Raid after raid torments the people of Agrabah, mostly at the borders, in small helpless villages. Weeks of fruitless searching for the responsible men has left Jasmine frustrated and feeling powerless. This time, she asks to be taken to the field to see the carnage first hand. Fifty men are assembled and she instructs Jafar to come as well. The party leaves on a warm clear morning at dawn, reaching the outlying village before the midday sun.
Jasmine steps down from her transport delicately, taking the hand gallantly offered by one of her attendants. Jafar stands staring coldly over the scene.
Bodies litter the sands and scorched earth. Homes are reduced to rubble and ash. Walking slowly among the dead, Jasmine steps over the torso of a woman, walks around the lifeless form of a grey-haired elder, and stares sadly at the body of a young man holding his infant child.
She stops when she reaches a small boy. He wears rags and his head bleeds from the wound that probably killed him.
Jasmine has tried to turn her heart to stone, to be the strong and effective ruler the city needs. But now the regal woman sits in the sands and cradles the boy to her chest, his blood staining the soft green of her silk dress.
Jafar watches her and looks across the desolation before them. He thinks he should be disgusted by her show of weakness. A Sultana should not openly weep for the life of a peasant. But he finds he cannot look at her with anything but admiration and sympathy. She is not a weak Queen. He had thought to find her broken, mewling like a kitten in the face of the ugly world. But she is strong and sure and fierce. Her compassion has made her only more assured when leading her people. He starts to approach her to… comfort her? He's not even sure himself.
Before he can reach her however, she stands and makes her way to him, the tears drying on her cheeks but no longer falling from her eyes.
"How many raids, Jafar?" She hisses quietly at him so the men cannot hear.
"Nine. Ten if the market raid had not been stopped by your guard."
"I'm ready to make my first wish."
Jafar starts visibly. He had nearly fallen into such a routine with her he had almost forgotten he was not simply the Royal Vizier.
He lays a hand softly at the bend of her arm. "I cannot bring back the dead, Jasmine. You know that is one of my limits."
"I know." She turns to face the leader of her assembled men, speaking loudly so all of them might hear.
"Captain, your men will stand in a line facing the village and close their eyes until I give word. When I tell you, they are to open their eyes and let loose their arrows and whatever men stand before them."
He bows deeply to her, "Yes, Majesty, as you command."
She waits for the guards to assemble and ready their bows then turns back to Jafar and growls her first wish.
"I wish that the people directly responsible for the deaths here will all appear together in a line parallel to my men, 6 paces in front of their drawn bows."
He can't help but smile at her careful wish. "People" responsible, not men lest there be any women to pay for this crime. "6 paces" from her men to give the guards room to fire their bows.
"As you wish" he purrs in approval.
No less than 40 men suddenly appear in a line on the sands. Some hold food in their filthy hands. Some are nude, probably having been bathing or, more likely, fornicating.
The petite Queen screams, "Now!" and fifty soldiers loose their bows into the waiting gullets of the thieves. Most are dropped immediately, often with more than one shaft protruding from their dead frames. The rest are picked off handily after an incredibly fast reload.
She looks on until she is satisfied there is no movement amongst the dead. She speaks again to the captain. "I want the victims all buried with honor today. The thieves are to be left to rot. Let the birds eat their eyes."
She turns on her heel and returns to her transport.
Jafar hurries ahead of her and stands in front of her attendant to offer his hand. He bows almost reverently.
She notices and, after a moment, accepts his hand and nods back with a quiet smile.
"Nine raids but this was the last, my dear."
She seats herself and looks back, watching Jafar walk away and approach the black steed he rode into the dessert, travelling as a man as she had requested. He easily vaults himself to the tall beast and pulls the reigns to join the caravan back to the palace.
XXX
Jasmine is quiet at dinner that evening, staring at nothing in particular and hardly touching her food. Jafar enters late and makes his apologies.
"I am sorry to be late, my dear. I was attending to the burial services of the village."
She is surprised to say the least, eyes widening a little. "Thank you, Jafar."
"It seemed appropriate someone represent the throne."
