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The thing to do, Mozenrath decided, was to confront Aladdin about this little problem directly. He was Lord of the Black Sands, the most promising young necromancer of his age! And he's never backed down from anything to do with Aladdin before.
And there Mozenrath stood with his legs and back straight, arms crossed over his chest imperiously, a wave of mowed-down palace guards behind him and the wonder-troupe in front of him, face to face with a righteously angry Aladdin and peeved princess, and suddenly he realized that maybe this really wasn't like anything to do with Aladdin before -
That never before had Aladdin's skin look so awfully, golden-ly beautifully-good before, with the fading sun behind him like a spotlight. That never before had his jaw been so strong and admirable, the muscles of his chest and arms look so dauntingly cut, his eyes so warm and welcoming.
Suddenly he realized that saying-
Aladdin, I think I love you.
was the single most idiotic thing he could possibly do.
So as an alternative, he shot a quick blow to Aladdin's stomach, sending him legs over ass into the sand, and pausing once to admire aforementioned ass, made a somewhat cowardly escape with a flourish of his cape.
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"Master mad at hero?" Xerxes questioned nervously. He had been a silent audience to his master's strange behavior for most of the day, watching as the young lord kicked out at furniture, pored obsessively through books vaguely labeled with the word 'love' and it's other versions, and held his face in his hand, all the while mumbling in various degrees of passion Aladdin's name.
Mozenrath looked through his fingers at his wiggly familiar, and sighed self-sufferingly.
"No, Xerxes, just frustrated."
Xerxes once again went against his sense of self-preservation and ventured to question further.
"Frustrated at what?"
Mozenrath shot him a sharp look of irritation.
"That Aladdin is being so unreceptive to a bit of information I'd like to communicate." he said shortly and mysteriously.
Only to have the mystery rudely intruded by yet another simpering question.
"What information?" Xerxes pushed.
Mozenrath groaned. Did he have to spell it out? If he said "That I love Aladdin" out loud he'd have to kill himself and Xerxes just to preserve dignity. He swatted the questioning eel out of the way, slumping forward on his desk refusing to rise from his misery.
"Princess like flowers..."
Mozenrath looked up peevishly, about to respond with just how small of an amount of a rat's ass he gave about what Princess Jasmine liked, when Xerxes continued-
"Maybe hero like flowers?"
Mozenrath snapped upright, peering at his familiar with a new interest and respect. Maybe Xerxes understood more than he let on. Xerxes, for his part, just seemed happy to have not earned another blow, and wiggled contentedly when Mozenrath's long fingers came behind his jaw, scratching his scaly hide.
"Maybe, Xerxes, maybe...."
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"This is terrible, who would do such a thing?"
Unknowable to the aghast princess and her friends, Mozenrath watched from his Citadel's magical-viewing-pool, hunched over the image displayed on the still, black waters, eager for his handiwork to be noticed and properly admired.
He watched as Aladdin too looked out at the devastated palace gardens. Miles and miles of plants, gone. The Sultan's private collection of rare and beautiful flora was now a waste of clipped and scorched stems, stretching out from all around them under the balcony on which they stood.
"I don't know Jas, this does seem kind of odd. Maybe Arbitus?" Aladdin offered with a puzzled expression.
"No," Jasmine replied, unaware of Mozenrath's nasty scoff ("Arbitus, that theme-addled freak show? Hardly") miles away. "Arbitus loves plants. He'd never destroy so many."
"It is a shame," Aladdin agreed with a frown.
Xerxes swam around Mozenrath's neck, watching as well, voicing his master's impatience as the hero and princess went to comfort the palace gardener and shocked Sultan.
"Maybe hero no notice?"
"Well he'll have to go home eventually, Xerxes." Mozenrath said condescendingly, but inside he too was worried. It seemed as if Aladdin was taking his little midnight actions the wrong way. This wasn't an act of aggression or malice, this was an act of--well,
love.
