The summer days are lazy, finding Jasmine and Jafar falling into a familiar routine. Their banter is sharp and the kingdom continues to flourish. Jasmine listens to Jafar's advice with interest. Often she agrees and heeds his concerns. Occasionally she acts against his better judgment, sometimes to her detriment but other times with positive result.
In the end, Jasmine is happy with her choice to resurrect the Vizier. He had threatened her husband and her Father but time has given her a new perspective. Those men are dead, reclaimed by the desert sands, but thousands of people look to her for guidance, protection, and prosperity. With Jafar, she has given it over and over. She was a decent queen before. She's better with him. For his part, he is a better ruler than Aladdin ever hoped to be. She has no doubt her Father would not have been as beloved without Jafar's guidance.
He approaches her in the courtyard for their usual tete a tete.
She smiles. Her smiles are given more freely these days. "Good morning, Jafar."
He slows at her warm tone and curls his lip into his own smile. "Jasmine." He nods as he sits and doesn't hesitate to pick up the tea offered.
"So I've been thinking…"
He raises an eyebrow and engages in their usual banter. "I never doubted you were capable. I support you in the endeavor."
She huffs and blows her bangs in frustration. "Could you not do that, Jafar? I'm being serious." She smirks in mock annoyance.
He waves her to continue, hiding his own smirk in a sip of tea. "You were saying…"
She takes in a deep breath, the nerve she built up to approach him somewhat shattered. She isn't sure why she is surprised. He has never been what one would call gracious.
"I was thinking that perhaps you would like to join me for dinner in the evenings."
"In your infinite wisdom you recalled I don't eat, yes?"
"Yes I remember you have no needs as you so eloquently put it. But I also notice you enjoy that tea you don't need." She points one manicured finger at his cup.
He pauses just as the cup touches his lip and looks sideways at her, slightly bemused.
She grins slyly. "Take a meal with me. We are our only companions you and I. Or so I assumed. I see you with little other company."
He thinks for a moment and realizes what she is dancing around. She is lonely. Jafar has always been comfortable with himself and does not require the mindless chatter that comes with human interaction.
Still, he does enjoy stimulating conversation. He would never admit it aloud, maybe not even fully to himself, but he doesn't dislike the company of the young woman currently awaiting his answer. What harm could come?
"Not a wish I suppose but a request, my dear?"
She nods.
"Very well then. What time do you dine?"
"Sundown. Will you join me this evening? I could have something prepared by the staff. Anything you would like."
"Don't make promises you may not be able to keep. I like a great many things." His silky drawl plays over the words and his eyes flash. She feels a discomfort that is not altogether unpleasant.
Jasmine stands and moves to walk away. "I'll see you at sundown then," she says shyly.
"What of our morning meeting? Have you no business for me then?"
"Nothing today, Jafar. Thank you. Please stay and enjoy the tea." She rushes away feeling the flush in her cheek and hopes he did not notice.
He watches her fly from him and smiles into his tea. She is fun to taunt. More so now that her cheeks blush at his implications.
Jafar sits in the courtyard a moment longer before returning to his room, looking forward to the evening. He spends a quiet afternoon searching through old tomes and remembering his life before. Both sentiment and regret pay him a visit in his solitude.
As the summer sky turns to dusk, Jasmine enters the lavish dining hall and finds Jafar already seated at the table, set for two, but much too large for the pair of them.
He stands gallantly when she enters and waits to take his seat until she is perched in her lush chair and nods at him in greeting.
"Good evening, Jafar. Thank you for joining me."
"My pleasure."
In a moment of uncharacteristic and brutal honesty, Jafar continues and bares the tiniest corner of his soul. "I appreciate it was an invitation rather than an order. I have been afforded very little respect in this slavery."
A tiny part of Jasmine wants to scoff. Wants to throw in his face how little respect he had shown her, her Father, her husband. But that feels petty and out of date. She imagines perhaps they have moved past this. However, she still hesitates to not cross from warmth to weakness.
"You have been everything true to your word in our dealings and I think respect is fair due."
He'll take that, he thinks. Respect is a base for trust. Trust is necessary if he ever hopes to be free of his shackles.
He smiles congenially and gestures to her quickly cooling plate. "Shall we, my dear?"
Her own smile widens and she picks up her fork. "I remembered you like pheasant."
