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Chapter Text

It was a strange night.
Agrabah was weirdly silent, despite the presence of such an important guest. No voices were to be heard. The only noise came from the strong wind which Jafar could hear howling outside of his room.
He stood in front of the wide window located at the center of his chamber, trying to enjoy the last glimpses of the beautiful desert lightened by a moon which was progressively disappearing behind a wall of clouds.

His presence was required downstairs in the main chamber, but he tried to escape the Sultan and his guests for as long as possible, as he needed some time for himself. In fact, he enjoyed being alone.
The quietness of his room allowed him to think rationally.
He let his mind wander through the many irritating and tedious events of the last few days.
Prince Naji and his powerful entourage were visiting Agrabah with the obvious aim of winning Jasmine's and most importantly the Sultan's simpathy.
Jafar hadn't met them yet, he pretty much purposely avoided them, but he already knew which kind of people they were.
The grand vizier, in fact, was not a fool. He knew that the opportunity of becoming Sultan just by marrying a lonely girl was not to be wasted. But he also knew that all the effort and suffering he put into the research of the lamp was going to pay off. He was not going to let some random prince from who knows where just marry the princess and become Sultan.

The vizier suddenly stopped looking at the dunes through the window, and he started slowly walking up and down his chamber.
In order to become a good leader, Jafar considered, you have to be aware of the backstory of the place you intend to rule. And no one knew Agrabah's story more than he did. No one else took the time to read all the books he studied, nobody knew how many nights he spent trying to guess what it would feel like to have such a great power, the power of a Sultan.
A power which could never even remotely cross the mind of a lonely kid, a street rat like he once had been.

He distractely looked at the latest street vendors that were leaving, depriving the alleys of the only source of light which was represented by their lanterns.

With such a great power, Jafar continued reasoning, he would have been able to punish all those who mistreated him. Such an authority would have allowed him to take revenge on those who, when he was young, were willing to watch him die of hunger without moving a finger.
Jafar's proud grin grew as he contemplated the possibility of harming those who tortured him in prison, various years earlier.
He never told anyone, but he had promised himself that one day he would have returned the favour to the prison guards who tortured him.
They deserved to experience the same pain he went through because of them.
He could never forgive them, and he will never forget.
He would have made them scream in pain, until they'd have begged to be killed, and...
The vizier stopped walking back and forth, and he slowly turned again towards the big window in the center of his room.
The darkness of the cloudy night occluded the sight of the desert blown by the wind. All the vendors were gone, and everything had turned dark outside, thus all Jafar was able to see was his reflected image on the window's smooth glass.

He was the only one in the room, but the man in the reflection did not look like him.
In fact, the figure which Jafar saw in the window looked like a maniac, a madman.
A man with a strange, sad, lost sort of look.
When did the thought of hurting people started to amuse him?
Was he going insane? Was he turning into a monster?
Jafar covered his eyes with his hands, breathing rapidly.
Did he really care? Did he deserve to care about himself?
The grand vizier was horrified by his own reflection. He backed up a couple of steps.
"What have I become?" He whispered to himself, wondering if the haunted eyes which returned his gaze from the window pane were actually his own.

A low muffled thud interrupted his gloomy thoughts. Someone was knoking on his door.
Jafar, with a lump in his throat, decided to resign to his destiny. He took a deep breath as he started to mentally prepare himself to the nightmare-like evening ahead of him.
He wiped away a tear, pulling himself together, a stoic expression on his face.
"Come in" the vizier said with a falsely calm ton of voice.
Hakim opened the door and stood in the doorway, motionless.
"I was just about to come downstairs" Jafar said, looking at the guard while trying to keep a detached attitude.
His hands were shaking, and he grabbed the arm of his chair to hide it.
Hakim glanced at him, but remained silent.
The vizier was trying to avoid eye contact. He didn't want his only friend to see the monster he just saw reflected on the window's glass.

Even though Jafar was very skilled at hiding his emotions, the older man knew something was off. In fact, he had known that for a long time.
Over time, the vizier's eyes had lost the spark which used to characterize them.
Hakim couldn't blame him, because he knew all the suffering he went through.
But this evening the man seemed more upset than usual.

"Jafar"
Hakim called his name, but the vizier's mind seemed to be in a weird fog. He closed his eyes for a long while before opening them again, trying to focus on something other than his reflection on the window.
Dead silence fell on the chamber. Jafar could hear the blood pounding in his ears.
He was standing still, keeping a tight grip on the chair, his eyes focused on an undefined spot on the floor.
The weird atmosphere was interrupted once again by Hakim's voice.
"Tell me about it, get it off your chest"
The older man's words catched Jafar by surprise.
The grand vizier slowly looked up at him with a questioning look, meeting his eyes for a short second.
"What the hell do you even mean, Hakim?" he replied jokingly, trying to laugh him away.
"I mean to say" Hakim started walking towards Jafar "that you should rely on your friends a little more".
The guard stopped in front of Jafar, and he stared at him right in the face.
Jafar looked at Hakim's shoulder, still trying to avoid eye contact.
He was afraid that by returning his gaze, Hakim would have noticed the cold distance in his stare.
"I don't know what you're talking about".
Jafar tried to brush him off like that, all he wished was to escape the uncomfortable situation he was trapped in.
To support his affirmation he let go of the chair and he made his way towards the spiral staircase which led to the main chamber where the guests were.
As he arrived on his room's door, however, he noticed that Hakim hadn't moved.
"I thought that you came to tell me that the Sultan requires my presence in the main hall" the vizier said quietly.
With an undefined look on his face, Hakim shaked his head, but he eventually started following the younger man down the staircase.

As they got closer to the main chamber, the dull sound of voices got higher and higher.
Hakim looked at Jafar's sad expression, and Jafar briefly looked back at him, a sort of resigned half-smirk on his face.
"Don't look at me like that, you're going to have fun" Hakim said, with an ironical look on his face.
"That's for sure" nodded Jafar with a little grin as he walked towards the entrance of the main hall, wishing to be in Hakim's company for a little more.
"I hope to see you later tonight" said the guard before walking away.
Jafar looked at him until he disappeared in the nearby corridor, feeling a strange lightness in his stomach.

