A/N: Okay, no matter how tired I was or how bad I felt, I felt worse leaving you guys with the last chapter. As another reader on AO3 pointed out, and I totally agreed with her, the last chapter felt unfinished, cut in half. In truth, that is exactly what had happened. I had originally intended for this to be part of the previous scene, but I realized it needed to be from Jasmine's perspective and not Aladdin's, and I did not want to write a split POV scene. I've been very consistent with dedicating each chapter to a single perspective, either Jasmine or Aladdin, and I didn't know how writing a split scene would read. So, the result was a too short scene I felt really guilty about sticking you with. I'm better than that, and I apologize. So, as penance, I forced myself to suck it up, wrangled my muse, and delivered on another chapter with time to spare for readers enjoying the three day holiday weekend here in the States.
Side note, I did not realize until reading this after typing it how Jasmine's spiral of fear and irrational trains of thought so accurately reflected what it is like when trapped in the grip of intrusive thoughts that, despite all reason and evidence to the contrary, you can't convince yourself are untrue nor shut off. So, enjoy this intended ride through my own personal hell that is Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
An unbroken arrow of moonlight shot towards the horizon, dividing the surface of the sea with a long white stripe. The dancing waves gave the illusion of shimmers as the light reflected off the rippling water. A hundred feet above, Carpet raced across the expansive gulf, ecstatic to be freely soaring among the clouds once more.
Jasmine hadn't been the only one cooped up inside the palace during the plague crisis, inadvertent or otherwise. With her responsibilities as Sultana, Sunil in preparations for his trip in the weeks leading up to the outbreak, and Aladdin having been solely occupied with attending to the needs of the city since, their friends Rajah, Abu, and Carpet had been left on their own. Rajah, normally her giant orange and striped shadow who never tended to be out of earshot from Jasmine, had taken to lounging around with Abu and Carpet in their quarters. Knowing the tiger's keen sense of her own feelings, she imagined her long-time companion could sense the melancholy in his new found compatriots. It gave her some solace knowing they had comfort in each other, even if it left her alone for most of her days while confined in the palace.
But right now, the wind was tangling her unbound hair, tucked against Aladdin with his arm securely wrapped around her waist, she could bask in the simple pleasure of spending time together as Aladdin and Jasmine, as husband and wife, instead of Sultana and Prince Consort. Even before the sickness had appeared in the city, it had been months since they had taken the time for an adventure like this. She craved the release — to be able to step away from the pressures of the palace for a short time and simply just be.
This was the first time since her coronation that she wished for respite from the burdens of being Sultana. She surprised herself at the word choice. Burdens. She had never used the word to describe them. Before all this chaos, they had been stressful responsibilities and duties. Now they were burdens, obstacles, and choices made between the lesser of two evils. All she had wanted her entire young life was to slide on her father's ring and be the next to sit on his throne. She had achieved her greatest ambition, and was anxiously awaiting the challenges posed by her position. Jasmine craved that challenge. She lived for problem solving. As a child, she had done puzzles, riddles, and logic games for fun. Debate and discourse was her preferred sport. Yet, in all the years she had spent educating herself about the nations of the world, the laws in her kingdom, how to conduct trade and commerce, and even how to wage war if necessary, she could never have imagined the challenge that this sickness could pose.
The entirety of the kingdom was exhausted. If some stroke of luck or blessing from on high didn't come soon, Jasmine feared there would be no Agrabah left to rule once the sickness had run its course.
Especially if the first Sultana ended her historic rule as another victim lost to the plague. Guilt thickened her mind, making it hard to think. Hard to do anything but wallow, to feel sorry for herself, causing her anxiety and fear to spiral. Constant, intrusive thoughts were bombarding her brain, an avalanche of worry over how stupid she had been, over the fate of the kingdom, over Aladdin.