They both sample their meals and she secretly watches him, pleased to see the enjoyment on his face.
"So I've been thinking…"
"Twice in one day, Your Grace? My, you've been busy."
She smirks and holds his gaze, raises her eyebrows defiantly. She smiles even more broad when he rolls his eyes away in mock defeat.
"As I was saying, I was thinking you might like to move to new quarters."
"Why would I want that? I've not the-"
"Needs of a mortal man," she finishes. "Yes, yes I know. But I think I am continuing to prove you still like things."
He pauses as the fork approaches his mouth with a touch of mirth in his eyes.
"Outside of the Royal Family you are the single highest ranking official in the kingdom." She takes a deep breath and plunges forward. "I thought you might like the largest suite down the corridor from mine. It befits your station and I'd like you to have it."
He raises his eyebrows at her. "Why, Jasmine that's very generous. However I've lived, albeit with an absence in the middle, in the palace for twenty years. Why does this just strike you now?"
She blushes a little before she answers. "I actually always wondered why they put you in that tower."
She picks her fork back up and pretends to find much interest in her meal again. "Anyway I thought I would offer. Can I ask the staff to assist you in moving your effects tomorrow?"
He continues to look at her with a curious expression for a moment but she refuses to meet his eye. "Very well then. Thank you, Jasmine."
She looks back with a genuine smile. "You're welcome."
They continue their meal in a comfortable silence. When their food is gone and they bid each other a good night, Jafar bows to her slightly, with no mockery in his frame, and she grins before she glides away.
XXX
The seasons change though it is hard to tell in the desert heat. Jasmine rises from a shallow sleep, feeling a sense of presence. She blinks slowly in her waking and focuses her gaze to the man standing mere paces from her bed. Jafar stares at her.
He has been her advisor now for months. He is invaluable to her and she no longer tries to deny it, neither to herself or to him. Their alliances are stronger and their enemies don't dare approach their borders. Their only conflict against the kingdom has been from within. It is concerning this that he comes to her at an inappropriate hour.
She had asked him to come day or night with word.
"I am sorry to wake you."
She sits up, careful to hold the silk sheet against her rather exposed body, clad in a thin silk camisole and little else.
"What's wrong, Jafar?"
"There has been another raid. The men have just returned and found no survivors."
She nods and levels her gaze in thought. "Thank you for telling me. Have we found them yet?"
He shakes his head. "Not as of yet. I would like to apply more men to the search and give them… discretion to act should they find them, if I might have your leave?"
"You have it. Get it done. I would prefer arrests to assassinations so that we might question until we have found them all. But I will not look ill upon the appearance of any dead thieves."
"Very well I will ask Razoul to assemble-"
"No," she interrupts, "not Razoul. He is likely to take the head off a starving peasant for stealing a crumb as anything."
Jafar sneers at her soft-hearted sentiment and starts to speak but she holds up her hand for silence.
"I want you to choose the men, Jafar." He is taken aback but nods.
"Let me be clear, I don't want to terrorize our people. I want to find the thieves, not be brought straw men to satisfy what you think is my justice. Killing beggars and orphans will not stop the raids and is therefore not my concern. The market takes care of its own and people are already punished for theft. But I will not send skilled guards on a manhunt to bring me scape goats. Find the thieves guild. And if the men you select are not capable, I will find better ones myself."
He stares but dares a smile that dances in his eyes though hardly touches his lips. He offers a curt bow. "As it pleases you, Jasmine."
"Dead thieves will please me."
He affords himself a glance at the exposed clavicles and bare shoulders of his strong Queen, his eyes trailing her neck, her jawline, and deep into her almond eyes. He walks back into the corridor slightly dazed by the affect, her flawless skin and fierce gaze almost as alluring as her commanding strength. She is a different Jasmine than the one he had known in his previous life. Before his curse he had thought if he could take the throne in a coup, make her his wife, he would have her subservient and weak, weary from the feisty and defiant adolescent she had been. He thinks he likes this version of her much more.
In her room, Jasmine looks after her Vizier as he walks briskly away. She feels her breath catch in her throat as she remembers that look in his eyes, devouring her skin, and she feels she might burn up from it. With a tiny whimper she buries herself back into her lonely bed and tries to find sleep once more.