Aladdin was gone, and the kingdom hinged on her decision–her choice was clear. She could not bring herself to betray Aladdin so openly, but could she betray all of Agrabah instead? She was a Princess, Aladdin knew that from the start; she had a responsibility to care for her people, love came second. Aladdin would understand why she had to go–if he were not already dead.

Jasmine shuddered each time she thought that terrible word. She refused to believe it, but it was true, she had watched him die with her own eyes. She recalled remorsefully the day she watched him sail out of port in search of new lands and adventures. She stayed behind with Carpet, Genie, and Iago, waving to him has his ship pulled away from the dock, Abu on his shoulders. They waved until they could no longer make him out from the rest of the ship. The explosion was unexpected, to say the least. The gun powder imported from the east must have exploded was the conclusion later; when the ship exploded though, Jasmine and Carpet were there immediately, Genie and Iago right behind them. There was smoke everywhere, limiting visibility, but by the time it cleared, they realized they were too late. Neither Aladdin nor Abu were among the floating bodies of the crew. Genie searched for them under the water, but he turned up nothing. It was decided later that after being thrown from the ship, they must have drowned. Jasmine ordered that they be found, and the last she knew all the fishermen that lived in the area were still looking... For her own solace, she believed the possibility that he and Abu escaped somehow–if a street rat could love a princess, then a man can escape a sinking ship–this was her logic.

She did not remember how or when, but she returned to her father in Agrabah. Somehow everyone in the city knew of Aladdin’s death, but Jasmine ignored their stares full of pity. She was a princess, and she was beginning to believe that princesses were not made for such things as happiness and love. Her friends tried to comfort her–and in doing so comfort themselves–but it was to no avail. Their company just caused more pain.

When Mozenrath came, Jasmine was willing to place the blame on him. But soon she realized that he had no part in it. Mozenrath wanted what Jasmine already had–Agrabah. Before it was Aladdin and Genie who stood in the man’s deadly wrath, but when the evil wizard found that he was dead, Agrabah was his for the taking. It was left to Jasmine to stop him. She was no match for him physically, and it was too dangerous for her to cross Genie’s magic with Mozenrath’s gauntlet. In the end, she offered a compromise, and surprisingly, Mozenrath accepted. In exchange for Agrabah, Jasmine would give herself as his bride.

She did not bother to tell her father, or her friends for that matter, for she knew they would not let her go. They would never understand the terrible choice she had to make. She left for the Land of the Black Sands the second night following her decision. She had no qualms anymore about running away, for she had done it enough, and this time was for a cause. She was quiet enough to not even disturb Rajah from his slumber. From her balcony, she and Carpet flew from Agrabah to meet with her new fate.

***

Mozenrath was waiting when they reached the Citadel, Xerxes by his side. He had a look of cold contempt on his face, almost as though he pitied her for what she was doing. Xerxes meanwhile was smug; it immediately went to bother Carpet as soon as Jasmine’s feet met the sand, but the rug shied away.

“Princess Jasmine, how good of you to come,” Mozenrath greeted her dryly. He looked her over critically, observing her black clothes. “I see you're dressed for the occasion.”

She glared at him, her temper flaring. She hated him, and at that moment she could think of no real reason why she should stay. “I'm not here to subject myself to you, Mozenrath. If it’s a fight you want, come and get it,” she threatened.

“Oh? On the contrary, Princess, you are here to subject yourself to me.” He glanced at the flying eel as it circled his head. “What was that agreement again, Xerxes?”

“Princess for City,” Xerxes hissed the reply with a diabolic snicker.

She drew her self up arrogantly. “Aladdin will come for me, once he finds out what...”

“Aladdin’s dead!” he sneered. Jasmine hung her head at the biting truth of his words. “Aladdin is dead, and you promised yourself to me. Stay true to your words Princess, or I will keep mine!”

Her heart grew heavy. “You win, Mozenrath,” she said at last.