She cursed the fact it had been his own words of encouragement that had sent her down this path. Now, if — no, the voice inside her head corrected— when she became sick, what would happen to him? If his own anger and grief over not being able to keep her safe didn't destroy him, her death surely would. He was unbelievably strong. He had to be to survive on his own from such a young age. But, back then, he had nothing to lose. There was nothing to gamble with but life and limb when he stole from the market. She had changed all that when she had brought him into her world, made him part of a family, given him status and authority, respect from those who had formerly spurned him. Made him vulnerable by giving him everything he had never had, and desperately and secretly wanted.
In return, he'd promised to live a life by her side, supporting her as his Sultana. A man willing to stand behind a woman was more rare than water in the desert. She needed him. She loved him more than she thought capable of loving anyone. He'd proven he was willing to risk his life to keep her safe and her kingdom safe. Then she had gone and one idiotic, impulsive move placed everything he cared about in jeopardy.
Without her, Aladdin thought he was nothing. Their future together, serving her and Agrabah, loving her, giving her the world— to him, that had become his divine purpose. If she was suddenly gone, what would become of her handsome thief? To Baba, he would always be seen as a son, the good man who had saved his kingdom by outsmarting a maniacal tyrant. Aladdin would always have a home in the palace. But, they had no heir, and Baba wouldn't live forever. Despite their marriage, Aladdin had no legal right to the throne, nor would he want it. And sure, ss long as Sunil and Dalia were in the world, he would always have a family, but they were far away now. Even if he had someone to love him, a place to call home, would he ever be able to let go of the guilt that would become scar tissue around his heart. Should Jasmine perish, so would everything that made Aladdin the man with whom she had fallen in love.
From the moment she had felt the blood hit her face, time had been running out for her, like the fuse burning down on Prince Anders' cannon. The resulting explosion would not come from a big gun but from the big heart of her husband. Her ever-loyal husband. The man she had promised to love, honor, and respect in marriage — the same vow he had sworn and dutifully upheld a thousand times over. The man she had trusted with her kingdom because he was the only one who had never lusted after power and planned to steal it away from her. Willingly, the title thrust upon him simply from falling in love with her, and all the responsibilities attached. He had begged her to trust him, to let him take up the mantle of protecting and caring for their city solely because he believed he was expendable, and she was not.
And, as payment in kind for that trust, she had betrayed it.
What have I done?
"You're awfully quiet tonight."
"Just another long day in a string of endlessly long days."
"Feels like it's never going to end when you're in the thick of it." Bumping his shoulder against hers, she placated him with a small smile, and he seemed pleased with the result. "We're almost through the worst of it. Jibril has the physicians keep tallies on the wall — the number of new patients that arrive daily, and the number of deaths by day's end. Right now, it seems like it's never going to stop climbing, but in a few days, the tally will be shorter than the day before, and even shorter the next."
The sobering truth gripped her like the hand of a ghoul on her throat. Her stomach lurched. In a few days time, her life would be culminated by chalk line on a piece of slate— the first Sultana of Agrabah reduced to a single tally mark.
"So many lives cut unexpectedly short," she said, voice tight. "So many unfulfilled dreams and ambitions."
To be honest, Jasmine didn't know if those words were for her people, or for herself. Death had never scared Jasmine. She had been exposed it upon losing her mother, and had the unfortunate lesson of learning at an early age that it was an inescapable part of life. The people you loved would all eventually die. As much as it would break her heart, she had accepted that fact, and with time, could eventually bear to lose Baba, Dalia, even Aladdin. But, in the haze of immortality that blinds the youth, she had never been forced to think about her own demise. Tension stiffened her entire body. The thought stifled the air in her lungs, her breath reduced to shortened bursts. She was not ready to die. The thought paralyzed her with unquantifiable fear. There was still so much she wanted to accomplish in this life, that she wanted out of it. Now, her remaining minutes were slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass. Her life was to be cut tragically short. Her husband would fall into despair. Her family dynasty would end. Her kingdom would fall into ruin and pass to someone else's hands. War would ensue. Blood would spill. Her people would die.
I am a fool. I never deserved to be Sultan. No-one who acts so selfishly should ever be allowed to rule.