The main chamber was brightly-decorated with flowers and golden lamps, which created an atmosphere of feast.
The vizier, avoiding any social interaction, walked straight to the end of the room where Sultan Hamed was sitting.
"Good evening my Sultan"
Jafar greeted Agrabah's leader with his usual politeness, sitting on the empty chair next to his throne.
"Jafar, there you are!" Said the Sultan, with a kind expression on his face.
"Prince Naji really went all out with his gifts" he whispered to the vizier.
"Did he?" Jafar really couldn't care less about the spoiled prince and his entourage.
"Yes" nodded the Sultan, looking at prince Naji's figure standing next to the princess, on the other side of the room.
"They brought us countless golden statues and luxurious fabrics, and..."
"Will their wealth help them to be skilled in politics?" Jafar sharply interrupted the Sultan's depiction, looking at him straight in the eyes with a raised eyebrow.
"They can dress with the finest silk, they will look very charming sitting on your throne. But will they rule with compassion and justice?"
Jafar's tone was calm, but his gaze was severe.
The Sultan breathed out a long sigh, nervously playing with his armlet.
They both looked up to witness the pitiful scene of prince Naji trying to impress the princess.
Jafar's smirk started growing. It seemed like the princess was beyond annoyed with the spoiled man, who looked so full of himself.
She turned over and gave them a really mad look.
"I think she's loving him" Jafar said all innocent, crossing his legs and sitting back on his chair.
"She is, right?" The Sultan sighed again and took a sip of tea before putting a bitter smile on his face.
"But I won't live forever" Agrabah's leader concluded.

Jafar took his time to enjoy the sight of an angry and embarassed princess Jasmine trying to escape the advances of the foolish man who called himself a prince.
The vizier knew that princess Jasmine had never needed to move a finger in order to gain her power, nevertheless he couldn't bring himself to hate her. She was intelligent and toughtful. She was brave and always ready to help everyone in need. They used to be very close, but her sympathy towards him had significantly decreased since he started his secret quest for power. It felt as if she knew his intentions, his specific aims.
She now looked at him with a note of fear and disgust.
It was not like he could blame her, he looked at himself in the same way.

The disgust he felt for himself and for the situation he was trapped in prevailed in his mind that night.
He often considered the opportunity to walk away from everything...but he had climbed too high, and it was too late to give in at that point.
He had to reach the far end. He had to gain the highest power, or else his whole life would have gone wasted.
No one could do it better than him. Agrabah simply couldn't ask for any better.
His convinction grew bigger anytime he watched the trash prince open his dumb mouth.

A couple hours went by.
The vizier passed the whole dinner nervously playing around with his fork, without touching any food.
The concerned glances of the Sultan went almost unnoticed.
"You never eat, Jafar" the Sultan said lightly.
Jafar nodded, but his stomach was locked. He couldn't wait to go back to his chambers.
Around the end of the evening, prince Naji's guards improvised what seemed to be a little show, and Jafar decided that he couldn't take it anymore.
With the Sultan's permission he headed over towards his room, making his way through the crowded chamber.

As soon as he passed the main chamber's door, hidden from the guests eyes, Jafar stopped walking gracefully and he quickly ran up the staircase which led to his room, two steps at a time.
Once he got at the top he halted, out of breath, and he looked at the corridor ahead of him.
"You're getting old, Jafar"
The vizier's eyes widened, and he slowly turned around to see Hakim one flight of stairs above him, laughing quietly.
The younger man let go a sigh of relief.
"Don't you dare laugh! You scared me" Jafar said, acting offended.
"Don't play hurt with me" Hakim promptly responded, moving closer to the vizier and sitting on the stairs.
Jafar slowly sat on the step next to him, still trying to catch his breath.

They just sat there for a while, enjoying the corridor's peace and quiet.
Everyone was at the feast downstairs.
It was very late at night, and in the corridor ahead of them the only source of light was represented by the lanterns pinned on the wall, whose dim light made their shadows converge on the floor.
The moon was still covered by a cloudy sky, which seemed to announce the arrival of a huge storm.
There was a comfortable silence between the two men. They sat next to each other, distractly looking at lightnings in the distance through the arches in the corridor's wall.

The vizier could barely keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to rest.
The dark circles around his eyes were the proof of his tiredness.

"You should get some sleep"
Hakim said all of a sudden. "You look exhausted".
Jafar looked at him with a fake questioning look, ready to step into the role of the emotionless vizier which was never tired.
He wanted to reassure Hakim, he wanted to claim that he had things entirely under his control, but words wouldn't come out.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it immediately.
Why would he lie to one of the only people that he had ever loved? Jafar knew he could trust him.
But he also knew that he didn't deserve Hakim's frienship and concern.

"I am... very tired". The words just flew from the vizier.
It was barely a whisper, but Hakim had heared it. Jafar appeared caught off guard, as he rested his chin on his upraised hands, lost in thought.
Hakim knew that insisting on getting him to talk was counterproductive, so he just looked at him, waiting.
Jafar looked back at the guard, unsure of what to do.
"Nightmares keep me awake at night". The vizier explained, looking at Hakim with accusing eyes, almost challenging him to start making fun of his confession.
As childish as it sounded, Jafar spoke the truth.
Nightmares wouldn't let him sleep.
He was terrified at the thought of resting, because he knew they would come and haunt him.
The harrowing screams of pain coming from the adjacent cells, the smell of blood, the physical pain, the open wounds, the hopelessness...
Jafar would wake up in the middle of the night frozen in fear, and he would lay in bed until the early hours of the morning trying to separate reality from immagination.
"Promise me, next time, you will look for me. We will sort things out together" Hakim said with a severe tone, looking at Jafar straight in the eyes.

The vizier shifted his gaze on his hands, embarassed for his weakness.
He felt like a coward. How did he intend to rule Agrabah? He was pitiful and pathetic.
Most importantly, he didn't want to look weak in front of Hakim.

"I am not a coward" Jafar spit out with a hint of resentment.
"That thought never even crossed my mind" the guard replied.
Jafar never doubted that Hakim was being sincere.
"Okay" cut short the vizier.
Jafar knew that Hakim was a man of few words, and to be honest he appreciated this side of his personality.
Silence fell over them for a little while, and Jafar closed his eyes, leaning on the wall behind him.
"By the way" the vizier suddenly said, lightly grabbing the guard's arm "thank you Hakim".
Hakim just wrapped one arm around him, and the younger man rested his head on the guard's shoulder, trying his best to ignore his own foolish pride, at least for that one night.