He smirked openly at her submission. With a flare of his cape, he turned to lead her into the Citadel, Carpet and Xerxes following close behind.

***

The laboratory was void of activity, save for Mozenrath, but he too was still as he stood, gazing out a window in thought. The princess was acting strangely, and he pondered at this. Finally, he concluded her behaviour was the result of her beloved Aladdin’s death. His gloat was more of a sneer at the fact that his one mortal enemy was dead, and the other was going mad. It was still almost too good to be true, as though this was handed to him on a silver platter, a thing the sorcerer was not used to. Something was not right. He decided it still was not safe enough to let down his guard...

“Master?” Xerxes’s slithering voice came out of nowhere. Mozenrath looked back at the eel in disgust, raising his gloved right hand to exact punishment on it for interrupting his thoughts. “Princess waits...”

Mozenrath smiled to himself, letting go of his anger. In the month since she came, the Princess had barely spoke to him, and when she did, she was curt. In the eyes of his law, the union was legal, though it had yet to be consummated. Perhaps tonight things would be different between them. He turned away from the window, giving a throaty chuckle. It was a shame the Princess did not know the riff-raff within his dungeon.

***

Jasmine sat pensively on a short bench by the window, playing with the skirt of her lavender gown. Sighing restlessly, she rose violently from the chair, and began pacing the room. The lavish decour of the bedchamber still amazed her–she thought that everything in the Land of the Black Sands was as hostile as its unfeeling master. Yet the master’s bedroom was extravagant to the point of beautiful. The lighting, the furniture, the bed–it was all so soft, such a harsh contrast.

She pulled her thoughts away, returning to her own problem. At that very moment, as far as she could see, she only had one problem, and that was Mozenrath. All she needed to do was escape, return to Agrabah, and live happily ever after–that was where she began encountering planning troubles. In frustration, she threw herself onto the large, soft bed, her loose long raven hair spread under her.

Jasmine sighed. “Oh Aladdin... I miss you...” she said to the ceiling. “I need you now more than ever.” The ceiling did not respond, but she was not really expecting it to.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember his face. She saw his lopsided smile, and his mussed hair. But his eyes held anger, such a one that she had never seen before, enraged at her for betraying him. She listened to the room’s silence, hoping she could remember his voice. After a moment, she could hear him, but he spoke only harsh words for her unfaithfulness towards Agrabah.

Gritting her teeth together, she clamped her hands over her ears to block out Aladdin’s brutality from the beyond. “Stop it!” she cried aloud.

“Stop what, Princess?” A different voice asked of her, bringing her back to where she was. She removed her hands, and sat up, slowly turning to see the voice’s owner. Mozenrath, lingering by the door, had come in so unexpected and quietly. He sounded almost concerned, but all Jasmine wanted to see was the same insolent look he always had.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered stiffly, embarrassed that he caught her at the wrong moment.

Mozenrath’s face contorted into a disdainful leer. “Not tonight, Princess. You are mine.” He languidly advanced towards the bed. Jasmine’s eyes grew wide with fear, and she hastily stood, backing away. Mozenrath licked his lips nervously. “don't try and get away. This has been put off long enough.” Upon approach, he roughly grabbed her arm with his gloved right hand; she immediately tried to wrestle away from his grasp, but he was stronger. With his left hand he gently traced his finger along the length of her face, gazing longingly into her eyes. With a low callous chuckle, he brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

At first she did not resist. She did not know why, but she almost wanted him to fill the void. But when she realized what was happening, she pulled away. “I can't!” Wresting herself entirely from his grasp, she rose and strode to the window.

She felt his eyes on her back, radiating in fury. “I know what your problem is, Princess. You want what you can't have,” Mozenrath told her venomously. Jasmine tried to ignore his words, but failed; still she did not face him. “Get over it. He is dead! You are as alone as I am!” He hesitated. Watching her reflection in the dark window, she locked her jaw in preparation of what he would do next. “You don't want to live your life in your own misery,” he continued softly. “I am offering a chance to change that, but if you won't accept it, then you will be as wretched as me.”

