A/N:You've all been very strong to deal with the emotional warfare I've inflicted on you, and know that you need a break. One more angsty chapter, and I promise that the next one I write will be fluffy and domestic and so cute it'll probably be disgusting. I'm sorry if it's starting to feel repetitive, and I'm afraid of making the characters too whiny. Aladdin is starting to feel like Harry Potter circa book 6, and I don't want that... but I'm trying to play up the impact of the trauma he's experienced in life. I have a lot of training in working with students who are have trauma (adverse childhood experiences or "ACEs"), and I've tried to relate the emotional ups and downs, the internal turmoil, the outburst of rage and violence, and all the other baggage that impacts them and their ability to learn. I recently watched the episode, "Noel" from the second season of the West Wing, and they do a good job of demonstrating how Josh deals with the his trauma, or rather how poorly he is dealing with it, on his own. I took a little inspiration from that episode for writing Aladdin.

Now, for the next installment of But, Why!?...

Awaiting the arrival of the Vizier, Jasmine sorted through the letters and documents that had accumulated on her desk over the morning. She couldn't deny her disappointment at being called away. She'd hoped that after her brief, but illuminating conversation with Aladdin at the madrasa, that in the security of their suite, she might make some more headway towards breaking down that emotional barrier he was hiding behind. After weeks of silence and distance, little pieces of information were slipping out. Here and there, Aladdin was breaking off pieces of his pain and letting her carry them.

Unfortunately, whatever he was willing to give was only the crest of the mountain. That much was evident in the rage she had seen that morning. Whatever his reason for repressing it, she was determined to get to the source. That anger was stemming from something much deeper than his perceived limitations as a prince. Why he was working so hard to protect her from his struggles was incomprehensible to her. When her mind was racing; when she questioned herself; when she just wanted an objective opinion on a matter, he was always the first person she came running too, even before consulting the Vizier. What Aladdin lacked in leadership experience or politics, he more than made up for in the simple answer of what choice would be best for her people. He, on the other hand, was running away from the one person who had spent her entire life trying to prove her worth, and she needed answers as to why.

"Please tell me the rumors I'm hearing are false?"

Snapping her head up at the voice of her Vizier, Jasmine greeted Dalia standing in the doorway. Many in the nobility had questioned her choice in vizier, but then again they spent a good deal of their time questioning most of her choices — the male nobles, at least. Much like Aladdin, perhaps Dalia didn't have the prescribed political acumen one would desire in an advisor to the crown, but she had one quality that Jasmine valued very much — Dalia was never afraid to tell her when she was wrong.

Sure, had she made the announcement she was looking for someone willing to question her and tell her no, those same jackass nobles would have been lining up at the palace gates. Unlike those seeking to obstruct her simply because they were upset by her position and power, Dalia was objective. She was the rational voice in Jasmine's head that helped to ground her when she was too flustered by her own emotions. Dalia had called Jasmine out on her own stubbornness more times than she could count, and was always the first to point out when Jasmine was getting in her own way. If it hadn't been for Dalia, she would never have given Prince Ali a chance, and missed out on the greatest adventure of her life.

Falling in love with Aladdin.

Pinching her nose with one hand, the opposite resting in her folded elbow, Dalia waited impatiently for Jasmine to confirm or deny her question.

"I'm not quite sure — " she began.

"You're not quite sure if your husband, the prince, threatened the headmaster of the school you just dedicated today!?"

"Oh…" She leaned back until her head was resting over the chair, eyes traveling to inspect the ceiling, which suddenly she found immensely fascinating. "I thought you were talking about something else…"

Crossing the room, she started laughing, throwing her hands up, stopping just short of Jasmine's desk.

"What else on earth could I possibly be talking about right now?"

Setting her elbows on the desk, she rubbed the tired out of her eyes that, after half a night's sleep and an emotionally exhausting morning, was beginning to catch up with her. "The rumors of plague hitting the city."

All of Dalia's apparent outrage dropped from her face, along with her trademark sarcasm. "What?"

"That's why Aladdin assaulted the headmaster — apparently he had some knowledge of the threat, but didn't think to alert the palace."

"And, that's why Aladdin hit him?"

"Hit him!?" With a screech across the floor, Jasmine shot up from her seat. "The rumor mill does run fast in these halls, doesn't it? If only the gossipers would exchange efficiency for the slightest bit of accuracy… still, I'm amazed you've already heard."

