Jasmine dines alone, as has been her custom now for weeks. She had found such contentment in simple conversation when Jafar had joined her each evening. Now she only sees him in the courtyard, as was their original arrangement.
Tonight, as many of the past few, she finds herself reflective. Perhaps it is all to have been expected. You can't cage a tiger then ask it to thank you for the steel bars. Would she not have found any way to escape had their roles been reversed? Years before, another life, when he had wished the kingdom and offered her a crown to sit at his side, had she not used her own sexuality to distract him, seducing him to gain the upper hand? She had knowingly helped trap him presumably forever in that lamp. Her anger at his so called betrayal has been dissipating for days. Her life is but a few decades on this earth and it appears she may spend the rest of it alone; now with another poor soul shackled to her suffering in his own solitude.
Her people are otherwise very satisfied. The year has been prosperous and peaceful, mostly without the use of Jafar's power, only his presence.
Her public face is serene smiles and a powerful gaze. No one knows her heart, least of all the man who broke it.
She levels a golden spoon shallow in a bowl of soup but does not lift it to her lips. She stares at the tendrils of steam, reminding her of smoke and magic.
Laying the spoon back to the side of her bowl, Jasmine rises and bids her staff to take the plate away. She has found little appetite of late. Her legs feel weak beneath her and she retreats to her chambers to sleep.
XXX
Days pass and Jasmine finally succumbs to the weakness of her body. She believes what she needs is rest. The hunt for the thieves, the strain of the kingdom, and that palpable loneliness that haunted her so long and now returned, exhaustion has taken her.
After a time however, her breathing more labored and her skin hot, she would admit this is more than stress and heartbreak. She no longer leaves her room to dine, asking instead that meals be brought to her room. Each day, less is taken from the tray as her appetite wanes.
On the third day that she does not visit the courtyard, Jafar has ceased thinking that she is being dramatic, or avoiding him. The first days, he stubbornly ignored her absence and handled matters of state in her stead.
By day four, he is afraid.
On the fifth day, stubborn man though he is, he approaches her private rooms, where he has not stepped foot nor appeared in smoke since the night she...
Since that night.
He stands in front of the door and raises a hand to knock, hesitating a moment before firmly wrapping on the heavy wood.
He hears no reply and thinks perhaps she is asleep when her lady in waiting opens and peers up at him in question.
"Royal Vizier." She curtsies an awkward little bow. "I'm afraid the Sultana is not feeling well. Is this urgent?"
"I would like to assess her health. If she is too sick to attend to her kingdom, perhaps I can create a medicine for her."
The lady nods, defaulting to his superior status, though secretly she is afraid to allow the dark man near her mistress in her weak state. She stands aside and opens the door, allowing him to breeze past her.
He strides to the bed and stops short when he sees her pale face. He looks back at the attendant.
"How long has she been like this?! Have you sent for a healer?"
"Begging your pardon but yes, sir, three days ago. He gave her something to make her more comfortable but had no other answers."
"Leave us," he growls at her.
"Uh... if you please, sir, it is my duty to take care-"
"Leave. Now." He's quieter but there is no arguing with the icy tone.
The lady slowly nods but then scurries from the room. "I'll return with her lunch if it pleases you."
He waves her away. "Yes, yes, fine."
Jafar approaches the tiny queen and swallows at the sight of her. Her eyes are closed in what he imagines to be a restless sleep. Her skin is waxy, her gorgeous black silk hair is dull and matted, her breath raspy and shallow.
He sits beside her tiny figure on the bed, careful not to jostle her, but she wakes anyway.
"Jafar..." Her voice is a hoarse whisper.
"Jasmine, how long have you been like this? Why didn't you send for me? I have healing magics, potions, tomes of remedies."
She offers a weak smile. "I was sure...I could beat... this." Shallow breaths and coughs disrupt her speech.
Jafar looks over her and his mind races to the past. He sees another black haired lady, coughs racking her frame, her visage pallid and drawn.
"Well you can't," he spits out in frustration. "And your healers are worthless. They couldn't help her and they won't save you."
In her fever she has been confused, hardly lucid many times. But she is clear of mind now and she knows what he means without him needing to say it.
Her Mother. They could not save her Mother.
He's searching her cloudy eyes and he knows the worst truth. He couldn't save her either. And he's not sure, even after the years spent collecting more and more knowledge, that he can help her daughter now.
Except really, he knows he can.
"Make a wish, Jasmine. Wish for your health. I can't bring you back if you die but I can give you vitality, take the sickness from you. But you have to say it."
She shakes her head barely.
"You have to say it! Or I can't." He sounds angry at first. Then almost pleading.
"That wish is... for my people. I did not... search to find...you... to waste it."
"Well no one will have it if you are dead." He takes her cold hand in his own almost without thinking. His anger at her dissolves into the very real fear that he might lose her.
Jasmine could be cynical. She could assume he only cares because her death would mean he would not be freed and forced into service to yet another master. A flicker of her feverish brain does think that but it seems so small now. All that matters to her in this moment is a warm hand relieving the chill in her own. She smiles at him and tries to grip his hand back.
"I want to... use that wish... for my kingdom. But if you... could do something… you, Jafar,... not the Genie, I would be even more... in your debt."
He looks at her intensely, anger welling inside him. Not at her precisely, though the frustration with his stubborn queen is no small part of it.
"I will do everything I can but if you have not improved by tomorrow, you are going to make that wish. You think you are being selfish to use it on yourself? You would leave your kingdom with no heir to your throne. The vultures will come out and tear this palace apart for the privilege of ruling the rubble that is left. Do you understand me?"