Reflected in the window, Jasmine regarded him as he moved to leave the room. Yet, his words struck a chord of truth–under what she thought was inhuman lust was buried a mere man, as fragile as she. She turned away from the window just as he reached the door. “Mozenrath...” she began, choking on her words. “I'm sorry... I promised myself to you. I won't back down on my word now...”

***

Xerxes slithered away from the master’s chambers. It felt only a twinge of jealousy, but it was always content when Mozenrath was satisfied. It snickered to itself–the Master would lay the real surprise in the morning.

***

Mozenrath was feeling rather facetious after he arose the next morning. He felt almost as though the sun was shining directly on him–if the sun ever shone in his dark kingdom. The Princess must have worked some of her Genie’s magic on him, he thought. Only, she did not know where her big blue friend was, but he did–he would have smiled to himself at this, if he were not already doing so.

The morning progressed; eventually, as he had requested, the Princess joined him in his lab. “Jasmine, so good of you to come,” he greeted when she arrived. As was her custom, Jasmine glared at Mozenrath, but he could almost detect a softening behind the hardness of her eyes. It was most likely a result of the lighting, he concluded a moment later, for he sat working at his black wooden table while she lingered in the door. “Please, my dearest,” he still said the words with some contempt, “come in; I'll show you my life’s work, if you wish. No use hiding it from you now.”

Obediently, Jasmine went to his side. She peered with sudden curiosity over him at the book he was busy reading–he could almost hear her thoughts. He slammed the book closed abruptly, and stood, walking away from his table, to his window. “I was only looking,” Jasmine protested arrogantly. “You said you wouldn't hide it from me,” she added, throwing his words back at him. “I thought...”

“I know what I said,” Mozenrath interrupted shortly. “And I know what you were thinking–you’re thinking you can still get away. After all that...” He stopped, looking for his words. “After last night...”

Jasmine snorted in indignation, her eyes narrowing again. “I trusted you last night. You can't trust me now?”

“I waited a month for your 'trust!’” he roared.

“I made a promise, and I kept that promise!” She cried back. “I gave up everything I loved, for you and one night of your pleasure!” She added softly, “I knew better than to listen to you... I thought that maybe you were human after all, but Aladdin was right all along. you're a monster.”

Mozenrath raised an eyebrow. “A monster? Is that all that I am?” He began to raise his gloved fist. “I'll show you how monstrous I can be!”

A noticeable change overcame the Princess as she cowered at his words. “No!” her voice was barely a whisper, as though she were lost in her own thoughts. Mozenrath stared, his fist frozen in midair, as Jasmine gaped at a dim corner behind him. “Aladdin! Save me!” she whispered to it; Mozenrath did not have to look to know that there was no one there.

“Princess?” he did not intend to let concern escape him.

She refocused her attention onto him, but he sensed that she did not see. “You lied! My father trusted you, but it was all lies! You violated my father, and you broke me...” Sobbing, she sank to the floor. “How can Aladdin love a poor, broken Princess? You broke me... It can never be undone...”

Mozenrath strode across the lab to her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her up. “Jasmine!” he commanded.

“Let go of me Jafar!” Jasmine spat.

She tried to pull away, but he instead tightened his grip, though careful not to bruise her. “Listen to me! I am not Jafar–he is dead. Nor am I Aladdin.” She looked away, but he kept his gaze steady. “You are mad,” Mozenrath sneered evenly. Without knowing why, he brushed his lips to hers.

Sharply, she turned back to him. “Why do you keep doing that, Mozenrath?” Jasmine seemed nearly her old self, though she continued to weep.

He gave a fleeting smile. “Even in your madness...” Mozenrath chuckled. His ungloved left hand traced her cheek. “You were wonderful last night. It was worth the month for that surprise.” He let go of her, but Jasmine did not stray far from him. “I have a surprise for you, Princess. I suppose you have gained enough of my trust that I can give it to you–call it a belated wedding present, if you want.”

