Disclaimer: I do not own Aladdin.

A/N: Coming up in the next few chapters especially are several plot ideas that Haillie helped me come up with. We sat on my bed for hours mulling over a solution to one of the biggest plot problems in history (ok so it was 15 minutes but for our brains it took very much thought). Still, it's not the perfect solution and a little Star-Warsy. What the problem was is at the end of the chapter, you'll see!

Chapter 10

A Puzzle

(Jafar)

I sat in the darkest corner of the palace, leaning against the wall, (twice in a day, I was turning into a weakling), and weeping.

"Dry your tears, dude," said a voice. I was too busy being preoccupied in my own thoughts to think it odd for somebody to tell me to dry my face, as if I were a little boy being told off.. "I'm not crying, there's just something in my eye," I mumbled while trying to wipe my face dry with my sleeve and still look dignified. Haillie's face came into focus. "Yeah, those things in your eye are called tears," she observed.

I was too tired out to protest and remind her who she was talking to when the hot pink djinn sat down next to me on the step and lapsed into silence, something that would have amazed me in a happier mood. Right now, I barely noticed her presence and couldn't have cared no matter what she did. Jala hated me, the only friend besides Iago that I had ever had. I hadn't fallen in love with her any more than I had fallen in love with Iago, but she had obviously with me, for what reason I could not comprehend.

"Huh, Jafarty. If you want Jala back, then you'd best take my advice," Haillie sniffed out of no where. I raised a wary eyebrow at her, stifling the onslaught of tears. "Jafarty? If you call me that again, I'll…" "You'll what, kill me?" scoffed Haillie. "Face it, there's nothing you can do to me anymore." I thought about that, regretting that I really couldn't.

"She's my sister. I know what she'll like if you give her something…" Haillie said slowly. I was suddenly all ears.

"What? What do I do?" I asked, too eager-schoolboy sounding for my taste. "Genies love to be given things, because they are constantly giving and the world never seems to offer a present back," Haillie explained. "Give her flowers, she'll love it!" I was incredulous. Somebody like Jala enjoying flowers?

A smile played across my lips. "You know what, Haillie? Flowers are too mild for this genie. I know just what to get her."

…………………

As I walked into my chambers, I was no longer wary of the golden lamp sitting on the dresser. I tapped on it lightly and whispered, "Jala? Are you home?"

A saucy voice replied immediately. "Of course I'm home, where did you think I was? Well, certainly not free!" Instantly, I regretted even speaking. I wanted to sink into the deepest, darkest hole there was in Agrabah and never come out. Then I could possibly be granted the hope to shrivel up and die. A little voice in the back of my head tormented me. "Look what this GENIE has done to you, Jafar! Where is the evil genius hiding?"

"I…I have a present for you," I said hesitantly. Instantly, a swivel of green smoke poured out of the lamp and into the air. Jala materialized, looking like she had been crying just like me too. "What." She sounded almost interested, though her eyes would never betray it. I managed to convince myself that I had imagined it.

From the recesses of my cloak, I brought forth a stick.

Jala's green orbs brightened immediately. Something golden swelled up in my chest that felt like sunlight. I was pretty sure that it was a new feeling to me, but it felt somehow vaguely familiar. Jala took the stick from my outstretched hands and hugged it. "A stick! Oh, Jafar…" "I thought you might like it," I said uncomfortably. "And Haillie helped," I added hastily on a second thought. Her eyes started to brim over again. The golden, bubbly feeling disappeared to be replaced by embarrassment.

I didn't have time for that, because Jala swooped in and hugged me in a choking embrace.

……………..

I opened my eyes to find Jala looking at me sadly.

The memories of yesterday filled my mind and I shot up from my bed, my cheeks instantly flooding with redness. "Er, good morning," I said, jittery. The voice in the back of my head was filled with revulsion for this new self. Jala gave me a shy smile. "Morning." Since when had Jala been shy? All of a sudden, I felt extremely, extremely awkward being there.

