The next few weeks seemed to slug by. While the palace started running normally again, there was still an underlying sense of confusion, as if everyone was walking through a fog and the only thing pushing them forward was muscle memory. The rooms were cold, the hallways were draped in darkness, and the hustle and bustle of palace life never seemed to return. In its place was a silence so deafening that the only thing that filled the air was tension. Servants communicated with each other no longer through words but through knowing glances and understanding eyes. The only remains of life and activity were the new guards Jafar had hired; however, they acted more like animals than protectors. Although they spent most of their time outside, their juvenile conversations would rumble through the palace late at night, serving as a constant reminder of the change that had been forced over everyone. Although Jafar mostly kept a calm air and a low, monotone voice, little hints of his paranoia would crop up every now and then. He had placed two guards below the balcony of the room he shared with Jasmine, thwarting all possible attempts for her escaping. He knew that she would never put her father's life in danger by running away, but just in case that spirit of hers became unbridled he didn't want to take any chances. He spent most of his time alone in his sanctuary, a secret room hidden behind a palace wall. Before his triumph, he had spent many nights there learning the darkest and most powerful forms of magic and creating plans for his conquest; however, now this room served a different purpose, to hide him away. Although Jafar was strong and intelligent, he was fearful. He knew that forcefully taking over a kingdom would breed him many enemies, and he did not want to give anyone the chance of becoming too familiar with him, so he purposely distanced himself. He would spend most days tucked away in his hideout creating plans for successfully taking over nations. As strong as he was, he always had a weakness for power. He had accepted this flaw years ago, and was quite comfortable with it, for what good is a man who has no power?

Today proved to be just like every other day. Jafar was intently sitting at a desk in his hideout that was drenched in endless piles of maps and books. One hand rested on his knee while the other held his slender chin. Staring off at the corner of the room, he began twirling his beard. Before he could control it, his mind floated to Jasmine, and for the first time, he noticed that she had been rather docile these past few weeks. The first few days were a trial to say the least, and he had expected that, but why did she calm down so quickly? He began an inner dialogue with himself,

I know that she has more spirit than what she has demonstrated. Why did she only fight me for two days? I couldn't have broken her down that quickly...but she has ceased fighting with me, or screaming even when I come to her at night...she doesn't resist...it is apparent that she does not want it, but still she doesn't resist...is she plotting against me?

To his surprise, Jafar's heart began to beat slightly quicker. Was he afraid of what she might be capable of? He had anticipated resistance from the palace and even the citizens of Agrabah and had prepared himself to have to squash anyone who dared to challenge him, but the thought of being taken down by a princess had never crossed his mind until now. Jafar then had an affirmation. From the day he took his rightful place on the throne, a small part of his mind had been consistently occupied by one person...Jasmine. Was she his new weakness? Did wanting her so severely open him up to possible danger?

There is no plausible reason for her submission, something must be stirring in that mind of hers.

Jafar knew he must fully possess her if he were to keep himself safe. But how? Beating defiance out of her only seemed to make her quiet and reclusive. He kept her for a reason, to make her a queen. She was the only one worthy of that role. But he did not want a mute drone for his queen. Although she had frustrated him through the years, he loved her spirit and defiant nature. But was there a way to bring that out of her without her being a danger to him?

Suddenly an idea sparked in his mind and he sat up straight. A devious smile stretched across his face and his eyes lit up as he reached his boney hand toward the lamp.
_

Jasmine was leaning over the balcony watching the guards wrestle each other like crude boys. They disgusted her with the way they incessantly carried on. It didn't help that every time one of them noticed her she could see the lust in their eyes. The previous guards would never dream of treating her like that. These men were not honorable or even protection...they were animals. Frustrated, Jasmine leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes as the warm sun washed over her bare stomach. Her bruises and scratches had healed with time, and once they had, Jafar did not waste a moment forcing her to wear clothes that were almost too revealing for a woman of the harem. She let out a sigh as she thought about how much she hated her life. With each day that dragged on, she felt herself slowly sinking farther and farther down into a pit of quick sand. She was only allowed to see her father once a week with Jafar in the room, usually at dinner. She missed him so deeply.