***

Xerxes was harassing Carpet in the throne room–since the arrival of the rug and the Princess, Carpet only rarely left the throne room, largely due to implied but unspoken threats made by the Citadel’s obdurate master. This meant however that whenever the flying eel had the urge to molest someone–or something–it could find Carpet easily–and this was quite often with the master’s current preoccupation.

The room’s heavily carved wooden doors were unexpectedly flung open. The evil master stood in the doorway, the Princess behind him. He commanded Xerxes and Carpet to follow him, and he led them to the depths of the Citadel.

***

Iago was enraged. He had been stuck on the same perch in the same cage in the same dungeon for about a month now–and to make matters worse, he was stuck with only the Genie as company. He berated the absent Princess–verbally, loudly, and regularly–for getting them into the mess–if she had not run off to battle Mozenrath, they would all be fine, safe at home in Agrabah. But no, the Princess could never let anyone else do her dirty work. Of course, once she was gone, and every realized what had happened, Genie and Iago just had go and save her. It was all too much for him to bear, and at this point, his voice was even getting to him during his quotidian tirades.

He did not let up thinking there was a way out of this disaster–if he only had Abu’s lock picks... Whenever he thought of the monkey or the kid, he would remember his real source of aggravation was in their own absence. He could never in fact break his façade and actually tell the Genie, but Iago knew that he knew, for they were all at odds ever since the incident.

And so there they were, a pair of lousy “heroes,” Iago in his wrought iron cage, Genie chain to the wall like a common thief in anti-magic shackles. The dungeon was dark and foreboding–“a pleasant contrast to the soft decour of the Citadel,” as Iago at one point remarked wryly–and there they lost track of all time. He was almost certain that time had ceased to exist down there, if it were not for the mamlucks that brought him food regularly.

Iago was on the verge of another tirade when they heard what they assumed to be breakfast on its way. It was a louder than normal clatter, but it was enough to quiet the bird before he could start. As the racket drew nearer to their cell, they saw a soft glowing torch.

“They always have light,” Iago groused under his breath. “What is it with them and their light? They don't need light–they’re dead. They need to get over it.”

“Quiet, bird-man!” Genie hushed from the wall. “That’s not their normal light...” They listened for a moment; Mozenrath’s encroaching voice was clearly audible. “Another visit from Wonder-Wizard,” Genie said drolly.

“Oh great,” Iago retorted. “I'll bet he'll have Wonder-Worm with him.”

Mozenrath was in mid-conversation as he reached the cell, stopping in front of it. “This, my dearest, I believe belongs to you now,” he told whoever followed him in the shadows outside of the torch held high in his hands. The person stepped forward to the bars of the cell.

“Jasmine!” Genie and Iago cried in unison.

She squinted into the darkness. “Genie? And Iago! What are you doing here?” She wrapped her hands around the bars, and leaned into them, as if to see the two more clearly. Behind her, Iago could see the Carpet’s woven design, and Xerxes’ gray scales.

“Jas, beware of Mozenrath, it’s a trap!” Genie warned futilely.

“Good call,” remarked Iago dryly.

The Princess turned to the Wizard. “Let me in, I want to talk to them,” she commanded.

Mozenrath complied instantly; he released the lock with the raising of his gloved hand. There was a faint click, and the cell door swung open. They entered, followed by Carpet, and Xerxes, filling the cell with the most light that Genie and Iago had known for a while. They shielded their eyes from the blindness, and once they could see again, Iago was ready to discuss with the Princess why she was there...

***

Jasmine was incredulous, gazing at Iago and the Genie. “This is it? You lied to me all this time!”

Mozenrath shrugged. “You were expecting more?”

“You trusted this creep?” Iago demanded of her, echoing his sentiment.