Finally, after hours of watching Aladdin putter around the palace with his friends and token arm candy, Mozenrath alternating between forced cool disinterest to bitterly watching every move of the perfect figures on the eerily glowing screen, it seemed Aladdin was finally making his way home. Mozenrath lifted from his seat, countenance hovering close enough to the water to dampen a loose bang, to get the best view of Aladdin' s reaction.
"Whoa."
Filled to the sagging ceiling, pushing against the old stone walls, flowers filled Aladdin's hovel. Every color imaginable, every shape, texture, and smell imaginable, in one dizzying display. Aladdin coughed, stumbling back down the steps as an impossible mix of pollen coughed up a curtain of yellow into his face. He kept coughing, water shinning in his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. Genie rushed up from the street to give his buddy a giant whallop on the back, which did absolutely nothing since he wasn't actually choking, but under the jinn's worried hands, Aladdin managed to get out,
"Go get Jasmine, I think I found her flowers."
Genie flew up quickly to observe for himself the jungle Aladdin' s home had turned into, before flying back down to salute a recovering Aladdin smartly.
"Good idea Al. If it's not too late, we can bundle them up and give them away before they start to die."
"Yeah, that's a good idea, Genie. I mean, what am I supposed to do with all these flowers anyway?"
A laugh shared between the two friends.
"Master.....angry?" Xerxes asked from his safe place under Mozenrath's chair, warily observing the white and cracked knuckles gripping the diving pool.
He wailed when Mozenrath threw the entire contraption over, cold water splashing nicely on his scales, though suffering to have his tail smashed by the crumbling stone.
"Yes Xerxes. Very."
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"You guys notice anything weird about Mozenrath the other day?"
Iago cocked open a lazy eye from where he was sunning himself in the palace bird bath.
"What's to notice? Junior psychopath strikes again. Same old, same old."
"But what did he want? I mean, he didn't take anything..." Aladdin persisted, unconvinced.
Genie swelled up with pride, throwing an arm around Aladdin's shoulder.
"That's because we're a impassable fortress of justice, pal, you and me!"
Abu gibbered indignantly and Carpet waved his tassels petulantly, all to the tune of 'What about us?'
Aladdin listened vaguely to Genie's humorous attempts to soothe his friend's egos, but inside he was thinking hard about Mozenrath, about the expression on his face. If he didn't know better, he'd say it didn't seem like Mozenrath had come to Agrabah to fight at all. The look on his face, present only for a small moment, was so open, and unsure, and uncomfortable, his mouth going to form some unspoken words before the curtain fell and his lips twisted into a sneer as he blasted Aladdin to the ground. It bothered him, trying to remember where he'd seen that same wanting look before....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It's no use," Mozenrath said into the palm holding his chain off of his table, moping into the darkness of his empty dining room.
Xerxes slithered under his master's chin sympathetically.
"Maybe master kill hero? No worry about anymore?"
"Well that kind of defeats the purpose." Mozenrath rejected flatly.
Xerxes screwed up his face hard in thought. His small, loyal brain just couldn't understand why the hero wouldn't love his Master. I mean, he was Master. Maybe Aladdin couldn't see that?
"I know I know," Xerxes said excitedly as a idea slithered into his brain, "Maybe make hero love you?"
For a brief moment visions of chains and various forceful paraphernalia flitted through Mozenrath's brain, before he waved his hand impatiently.
"No, no. This love business takes some measure of delicacy." He sighed. "A delicacy I don't seem to have knowledge of."
Master not know something? Xerxes wondered in his boggled mind.
A low laugh from nowhere shocked Xerxes into fleeing under Mozenrath's cape, though the sorcerer himself was quickly looking round with gauntlet ablaze searching for the source of the noise.
"Oh dearie me, no need for that ole' boy. I'm not here for trouble, or at least none of the violent sort."
Mozenrath's sharp eyes caught the faintest glimmer above the table as first a grin, then a face, then a body materialized out of the darkness.
"Chaos." He said with no small measure of displeasure.
The oddly colored feline wiggled his ears in acknowledgment.
"It's just that I can't help but gobble up the irony of a toady little familiar dishing out romantic advice."
Xerxes hissed from the safety of Mozenrath's clothes, eying the cat god's sharp teeth.