"Do you ever wonder…" She began, unable to finish,her throat closing up before all the words could escape.
Trees were gliding beneath them now. When had the water disappeared? Were those mountains in the distance? She couldn't make out the distant shapes with the tears blurrying her eyes. Swiping them away, one eye with the back of her hand, the next with the pads of her fingertips, she banished the evidence of her remorse in two swift motions before Aladdin could see them fall. She knew better than to believe that Aladdin hadn't noticed she was crying. To his credit, he was allowing her to keep up the illusion of strength and resolve by not acknowledging it.
Tipping up her face with a knuckle under her chin, he encouraged her to continue her question. "Do I ever wonder what?"
"Do you ever wonder how you survived?' She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. "Why you lived when so many others perished?"
Features rearranging, his naturally expressive face warped from a smirk to sorrow so rapidly it made her wonder if despair wasn't his natural state. Every emotion he displayed, merely a series of rotating masks he wore to conceal the truth buried beneath.
The weightlessness of descent wreaked havoc on her stomach as Carpet dove towards the ground to land. The sensation felt foreign. She had traveled in all forms imaginable at the time— cart, camel, horse, ship, and most recently, flying carpet. Yet, never had she experienced any form of motion sickness in her various travels, not even sea sickness. As a sharp cramp bit into her belly, she realized the nausea had been preferable to the pain. Eventually it passed as Carpet lowered them down to settle on the crest of an outcropping of high bluffs along the rim of a verdant river valley.
"The short answer is yes." He said, acknowledging he hadn't forgotten her question already, nor was he ignoring it. "And, I think I know why… but do you want to hear the real reason, or my version?"
"Tell me both, and I'll pick the one I like best."
At her answer, his eyes twinkled as brightly as the smattering of stars above their heads. "After the first few days at the bimaristan, unable to do anything as people suffered and died, I asked Jibril the same question. He said it's random chance. Some people just survive. Their bodies are stronger than the others."
She furrowed her brows thoughtfully. "But, that's not what you believe, is it?"
"It's silly, Jas, I know…" he laughed, blushing as if he were embarrassed by the thought he seemed reluctant to share. "But, after the Cave of Wonders… I mean, I was the only person Jafar sent in who survived. The person whose worth lie far within. I guess I was the only person it ever deemed worthy… it called me a diamond in the rough."
Like with the story of his mother, Jasmine was realizing that Aladdin had never really shared the story of how he had come to possess the lamp. She knew the general story, obviously— Jafar had captured him and taken him to the desert, he'd been promised a reward in exchange for retrieving the lamp, and as was to be expected from the former vizier, Jafar had betrayed him and left him for dead. She also knew he'd managed to escape by tricking the genie out of a wish, because bringing it up much to Sunil's chagrin, was one of Aladdin's favorite pastimes. But, in all this time, he had never truly divulged the specifics, like for example, that he and the cave had carried on a conversation.
"It?" Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "As in, the cave? The cave talked to you?"
"Yeah. It was a giant tiger's head, like Rajah. When I approached, it spoke to me, warning me not to touch anything. Then I walked inside it's open mouth, which was the entrance, but then the floor dropped out from under me, and I fell at least a full story— "
"And we are absolutely positive you didn't hit you head in that fall?"
"I'm completely serious." He shrugged, half smiling, and fully aware of how ludicrous it sounded. "I mean, an evil sorcerer turned his parrot into an al ruhk and chased us on a magic carpet, which we also rode here… but talking tiger headed caves is where you draw the line for the impossible."
"No, I believe you." Rolling her eyes, she snorted. "I mean, it certainly explains why Rajah took to you so quickly despite his affinity for gnawing on all my other suitors. He must have known you had a deep connection with his kind."