Her mind then traced back to before the takeover. Remembering how angry she used to become at her father for not letting her leave the palace made her let out a small laugh. She found it amusing that she used to feel like a caged bird. How naive of her. THIS was true captivity. She had no friends, barely saw her father, and was beginning to truly doubt that Aladdin was alive. The only one she did see on a regular basis was Jafar, regretfully so. She had begun to hate the night. Every time he touched her she felt the life being sucked from her, as if she was shriveling up and away. The only thing she was relieved about was that he had not physically harmed her since the second night, but at what cost? Although she made it clear that she hated his touch, it was still torture to morph into a lifeless doll every night.

A sudden surge of anger rose up in her chest and she slammed the side of her fist against the marble wall. She now felt that her spirit had betrayed her. For weeks she had just stood by in silence as the vilest man in the world destroyed her kingdom and herself, and all because she was afraid that he might injure her too greatly. Would that really be much worse than her current life? No. She had to do something. She had wasted enough time sitting by idly. Feeling the old familiar streak of defiance, Jasmine jolted toward the door and took off down the hallway to look for her father. She knew that she was instructed not to go looking for him, but she no longer cared. She needed to feel even the smallest amount of love before her heart died completely, and her father could provide that for her.

After an hour of searching she had come up empty handed. Most of the rooms in the palace were locked and she had failed in her mission. Frustrated and depressed she found a bench in the corner of the hallway and plopped down. Crossing her arms she pouted like a child. Her mind began to contemplate her next move when she suddenly heard a voice.

"But I can t make anybody fall in love."

She had never heard the voice before. Although the voice sounded concerned, it carried with it a sound of kindness.

"Don't talk back to me you big blue lout! You will do what I order you to do slave!"

Jasmine cringed at the second voice. She knew immediately from the angry and evil tone that it was Jafar who was speaking.

"Geeze, what is it with this girl? My last master wanted the same-"

"You dare mention that twit Aladdin in my presence?"

Jasmine gasped at the sound of his name and ran to the wall where the voices were coming from and pressed her ear against the door.

"I am your master now! Now do as I say!"

There was a pause.

"Um...Master I can t make her, or anyone fall in love with you. It is beyond my powers. No words or demands can change that."

The sound of something being thrown and footsteps swiftly stepping toward the wall made Jasmine jolt up and run to hide behind a large curtain that was draped along the hallway. Peering through a hole in the drape, her eyes widened as the wall slid open to reveal Jafar. He peaked back and forth, as if to make sure that no one was witnessing, and then quickly stepped out and slid the wall shut. He began walking directly toward the drape and Jasmine held her breath. Right as he was about to run into her, he tossed the drape out of his way, nearly grazing her leg, and continued huffing down the hallway.

Relieved, Jasmine released her breath. She waited a few moments to make sure that he was far away from her now, and lightly tiptoed toward the wall. Placing her hand against the door she slowly pushed it open, taking extra care to not cause too much noise. As she quietly closed the door, her mouth dropped at what was inside. To her surprise, there was an entire room hidden behind the wall. Slowly she walked around taking in the scene. Rows of books filled the walls and several weapons were piled in the back corner. She stopped at the desk and put her hand on the back of the chair that sat in front of it. It was still warm from Jafar. She carefully fingered the papers on the table. Her heart began to sink as she read her husband's plans for the kingdom. Right when she was about to set the papers down where they belonged she noticed a small compartment that was so subtle she was surprised she even noticed it. Setting the papers to the side, she ran her fingers over the compartment until she found a crack large enough to open it. The nook contained only a small scroll. Picking it up and unrolling it, she whispered the words aloud as she read.

"Legend of a genie...?" She raised her eyebrow out of curiosity and continued reading. When she finished, she lowered the scroll and looked around.

"Why would he have this? And why would it be hidden? It s just a legend, a story. It can t be possible..."

"Nothing is impossible" came a voice from across the room, startling Jasmine. Immediately she recognized it as the voice she just heard earlier. Quickly looking up, she traced the voice to a corner of the room where the book shelves came to an end. Her eyes widened at the shock of what stood before her. It had the face of a man, but was blue and seemed to have a tail instead of legs.