He tears at a piece of bread and chews it as she watches him.
"Do you think I acted rashly?"
"Sentencing those men to death? On the contrary I think it was necessary."
She shakes her head. "No, using the wish. I thought I should use them for something grand. Something to help my people for generations. I only have one left to give them."
He stares at her a moment before answering. He is a little incensed that she would hesitate now. "No, I do not think that was rash. How many more raids before we would have found them? This is the single largest threat you face and you acted with confidence; a shame you question it now."
She feels his agitation but has little patience for it tonight. "If you will excuse me, I find I am not hungry this evening. I need some air."
He stands with her and walks to her side, offering his arm as close to an apology as he can bring himself to give. "I find I am never hungry. Perhaps you would like company?"
He heart jumps a little and she accepts.
He leads her outside to a stone balcony that circles the dining room. She pulls her arm from his and leans over the railing, looking out into the distance, to the lantern lights in her city. "I never wanted to rule you know."
"I'm sorry?"
"I knew I was supposed to but I never really wanted it. I'm sure you find that weak." She doesn't wait for an answer, is afraid of what it would be. "Do you remember me when I was young?"
He muses and smiles a forgotten smile, but she does not see. He only says "I do."
"I was so self-assured… but truthfully I had no idea what I was doing." She laughs a little and then looks up at him. "Thank you, Jafar. I know you think you had no choice but I-" How to finish? She looks out over the city and says quietly, "I needed you."
Jafar looks at her but says nothing. Instead he slides his arm over her shoulder and stands that way, holding her to him, looking out over their city.
After a time, Jasmine glances up at him a moment then quickly drops her eyes, unable to look in his face as she says, "I remember you, you know."
He chuckles softly. "Yes I imagine you do. It wasn't that long ago. And there was much… unpleasantness before I was banished to that blasted lamp." His tone darkens a little at the mention of his curse but he does not take his arm away.
She's glad he stays beside her as she continues and shakes her head. "No I mean before, when I was a girl."
He looks down in surprise. He is seldom truly surprised but in this moment he is.
"You were young when my Mother died. I didn't realize it at the time of course. Everyone is old when you are a child." She smiles up now, no longer shying from his eyes. But the smile becomes sad as she says, "You comforted me then. Why did you turn against me?"
He snorts and moves from her. She regrets immediately her words pushing him away. "I didn't turn against you. If you mean my so called betrayal, if you recall I would have wed you if you'd had me. What I could not stomach was watching your clown Father play at being Sultan."
"He was a good man," she says quietly. "He was kind and he trusted you completely. More than I did," she muses.
"He was a fool who watched his wife perish and left his daughter in despair alone. He ruled like a child and saw no urgency in anything. Do you know how many alliances I had to save? How many threats I had to extinguish?" His voice has risen as he speaks but then drops low as he continues. "Yes I was young when your Mother left you. Too inexperienced in healing to be of any help yet your Father left her health in my hands. His faith in me was misguided and she paid the highest price for it."
Jasmine looks at him with discerning eyes. "Is that why you changed after that?" She hesitates to say it. "Guilt?"
"Of course I felt guilt!" He hisses in the night, leaned over the balcony rail, the muscles in his arms straining as he clutches the warm stone.
Jasmine approaches and lays a hand on his back. She changes the course of the conversation, back to where she had wanted to be in the beginning. "I missed you after that."
His eyes soften a little, muscles in his arms relax.
"I never knew if it mattered to you but when I was a little girl, you meant a lot to me. I just want you to know that now."
He continues to stare down at her when he finally turns and puts his hands at her waist, leaning down to take her lips with his. She is surprised, her eyes going wide, but she gives no resistance and soon wraps her own arms around his neck.
When their kiss becomes more heated, urgent, they both break away in the shock of it.
"Jafar-"
He assumes she is about to scold him. Question him and he interrupts her immediately. "I apologize, Jasmine, it will not happen again."
With that, he is gone in red smoke, Jasmine still standing, her mouth open to speak.
She tells the empty balcony, "It's ok…"