Mozenrath turned red in embarrassment, though he sat once more, at least knowing who he was dealing with.
"I don't suppose it would help to remind you that my business isn't exactly your business?"
Chaos flicked his tail right on the tip of the sorcerer's nose, daring him to swat it away.
"Everything is my business." He reminded darkly.
Mozenrath forced himself to not visibly show the fear he felt at being reminded of the power of Chaos, the ultimate force in the universe.
Chaos grinned good-naturedly, dropping his threatening demeanor as he turned upside down in the air in front of Mozenrath's face.
"Especially with such delicious business as this. A lovestruck sorcerer and a goody-goody hero as the object of his affections? Entertainment like this doesn't come 'round often."
"I'm glad to know my suffering is so amusing to you," Mozenrath said somewhat dramatically.
"Not amusing, just possessing just the right amount of chaos to get my tail a'tingling."
"It doesn't matter anyway, " Mozenrath dismissed, trying his best to ignore Chaos and failing, "It's not that anything will ever come of it. To make Aladdin understand my intent would require a level of obviousness I'm not willing to submit myself to."
The thought of rejection hit him like an unwanted blow, and he slunk down further into his arms, making vague plans to go destroy some of the older mamlucks to perk himself up when he felt the graveyard-cold breath of Chaos on his ear, the cat perched right on his shoulder.
"You know," the god-ling said with a grin, "they say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There must be something more we can do," Jasmine pleaded passionately.
Genie wiped the sweat off his brow, dressed like a Dustbowl Farmer. "Not much we can do, litlle lady, 'cept work the land till she gives up her bounty." To complete the picture, he spat a wad of something dark into the dirt, ignoring Iago's loud and sarcastic, "Oh charming, real charming blue-boy."
"Genie's right," Aladdin said, taking Jasmine's arm. "We're doing all we can. The water and food being handed out from the palace will do a lot of good, and Genie's working on seeing if he can't get the crops to come back." He squinted up at the sky, "What we really need is some rain."
Well that and more tolerable soil. About a month ago, the plants started dying off in Agrabah, the fruits, grains and vegetables the people came to depend upon shriveling up and staying gone. And with that setback, the animals were denied food, and so couldn't become food themselves. Tightening belts prevailed around the city, even in the palace were Jasmine demanded they eat less to give more out to the public.
"You guys go on and enjoy your little dinner, we've got it covered here." Genie said, interrupting Aladdin's train of thought.
Jasmine rolled her eyes, huffing with irritation.
"Why do we even have to go to this thing? I mean, dinner at Mozenrath's?"
Aladdin shrugged. "Well, he said it would be sort of like a peace-talk meeting. Or something."
Jasmine gave him a critical eye.
"And you believed him?"
Another shrug. "Not particularly, but I can handle Mozenrath if things do good bad," he said with a confidant grin, "Plus, he's sort of rich, so there's bound to be some good food at this dinner, right?" Yes, he agreed that it was important to cut back for the benefit of the city's poor, but it took some effort to ignore his aching stomach.
He laughed when Jasmine waved her arms incredulously, "My father's Sultan!"
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Down into the gloomy interior of the Citadel they were led, Aladdin's fingers going once or twice nervously to the lamp hidden on his belt. It wasn't as if he scared, necessarily, but it was just too weird, a formally dressed Mozenrath meeting them himself at his door with a group of actual-human attendants who took their cloaks and gestured them to follow.
Jasmine was tense, he could tell, but Aladdin again had the strong suspicion nothing particularly bad was going to happen tonight. Mozenrath just wasn't giving him a sense of strong antagonism. He was civil and coolly polite, even nodding his head in a slight bow as they entered.
To Aladdin's chagrin, Jasmine insisted they dress formal as well, though he suspected it was less out of decorum and more out of a competitive desire to appear sophisticated to the antagonistic sorcerer.. In her lavender gown, she certainly looked the part of future-Sultana. Aladdin was roped into wearing his white prince-Ali outfit once more, feeling stuffy outside of his normal street-wear.