"Laugh all you want, but honestly, I think somehow my destiny was tied to the Cave of Wonders, like I was meant to be the one who retrieved the lamp. That I was meant to be the one to use the lamp, to wield that power for good." Noticing as he adjusted his posture, he sat up a bit straighter. "The last few weeks have forced me to reevaluate my perspective, the belief I have in myself and the things I am capable of… and I think whatever my purpose in this world is, it was tied to that cave. It started with the lamp. It connected me to something much more powerful… and that's why I survived when my mother didn't. It was a link in the chain connecting me to that moment — if my mother was alive, I would never have become a thief, I would never have met you in the market, Abu would never have stolen your bracelet, and I would never have come to palace to return it, or been caught by Jafar and taken to the cave."
This was certainly a recent development. She had never heard him speak of himself with anything but thinly veiled contempt and insecurity. If nothing else, thank Allah that some good had come out of this crisis— it had finally convinced him of his worth. It was beautiful the way he had found such serenity in the tragic hand he had been dealt, and now saw it all as a means to an end.
"You think I'm insane," he scoffed when he saw the way she was grinning.
"Not in the slightest. In fact, it just confirms what I have known from the start. That anyone who truly looked would see there was so much more to you than the boy whole stole bread from the market."
Blinking a few times as if he was struggling to process what he had heard, slack jawed at her statement, he crossed his arms and said, "You literally accused me of being a petty thief not an hour after I saved you from losing your hand, and left me standing in the middle of the street before I could explain."
"Yeah," she leaned back on both arms, batting her eyelashes playfully. "But, my heart didn't want to believe it."
Snaking his arm around her waist again, he pulled her tightly against him, tilting his head until his cheek pressed against her forehead.
"I'm rubbing off on you in the worst ways," he shook his head, unable to contain a chuckle.
They stayed like that for a long moment. The air felt bizarrely warm for the middle of the night, Jasmine appreciating the coolness of his skin soothing the flush on her own. Odd, considering it was usually his warmth that she craved to drive away the chill she found herself so easily susceptible too. Allowing herself to finally be present in the moment, content in knowing he had managed to find some peace within himself, jasmine too found peace in her own racing mind. She had just allowed herself to close her eyes and relax when she felt Aladdin's entire body tense. She felt his weight shift as he pressed his check a little firmer into her forehead. Jolting up so fast it nearly knocked her over, he turned and pressed a palm to her cheek, then back to her forehead.
"Habibti, you're burning up."
In the bliss of the moment, she had almost allowed herself to forget. How stupid of her. How naive. Had she expected to be able to hide it? No. But, she also hadn't expected the symptoms to appear so fast. She had anticipated having time to tell him, preferably tomorrow, after they had been allowed one last night together. Now she had to tell him everything. Now she had to ruin this beautiful moment with the devastating truth that she had betrayed him, and could pay the ultimate price for that betrayal.
As she opened her mouth to speak, a torrent of words and tears threatening to spill forth, another cramp wrenched her stomach, so sharp and piercing she cried out and clutched her abdomen.
"Habibti?' He tried to keep her focus on him, but she couldn't manage through the pain. "I'm taking you back."
Without waiting for the command, Carpet took flight, launching into the air quickly. The abrupt change in elevation sent her reeling. Her ears felt wrong, sudden vertigo impairing her balance. Throwing off all sense of awareness, she grasped blindly for support, taking the edge of Carpet into one fist, the other searching out Aladdin's hand.
Was he calling her name? She could see his lips moving, but the sound was distorted, distant, like it was bouncing off the walls of a canyon, or he was yelling underwater. The haze in her head did nothing to dull the pure panic now etched into his face, or the pain rending her listless and depleted.
Eyes fluttering, she lost control of the fight she was waging with consciousness, letting her eyes roll backwards. Unable to support her own weight any longer, she crumpled, the momentum carrying her sideways until she was careening off the edge of Carpet. All she felt was the whoosh of the air as it enveloped her in like a blanket, completely oblivious as her unconscious form dove towards a jagged pile of scree at the base of the cliffs.
A/N: al ruhk- a mythical beast in Arabic legends. It's a gigantic bird of prey (a raptor to be precise) that was large enough to carry off elephants.