She stares back at his narrowed eyes and tries to nod in response. Really, all she manages is a purposeful blink but he takes it as his confirmation and nods back, some of his anger and fear releasing their hold.
"When that insufferable woman comes back with your lunch you need to eat it. As much as you feel you can. With luck she is bright enough to bring you something simple like broth. I will return to you this afternoon after I visit the apothecary. Drink water, sleep, and try to eat. That's all you are to concern yourself with today."
She smiles a little as he commands her. "Yes... Jafar."
He releases her hand but places his for the briefest moment on her cheek before he turns and leaves the room. He barely reaches the hall when he transports himself in smoke to his chambers to begin his research.
In her bed, Jasmine, more frail than she has ever been, closes her eyes and feels a hand caress her skin, even though it is no longer there.
XXX
In his rooms, Jafar searches through dusty tomes he has not needed in a lifetime. The spine of a leather bound book cracks a little in protest. He flings it across the room for its trouble when he can't find what he needs.
Finally, after some time, he stumbles on something that looks to hold promise. He re-reads the formula many times before deciding this is what he needs. Most of the ingredients named can be found within his own inventory of powders, herbs, and plants. A few however, he will need to find at the market.
Not bothering with the charade that he is mortal man, he disappears from his rooms and is immediately standing in the apothecary's shop, the surprised man gaping at him, frozen in place.
Jafar approaches him with the page from his book, now free of its bindings, held in front of him. "I need these things," pointing at the last two items.
"I-uh-yes, Royal Vizier, anything you need. J-just a moment." He hurries away from the imposing man and finds 2 vials amongst his stock. Jafar snatches them and tosses a gold coin on the counter. Jasmine would prefer he pay for it.
In a breath he is gone again, before the coin even comes to rest. The shopkeeper is dazed but picks up the payment and pockets it on instinct, more surprised than anyone he had been compensated at all.
XXX
Jasmine is trapped in feverish dreams. She wakes when her lady returns with, as Jafar had hoped, a light broth. She is also given bread and fruit. A few nibbles of bread and perhaps half of the broth is all she can do. The fruit turns her stomach and she sends it away untouched.
Her skin is hot, but Jasmine only feels a chill that seeps into her bones. She asks her attendant to sit with her until she sleeps, to hold her hand. She would never admit to Jafar, but she is afraid. More so now that his own fear made hers more valid. She is sick very much like her Mother had been. And here she is putting her faith in the man who could not save her, just as her Father had.
She drifts back into sleep and doesn't know when her attendant rises to open the door.
Jafar nods at the lady and she opens the door wide for him to enter without a word.
Once inside, he glances at the sleeping Queen and asks, "How has she been?"
"She managed a little soup this afternoon, and bread. She has mostly slept but not well. She says she's cold but the fever is on her. Her skin could nearly light a fire."
He nods and produced a vial from his robes. "This should do something for the fever. Leave us a while. I will stay with her."
"Yes, M'Lord. I'll just be in kitchen should you need me."
She leaves and he watches the door shut before turning back to the bed and approaching the frail Sultana.
As before, he sits gently but she wakes from her hazy sleep. "You're… back."
"I have something for you and you need to drink it. All of it. If it works, you should begin to improve by tonight. If not, you will improve because you will wish it so."
Jasmine closes her eyes and nods carefully, knowing she will not give up her wish so easily but having not the strength to argue.
"I'm going to help you sit up so you can drink." Jafar sets the vial on the table to her side and slides an arm under her tiny frame. The effort in simple movement shows on her face as she grimaces in discomfort. When she is sitting against the silk pillows, he takes the vial and holds it to her lips.
"Every drop, Jasmine."
He tips it up and she begins to drink the bitter concoction with effort. She tries to stop but he urges her on, commanding but gently, and tips the vial slowly into her mouth.
When the container is empty he helps her lay back down and stands from the bed. He feels her take his hand weakly. "Don't leave… please."
He turns back to her and answers, "I won't. I'll be right here." He gestures to a chair just off the foot of the bed. "Sleep now. I'll wake you for dinner."
She smiles in response and closes her eyes, comforted by the sound of the chair scraping the floor as he sits.
XXX
When the morning sun breaks the horizon and streams light into her room, Jasmine wakes feeling something that has become foreign.
She's hungry.
She looks around her room and is a little disappointed to see her lady in waiting in the chair by her bed. Jafar had been there when she woke for dinner the night before, as he had promised, but then had left her in the care of her lady, seeming satisfied that her skin no longer burned to the touch.
She tries to sit up but finds she is still very weak, her movements waking the woman watching over her.
"M'Lady, don't strain yourself so. What can I get you?"
Jasmine returns a soft, "I'm hungry. Can you ask the kitchens for my breakfast?" She makes it through the phrase without coughing.
The woman smiles and stands quickly. "Of course! Right away, Highness. I'll be right back."
As she rushes away, Jasmine manages to sit up on her own and looks out to the pink morning sky.
XXX
In the hall, Jafar sees the woman leave Jasmine and stops her with his hand in front of her face. "Why are you leaving her alone?"
"Apologies but she asked for breakfast. Even sat up by herself! I think she is finally coming around, Your Grace."
He nods in approval and gestures the woman continue. Starting toward Jasmine's door, he reconsiders and instead returns to his room in solitude.
XXX
He does not see her again until three days later when she has the strength to meet him in the courtyard. She smiles at him brightly but he has returned to his dark brooding and only nods at her as he sits and ignores his tea.