A/N: This chapter took forever b/c I could not make executive writing decisions on what needed to happen next. (Seriously, I recycled like six pages of rewrites and scratched out material.) I feel like this story is getting sooooooo long, and I'm scared you're all getting bored and anxious for me to get to the premise of the plot. I teased dark Aladdin and magic and djinns and I have really yet to deliver on that. In the end, I felt like there was so much angst in the last chapter, and Aladdin suffered such a blow, I needed him to rally. Guess you can call this the calm before the storm, because I'm not going to be so nice to him in the next chapter, and that is what is going to finally send him over the edge.
In other words, if you're reading this b/c you love it, and you want it to be long... congratulations! There is no way I can finish this story any time soon simply because I feel like there is still so much that has to happen. I started writing a scene with the first dark magic the other day, but it felt like it was a few scenes too soon. I think I need one more scene between this one and that one. So, I ask of you, my loyal readers, could I please get some feedback in your reviews on the pacing, and tell me if I'm moving too slow?
Love and thanks to all of 67 of your who have left reviews so far, and the thousands of you who have read, and re-read, and re-re-read waiting for me to update. Your encouragement is what keeps me writing, and your praise of my writing feeds my soul like gasoline to a fire. A thousand thank yous, oh patient, loyal ones.
Enjoy.
The rough tread of Rajah's tongue grazed the right side of Aladdin's face, rousing him from sleep. Upon opening his eyes, he regretted the decision immediately. Reflecting off the polished stone floor, the mid-morning sun brightened the room violently. Despite closing his eyes, he could still see colors dancing in his vision. Wedging his rotund head between Aladdin and Jasmine in the bed as if he were a common house cat, the tiger flopped his chin down onto the swell of Jasmine's hip with an indignant chuff. Reaching out blindly, unwilling to open his eyes again, Aladdin walked his fingers across the tiger's striped fur until he could feel the bridge of his nose. Trailing his fingertips gently up and down the slope, Rajah huffed out a contented sigh and relaxed the full weight of his head on Jasmine, snuggling down into what little space there was between Aladdin's chest and Jasmine's back as they spooned.
Taking a cue from the great lumbering cat, Aladdin tightened his arm around Jasmine's waist, drawing her closer with the arm not subduing her infamous protector. Burrowing deeper into the mound of pillows on which he was propped resulted in a monkey tail smacking Aladdin in the face. At the smack, his eyes popped open again, and he groaned as the light stung his eyes. The monkey stretched his tiny limbs in all directions with a squeaky yawn before rolling over in the nest of pillows he'd made himself above Aladdin's head. He couldn't even really be mad at them, smiling at his slumbering little family. They just wanted to be close to the people they loved. Aladdin squeezed Jasmine — could he really fault them for that?
Aladdin could stay here all day, relishing the feel of a mattress beneath him rather than slats of dry rotted wood under a moth eaten rug. Besides the luxury of a soft mattress and sheets, Jasmine was far warmer than the cold desert chill that swept through the crumbling walls of the loft in the middle of the night. Sleeping with her in his arms was like driving off the chill by cuddling a campfire. And, today, she was especially warm and inviting.
It was odd for Jasmine to sleep in, and even odder for the servants to let her, usually interrupting to deliver urgent messages or get her ready for whatever important engagements she had lined up for the day. She must have said something to Maryam about letting them sleep after their late night adventure last night. When she had taken the time to do it, he didn't know, since he had surprised her with the carpet ride…
Panic, like a bolt of lightning, splintered through his entire body. For the third time, Aladdin's eyes opened as he shot up in bed, sending Abu scrambling and Rajah jumping to attention.
The carpet ride. Jasmine falling. A look of profound pity on Jibril's face as he delivered the devastating news. All at once it came slamming back into his mind with an intensity far greater than the brightness of the sun, leaving him with the feeling of being completely scraped out, hollowed until nothing but a carcass remained.
Jasmine had broken her promise. She'd caught the plague. He was on the verge of losing her forever… just like he'd lost everyone else.
"Aladdin?"
It was hoarse, barely audible, but he'd heard her. At the sound of her strained voice, he took her up in his arms again, pressing his lips to her forehead, curling his entire body around her like she would float away if he lost his grip.