"Who who are you?" stumbled Jasmine.

"It doesn't matter anymore, not as long as my master is still around" he said sadly with his head down. Jasmine took a small step toward him. Raising his head, his kind eyes smiled at her.

"But I know who you are."

"You do?" she said, leaning her head to the side.

"Oh yes! Almost every word out of Al's mouth was about you. He was right, words don't do you justice."

"Al?"

"Yeah, you know, your lover boy, Aladdin."

She gasped, "You know Aladdin?" and before she could control herself she ran over to him.

"Is he alive? Tell me he is alive! Please! I beg you, tell me where he is! I need to get to him! The most terrible things have been happening! Jafar has-" she paused, clasping her hands together in front of her mouth. Suddenly, she was flooded with realizations.

"Wait...master. You said your master, who is your master?" she stared at him innocently. He looked down in shame. "It's him isn't it? Jafar, he's your master."

"I can't help it. If only Al would've held onto my lamp."

"Your lamp?"

Genie nodded and looked over to the left. Jasmine followed his eyes until she saw the lamp sitting alone on a small table in the corner. She looked back over to the Genie.

"You really are a genie?"

"Afraid so."

"And you grant people any wish they want?"

"Well, almost any wish. There are a few exceptions."

The Genie stopped himself from continuing because he noticed that she was no longer listening. Her eyes were fixated on the lamp. Clenching her fists at her sides she slowly stepped toward the table. Taking a deep breath she reached her hand out, and right before her finger could brush against the cold metal she heard a loud slam.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" shrieked Jafar as he threw open the door. Jasmine jumped back in shock.

"Get away from that! How did you even get in here?" he screamed, barreling toward her. Jafar was tossing tables and pushing over chairs to get to her faster and Jasmine, filled with more fear than ever before, was backing up as quickly as possible.

"Jafar, please! I didn't mean to-" and before she could finish her sentence he had reached her and slapped her mightily across the face, throwing her into the wall. Jasmine stumbled to standing only to be grabbed by the arm and thrown into a book shelf.

"No! Please stop!" she begged through tears, but her words were not heard. Jafar's eyes were glowing with more rage than she had ever seen before, so much that he looked insane. He pulled her up and backhanded her again.

"Master, I-"

"Shut up! This does not concern you, slave!" Jafar spat at the Genie, causing him to shrink down into the corner out of fear.

"You have gone too far!" he screamed at Jasmine, and in a flash, her wrists were clasped in shackles to a chain attached to the ceiling. Stunned, afraid, and confused, she pulled helplessly in an attempt to break free. Suddenly, a whip appeared in Jafar's hand, and to Jasmine's horror, he reared back and struck her violently.

"How dare you enter MY corridor!" he fumed, whipping her swiftly. His speed increased with each word and Jasmine cried out as pain raced through her back.

"I should kill you for this! Who do you think you are? Didn't daddy ever teach you that it is not proper to touch what does not belong to you!"

Jafar threw the whip around with such force that sweat was pooling on his forehead. Finally, after many minutes, he saw Jasmine's body slump down, only supported by the shackles. Still breathing heavily, he dropped the whip and walked around her and held up her chin to his face. Her eyes were closed and her cries came in short muffles; she was on the brink of unconsciousness.

"You fooled me, Jasmine," he whispered to her in a low tone, "I was beginning to think that you had finally understood things, but you have showed me that I was wrong. I hate being wrong."

He grabbed the chain, pulled her into him, and dug his fingers into her bleeding back, causing her to shriek. She opened her eyes from the sudden pain and met his glance. His eyes were menacing and his face held a smile of sadistic pleasure.

"I hope this has taught you your lesson."

When he released her, the shackles disappeared and she crumbled to the floor. Jafar stepped over her curled up body and walked calmly to the door, swiping up the lamp on his way out. Right before he crossed the threshold he turned around and said with an imperative, low tone,

"Jasmine, if you insist on acting with the desperation of a slave, you will be treated like one...remember that."

And with that he was gone, leaving her alone, gasping for air until she fell into blackness.