They came to a stop at a deep and wide dining room, gleaming ebony tiles on the floor with a glowing candle-lit chandelier hovering above a rich, dark-wood table. Aladdin was impressed beside himself. Who knew the Citadel even had lights?
The servants departed, coinciding with the loud rap of Mozenrath's boots signifying his arrival to dinner. He sat at the head chain, of course, and motioned dismissively at the pair to find seats.
"Evening, Aladdin. Princess."
Jasmine's teeth grit at his tone, which never failed to irk her.
"I have a name, you know, Mozenrath, besides my title."
"Of course," he answered smoothly. "Jasmine. What a fitting name, for such a delicate flower such as yourself."
Aladdin sensed the danger in the man's sarcasm, and interceded.
"You said something about the possibility of a treaty with Agrabah?"
Mozenrath smiled a small smile. "Direct as usual, Aladdin, but please, let us at least enjoy a meal before moving on to more serious matters."
Jasmine couldn't help but look at the shinning, yet obviously empty silver platters in front of her, with no sign of a kitchen or servants bearing food anywhere.
Mozenrath caught her eye and gestured gracefully to the three drinks perched on the table, tall, heavy goblets of richly colored wine.
"Feel free to refresh yourself before the meal."
Jasmine wanted to refuse, and yet the ride had been a long one, and sand lingered on her lips. And once in her mouth, the wine did taste so deep and cool.
Jasmine felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sat down lightly in the seat Aladdin pulled out for her, unaware of Mozenrath's jealous glance. Inquires about her father's health and the kingdom in general sounded strange coming from Mozenrath's lips, but she answered them nonetheless, though shortly. She nudged Aladdin with her elbow, wishing he'd stop staring at Mozenrath so intently, as she was sure he was noticed, and it did seem somewhat rude, if not uncomfortable for them all.
But Aladdin was still trying to figure Mozenrath out. What, what was his game? And when he did catch the sorcerer's eye, the smile he found there did little to lessen his concerns.
Mozenrath turned as servants appearing from nowhere came up behind him with three platters of steaming breads and an entire roast fowl with heat-cracked skin. He gestured genially at the meals set before the royals.
"Please, eat, you must be hungry."
"Actually-" Jasmine began, about to share in a gesture of camaraderie her own hunger, when Mozenrath continued -
"So noble of you both to go without in sympathy of your subjects' plight."
Jasmine's head whipped about to face the smug sorcerer full on, her tone one one of angry suspicion. "Wait, how did you know about the famine? Mozenrath, did you have anything to do with it-" She went to stand, only to stumble against the table, manicured hand going to her small belly.
"Jasmine!" Aladdin cried, leaping up to her aid.
"Problems, princess?" Mozenrath asked in a oily manner, knowing full well the nature of the digestive stimulant he slipped into Jasmine's drink alone.
Jasmine grimaced, half bent, though struggling to stay upright. She shied away from Aladdin's comforting hands, instead staring at Mozenrath's accusingly.
"Facilities down the hall to the left," Mozenrath said gruffly, leaving the conversation to tuck into his own meal.
Jasmine hesitated, torn between wanting to assuage Aladdin's worries and assuage her own desire to throttle the cocky sorcerer, before making a graceful exit as she could manage given the circumstances, giving into the need to assuage her complaining belly first and foremost.
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Mozenrath laughed, hearing a door slam from far away. "Women. I bet she powdered her nose three times before you left and still that's not enough." He gestured at Aladdin's shoved-back chair, "Please sit, I'm sure our dear princess won't mind if we eat while she takes care of business."
"Well,did you?" Aladdin asked.
"Hmm?" Mozenrath asked innocently, eyebrow cocked.
Aladdin's brow was lowered, and he stormed over to Mozenrath, accusingly loudly, "Well, did you have anything to do with the famine?"
"Me?" Mozenrath said, flashing a toothy grin up at the fuming hero, "Of course not."
Aladdin jerked Mozenrath up by his collar, surprising the sorcerer.
"Mozenrath, this isn't a game. People are suffering and may die."