"One of the guards reported it to Hakim, and Hakim reported it to me on my way here."

"The guard said Aladdin hit him?"

"That's what was reported to him…" Dalia shrugged. "He was just passing the message along to his superior."

"Unbelievable." Jasmine shook her head. "No, Dalia. He got in his face, he yelled, he grabbed him by the robes and threatened to lock him up, but he certainly didn't hit him."

"What happened?"

Holding the gaze of her former handmaiden turned vizier, she tried to brush it off.

"Don't worry about it, Dalia. I dealt with it. Aladdin hasn't been feeling well lately."

Dalia continued, unabated by Jasmine's protests. Taking Jasmine's shoulders in her hands, Dalia squeezed them. "Tell me."

Unable to keep pushing her emotions to the side, to keep trying to be a Sultana first and a wife second, she relented. "He... he thought he was protecting me, I guess?"

"You guess?"

Sighing, seeking answers that even she herself didn't have, Jasmine broke away from her hold to fall onto the window seat rather ungracefully. "He blamed the headmaster for putting me at risk."

Bending her legs upward, she let her head fall into her knees, wrapping her arms around her head. The seat cushion depressed under Dalia's joined weight. From behind, she felt Dalia's hand graze gently down the length of her back, then slide back up, making soft little circles.

"So, at what point did you scold him by shouting 'Prince Consort, your Sultana is addressing you?'"

Jasmine raised her head to find Dalia smiling at her, and couldn't fight snorting out a small laugh. "Oh, they got that part right, did they?" Dalia just nodded the affirmative, trying not to laugh. "Well, you should have seen his face."

"I would have paid good money for that."

Leaning to Dalia's side, Jasmine let her wrap her into a side hug.

"He's been so distant lately. His moods are erratic…"

"I know. We're all very worried about him. Several people have mentioned to me that they've noticed a change in the prince."

"So, it's not just me? Well, don't tell him that… he's been evasive enough as it is, and if he thinks the entire palace knows… All he ever says is 'You've got enough to worry about', which just makes me worry about him even more."

"Aladdin is just a man, Jasmine. A brave and honorable man to be sure, but he is still a man like the rest of them. Unlike us, they deal with their problems one at a time. He doesn't understand that our minds are different, that we're used to dealing with more than one crisis at a time. Men want to fix things — find the swift, logical solution that causes as little damage as possible. It might seem cruel to you that he's holding back, but in his mind, he's doing that he thinks is a kindness to you."

"But, if the situation were reversed he'd be the first person there trying to get to the bottom of what was wrong."

"Of course, Jasmine. The boy worships the ground you walk on. He knows exactly what it takes to fix you when you're upset. To him, that's his job, and that's easy. It's how to fix himself he doesn't understand."

Swiping at her eyes, Jasmine wiped the tears on the silk of her pants, leaving small wet dot. "It's not fair. He always know exactly what everyone needs, but refuses to focus any of that love back on himself. He's in so much pain… I can feel it, and it's killing me."

"Which is exactly why he hides his pain. He loves you too much for you to hurt, even if it means he hurts alone."

"Well, then he's being the world's most loving idiot," Jasmine scoffed. "The day we faced Jafar, watching helplessly as he banished him to his death —" Fighting a sob, she grit her teeth, the memory still so fresh, burned into her mind forever. "I will never forget his painful scream echoing through the Great Hall. I still hear it in my nightmares. He was just... gone. He was going to die, and it was my fault because he came back for me, and there I was, helpless to do anything for him. I didn't think anything could ever hurt as much as knowing that. But, I was wrong, Dalia, because nothing is worse than having him right beside me, quietly re-suffering that level of unimaginable pain."

"If I recall, he escaped tragedy and came back to save the entire kingdom. He made it through that, he will make it through this."

"Not without a little help," Jasmine argued, waggling her fingers like she was casting a spell. "He doesn't think he's capable of amounting to anything without a bit of pretending and a handwave of magic." She pulled away from Dalia, picking at her nails nervously. "Honestly, if it wasn't for Sunil, I don't think he'd have lasted as long as he has without breaking."

"Actually... Jasmine," Dalia's face went nervously slack, eyes pleading for a shred of mercy. "That's the real reason I needed to talk to you."

