((Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.))

(Okay, this took a long time to write up, and I'm sorry the wait. I haven't forgotten any of my fanfictions. All of them are being worked on, especially Crushed Sand. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I know Mozenrath is a tad too violent and Jasmine seems a little too weak. But remember, she's tired, sick, and starving.)

Sunlight burned her eyelids when she awoke to the second day of being held captive. Blearily rubbing her eyes, Jasmine situated herself up into a sitting position before taking a look at her surroundings again.

Still here, she thought to herself dully. Who would've guessed it?

She noticed that the temperature was warmer than it previously was in the dank dungeon. Her body wasn't quite so numb. A healthy tan had yet to return color to her skin though. Being hungry and sick, she was still rather pale.

Not as pale as him though.

As soon as her captor appeared in her minds eye, Jasmine shoved the thought away. Her body shook in anger at just the thought of him.

I need to get out of here, she told herself firmly, and leaned her head back against the cool wet stone behind her. Beneath her hair the skin was still tender where she had been knocked against the wall by Mozenrath. She winced at the pain that came from the most likely bruised area, and moved her head back.

In a puddle that had formed around her feet and in front of her, Jasmine was able to see her reflection. It was a little blurry, but she took in her sallow skin, the tangled and dirt filled black hair, red rimmed eyes from lack of rest and small purplish color bruises forming near her neck and around the line of her jaw.

She felt disgraced. Princesses were supposed to be dignified. Here she was about as dignified as….a street rat.

Her heart ached for Aladdin at the thought of his horrible nickname that the upper class had given him. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and her thin fingers clutched at the clothing covering her heart. Though escape seemed impossible, as was the likelihood that anything in her town still remained after the destruction that had come to Agrabah, she just had to try.

It didn't take away from the fact of how horrible she felt. Her stomach felt as if it was trying to eat her insides, and all of her body seemed to throb now that blood was rushing through her veins again and she could feel all of the injuries that she had sustained in her stay here.

If she could convince Mozenrath that she could be of some use to him, would he let her leave? If she stayed sick as she was, he would just kill her off. She had no doubt on the fact that her life was literally in his hands and how quickly it could end. It was a priority to get better, otherwise she would end up rotting in this dank dungeon for the rest of her life, and she couldn't take that.

She kept her helpless position on the ground out of boredom, not having much room to move because of her chains. Soon enough, the first noises to hit her ears besides the dropping of water and the clank of chains was smooth footsteps. Her prison door creaked open again.

"Has someone changed their mind," Mozenrath questioned with a superior look in his eyes. A small smirk graced his lips.

Willing her face not to remain in a glare, she nodded her head.

"What do we say?"

Jasmine bit her lip so as not to scream at him. He was doing this on purpose to humiliate her. If groveling was what he wanted, then she had no choice but to deliver.

"I beg for your forgiveness for my ignorance," She told him softly.

"And what are you," Came the next question.

Jasmine was confused.

"I don't understand."

Mozenrath sighed.

"Where do you stand here?"

Her cheeks flushed in anger, finally understanding the implications of the question. Gritting her teeth together, she considered telling him to go to hell, but he probably would just kill her for insulting him.

"I don't hear an answer," He called, his dark eyes staring down at her as if she were an annoying creature who couldn't do as it was told.

Her mouth trembling in anger, she held back the words she truly wanted to say. Her eyes flashed at him, but he easily held her gaze.

"This is getting tiresome."

She could understand the warning behind the words. If he wasn't amused, she wasn't going to be living much longer. No wonder he was keeping her alive. The perfect toy to humiliate and take his anger out on. She prayed that there was no one out there with a temper like hers who would do so.

"Would you like me to say that I am worth nothing more than the dirt on your boots?"

She quirked an eyebrow, trying to gain back some of her usual confidence. Mozenrath stared in annoyance down her chained hands that were placed on each side of her curvy hips.

"That could be an answer," He murmured. "It would certainly be fairly accurate."

The red didn't disappear from her sallow colored face. He knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard.

"What would you like to say?"

"Oh," She snarled. "There are so many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't think you'll approve of any of them."

His booted foot came down on her leg. She winced, resting her head against the wall with an expression of pain.

"Has anyone told you what an insolent little girl you are? What gives you the right to talk to me like that? I'm wondering why I'm wasting my time with you."

"And you don't think I'm wondering the same thing," Jasmine bit back.

He stepped closer to her, a dangerous light in his eyes.

"Are you asking me to kill you then? So I don't have to bother with your whining self anymore? I think that would solve all of my problems."

Shit, that wasn't the idea she wanted to give him at all.

"Why do you hate me? I never met you before the attack on Agrabah. How could I have possibly done anything to anger you in this short time?"

He sneered down at her, and she was reminded of a younger, more handsome Jafar. That was with his personality and actions. His appearance however, made her think of Aladdin. He was a twisted, darker version of her love. Her stomach sickened at the connection she had made. She didn't WANT to compare this monster to Aladdin. He was too pure of a person to even be involved with that beast in the same sentence.

"What a stupid little girl. Do I need to have reasons to dislike you? Let's start with you personally. You are agitating, disrespecting my authority when I'm the one who has the upper hand. It also shows your stupidity in these moments."

His face seemed to get closer to her with every sentence he spoke. She hated the feel of his breath, looking that close at him. Her stomach rolled again, and she wasn't sure she could hold it down. Trying to stay brave, she shot him an icy stare, daring him to say more.

"Have I ever told you how much I HATE stupid? I really, truly can't tolerate it."