"I have my first wish for you," I finally said, trying to change the subject. Jala looked even slightly…disappointed? "Oh, finally!" she said cheerily. I could tell she had been hoping for me to say something else, but I had no experience with this kind of thing and let it drop. "I wish to know exactly what is going on with the royal line, all with Jasmine's wish messing it up and all." Jala sighed and waved her arms.

Stacks of books instantly appeared. My eyes widened. "Actually, I was preferring that you told me about it." "Oh." Jala made all of the scrolls and books vanish with a smug smile on her face. "I'm just doing that to be nice, you know," she said sarcastically. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Jala rolled her eyes. "You once admitted to knowing everything." I sighed. "A man has his own reasons for lying. Now tell me the story of the throneline!" Jala considered, then said slowly, "I think that you should get the others here to hear this also. It may solve many problems. I'll go and fetch them." Before I could protest, (twice in a week), she vanished, obviously going to fetch the others.

A few minutes later, she returned with Aladdin, Genie, and Haillie looking as usual but with Sorrah and Jasmine looking quite pale. "I'm next in line for the throne," croaked Sorrah. I crumpled into a chair. Aladdin seemed to have stopped breathing. Jala sighed. "I have a story that might be highly helpful in sorting this out, so don't have a heart attack yet, Sorrah, please," she said, meaning for it to be kind. Sorrah smiled weakly as Jala launched into her story.

………………

Thousands of years ago, when Agrabah was still new, there lived a Sultan. He was not well loved by the people: greedy, selfish and uncaring. What did he care if an infant peasant boy died? What did it matter to him, surrounded by jewels and gloating on his velvet throne and the best court that any man could ask for? However, the joy of his life, the only part of him that still was humane and not consumed by greed, loved his wife the Sultana.

The Sultana was lovely, beautiful like a porcelain doll. She had a kind heart and sympathetic nature. Why she had married the Sultan, nobody could say, but rumors flew around the palace. One day, she fell extremely ill. On her deathbed, she asked her trusted handmaiden to summon the Sultan. "Assassins are planning to kill you…" she whispered on her last her breath. "Take our twin daughters with you, and hide for your lives!" Then she slumped over, limp, and died.

The Sultan, wild with despair, acted immediately on his love's death wish. He summoned the Grand Vizier, and gravely told him of the Sultana's wish. The Grand Vizier was to act as the Sultan, nobody was to know that they had two baby princess daughters. The Grand Vizier's last view of the Sultan was as he fled out of a side door of the palace, clutching the two bundles of fabric that were his daughters.

They went to live in the hills as simple shepherds. The daughters grew up never knowing of their royal bloodline, the father tried his hardest to keep their family secret from them. The Grand Vizier had a son, and he became the princely heir to the throne, and gradually, the real Sultan and his daughters were forgotten by everybody save the Grand Vizier, who was still furiously loyal to his old Majesty.

One day, the two daughters went out to pick wildflowers in the woods. They never returned. The shepherd was wild with grief, and he was alone in the world. He jumped over a cliff, and his bones were scattered by the wind. Still, nobody knew about them, living in a very remote countryside of Agrabah. They were completely forgotten once the good Grand Vizier decoy passed away, buried in dust. The Prince was made Sultan of Agrabah, and his throneline continued for the next three thousand years.

…………………

Jala paused and looked at Sorrah. "You are the direct blood descendant of the Grand Vizier, the decoy. Therefore, you have no real royal blood in you. Jasmine has even less right, as she was wished onto the throne. The Sultana is Sorrah's mother, not yours, Jasmine," she added in on a second thought. Sorrah looked immensely relieved. "So…you mean, that Sultan…his descendants have full right to the throne, and I have no legal claim?" Jala nodded. Sorrah looked like she could sing.

I didn't know what was so great to be scooted off of your rightful throne. I would have loved to have been scooted on to it, and now I suddenly realized that there was a chance that I was heir to the long-lost daughters, (nobody knew if they had died, didn't they?), and the throne would be mine. Acting on my idea, I turned to Jala, ignoring the tense look she gave me.