Jasmine shot the bird a quieting glare; obediently, he shrunk back, muttering apologies. “Free them now, Mozenrath,” she ordered between clenched teeth.

“So you're trusting him again,” the bird continued.

Mozenrath ignored his statement has he unlocked his cage. He proceeded then in unlocking Genie’s shackles. “If you so much have laid one hand on her, I'll...” Genie warned during his release.

“And you'll what?” Mozenrath prodded, as the shackle swung free. Genie was ready, following up his threat with an array of weapons pointed at the Wizard. Without delay, and a flick of his gauntlet, he erased the weaponry from sight. “It may surprise you, but I didn't do anything to the Princess that she didn't agree with.”

Jasmine remained where she stood, watching the entire exchange solemnly. She could not believe any of what she saw–nor could she comprehend it. Even afterwards, she would always be at a lost for words to describe what went through her mind–it raced and was numb all at once was the best she could come. Her words were clear though. “I didn't agree to any of this,” she said calmly. “This...” She gestured vaguely, “These lies.”

Mozenrath turned to scowl at her. “Lies? Was last night a lie too?”

Jasmine paid no to heed to him. “Nothing is what it seems anymore,” she brooded.

“Seems?” he roared. “Nothing is ever what it seems. Did you forget what your street rat taught you already?”

His words seem to strike at her, but she could not be certain. She did not understand why she was suddenly so weary–she need time to think, but she did not know about what. Nervously, she brought her hands to her head. “I don't know!” she cried. The others, she noticed detachedly, were startled at her behaviour. She regarded Mozenrath–he had a curl that always stuck out from under his turban, and it served as a painful reminder of Aladdin. She told herself she must not think such thoughts. It was Mozenrath who had once wanted to kill Aladdin. Slowly, it dawned on her that at that moment, Mozenrath was as vulnerable to her as she to him. Deliberately, she shifted towards him.

Jasmine later could not recall the blow, but the one had delivered must have been hard, for the next thing she remembered, Mozenrath was on the floor, and she was being restrained by Carpet. Mozenrath was in a pair of his own anti-magic shackles, and Iago and Genie were talking to him. “Let me at him, I'll kill him,” she whispered fiercely.

Mozenrath’s eyes went wide with fear, but Carpet’s hold was relentless. His dread turned to visible disdain. “You are mad,” he said again. “I have no need for a madwoman.” He let his voice drop to something near humbleness. “You can go. All of you. Leave me now.”

Jasmine was confused, a thousand questions springing to her mind now. “But what about...?”

He sneered. “I can't harm you precious Agrabah chained up. And... you kept your end of the bargain...”

“don't listen to him, Jasmine,” Iago warned.

She shook her head. “He’s right Iago. He won't harm us, not after...” Cautiously, Carpet let her free. She stood, walking to the cell door. “Let’s go.”

Iago and Carpet trailed behind her, but Genie gave one last furtive glance at the downtrodden Wizard. “I'm keeping my eye on you...” He blinked his head into one eye, then followed the others. Xerxes and Mozenrath were speechless as the Princess and her entourage left the Citadel for good.

***

“I don't get it,” Iago complained. Some time had passed since the incident in the Land of the Black Sands. The ensuing life in Agrabah’s Palace had been for the most part peaceful. At that moment, Iago, Jasmine and Rajah were gathered in the Princess’ private apartment at the Palace. “What really happened back there?” The bird had no need to name his reference. He paused, thinking over his question. “Or do I not want to know?”

***

The Citadel was quiet once more, now that the Princess had gone. Mozenrath was free again to his own thoughts.

“It doesn't makes sense Xerxes!” He pounded his fist on the table, unable to concentrate on his work.

“Princess, Master?” the eel wheezed in reply.

“No, no, no, not that! That blasted street-rat of hers,” he said sullenly.

“Aladdin dead.”

Mozenrath sighed irritably. “I know. That’s the problem. It’s just too convenient.” He slammed his book shut with another sigh. “I'll just have to find him myself.”