Deal – Part Two

Day four

The blood-curling screams in the distance caused the Sultan to awake.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out for. The last time he'd been awake, it was to watch his beloved daughter follow Jafar up the stairs, on the promise that they would be free.

Well, according to the tiny window of light, that had happened in the evening. It was now creeping towards sunrise, and if Jafar had returned, he hadn't bothered to wake any of them up.

Another scream, quicklymuffled to silence.

The Sultan was frozen, holding his breath, as he waited for any noise from his daughter, fearing the worst. The silence carried on for so long that he had begun to panic mentally, wondering if she was just remaining quiet, or if she was being quietened.

He'd never been so glad to hear the shouting of his ex-vizier's name, followed by multiple expletives, before he drifted off one again.

Her voice begged him.

The Sultan stirred slowly at the sound, a hoarse female voice that sounded fearful and nervous. He felt the gentle touch of fingers against his cheek, patting his face gently. She asked him again to wake up, her voice becoming more urgent.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, his breathing heavy, and immediately wished he could close them.

Jasmine's eyes were wide as she knelt in front of him, but that was the only part of her that remained childlike. The Sultan felt tears spring to his eyes at her split lip, the dark bruise across one cheek, and he could barely look at the tiny, torn outfit that she had been forced into. It took everything in him to ignore the trails of blood running down her leg. His voice trailed off as he asked what Jafar had done to his daughter, wondering if he truly wanted to know the answer.

But she'll be alright, and she cut him off, stretching up to his shackles but unable to stop the painful hiss that escaped her lips.

The Sultan watched her with wide eyes as she unearthed a key from her fist and begun to work on the lock. He's relieved to have seen that she's escaped.

She's not escaped, he's asleep; her voice quiet, in case anyone could over hear. She stole the key, but they don't have a lot of time, for she's sure that at least the guards are after her by now.

It took several minutes to unlock her father, beads of sweat beginning to pool on both of their foreheads; his of heat and hunger, hers of pain and a very real fear of being found. Even if she couldn't escape the palace, she reasoned, then at least she could get her father out somehow.

When she was done, the Sultan could barely move his hands, attempting to flex his fingers but his joints too stiff to do so. He'd clung to his daughter's hand as she reached for him, then hesitated as Jasmine glanced at the others, who weren't waking. She trailed off nervously, asking after their health.

But they haven't woken since she left. It doesn't look like they're breathing...

She closed her aching eyes against her father's words, not wanting him to finish, not wanting to know the truth. Jasmine could cope, she could live through anything Jafar threw at her, but allowing her friends to die... she would always hate him for that.

Always, she remembered with a shiver. There was no way that she could go through this again, night after night, but she's already...

It's with a start that she noticed her father studying her, concerned, and she swallowed tightly, grabbing his hand. They hurried up the stairs to the doorway, near escape, near freedom, and it's only at the top of the stairs that the Sultan wondered why his daughter hadn't thrown on a cape of some sort to run.

And it's then that the door flew open with a bang, and Jafar's shadow rises over them; Razoul's shadow behind him wrapped around them.

So close, he commented with a smirk. His bed was becoming cold without his soon-to-be wife.

The Sultan turned to Jasmine, a mixture of horror and pain written on his face, but she refused to look at him, refused to look at anyone. She whispered faintly that it's true. She had a choice, but it was with a knife held against her throat... her agreement was the only thing keeping her alive; it was either that, or immediate death in Jafar's bedchamber.

Jasmine wished she chose the latter.

She raised her eyes to Jafar's, her voice trying to be strong but her eyes afraid, afraid of him. Let her father go; he promised.

The smirk never leaves his face. Of course.

Empty promises.

She cried out as Jafar took her by the wrist, hurling her towards him. She wanted to desperately fight him off, but she fears what he would do then, and as she's pulled up the stairs, Jasmine glanced back at her father, knowing that her last thing in the world to live for was about to disappear.

And she's the last thing the Sultan sees, before Razoul walks slowly down the stairs before him, his sword gleaming in the bleak sunlight.

Fin