Chapter Text

Jafar squinted his eyes. A long time had passed since he last saw the light.
The cell was cold and clammy.
He trembled. He knew what was about to happen.
An unpleasant voice echoed within the four stony walls.
"Look at the Sultan's little lap dog"
The sound of laughter all around him, then a cold blade pointed on his neck.
"Do you really think he cares whether you live or die?" Sherabad's guard mocked him.
"You foolish boy. I bet he has already found your replacement". 
The guard pushed him on his knees.

What if he actually...No. Jafar had to banish that thought. He needed to avoid it, or he would have completely lost his mind.

He closed his eyes, pretending to be somewhere else.

"Why are you so quiet? You want to stay silent? Time to make you speak then..." 
The knife's blade approached his chest's bare skin, but before he could feel that pain again, everything vanished. 

Jafar woke up startled, his heart racing.
He blinked a few times breathing heavily, still in shock. 
He sat up and he looked around, slowly recognizing the palace's corridor and the spiral staircase where he was seated.
Hakim was still at his side, a concerned look on his face.
The vizier breathed out a sigh of relief, trying to collect himself.

“Hakim, you’re here…”
"You're awake" Hakim whispered. 
"And you have been awake all night" Jafar stated, his voice shaking.
"Well that's not a problem" the guard responded, a little reassuring smile on his face.
Staring off into space, Jafar tried his best to remove the still vivid and horrific images from his mind.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Hakim suggested after a while, stretching out a hand to help him up.
Jafar nodded as he grabbed the guard's hand, standing up slowly. He felt dizzy, and his back was in pain, but at least he hadn't woke up by himself.
In a surreal silence, they headed out towards the gardens.

Tranquility reigned over the large outdoor spaces.
Overnight, the strong wind had swept away all the clouds.
The sun had not completely risen yet, but his rays were starting to enlighten the contours of the dunes in the distance.
Everyone was still asleep, probably recovering from the previous evening's feast. 
The branches of the garden's trees were lightly shook by a soft sea breeze.
They walked quietly, breathing the cold morning air.

Full of resentment, Jafar distractedly looked around, trying to comfort himself at the thought of the lamp. Only through the lamp he could have fulfilled his darkest desires for revenge.
He had to find it at all costs.
With the magic object in his hands, he would have turned himself into the most powerful human being to have ever lived. Only then, maybe, he would have found some peace.
He looked up at the sky, hoping to see a certain parrot returning from his expedition at the cave, but he saw nothing but a clear sky above him.
The vizier shifted his gaze on the ornaments which encircled the external walls of the palace, and ultimately he looked at Hakim.

Right by his side, the guard had a stoic expression on his face. He was walking quietly, his hands clasped behind his back.

Jafar realized he hadn’t even thanked him.
“I’m lucky to have you…as a friend, Hakim” Jafar said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Are you feeling better?" Hakim cautiously asked, worried about him.
The vizier shrugged before answering.
"Kind of. As I told you last night, nightmares never leave me" he mumbled with a resigned smirk on his face.
Hakim narrowed his eyes.
"You should have told me that earlier" he muttered.
Jafar frowned, a questioning look on his face. He trusted Hakim, of course. But his problems were not easy to manage, and the vizier didn’t want to look like a monster in his eyes.
"I mean, you should talk to me about your problems a little more" the guard explained in a firm tone.
Almost embarrassed, Jafar sighed before answering.
"There is nothing to be sorted out. You shouldn't bother with me Hakim, I'm telling you..."
"Why shouldn't I? I do care about you".
The guard harshly interrupted him. His words were sincere, and once again, a sense of guilt started taking over Jafar.

"You really shouldn't, because..."

The vizier couldn't get the words part his throat.
He felt as if he was pulled in two different directions at once:
a big part of himself only wanted power and revenge. That was the part which pushed him to strive for power and to betray people that he loved.
But there was another side of him which kept trying to emerge.
This side told him that vengeance would have brought nothing but further suffering.
And as much as he tried to suffocate this weak part of himself, it managed to surface every time, especially when he was in Hakim's company.
The very last thing he wanted was letting him down.
Jafar looked at the large fountain in the middle of the garden.
He observed the light reflected on the flowing water, sighing bitterly before finishing his sentence.

"I'm not a good man, Hakim".
Words came out of the vizier's mouth before he could contain them.
"I'm not worth it. Sherabad's prison got me going out of my head" he confessed, carefully avoiding the guard’s gaze.

Hakim held his breath as he heard the younger man's words.
Jafar almost never let himself go like that. He hardly ever spoke about his troubles. He'd always hide behind a mask of insensitivity, but for someone who knew him well as Hakim it was possible to decipher his looks, as much as the vizier wanted to disguise them. 
These thoughts made him shake his head.
"No one deserves my concern more than you do"
He stopped walking, launching a severe look at the vizier. 

Jafar took a couple more steps before noticing that the older man had stayed behind. 
For once, the vizier was caught off guard. He had not prepared himself to hide all the emotions which came along with the other man's words.
He bit his lips, unsure of what to say.
Hakim was able to put out such important and thoughtful sentences with an extraordinary simplicity.
"No one ever told me that" was the only thing Jafar managed to say, his voice cracking.
But what if the guard had known about his quest for the lamp?
He would have despised him, and the vizier wouldn't have handled that.

Once again, a meaningful silence fell upon them. 
Beneath them, the city was starting to wake up. The street vendors were setting up their colorful tents and they were starting to stock the merchandise on the counters.
The two men looked at them from the garden’s balcony, lost in their deep thoughts. In the distance, the endless golden desert shone below the sun’s first rays.

"Hakim?" Jafar slowly turned to the older man with an undefinable, almost afraid gaze.
He took some time before speaking again, letting his eyes wander through the desert sands.
"Do you think it's foolish to wish for revenge?" 
Jafar couldn't prevent himself from asking that question, nonetheless he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Even though he was aware that Jafar hated recalling those moments, Hakim immediately understood what the vizier was referring to. And in fairness he couldn't blame him. He too would have sought vengeance. 
He would have made the same mistake Jafar was willing to get into.
But Hakim knew that vengefulness had been the downfall of many great men, and he wouldn't have allowed it to be Jafar's downfall as well. 
The pursuit of revenge would have corroded him. It would have driven him mad.