Under her current duress, it took Jasmine's brain a moment to catch up and make the connection, and she steeled herself for what she already knew. "You're leaving."

"You know, it's fascinating," Dalia mused offhandedly, an attempt to lighten the mood, "how fast a ship can be built when it's been commissioned by the Sultana."

This was all becoming too overwhelming. Aladdin was spiraling, Baba wouldn't return for weeks, and now, her last anchor was literally about to leave port. Stones were stacking one by one onto her chest, pinning her down, stealing her breath. She could feel the decompression of the weight in her chest. She gripped the fabric of Dalia's skirt in her first.

"I'm not ready," she whispered.

"Serving as your Vizier was always meant to be temporary…"

"You're not just my Vizier, Dalia. You know that." Jasmine flashed her a face of disbelief. "Besides… who am I going to find to replace you? Who can I trust to be honest with me, and not have an ulterior motive?"

"Well, lucky for you," Dalia unfurled Jasmine's tight fist and took the hand in her own, "your father and I have been discussing that… how about your aunt?"

"Aunt Indira?" Jasmine scrunched up her face is question.

"Why not? She was maharani — she understands what it takes to rule a kingdom. Now that your Uncle Chandresh has ascended his brother's throne, there isn't exactly a lot for a widowed royal to do besides remarry." Taking on a more somber tone, she added. "None of her children have survived, Jasmine. She wants to pass on what she knows to you — she is very proud of your ascension."

"I haven't seen her since Ummi's funeral," Jasmine shifted, letting her legs drop back down to the floor. "She wrote me a very flattering letter after my coronation."

It made sense — Indira would be an invaluable resource for a young Sultana just coming into her own. It was also a safe decision for Jasmine. Indira would not have any designs on the throne nor would she have any motive to make the Sultana look like a fool because she was a woman. It was a heartbreaking trade to make for Dalia, but politically, it was a gift she should not overlook.

"So, she'll be traveling back with Baba then. I suppose that means I have you for a few more weeks."

"Actually..." Dalia's voice got very high and she smiled innocently.

"You're killing me," Jasmine shook her head, but couldn't help laugh. She had gone from handmaiden to vizier, and yet nothing about Dalia had changed.

"We've been putting this off for almost a year and a half," Dalia whined. "We barely escaped for a week as a honeymoon. Jasmine, it's my dream… our dream."

"I suppose I have kept you here rather selfishly, haven't I?" Rising from the window seat, Jasmine turned, standing in front of her oldest and dearest friend, taking Dalia's hands and holding them out before her. "Dalia, as reward of your devotion and service to the crown, as Sultana of Agrabah, I declare you officially relieved of duty to the Sultana." Dalia beamed, tears of joy ringing her eyes. Then, Jasmine finished, tone dropping with sarcasm, "Just know that your timing is terrible and I will never forget how you abandoned me in my time of need."

Dalia kicked at Jasmine's shin playfully.

"That is exactly the kind of affront to the crown that could sentence you to a lifetime of duty," Jasmine warned in feigned offense.

"Thank you, Jasmine."

"No… my thanks are to you, Dalia. A ship isn't nearly enough to express my gratitude and love for you." The women embraced in a long hug. Jasmine closed her eyes tightly, trying to press into the moment all of her unspoken appreciation and love — a single embrace meant to encompass all the words she could never find to express the true depth of her feeling. "Promise me that we'll have one last celebration together before you disappear around the edge of the world."

"Of course," Dalia agreed. "You know how Sunil adores a party."

"Then it's settled. You're not allowed to leave until I can give you two a proper send off."

"Far be it from me to subvert the will of my Sultana."

"You didn't have any trouble with that when I was a princess."

"Yes, but you weren't giving me ships and throwing me parties then, were you?" She flicked her hand through the air dismissively.

Sensing the end of the conversation was at hand, Jasmine said, "Aladdin and I are taking dinner in our suite, and unless there is an invasion, we are not to be disturbed, understood?"

"Perfectly, Your Majesty." Dalia raised her finger into the air as if she wanted to make a point. "But, technically, I don't work for you any more, so perhaps you should tell another member of the staff — "

"I'm leaving now," Jasmine deadpanned, and slipped out to inform the kitchen staff her plans for secluded romantic dinner.

A/N: maharani —the term used for an Indian queen or princess, that comes from the word Maharaja, which means "Great King"

Ummi - my mother