"He's dead." Said the man on the chestnut gelding. "I can feel it in my soul." He steadied himself on the horse and breathed a sign of relief. Perhaps the first breath of his entire life that felt entirely unencumbered by sorrow or strife.

The man beside him smiled a little sadly. The sun sank in the Western skies, the vibrant colors casting themselves over the sands like a spilled ink pot. The ungodly heat was dying down, replacing the burn with a refreshing coolness. Most desert people did their traveling at night and slept during the harsh day. That's why he was heading off now.

The doors of Agrabah were opened but not for much longer. The city did not allow for travelers to arrive after dark. And given the recent troubles you could tell from a distance that the guards were only too eager to see the moon rise and the gates barred shut. Even feeling safe in the sure knowledge of Diriel's death, shadows were being watched with new eyes. One shadow in particular.

Mozenrath smiled a little sadly and checked his packs to make sure they were secure. He grimaced at the pain in his body, being careful not to tear the tight stitching. It hurt. Enough so that he probably shouldn't be taking off so quickly. Still, it was best to leave now, while people were busy repairing and recuperating. No one would notice his passing until he was beyond the horizon and far from Agrabah.

"You could wait a while." Aladdin said softly. "You're wounds need time to heal and be cared for." So much he wanted to say. So much that could not be said. Guards flanked them, escorting their sultan from the walls as was their duty. He could not say the tender words in his soul. Not right now. Not in front of them.

The necromancer sighed tenderly, his trained eyes reading the meaning behind the body language. "Genie gave me the stuff he used to seal it up. I'll be fine Aladdin. I'm a survivor. I always have been."

But you don't have to be. Aladdin tried to say with his eyes. If you really wanted too… And yet in a strange way he understood. He had been born a street rat. Lowest of the low and scorned by society. And yet his freedom had no bounds. He was a man unto himself. And now, with the man he wanted to have all to himself preparing to leave, Aladdin willed himself to stop being so selfish.

Mozenrath tried not to look directly at Aladdin. He knew if he did, if he let himself be captured by those wild hazel eyes, he'd stay. Aladdin didn't realize it yet, his heart hurt to much to see past that. But in time the hero-sultan would come to realize why he'd gone.

This could never happen.

Even if Mozenrath chose to stay, what would it mean for him? He'd be no more than a concubine. Even if Aladdin held him close at night and share their bodies like true lovers should he would still be no better than a harem man. When the other sultans began to send their second and third daughters and serving womens children Mozenrath knew he would be pushed even lower through politics. Aladdin would be forced to love him at night and scorn him at day. That would be the only way to maintain an outward appearance of control.

And even then, there would always be rumors. Mozenrath's history was firmly against him. There would always be talk. In council and court. People would always think that Mozenrath's mouth would hold sway in Aladdin's decisions. They would have no faith in their sultan, and no trust in him to keep his own mind. The same thing was bound to happen with Jasmine, but that was different. She was his wife and queen. A woman born and bred for rule. They might even expect her to take the larger load till Aladdin became accustomed to the weight.

But he was and always would be Mozenrath. Sorcerer of the Citadel, Lord of the Black Sands…

Enemy of Agrabah.

Aladdin did not put a hand on him. He wanted to. A parting kiss. A gentle stroke against his unconsummated lovers face to show genuine care. But the guards were there. Annoyingly there. And he could not make them leave.

Fool! Are you a sultan or not? They are your guards now make them leave!

The men's heads turned up, confused by their sultan's sudden and abrupt order. Leave? Leave him alone with this…this…

"I said for you to return to the city." Aladdin ordered again, turning his horse a little to see into their eyes. "The gates need secured. Assist with that and I will return promptly." He was not going to give them the chance for arguing. It was only when the gates hid their faces that he dismounted and turned to Mozenrath, trying to speak and finding his mouth ill prepared.

"Moze…"

"Aladdin…"

"We've picked a name." he said softly, unsure of himself right now and stalling just to speak to Mozenrath a while longer.

Mozenrath smiled. "Let me guess…Aladdin Jr.?" he said and they shared a chuckle over that.

"No. Jasmine was insistent on it." He looked pointedly at the sorcerer. "She's decided to name him Thenra."

Mozenrath arched an eyebrow. "Nice. Not to obviouse, still if one looked to closely at the letters…"

"Well we tried Mozen, Ozen, Zenrath, Rathen…" he waved his hand a little absently. "No offense but your name sounds wicked no matter how you rework it." He started to smile and realized suddenly just how closed Mozenrath had moved to him. Breath left his lungs and he felt compressed.

Mozenrath stopped him with a touch, his fingers placed lightly upon the man's firm lips. He took a kiss. Just this once. His kiss. It was not forced on him by other lips. He was not grabbed and made to be kissed. He pressed his own lips to Aladdin's and took his kiss. Warmth washed over him even past the coolness growing at dusk. He held onto Aladdin and let his body absorb this moment.

It was then that Aladdin understood. As their tongues caressed and their bodies held tightly he realized that Mozenrath was not coming back. He was leaving Agrabah and the Seven Deserts. Aladdin did not know how he could tell. But in his mind he could see clear blue waters and green fields of grass and grain. Mozenrath was going away from where one had to eek a living from sand and dirt. He was going somewhere alive.

Somewhere where Mozenrath could live.

"You are always welcome in my city Mozenrath." Aladdin said as their legs found their horses again. "Know that you are always welcome."

Mozenrath smiled, his lips burning with longing. "I know." He took the reigns in his hands and kick the horse into a light canter, taking him around for a moment to regain to feeling of riding. "And you know…" That I have no intention of coming back. Understand Aladdin. I want my freedom! I want to live just once for no one but myself. To be completely unbound by hate or man…or even by love.

He loved Aladdin. He knew that now. He loved him so completely and utterly his body was consumed with fire undying as they were so close. Mozenrath did not let himself cry now. What reason would there be in tears that would only weaken his resolve. This was his chance. His one chance to be a free man! And if he must sacrifice yet again for something, he was willing to do so.

"I know." Aladdin said and held back his own crying. He felt as if love, that special thing that is only supposed to come once in your life, was slipping through his fingers. And he was being forced to let it go.

Mozenrath smiled one last time at Aladdin, breathing, taking it in and still not wanting to meet his eyes. And yet as stars began to rise, the pale silver light of the moon appearing quickly in the sky, Mozenrath allowed himself to look up.

He spurred his horse away, the image of Aladdin's dark iris's fixated in his mind as his traveling cloak flared out behind him. The jarring footsteps of his gelding rattling his bones. Mozenrath felt sorrow and heartache clutch his chest. His muscles begged him to turn around, go back and be held and stroked. And yet his soul refused. It pushed his feet and kicked the horse harder. His spirit and strength breathed in the air of night. The sweet taste of true freedom.

Mozenrath sat straight in the saddle and called out with a scream of triumph and anguish. Behind him Aladdin's ears caught the tale on the wind and he let his eyes weep, the dark sky growing behind him. And in the midnight blue of the world, in the bed he shared with his wife and the room they kept together. He would remember Mozenrath, and know that in his heart of hearts, he loved them both.

And was loved in return.

Fin