A great big thank you to the person who read and reviewed the first chapter. :D I am so glad you like it. There is a lot more dialogue coming up, I hope you are ready for it.

I would also like to apologize for any faults in my English.

The Day

"Princess," he drawled. "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

There was a suspiciously swiping bow added to his words.

Compensating, she thought wryly, for forgetting to elaborate on formalities the other night.

"Grand Vizier." She stopped in her tracks. The princess hadn't used his title in years. She had never before avoided his name. A tiny smirk came to his face.

She had seen Jafar step out of his secret passage way, this had happened before. She knew where it was. She hadn't figured out how it worked yet, his secrets were safe.

Every morning for many years now he took this route to intercept the sultan on his way to breakfast for some crack of dawn hypnotizing. The human mind was most susceptible to magic during waking.

His plans were foiled this time before they had even begun.

The princess slept late, this had been her way since childhood. She had been too deeply invested in her own world to really notice him or her father. About a month ago her life style altered.

She must have noticed something in her father's conduct. Sometimes he changed radically after Jafar had a private word with him. No one else seemed to be disturbed by this for the sultan usually made more sense because of his trusted advisor's guidance. However she had grown mistrusting of him. Since then she had been rising early trying to beat Jafar to the punch and reach the sultan before he could. Sometimes they arrived together at his side. Together, strange concept to be thinking of with the princess. The word did put him in a better mood.

Jafar had to admit, especially after last night, that he felt oddly flattered by the princess's interest in him.

She hadn't slept much the other night and still here she was again. Eager to meet him. He had not expected her to rise this early. This personal pursuit must mean a lot to her.

This was a nuisance. Years he had spent gathering scraps of power. Such little bits every day. Always being careful to take the next small step. She threatened to put his plans in danger. Every day lost, a set back! The infuriating slowness of it.

The ground was getting hot quickly beneath his feet quite suddenly now. The princess was onto something.

He hated not living up to his full potential. He could lose everything. But a princess has no true power. If she would speak up, no one would hear her. No, not her, he was no fool. This princess would speak up and make sure she was heard. He would be thrown out of the place that took him a lifetime to achieve. Just now when the riches he had looked for were so close to coming into his grasp.

To think he had even defended the princess a couple of times on matters of state. She had been too caught up in the supposed injustices done to her by her father to notice. How he longed back for those days. When their mutual dislike was easily tempered by avoidance.

They found themselves up before anyone else. Alone in the room. As she had seen him too, by social convention they were supposed to talk. They ignored this for a while. They were understandably frustrated to see one another and both not keen on the idea of conversation on this ill met morning.

Jasmine saw a particularly nasty expression take form on his features.

"Is this by any chance about your concerns from last night?"

She stood for once in silence watching his curl pointed shoes, in anger. He had indeed hoped to intimidate her. Standing to his full height, fully dressed, staff in hand and Iago perched on his shoulder. A dramatic air of black and red about him.

When she looked up, she took her sweet time, he was met with a defiant look.

"Have no more suitors arrived?" She was clearly implementing him in her tone.

"None yet, princess. It is too early for that. I will let you know should any present themselves." His lips snarled, she could see how he despised this way of subservient living in how his mouth moved.

She looked just as annoyed as he was by now, she was not one to veil her dislike. He bet she couldn't do it if her life depended on it.

"Do not add to the number."

"Why princess," he said, spreading his cloak half about her. "I would never! Well that is to say, the thought just hadn't crossed my mind. "

Jasmine crossed her arms. His sickening smile was too close for comfort. At this moment Iago, having been exceptionally quiet and attentive piped up. "What is going on, Jafar, what?! You gotta tell me."

Jasmine was not surprised at Iago's coherent talk, she knew of his silly charade. She was used to him breaking the stupid parrot act.

"Iago, shush." The vizier smoothly stroked its beak shut. "The princess needs my comfort now." His protective arm clenched around her. "You can tell me all about those suppressed feelings you've been having."

She shook him off.

Undoubtedly by now she saw him as just another suitor to blow off. He would not let that happen.

She would not play her games with him.

Jafar's eyes turned to slits as he fixated them on her. "This is not good, Jafar, not good." Iago ruffled his feathers. As his unease by how the princess glaringly looked that them intensified, Iago started fretfully hopping in place.

"Jafar, you are a stranger here." She stepped forward, resolutely.

If he addressed this wrongly a stubborn hissy fit would be the least of his trouble. She would do much worse.