"Thank Allah," he whispered, lips grazing her still feverish forehead. "Habibti, you scared the hell out of me."
"How…When did we get back?"
"Just rest. You're very sick."
"Call… call Jibril." Her voice was sand grains against glass.
"He's already come, last night after you… when you…"
Shoving himself away, he rolled to sit at the edge of the bed. Dragging his hands down his face, he wiped away tears, and dried his hands on yesterday's sirwal he hadn't bothered to change, now rumpled from sleep. Moving towards the other side of the bed, he poured water from the pitcher Maryam had left at Jasmine's bedside. He kneeled down, and lifted the glass of water to her lips.
"Drink slowly," he warned when she tried to gulp the water, obviously dehydrated from sweating with fever.
Once she had her fill, she clumsily pushed the cup away. For several seconds she didn't speak or move, she just held his gaze for a moment, that look he recognized as her working through a particularly hard decisions, made harder by a sluggish, sick-addled mind.
"I don't… "She inhaled sharply, like even just speaking was exhausting, like no matter how deeply she inhaled she could never get enough breath to fill her lungs. "...don't expect you… to… to forgive me, but I'm so-sorry I… that I… I know, I promised."
Her words were a red hot blade slicing apart the chambers of his heart. He wanted to protest, tell her that in his eyes there was nothing she could do that was unforgivable. He wanted to take what may be his last opportunity to say all the things he could never truly express, lavish with her with praise and love, and make her understand that no matter what she had done, he could never believe she would betray him.
Even if the dark voice inside his head was doing everything he could to remind him that was exactly what she had done.
Either way, it didn't matter if he spent time time chastising her or conveying the depths of his heart. Even if it was his last chance to say any of it, he could tell from the daze in her eyes she was only semi-lucid. She wouldn't stay awake for long, let alone remember anything from the conversation. He couldn't decide whether that was a relief or not. He recalled the fever dreams that had haunted his mother, and the conversations she'd had with his father, speaking to nothing but memory and empty space. In the end, she had thought Aladdin was a shayteen who had come to possess her corpse. The last memory he had of his mother was of her screaming, "Demon leave me be!" and recitations of prayers for Allah to protect her.
"Just get better," he replied. Gently brushing away the dark strands sweat plastered to her flushed cheeks, tucking them behind an ear, he fell back on the old habit as a gesture meant to comfort them both. "Then I won't have anything to forgive."
In that moment, Aladdin honestly didn't know if he was talking to Jasmine, or begging for mercy from a higher power. He might be able to absolve Jasmine, knowing that she'd broken her promise based on good intentions, but if he lost her, forgiving Allah wouldn't be so easy. Not when his creator had the power to spare her, and didn't.
She tapped the cup again, and he brought it back up to her lips. But this time, she didn't heed his warning, and choked from drinking too quickly. Sputtering, she shot up, pushing him aside and throwing him off balance, spraying the water across the bed. But, it wasn't just water she expelled. Splatters of red speckled the sheets. It blotched across the fabric of her sleeping gown. It trailed, dark and fresh, from her trembling lips. Eyes fluttering, she fell back into the pillows, gasping.
Suddenly, there were two more sets of hands moving around them, one cleaning up the blood from Jasmine's face, the other trying to pull him from the floor where he had landed on his ass. Blinking at the offered hand, he realized he'd just been staring at Jasmine in shock. Nasreen was speaking, but the words were traveling through honey before they registered. Eventually his brain caught up with the speed at which the rest of the world was moving. Glancing back at Jasmine, Maryam was collecting the used rags from last night and the ones that she had used to clean the blood from Jasmine.
"Did you hear me, Your Highness?" Nasreen asked as he finally took her hand and came back up to his feet with her assistance. "The council is assembled and await your arrival."
The handmaiden turned to help Maryan remove the sheets, pulling them up into a bundle in her arms. Aladdin just stood paralyzed, watching uselessly as Jasmine fell back asleep, chest still heaving. When she realized that he hadn't moved yet, she stepped forward to break his line of sight.
"Your highness!" She snapped to break him from the trance he was under. "You must go! She is in safe hands, but same cannot be said of Agrabah. It needs a leader."