She turned her head away as he insulted her, acting almost as if she could protect herself from his jeers by looking away. A hand grabbed her chin tightly.

"I'm not done talking. You wanted an answer, and I'm not going to let you be an ungrateful spoiled brat and turn your head away. So LISTEN."

Jasmine struggled, shifting her face in his hand trying to move away. The chains clinked noisily in her ears and mixed with the sounds of her frustration.

"Look at me," He commanded in a harsh voice, and she realized how badly she was angering him. Stubbornly, out of instinct, she continued to ignore his wishes.

"LOOK AT ME!"

One of his hands pushed hard into her chest and knocked her body to the ground, her head scraping down the brick wall as she fell. Her mouth let out a loud cry of pain, and the back of her head stung as it bled.

"Now, let's consider the situation without involving your annoying personality. You are an unwanted prisoner. I wanted everyone in Agrabah left to rot. And yet, here you lie. So, for whose benefit am I keeping you alive for? You take up space in my dungeon, and waste my time annoying me. It would be so much easier for me to just snap your little neck and get it over with."

She wondered if he knew that she was starting to get black spots in her vision and his voice sounded as if it was coming down from a tunnel. She tried to pay attention to his words, but she was quickly growing too weak to keep herself awake.

"I am doing you a favor, and technically you've asked for it since you don't want me to kill you. So don't waste my patience or my time anymore than what you're doing by simply being here."

Jasmine tried to open her lips again, but things were too hazy to make sense. Her eyes fluttered shut slowly, opening a few more times before completely dropping. Her head finally fell still on the dungeon floor.

Mozenrath was quiet for a moment, observing the beaten princess that had been knocked unconscious. He didn't say anything, just merely stared.

"I think I may grow to regret this," He muttered, grabbing up the girl into his arms and taking her out of the dungeon. Passing two mamluks in the hallways that were patrolling, he pushed her towards one of them.

"Take her to a room. Find a bed and robes for her to wear. When she wakes, get her soup and a vial of blue serum in my study's cabinet."

Glad that that mess was over with, he turned down the opposite hallway and walked up the stone steps to his private chamber. The room was sparse, only a small bed with dark sheets and shelves of books and magical items surrounding the walls. A crystal ball sat on a small table, and he grabbed a handful of silver powder from a bowl. It was sprinkled on the object. At once the ball alighted with a glow, shining until a large image of an ugly flying creature appeared. It had pink flesh and beady eyes glazed with madness.

"I hope that you are taking care of problems in Agrabah," He questioned smoothly.

"Yes yes master," The creature shrieked. "All good. Sultan dead, heh heh heh heh." It continued to make snickering noises until Mozenrath gave him a cool glare.

It stopped mid laugh, and sucked in a sharp breath.

"You come see master?"

That was possibly an issue. Should he leave the temperamental childish princess alone with his dead mamluks? Give her the opportunity to get inventive? He couldn't chain her to the bed, because then there would be complications using the restroom. Smell carried through the citadel. Her room was just close enough to his own that was she to have to relieve herself in that situation; he would have to smell it. Mozenrath nearly made a face at the disgusting possibility.

No, he really should stay here. Xerxes looked weak, but he himself was a powerful tool for magic. He could easily ward off an army or two were he to be given some energy from his gauntlet.

"I'm sending an army of mamluks incase someone decides to visit Agrabah when they shouldn't. When they arrive, come back here and I'll give you supplementary energy, enough for you to put up an energy field and have enough power to look over the city for me."

The creatures pale pink flesh turned a darker shade with the joy of having some sense of responsibility. It eagerly nodded its head, too excited to be able to form words.

"Remember," He warned.

"You are in charge there, thus if something goes wrong, you will be blamed. I don't think you'd like a repeat performance from the last time you disobeyed me, now would you?"

Fear burrowed its way up into Xerxes eyes. Again, it nodded what would be the head of his body, wiggling in the air like a snake or slimy fish. Ugh, looking at him could make one ill. A faithful creature he may be, but eye pleasing he certainly wasn't.

Mozenrath turned his head away, losing interest in the conversation since he had said everything he needed to say.

"That's all." With a flick of his wrist, the crystal ball stopped glowing. His gauntlet burned on the bone beneath its massive shape, and he held in a breath at the discomfort. It seemed to suck life out of him every time he used it, an exchange of sorts. But it was a price- although certainly not a pleasant one- that he would pay for power. Power that would soon get him everything he ever wanted. It was simple in his eyes really: complete control.

Agrabah was his, and soon the neighboring cities would be his as well. Maybe once his stressful takeover was complete, he would finally end that pitiful girl's life. At least, if she wasn't dead from pissing him off first. That seemed like a very likely future for her if she hadn't learned by his little performance today.

All it would take is one time too many, when he just can't take stupidity one tiny bit at the moment, and he would snap. Snapping was very bad for the princess. That would mean she would have a very, very violent demise. Quick deaths were never something Mozenrath had been able to exert patience for. He was far too much of a perfectionist. Death had to be painful, and bloody. Messy possibly, but only in an artistic sense. To see that light of life finally flicker out of their eyes. That is what true murder was.

But at the very least, if she was scared into submission, she could prove to be of decent amusement, a way to waste his time when he had time available to waste. That loud mouth of hers could create some rather crafty comebacks, and he could always resort to beating her if he didn't like what he was hearing. If she started to annoy him and just be plain bratty rather than creative. The ball was in his court, he had the control. As long as it stayed like this, she'd be okay.

Idly he wondered: just how long was Jasmine going to last? If her fiery temper proved to be the best of her, he bet that she wouldn't last a week.