"It's not foolish. But ask yourself how much it's worth".
Hakim affirmed, looking at the horizon through his deep dark eyes.
"Consider how many people you'd lose, think about the consequences. Sherabad is one of Agrabah's closest allies. You would put yourself against the Sultan".
A shiver run up Jafar's spine.
He regretted opening his mouth.
"So... are you suggesting that I should simply forget?" Jafar inquired, flustered. "Should I forgive them for the hurt they caused me? Am I supposed to back down, in your opinion?" The vizier slowly articulated his sentence, raising his voice.

Hakim closed his eyes for a great while, searching for the right words to express himself.
"What I meant is...don't let them ruin your life any further".

Jafar was annoyed, but despite that he pondered the guard’s words.
Leaning with both his elbows on the balustrade, the vizier considered the miserable possibility of a future without Hakim.
A future without his half-smiles, without their eye contact in the great chamber behind the Sultan's back; a future deprived of their evening walks and of their teasing.
He shivered at the prospect of Sultan Hamed hating him or never wanting to see him again.
He imagined the Sultan's kind eyes turning harsh against him.
Maybe...maybe he had too much to lose.

"I'm sorry for raising my voice. That's why I'm not worth your concern" Jafar admitted with grieved voice, looking down at his feet.
"Don't ever say that" With a finger, the guard slowly lifted up Jafar's chin until their eyes met. 
"But promise me, before making any rash and costly decision you will discuss it with me" Hakim whispered.
Jafar nodded, his heart fluttering to the point he could hear it banging against his chest.
He couldn't help but look at the other man's lips, trying his best once again to push away the strange thoughts forming in his head. 

The weird atmosphere on the balcony was interrupted by a distant sound of voices which broke the morning’s quietness.
Both men turned towards the source of the noise.
A relatively small cloud of dust coming from the desert started getting closer and closer to the palace, heading straight towards the main door.
Hakim straightened up his spear, his eyes darting over the rail to detect any possible treat.
Who might have wanted to break into the palace at such an early time in the morning?
Narrowing their eyes, they finally spotted in the middle of the dusty cloud three hooded figures on the back of their camels, each wearing prince Naji's insignia.

The vizier looked at them with a raised eyebrow as they got nearer.

"What on heart was prince Naji doing in the open desert?" Hakim snorted and rolled his eyes, putting down his spear.
"In the middle of the night..." Jafar continued.
A suspicion had darted into his head, but he managed to play it cool.

Below them, the three men had slowed down.
Looking around, prince Naji and his two faithful guards got off their camels.
They made their way through the narrow streets, casually entering into the palace with a proud grin on their faces, saluting the palace guards with a gesture before disappearing in the halls.

Jafar was so focused in looking at them that he didn't notice an exhausted bird which pointed straight at him.
Iago landed heavily on his master's shoulder with loud heckling, scaring off a distracted Jafar. 
Cursing under his breath, the vizier turned away from the balcony railing, trying to soothe the parrot's hysteric cackles.

"Master! The prince! The lamp!"
"Cool down Iago. What are you talking about?"
"Prince! Wants the lamp! He was at the cave!"

Jafar stood frozen for a moment.

Maybe the parrot was wrong.

“Are you sure of what you saw Iago?” the vizier asked in a falsely calm tone, lowering his voice as much as possible.

“Yes master”

“Prince Naji was at the cave tonight?” Jafar insisted, a weird grimace on his face.

“At the cave” Iago kept screaming.

With a questioning expression, still standing on the garden’s balcony, Hakim stared at Jafar.

What was his parrot talking about? Why was he so upset?

Jafar looked back at him, his head in his hands, a desperate look on his face.

Chapter Text

At the breakfast table sultan Hamed was slowly sipping his tea from an elegant glass, occasionally shooting concerned glances at the grand vizier.
Princess Jasmine, sitting nearby, was busy petting Raja with one hand while reading a worn-out map with the other.
At times she raised her eyes, shifting them on the vizier and wondering what could have been the reason behind his strange attitude.
The man, in fact, never let his concern shine through under any circumstances, but that particular morning he looked quite worried.

Jafar, for its part, was motionless on his chair, staring at his hands rested on the wide round table where he was sitting with the other two.
After hearing Iago's warning on the palace's balcony that same early morning, accompanied by a confused Hakim, he had rushed to the main chamber where his presence, as always, was required.
He looked pale and exhausted as he casually nodded at the Sultan's words, not even fully understanding them.

Prince Naji knew about the lamp.
What if he found it before him? What if he owned it already?

He couldn't let any of that happen.
It was for that reason that he had sent Iago to investigate over the suspicious activities of the prince.
"Jafar, are you sure you're all right?"
The Sultan's voice called him back from his thinking.
"Of course, my Sultan" the vizier quickly responded, sitting straight on his chair.
Agrabah's leader slowly nodded, pretending to believe his words.
The younger man had always been a riddle to him, ever since he took him to the Palace.
"By the way, where is Iago?" The sultan asked, turning his head from one side of the room to the other, looking for the parrot which usually at breakfast time rested on his master's shoulder begging out loud for some of his food.
"He's...he's sleeping in my room" Jafar mumbled, not looking at him in the eyes.

Lies. Always lies in the face of those who deserved nothing but the truth.

Raising an eyebrow, the princess looked suspiciously at the grand vizier, who kept staring at the table without even flinching.
"Unusual of Iago to waste such an opportunity to annoy the entire palace"
Jasmine mocked, narrowing her eyes.
"Just like your ugly cat over there" Jafar responded bitterly between clenched teeth, shooting a distainful look in Raja's direction.
The ugly cat in question, feeling at the center of attention, started growling at the vizier.
In response Jafar sprang to his feet, pointing a finger at the feline which was menacingly advancing towards him:
"If that cat tries to touch me..."
"What are you gonna do about it?" Jasmine dared him, a harsh look on her face.
"Enough!" The Sultan's voice echoed through the palace's walls, and both Jafar and Jasmine froze on the spot, both turning towards him on the back foot.

"Jasmine, darling, why don't you take Raja for a walk?" Agrabah's leader sighed, turning to his daughter with a kind voice tone "I'd like to keep Jafar in one piece" he concluded sarcastically.
"Yes baba" Jasmine muttered, recalling the tiger's attention and guiding her towards the chamber's exit, launching a defiant eye at the vizier before banging the door behind her.
The Sultan breathed out another sigh before turning up to Jafar.