"Nasreen, I… I can't … I can't do this by myself."
With an exasperated huff, she shoved the blankets into Maryam's arms and spun back to the prince.
"You are not in this alone." Taking his hand in hers, she held it up between them like they were making a pact.
Everything about the moment reminded him of Jasmine. They were the same words he'd said to her a few weeks ago, in what felt like another life, when she was worried about ruling without the safety net of her father. Nasreen gripped his hand the same way Jasmine had taken hold of his when they'd made their deal on the balcony.
"Here's the plan — I will worry about the state and politics and trade and all the other official nonsense… and you, just take care of the people… because honestly, they couldn't be in better hands."
But, it wasn't supposed to be this way. She was going to run the kingdom, and he was going to take care of the people. Now, everything depended on him. Every contract he could barely read. Every speech he could barely give. Every decision he could barely make. Hamed was still a week's travel away. And, Jasmine was... dying.
"Alone or not, I can't do this."
"You can, and you will," Nasreen squeezed his hand. "Because, she need you. We need you."
"I'm just a thief who pretended to be a prince…"
"Then be a thief!" Nasreen exclaimed. "Steal my hope, because I believe our Sultana is stronger than any disease. Steal my faith, because I know that there is nothing you won't do for her. Steal my courage, because I believe you are the bravest, most honorable man in all of Agrabah." Shoving him in the direction of the bathing room, she added, "Now, go wash your face, put on some clean clothes, and don't come back out until I can recognize the famous Prince of Thieves that every child of Agrabah will grow up hearing legends about."
Stumbling into the bathing room, everything felt like slow motion at first. The simplest feat felt like an insurmountable task. But, the water also felt refreshing on his face. And, clean clothes felt more comfortable against his skin. As he took one last look in the gilded mirror, he tried to reach down into himself and pull out what everyone insisted was there.
A thought struck him, and the irony was enough to make him laugh. In facing the chasm between what he was and who he would need to be to win the heart of a princess, he'd convinced himself he would never be worthy. He still wasn't convinced — his ego had never recovered. But, all his life, he'd wanted people to look closer, convinced there was more to himself than just the street rat they saw at first glance. And, now finally they were, and he was telling them what they saw was wrong.
There was value in what he had to offer.
In his heart, he knew he was a good man.
After all, he was the diamond in the rough.
As he exited the bathing room, Nasreen and Maryam had dressed Jasmine in clean sleeping clothes and changed out the blood stained sheets. Now they stood at the foot of the bed, facing the bathing room door as he approached, each holding the side of a dark wooden box.
"We thought you would need this," Maryam offered.
Lifting the lid, Nasreen revealed the contents inside. On a silk cushion, a white turban with a glistening teal gem, sat as pristine as the day it had first been gifted to him and laid upon his head at his coronation. Aladdin rarely had occasion to use his crown, having done so only a handful of times. He had never been comfortable wearing it. He had accepted his title as prince, albeit reluctantly, but parading around, wearing a crown, it was like calling attention to how ridiculous it was that he'd ever become a prince at all.
"May I?" Nasreen asked.
When he nodded, Maryam took the box in fully into her hands so Nasreen could remove the Crown of Prince Consort from the box. Titling forward slightly, he closed his eyes, overcome by the memory of Jasmine's wide, proud smile as she had placed the crown on the head of her chosen prince.
"There he is," Nasreen smirked. "There is the Prince of Thieves."
"Now I see why Dalia chose you to replace her," Aladdin said biting back an embarrassed smile.
"My cousin and I share more than just a family resemblance," Nasreen shrugged.
"She would be proud of you."
Nasreen's gaze drifted to the sleeping form tucked into the bed. "As the Sultana would be of you, my prince." Straightening, Nasreen took a deep, stabilizing breath, and ignored the tears gathering in her eyes. "The council is waiting."
"We will not leave her side until you return." Maryam promised.
Nodding, he walked around the bed, kneeling once again at Jasmine's bedside.
"Here's the deal," he whispered into her ear. "I'll take care of Agrabah, and you… well, if I can't give up, neither can you, habibti. I love you far too much. I refuse to lose you too."
Aladdin pressed a long kiss to her temple, thanked the girls, and left to face the council.