When she is serious she is beautiful. Her mouth small, her eyes large and her brows inquisitive. Her head slightly tilted. She only did this when there is more at stake

"I don't know the palace without you in it. I know no more about you than I have ever known. I inquired about you."

"Princess, I am humbled, you shouldn't have."

"You rule in all but name but I hear no complaints. No one objects. Your intentions are unknown." She paused. "To all but me.

Come on, Jafar, you know the easiest way to take power is if you marry me." There it was, that fake seductiveness of hers he had seen in her stance and heard purr in her voice before. She finally saw him as a threat. Should he feel elevated? No, she saw him as a stupid man. The smile faded from her face. She couldn't do it. This felt like the wrong way of dealing with him. He was almost relieved to see her acquit, for he knew he had no defense against her ravishing loveliness. He couldn't let his guard down now.

"If you can find it in your generous heart to forgive me for my morose behavior last night. I … did not expect you to show up in my bedroom. You trespassed decorum far for that little stunt."

The table was turned. Now she flushed.

"You once said that I am 'venomously pretty' within my earshot. It was an impulsive comment after a rather meaningless argument." His face moved to the sky at this and a faint huff in exasperation followed. "I bet you regretted that ever since." She looked at him unblinkingly.

Overly polite he replied: "Is this when I piqued your interest?"

The truth of the story was, however he infuriated her, she no longer hated him. Somewhere along the way she had forgotten to continue to hate him. Maybe this was part of so called 'growing up'. She had blamed the Vizier too long for the unchangeable restrictions that her royal blood enforced upon her. The unmovable man she delighted in throwing tantrums at. Someone she couldn't hurt in her ,more shallow, moments of anger.

"I imagine the desert is like you. It moves constantly to blind and confuse onlookers from who it is. When in fact it is but sand blowing over and the desert never sways."

"I am but who you see."

Further words would not come and he found he did not mind.

He could not recall the exact words even as she said them. There was only the shock of what she was saying and the odd unexpected feeling that despite her hostile manner and inflection she was not threatening him.

She had forced him, through her speech and paces, literally into a corner. It was masterful.

At so many points she could have told him the palace would do well without him. At so many points she could have threatened to see him banished. She wanted to, it would be easy. She took a restrained breath.

"Whatever you are doing, I will stop you, Jafar."

She had cornered him. He wondered again how that had happened. Had he walked so far back as she advanced?

His staff had left his hand. It stood, stable, against the wall, right within his grasp. He had loosened it because he had known subconsciously he would have no use of it. Hypnotizing the princess would be an impossible feat. She was too headstrong.

Iago had flown off in a panic at the approaching threat of her words. A real hero that one. Much like himself.

This happened somewhere during her speech. Jafar had hardly taken notice. Too caught up by the girl.

Her face was raised to him. She looked up unafraid.

He loomed over her, with great care his hands traced their path towards their desire.

Soft fingertips barely rested against her skin. His fanned out thin spindly fingers cradling her neck and cheeks. A kiss just as tender, omnipresent, overpowering in how it was almost not there.

He withdrew, his thin lips reluctant to leave hers.

He watched her eyes for a moment. Her bright brown eyes were open and awake as ever.

Then he slid to his left, cloak sweeping to the side. Erasing the moment, now definitively past. He left her fast and smooth.

"My liege," she heard him say, not bothering to turn and see her father. Jafar's signature voice dripping with oil.

She was dismissed. Just like that.

She ran away without looking, past her oblivious father who stumbled a rather forlorn "happy morning" to her. Betrayed. In what? Her trust of Jafar? No. Surely not.

She tarried by the door for a moment. She did not want to see him twisting his face in ways she did not like. Putting up his usual false image of a man. She did not like him. There was much about him she did not like.

To love him. That was possible even with such dislike. She turned on her heel.

She did not want to be here to hear him spill endless ingratiating words to her father.

"I see you have found Iago. Splendid. Oh. Well done." Jafar listened to the sultan jabber cheerfully on about his encounter with the bird. The bird caught firmly in the sultan's hands.

His just reward for flying off like that.

Any moment now he would start his excessive flattery to the old man.

Jafar watched the princess leave from the corners of his eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her, try as he may to make sense of her.

"She knows too much, Jafar, Jafar, listen to me." Iago tried in vain as the sultan tried to claim his attention with unwanted cookies.

Jafar's eyes had this usual look of lazy indulgence coated over them as so often when he looked upon Jasmine.

Later the Grand Vizier would banish her and those most gorgeous eyes looking back at him from his thoughts and focus on riding out that evening in search of fabled power and riches. Something far more reliable than a princess's whims.

End of the Day