Standing with his arms crossed, the younger man was staring off into nowhere.
His thoughts kept wandering through the far away desert, reaching the cave and then shifting back on a certain guard.
Which words was he going to use to explain everything to Hakim?
Would he have had enough courage to let the truth out?

"How have you been, Jafar?"
Once again Sultan Hamed's voice broke the silence, waking him up from those thoughts.
He struggled focusing on the older man's words.
"I'm perfectly fine. I don't understand why everyone keeps asking me that" cut short the vizier, trying his best to sound convincing.
"It does not seem like that"

The Sultan's words floated in the air for a long while before Jafar was able to grasp them, realizing the meaning behind them.
"Allow me to worry about you"
The older man's saddened eyes passed through the vizier along with the beginning of a crucial acknowledgment: it was sultan Hamed himself that Jafar believed to be ready to betray.
Maybe he had always been wrong, and what Hakim had told him that same morning was correct.
He couldn't indulge on revenge. He had too much to lose. Not just his position as grand vizier, but the affection of those who cared about him.
An affection which he didn't deserve, but which at the same time he didn't wish to disappoint.

"Nothing to worry about, my sultan" Jafar concluded.
"Why don't you take the day off and rest for a while?" Agrabah's leader suggested before being abruptly interrupted by the vizier
"I don't need that, but thank you".
Rolling his eyes, sultan Hamed stopped insisting, as he knew it was useless.
The two men made their way towards the exit, the silence only interrupted by the sound of their footsteps.

That morning, Hakim was on guard duty outside of the main chamber where the sultan was consuming his breakfast.
He had not slept that night, sitting on the palace's staircase and observing Jafar's chest slightly moving up and down to the rhytm of his breathing.
While he was asleep, without his usual frowny face, the vizier looked younger, almost ressembling the boy he met for the first time various years earlier.
But now he couldn't stop asking himself the meaning behind that morning's events.
What did Iago meant when he rambled about that lamp? Why was Jafar so upset?
The vizier had managed to avoid his questions with the pretext of the sultan expecting his presence, but he couldn't have avoided him forever.
He had promised that before taking any impulsive decision he would have spoken with him.
Hakim hoped that the vizier would have kept his commitment.


Jafar and the sultan left the main chamber, the vizier immediatly noticing Hakim's presence in the hall.
The guard gave him the dirtiest look as he walked past him.
Following the sultan, Jafar recognised that Hakim had every reason in the world to be mad at him, given the way in which he avoided his demands for an explanation that morning on the balcony.
For a short moment the vizier turned towards Hakim with a guilty look on his face, promising to himself that he would have confronted him as soon as sultan Hamed freed him from his duties.
Truth was Jafar was subtly trying to postpone that moment for as long as possible.
Was he a coward? Possibly, but the was too afraid of losing him. Stupid of him, as he knew that in so doing he would have only made the entire situation worse.

He kept himself after the sultan the entire day, sitting at his side on the large work desk as he read again and again the same letters and documents, occasionally gazing at the window above him looking for signs of Iago.
Many hours passed, and the sky started to darken until the vizier could no longer distinguish the silhouettes of the rooftops in front of him.
It was at that point that the sultan blew out the half burnt candle on his room's desk, firmly closing the book he was reading and standing up, unwillingly followed by Jafar.
"Get some rest, if you can" the sultan told him, patting his back gently.
Jafar nodded, feeling a small but genuine grin forming on his face.
"Goodnight" he saluted Agrabah's leader, before closing the door behind him.


Right outside Sultan Hamed's room, a gust of cold air made him shiver.
The previous day's heavy rain had considerably lowered the normally sizzling desert temperatures.
Jafar started to walk faster, to warm up himself and to avoid umpleasant situations.
He threw several gazes around him before turning in the corridor which led to his chamber, looking foward to seal the door behind him.

"Someone is in a hurry tonight"
Jafar froze in the middle of the corridor, cursing under his breath.
He slowly turned to spot Hakim's figure emerging from the corridor's darkness, a wry expression emphasized by the shadows on his face.
"Did you just happened to be passing?"
The vizier asked in a challenging tone of voice.
Jafar knew he had no right to be annoying, but something about Hakim's attitude that evening tremendously bothered him.
Maybe it was the fact that the other man was in the right and he was dead wrong.
"I happen to find myself here because I'd like you to explain what was Iago talking about this morning"
"None of your business, as far as I remember".
Jafar knew that he was exaggerating, but he used the mocking attitude as sort of relief valve.
Hakim had always been there for him.
They had been close friends ever since he arrived at the palace, and they barely ever discussed.
"Sorry for caring about you, I guess" Hakim snorted, crossing his arms and moving closer to the vizier, looking at him straight in the eyes.
Jafar chuckled, his chin tilted up and a haughty expression on his face.
He couldn't stop behaving like a fool, and he was aware of that, but his pride had taken over and it was whispering in his hear that opening up to Hakim would have been a vulnerable move.
He hated himself for that.
What was he supposed to respond? A remote but relentless side of his conciousness took over him for the shortest moment.
-Sorry for my tendency to push you away. Truth is that I am afraid my feelings for you might have gotten too strong, and I cannot allow that-
Jafar closed his eyes, shutting down that persistent little voice inside of his head.
"Would you mind leaving me alone? I am tired" the vizier said instead. Words hurt as they were spoken out loud.
With the intention of isolating himself into his chamber Jafar tried to bypass Hakim, but the guard grabbed him by the front of his vest, immobilizing him against the wall's corridor.
"Why don't you try and make peace with your brain, Jafar?" the guard coldly intimated.
Standing with his back against the wall, the vizier widened his eyes, caught by surprise.
Trying to look unimpressed, he stared up at the guard straight in the eyes.
"Would you help me with that?" The younger man mocked softly.
"You are being such a smartass tonight" Hakim answered a few inches from his lips.
"Only tonight?" Jafar whispered shortly, right before the other man's lips against his made him quiet.
The vizier closed his eyes as he kissed him back, feeling his knees trembling and wondering if he would have been able to stand up without Hakim's tight hold on his vest's collar.
What if someone saw them? Jafar was willing to take that risk as he tightened his grip on Hakim's waist, resting his chin on the guard's shoulder to catch his breath.
"Is this the only way to make you shut up?" Hakim jocked, releasing the hold on the younger man's vest.
Slightly stumbling, Jafar shook his head, laughing quietly in the lone corridor as he approached his room's door, inviting Hakim to come inside.
He owed him an explanation, and it was time for him to let the whole truth out.
Hakim would have hated him for his cowardice and lust for power, but he deserved to be aware of the truth.
Once again, the vizier felt as if his mind was clouded.
His art of diplomacy kept fainting when he was around the guard, and maybe it was for the best: no more games.
Locking the door behind them, Jafar slowly turned to the other man with a tense look on his face, breathing in depth before starting to narrate the lamp's backstory, observing every frown, every micro expression on Hakim's face to try and interpret his thoughts.