Mozenrath breathed shallowly in Aladdin's grip, half afraid, half thrilled by the threat of physical contact, before being roused to anger when Aladdin shook him a little.
"Answer me! What did you do?"
"Oh please." Mozenrath scoffed, shoving Aladdin off with a blast that slammed into his chair, before blue-light manacles shackled him down, "Spare me the dramatics."
"Besides," he said, smoothing his rumpled clothes with a blush he hoped the hero didn't notice on his cheeks, "Dinner is hardly the occasion for such brutish behavior."
Aladdin struggled in his confines, rocking the chair.
"Like we'd stay for dinner with you, you deceiver."
Mozenrath put on a mock pout, or at least a half-pout.
"And after all the trouble I went to."
With a wave of his gauntleted hand, the small meal before them disappeared, to be replaced by an array that dropped Aladdin's jaw. Hundreds of dishes appeared upon the table, the wood groaning with the new weight. Brighter, warmer, more perfect and tantalizing in shape than he had ever seen in his life. The amazing, thing, was, however, that every dish was a repeat or interpretation of the foods he lusted after as a boy on the street, foods he looked at with gleaming, envious eyes that went into the mouths of the impossibly rich and fortunate, while he was left with the scraps of the scraps.
He looked up into Mozenrath's face in bewilderment at the feast laid before him.
On the sorcerer's face was a less confidant, more intense expression than he had seen when Jasmine was in the room. He seemed unsure again. He stood proud and tall, but his voice was thinner, higher by the slightest note as he inquired awkwardly,
"Well?"
"Mozenrath," Aladdin said slowly, "What's going on here?"
Mozenrath wasn't expecting that, a question he had no graceful answer to. Ugh, trust Chaos to put an idea into his head that he didn't have the tools to see out; the bastard was probably laughing his ass off somewhere in the netherworld.
Aladdin was even more unnerved by Mozenrath's baffled silence; Mozenrath was never short a smart reply or quick rejoinder.
'I mean, this" he gestured as much as he could with arms bound down at the table before them, "What does it mean?"
Mozenrath felt the accursed heat rise in his face, "I don't, I don't know what you mean-" he began, but Aladdin cut through his half reply.
"And you actually leaving us alone for all these months? Are you planning something, because if you are-"
This time it was Mozenrath who cut him off with an angry shout.
"Of course, of course, how typical of you hero-types!" He stormed, angry at himself for his virginal-discomfort and his romantic trust in Aladdin, "I try and do a couple nice things and you take it completely the wrong way. I mean, I try and make your dinner more special by increasing your hunger by destroying Agrabah's crops with my poisons-"
"Wait, What? So you did-"
But Mozenrath's speech wasn't to be deterred, and the color rose in his face once more as he gestured wildly with his long limbs, counting off on his fingers.
"And before that, I even tried to give your sorry carcass some flowers, though Gods know why I thought that would work-"
"The flowers?!?"
"You go on the righteous offense, and all I'm trying to do is to tell your stupid, heroic, maddening self that I lo-"
His mouth snapped shut in horror, tempest shuddering to a halt. Aladdin's manacles dissolved, and he softened watching Mozenrath take a step back like he was about to run, more pallid than he has ever been.
Aladdin rose, and Mozenrath fell back into his chair, face going into his hands.
"Go, just go before I roast the both of you." he mumbled bitterly.
He felt Aladdin lean down over him, and went still, uncomprehending until he felt the kiss dropped on his forehead. It was small, barely-there, the lightest graze of lips on skin, but it was there.
He looked up into Aladdin's face, and Aladdin smiled gently, jostling Mozenrath's shoulder before turning to leave.
"Thanks, Moze."
He watched Aladdin leave, barely noticing when Xerxes flew in, happily setting into devouring the heaps of uneaten food. The eel looked up curiously into his owner's thoughtful face.
"Master happy? Master got what he want?"
Mozenrath laughed, and an old-Lord-of-the-Black-Sands-smirk settling comfortably on his face.
"Not yet, Xerxes. Not yet."
**********I will write a sequel or more like this, given one or two reviews***************************