"Jala, does that mean that I might be the rightful heir to the throne?" I asked, trying not to sound hopeful. Jasmine looked horrified at the very idea. So did everybody else in the room, for that matter, except for Haillie, who had become interested in a piece of lint hanging from the edge of my carpet and was crooning a lullaby to it.

Jala hesitated. I thought she just didn't want to hurt my feelings, (so naïve, so naïve…youth is wasted on the young), but she looked truly scared. "I…you see…" she cleared her throat rather nervously, I thought. "I know who those two daughters were, and who really IS the rightful heir to the throne," she said at last. "Who?" asked Aladdin, Jasmine, Sorrah, Genie, and I. "Hmmm, that's nice," said Haillie absently.

My green genie smiled slightly. "Ah, I don't know. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow morning." Aladdin gave her a look that said if she tried something remotely like that, he would throttle her. For once, I agreed with the street rat. "Stop playing your little games and get on with it!" I said impatiently. Jala glared at me. "You have the patience of a mouse, and the brain of one too," she snapped.

"You see, those two daughters…were me and Haillie," she said quietly. "Haillie was turned into a genie from an unknown source out in the woods when we were separated. She saved me from a pack of wolves by turning me into one too. Of course, after that, we were chained to our lamps and could no longer go back to our father. Through thousands of years, we have watched the wrong throneline rule Agrabah. We have no descendants, so that would mean that the oldest of the two of us would get the throne. And…Haillie's the older one."

My eyes bugged at her. This couldn't be happening. "The looney is the heir to the throne? When I've fought and corrupted and wished my way toward it for all but the whole of my life?" I roared at her. Jala looked surprised, but nodded weakly nonetheless. Haillie the Crazy was heir to the throne. Said Genie raised her hands up into the air, hugged the piece of lint, and let out a long "yippee" and a "woot". "Who's good? Who's good? BOW DOWN TO HAILLIE ON ONE KNEE, ALL OF YOU!" she cried happily. I wanted to believe that this was all a bad dream for the first time in my life.

"But…that can't happen. Genies can't have children," I said, clinging to one last hope. Jala shrugged. "We're immortal. We don't need children." "But the throne has passed from mother to daughter, father to son for as long as Agrabah has been here!" Aladdin protested. "It wouldn't be right for Haillie to hog the throne for eternity! She's-" He cut himself off abruptly and looked at the floor, embarrassed. "What, you mean she's special?" Jala challenged. "Well, I say that Haillie's the best Sultana this land will ever have!" I could tell she was trying to convince herself of that too.

I opened my mouth to argue.

"Jala, be reasonable. Everybody in this room knows that Haillie can't rule." Jala looked outraged, so outraged that she nearly turned Haillie's shade of violent hot pink. "Oh yes, it's just like you to put her down, Jafar! You're…you're…you're inhumane. You're like a calculator with a twisted, stupid, dark heart!" Normally, I would have been quite proud to say that and instantly reply with a drawling comeback. Not today.

Her words pierced me through like daggers. I felt hurt. It was a feeling, like happiness, that I very rarely experienced and I didn't like one little bit. Jala was panting, still shooting a look hot as fire pokers at me, and the rest of the company sitting in my chambers were looking rather uncomfortable to be witnessing this.

"Nice of you to say," I forced myself to reply calmly to Jala's accusations. "Now, shall I remind you who the master is here, and who is the genie?" Jala turned so beet red at this that I was afraid for her safety. At that temperature, she could very well explode. "You…you're-IMPOSSIBLE!" she sputtered, turning an unattractive shade of puce. One part of me smiled slyly in contempt. The other half cringed back from the pain in her voice.

"Alright, so be it," said a voice. It seemed very far away, and it took me a very long time to realize that it was my own.

A/N: The problem was how Haillie could possibly be in line for the throne if she was thousands of years old. Please review, I tried to make it longer and it is. I'm not sure about the quality though.