Chapter Text

Once his room's door was locked behind them, Jafar started narrating the whole story from the very beginning. For the first time he opened up about his agony in prison. He explained how the word "worthless" couldn't stop echoing through his head, as a reminder of who, deep inside, he truly was. He told Hakim how well he remembered each cut, each painful open wound, the hopelessness and the unbearable smell as he was confined within four stony and humid walls. He recalled how, during that horrific time, sunlight had turned into a sweet memory to hang on to when suffering and despair started to prevail.

"And now they are our allies" Jafar spit out, disgusted.

Before continuing his long description, the vizier took some deep breathes to try and calm himself down. He tried to focus on the present. He was not in Sherabad: he was in his room. Hakim was with him. And if he was with him, everything was going to be fine.

Eventually, he switched to the lamp's story. One magic lamp and three wishes which made the possibilities infinite. A genie. The cave of wonders. The diamond in the rough. Hakim blinked a few times, trying to fully absorb Jafar's explanation.

"You wanted to become Agrabah's Sultan" the guard numbly stated.

"Yes. I would have proved that I'm not worthless. And I would have made Sherabad pay for the hurt they've caused". Saying it out loud made Jafar realize how far he had gone with his madness.

The whole room fell silent. The vizier's snake staff was posed in a corner, his ruby red eyes feebly flashing around the few light sources in the room. Hakim had always questioned Jafar's love for those treacherous creatures. Looking around, the guard couldn't help but notice the large pile of old books crammed on the top of Jafar's bed. And then hourglasses, sundials, astrolabes and other undefinable scientific instruments which occupied most of the flooring. The vizier had always been a curious man, and the guard meant "curious" in a fascinating way. Hakim considered curiosity as cleverness in its purest form, intended as the vital desire of knowledge and understanding. But life had taught Hakim that human beings just aren't wired for the mere sake of knowledge as an end in itself. The more they learn, the more they get to know the infinite possibilities provided by the fate, and if those opportunities include the attainment of power, Hakim knew how difficult it was to resist its temptation. For a child who never received affection, for a young man who had been forced to live in the streets in fear and in hunger, the desire to prove himself as worthy was almost justifiable. But for someone as Jafar, who in addition to that had been tortured in prison for five years, that desire was more than understandable: it was almost predictable. Hakim took plenty of time to ponder and consider the other man's infinite facets and arguments. He would have never pointed his finger at him, and in that crucial moment it was absolutely essential to reflect and to avoid platitudes and empty words. Jafar's search for the lamp was an infamous move to say the least. Even the smallest thought regarding treason made a shiver run up Hakim's spine. He would have died rather than betray the Sultan. But the faded image of the other man being tortured in prison made him want to search for the lamp himself and wish for Sherabad's jailers to suffer the tortures of the damned. Who was him to judge Jafar? Hakim knew he needed to be unbiased while judging anyone. And at the same time, experience had taught him that the edges of right doing and wrongdoing faded easily when compared with a greater scheme, a plan which didn't took into account any foolish human taunt.

He glanced at Jafar. The vizier was looking at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. The guard was aware that his silence was a torture for the vizier, but he needed to sort out his thoughts and feelings before opening his mouth.

Hakim had known Jafar for several years, but he had never seen him as broken as that night. He had managed to keep it together in front of everyone. He always faked indifference, almost apathy, but he was torn on the inside. Hakim blamed himself. He called him his friend, but he wasn't able to help him recover from his trauma. He witnessed Jafar's eyes losing their spark without addressing the issue, he watched him pulling away from everyone, even from the sultan, without begging him to come back. Maybe it was too late to bring the old Jafar back, too late to revive the young boy he was when he arrived at the palace, but it wasn't too late to help him now. There was still time to stand by him. To make him feel understood and protected.

Standing with his back turned, facing the big window, Jafar removed his cape and his formal headpiece before launching a frightened gaze towards Hakim. He probably had just lost the trust of the most important person to him. "Worthless!" The voice in his head wouldn't silence. It made his entire body shiver.

Hakim, his brows wrinkled with the effort of thought, stood staring at him with a sort of terrible intensity. He remained quiet for a long time, his eyes lost on an undefinable spot behind Jafar's shoulders.

"You kept your promise" The guard finally spoke, after what felt like an eternity. The vizier had promised to confront him before carring out any reckless decision. With his shoulders slightly hunched, Jafar crooked a little smile at him.

"I only trust you" he whispered, guilt in his eyes. Hakim lightly shook his head before turning to Jafar, a firm expression on his tired face. "Trusting me was a bad decision. I never deserved your trust" the guard stated.

Jafar's eyes widened. He turned to look at him, a questioning look plastered on his face as if the guard had gone crazy all of a sudden. He couldn't figure out the Hakim's words. Bad decision? He was the one who didn't deserve anything. He was the cheater, the betrayer, the backstabber. Hakim was a good man, a loyal suitor of the sultan. A loyal friend of him, at least up to that evening.

But Hakim meant what he said. He never deserved Jafar's trust. To avoid disturbing him, he had never raised the true issues with the vizier's mental state, and just now he had realized how necessary it was. He had unintentionally left him alone, just like everyone else. And he would have never forgiven himself for that.

"You faced your trauma all by yourself. I should've been by your side".

"Don't be naive, Hakim." Jafar abruptly interrupted him, smiling bitterly. "I've always known what I was doing. I did everything deliberately. There are no excuses for me".

Once again Hakim shook his head, looking at him with insistence. "You're the naive one. And you're also very stubborn" he pointed out, moving closer to the vizier. "You're not made of stone, Jafar. Non of us are" he continued with a more gentle voice, his gaze still fixed on the vizier's sad eyes. "You've still got time to redeem yourself. You're not a traitor. We are what we choose to be. And what we choose is reflected in the way we act". Hakim paused, staring at the younger man through his deep dark eyes. "Questioning our own ideas shows wisdom, not weakness. That's where change comes from. Change means growth. And tonight, you have proven yourself to be a wise man".

