For a moment, the Princess and the new Sultan who never was to be stared at each other over the body of the Sultan who never was. Iago knew they hated and understood each other at the same time. It wasn't fair.
"To my only friend," Iago whispered quietly to no one but himself. "To the "kid," because that's what he was… only seventeen." He looked at Aladdin's body again, and for a moment saw the man or child he had once been, not the cold body was now was. "To Aladdin… a kid who saw good in me. It was stupid… but nice, and good, and very Aladdin. To a stupid kid."
Then, abruptly, angrily, Mozenrath shattered the bottle against the altar. Red wine ran down the stones and pooled underneath them. The smell was sweet and sticky, and Mozenrath was cursing in languages Iago didn't even know existed. Iago couldn't tell if Mozenrath was more angry that Aladdin had dared to defy him, or he that he could find no joy in killing him.
When Mozenrath had run out of curses, he turned to the guards and began instructing them on how to dispose of the body. "Take the remains to Agrabah," he ordered, "have them placed in the mausoleum there… with the rest of the princes."
Jasmine glared at Mozenrath and opened her mouth, and Iago knew what she was going to say.
So did Mozenrath. "He will not be placed with the sultans." Mozenrath was quiet for a moment. "He was no sultan."
Iago could feel the anger in the room. For all the injustices and humiliations Mozenrath had done to Aladdin, this would be the final atrocity.
"Mozenrath, I swear," Jasmine began, her voice quiet.
"No," Mozenrath finished for her, "Aladdin was a boy, and he shall be buried as one."
Iago knew both were true… he was a sultan… and a boy still.
Jasmine looked from the streams of wine running around Aladdin's body back to Mozenrath. And, Iago thought he could hear her sob, but he couldn't be sure over the sound of his beating heart in his ears. The horrifying realization had come to him, that this is how things would be from now on. He would not kill them, or torture them, or pay them any mind at all after today. He would simply leave them to themselves, leave them broken and alone and helpless. That was always the best way to keep your enemies, in a state in which they could never, and would never, fight you.
"You will go now," Mozenrath commanded. "When the war is ended, perhaps I will grant you free roam of the castle. Until then, use your time to grieve."
This is stupid. I've had enough of grieving. The taste of it had become bitter long ago.
Iago knew he couldn't take it. He couldn't take another useless minute in that stupid cell. He couldn't take the ignorance of the guards. He couldn't take the silence. Not for another day… not for another minute. But, of course, he didn't say that.
That night, alone in the silence, alone in his cell, alone with only the guards for company, Iago realized that he could take it. And, the thought was defeating. The thought that this would never kill him.
If I could go back what would I do?
"I don't know. If you could go back, what would you do? It's your choice. Choice… it's a nice thing, isn't it? What would you do?"
What would he do? I would fly like Aladdin told me to. I would fly as far and as fast as I could. I would take the right message.
"What good would that do you?"
Anything's got to be better than living here, like this.
"You know that isn't true. Wherever you were, you'd know the truth just as much as you do now. And, it would all be the same, except you'd be somewhere else, not here."
It would be better.
"Not by far. What good would it do Agrabah?"
None. What did you expect me to do? I can't save Agrabah. It's not my job. That was Aladdin's, and he died. What good do you think I would have done?
"None… not there… not then."
It was then Iago realized that he was not simply thinking to himself as he usually he did. Someone was answering, and not a someone Iago had created in his mind… a real someone. He shivered.
Fate… is everywhere. Why then? Why? Where here? Why now? Why then? Why ever? Why are you here?
Iago hadn't actually said any of the thoughts that screamed in his mind, but somehow he knew… he knew… whoever was there could hear.
"Because Iago, fate… is everywhere."
Iago burned with rage at the voice that came from a person he could not see. "What do you know about fate?"
"Enough."
For a brief moment, Iago wondered if he was losing his mind, but he turned on the voice anyway. If he was losing his mind, there was no better place to lose it than here in this cell. At least he'd have someone to talk to. "Well, I have a few words to say about fate. And, here's one… it's stupid. It lost Agrabah, and killed Aladdin, and always forgot me, and when it finally remembered I was here, decided to have a good laugh at my lousy luck. Forget fate."
"Fate didn't do any of that. Agrabah did, Mozenrath did, Aladdin did… and you did. None of it was ever meant to happen."
"Me? What am I supposed to do about it? If you were so all-knowing, you would have seen me at the battle in Agrabah. You would know that I couldn't even carry a message; I couldn't even handle that one thing Aladdin asked me to do. And, you think I could change fate. That's insane… and stupid." Iago spat the word 'stupid,' all the more angry because he knew it was true.
"Stupid perhaps, but none the less true."
As if Iago hadn't known that.