"Wise men would never dream of overthrowing someone they consider as a mentor" Jafar pointed out as last line of defence against the truth he was being forced to face.

"No. Wise man know when it's time to stop acting foolish" Hakim roughly answered, crossing his arms as he glared at the vizier's flushed face.

Hakim had quite his own way to storm into the chaos of Jafar's mind. His calm but deep voice never spoke haphazard words, it always kept the facts straight without lapsing into clichés. Hakim was smart, Jafar knew that. Behind his quiet attitude there was a strong personality, an individuality filled with honesty and rational thought.

That's why, even though they were in the same room, the vizier had never felt further from him. They stood miles apart, separated by a thin veil made of unspoken words, repressed feelings, miserable lies. A veil which could have been torn apart so easily, but which Jafar never dared even lightly touching, at least until that night, until that hurried kiss in the corridor. Jafar bit his lips, clinging to that brief feeling of closeness and warmth no one ever gave him and wishing it had lasted longer. Hakim was right. He had the possibility to choose. He had the chance to seek the lamp, to exact revenge, to reach power and greatness. But at the same time he had the opportunity to destroy the veil which distanced them, he had the chance to stop with all false word games and two-bit tricks. Maybe he had stopped himself just under the wire. But now it was time for him to pick a side.

"You can hate me if you want to" Jafar looked away, trying his best not to be seen as he wiped away a tear he hadn't managed to hold back. "I mean...I would completely understand" he kept ranting, playing nervously with the sleeves of his gown.

Hakim, measuring him up with a somewhat frazzled look, laughed lightly.

"What's so funny?" Jafar frowned, glaring at the older man.

"You. You are funny if you think I could ever hate you" Hakim responded, raising an eyebrow and turning around, heading straight towards the exit, leaving a confused and overwhelmed Jafar alone with his own thoughts.

Hakim figured the other man would have needed some time by himself to process all the remarks of that evening. Some time alone to think.

"Stay"

With his hand already on the door handle, Hakim held his breath, not daring to turn around.

"If...you want" The vizier continued, a little embarrassed for his childish request. He was determined to make up for all the time they spent apart because of stupid silences and mental stresses.

With both eyebrows raised, Hakim slowly came back to stand in front of the vizier, looking at him with an undefinable expression. "You're the one who always seems to want solitude" Hakim pointed out in a flat voice, pretending to be annoyed. "False. I'd rather be with you Hakim. Obviously, if you don't hate me. You would have every right to do so. And in that case I..." Jafar never managed to finish his ramble. Hakim had his very own method to silence the vizier, and he figured that evening it had been very useful and functional. As their lips brushed against each other, Jafar clung to Hakim desperately, as if he was afraid to watch the guard disappear into thin air at any moment. Hakim held him close, trying to silently reassure him that he was not alone. Hidden from the world as they listened to each other's heartbeat in the quietness of Agrabah's clear night, Jafar felt at peace for the first time in years.

The moon was up and very bright in the cloudless sky, and a mild sea breeze was lightly shaking the palm trees in the city beneath them.

"I'm on patrol tonight" Hakim broke the silence, reluctantly interrupting what felt like a surreal, almost magical moment between them. But duty was duty, and Hakim had no excuses to absent himself that night. Nodding, Jafar slowly let him go. He knew that there was one more problem to fix: prince Naji. He was aware of the lamp's existence, and he was on the hunt for it.

"Be careful. That prince Naji doesn't convince me" Jafar whispered.

"That's odd. You always like everyone" The guard mocked him as he moved towards the exit, accompanied by the vizier.

"I am not kidding. Iago told me that he...is involved in something regarding the lamp".

Hakim suddenly became serious. "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, Jafar launched him a severe look. "I'm not sure. Iago told me he saw that prince and his guards near the cave of wonders"

"Maybe they just happened to be there by chance?"

"Maybe, yes" Jafar cut short.

Hakim had talked like that because he was unaware of the precise location of the cave. There were no roads leading there, and there were even fewer information on how to get there. Whoever managed to reach that place for sure wasn't there by chance.

"Be careful anyway" the vizier told the other man before closing his room's door behind him.

Chapter Text

A couple days went by, days filled with silence, cracked smiles and meaningful glances. Jafar had shut himself into a melancholic and undaunted silence, interrupted now and then by brief one-word answers and nods. Escaping every opportunity to confront with Hakim, the vizier looked very much as if he wanted to melt into his own chair each time the guard firmly gazed in his direction behind the Sultan's back in the main room.

Old habits die hard, Hakim considered.

But he was not going to force the other man to act normal, as if nothing ever happened. His silence meant that he was trying to sort himself out, and the guard respected that. He knew that, in such a situation, space and quietness were critical.

Regardless, Hakim was able to read between the thin lines of gestures and small details, and he had managed to understand that Jafar didn't wish to freeze him out. Facts spoke for themselves, and the vizier's care for him was shown through the simplest yet deepest actions.

The fact that Jafar always made sure he was all right after a night patrol, pulling out the dumbest excuses to avoid confessing his concerns. Their little exchanges of looks that no one seemed to notice, but which meant a lot to them, as they showed that not even prison, not even torture had been able to bend their innate feelings.

Words were futile when compared with such small but significant actions. No deep speeches would have been of any use anymore. Now it was time for the both of them to put their thoughts together, and to try and sort out their own profound emotions and feelings which, wrongfully, were pushed back for too long. Pondering about them would have lead to healing, and eventually to an even stronger link between them, a bond no longer overshadowed by silence. But Hakim didn't want to rush into anything, and stillness kept imposing itself like a fine mist, clouding their minds.

As usual, Hakim's night patrol had started when the bright north star was aligned with the highest palace's dome.

The tranquillity of the darkness always comforted him in some way. 

That night, however, as he walked briskly through the dim hallway lights with a hand firmly placed on his sword hilt, he was having the unsettling impression of being watched. As he coasted an elegant terrace, walking down the long greyish hall, Hakim briefly glanced at the precise alignment of vertical windows which ran through the external corridor's sidewall. Beneath them it glimmered the clean-cut lushness of the palace gardens.

Distractedly adjusting with one hand the heavy metal armour on his chest, the guard frowned. He always trusted his guts, and that night he felt like something was off. He wasn't the type to be easily impressed. After several years of experience as a palace guard, he had understood how to discern each mild sound caused by the palace's old creaky doors, he had comprehended how not to be tricked by the hissing breathes of wind gusts intersecting the narrow corridors. He had become familiar with each single noise in order to avoid being misled, and he now managed to distinguish them from possible intruders.

That is why he was preoccupied.

Through the hall, the lightest muffled tapping noise was repeatedly echoing around, abruptly halting with him as soon as he turned to inspect on its source. Hakim tightened his grip around the sword's hilt, tensing his muscles.

Jafar's warn against prince Naji kept bumping around in his head, along with the recognition that the vizier was a great observer and an even greater thinker, two things which resulted in Jafar's suppositions being almost always accurate.

A distinct sound of footsteps reverberated from the rear. Hakim was being followed. He had no doubts. The muffled and repetitive sound he was hearing came from steps on the stony hall floor, close behind him. Reversing his march, he hastened back towards the stepping sound, aware of the risk he was taking. With his muscles tensed in distress Hakim kept his eyes well open, scanning every single corner, his sword ready to snap. As he strolled down the corridor in the opposite direction, the thumping sound of paces rushing forward resonated before him, as to confirm his suspicion. Now the intruder was escaping. Why didn't he want to reveal his identity? If the man had nothing to hide, he wouldn't have needed to run off in such way. Hakim accelerated the pace, trying to be as silent as his clanging armour allowed it. He had to keep on the move.

Finally, at the far end of the corridor, he discerned a hooded figure moving away with long strides. Based on the stature, the guard supposed he was a man, but it was hard to make guesses from that far away and in such a dim light. "Who goes there?" Hakim yelled, pointing the sword at the silhouette of the unknown man. Cornered, the hooded figure had no choice but to escape from the corridor's terrace which overlooked the palace's garden. Hakim looked at him while, one knee after the other, the intruder climbed the window, throwing himself on the grass and limping away as fast as the loud impact allowed it. He had made a rather high jump, thus Hakim wasn't going to imitate him. He saw no value in hurting himself aimlessly.

Putting the sword back into his scabbard, the guard sprinted towards the main entrance, fastly moving through the garden. The intruder wasn't going to get far with such a gimpy leg, and Hakim would've stopped him.

Several guards were surveilling the front gateway, but none of them had seen anyone entering or leaving the palace. Hakim ordered them to scour the area, but nothing interesting was around. They inspected every single inch of the palace, even the most remote and difficult spots, but without results.

Frustrated and exhausted after spending most of the night trying to seek out for the intruder, Hakim made his way back into the palace, looking forward to strip out of his heavy armour. Looking any further would have been of no use. His men were tired and nervous, and so was he.

As he climbed the familiar staircase up towards his chamber, Hakim wondered how he would have explained the situation to the Sultan. An unknown man had broken into the palace to then disappear into thin air. It made no sense.

Lost in thought, the guard didn't even notice the vizier walking straight towards him. Holding his red cloak shut, Jafar had been observing their search from his room's window. Iago was nowhere to be seen, or else he would have sent him to help Hakim with whatever he was doing.

"What were you looking for, you and your guards?"

Slightly startled, Hakim laid his tired eyes on Jafar, who was standing straight a couple steps ahead of him. The younger man was looking at him dead in the eyes, holding tight his snake staff in one hand.

Frazzled, Hakim shook his head before answering. "I saw a man. He was following me down the hall, but when I spotted him he jumped out the window and he disappeared" he explained in one breath, surpassing the vizier to continue walking down the corridor without even looking back at Jafar.

The younger man rushed after him. "So you failed to catch him?"

Something about Jafar's words really bothered Hakim. He was already angry at himself for letting the intruder escape, the vizier's words weren't of any help.

"I've worked hard and I'm tired, if I may". The guard pronounced the last few words slowly, with a hint of bitterness.

"Of course"

Hakim stopped walking, an hassled look on his face. "Are you trying to get on my nerves Jafar?"

"I was just stating a fact"

Hakim closed his eyes for a moment. Jafar, for some undefined reason, was trying his best to make him fly off the handle. "Why don't you just go back in your room?"

"I'd say you're a little touchy tonight" Jafar stated in response, frowning.

"Look who's talking. You're always full of witty retorts, aren't you?" Hakim harshly mocked him. The vizier was able of being impossible sometimes, but Hakim liked him that way. He appreciated his honesty, he valued his ability of saying things directly and not through stupid word games. Hakim never looked for comfort words. He had always preferred a grim reality rather than falsehood and mendacity.

Two big torched were hanged to the sidewalls of the corridor, casting weird elongated shadows on Jafar's face. The vizier had the weirdest expression on his face, a combination of sadness, pride and something else Hakim couldn't really grasp.

"Goodnight Jafar" the guard finally said, cutting short their unwholesome conversation which had all the earmarks to turn into an argument. Enough was enough. He didn't want to get into a quarrel with the vizier. Turning his back at him, he continued walking towards his room.

"You would have never let him get away" Jafar's faint voice echoed from the rear. He was staring at Hakim with a frightening intensity, as if the guard was missing an essential piece of the puzzle he, instead, had already sorted out. "You're too smart for that Hakim"

"So what?" Hakim was too tired to discuss. He wanted to get rid of his heavy metal armour which felt like a huge rock on his shoulders, and he needed to lay down and rest his eyes for a while.

"So, do you really think that the hooded man you saw just... disappeared into thin air?" the vizier inquired.

"I don't". Hakim felt like something strange had happened that evening, but his tired brain wasn't functioning to the fullest.

Jafar, as always, seemed to read his mind. Approaching the guard with light steps, the vizier rested the snake staff against the wall before starting to untie the back of Hakim's cloth. With his elegant long fingers he continued to work with the numerous armour's buckles and ties until the metal piece didn't slip out of Hakim's body.

With a sigh of relief, the guard stretched his spine before continuing his sentence.

"But so it seems. We looked everywhere. The man had a limp, he couldn't have gotten far so quickly". Hakim paused, shrugging his shoulders before continuing to wonder out loud. "The guards at the main entrance never saw anyone leaving the Palace" the older man explained, holding his arms on his hips as he mentally reviewed the troubling inexplicable events.

Jafar raised an eyebrow, tilting his head on one side as he lightly bit his lip. Before speaking, he took a careful look around the corridor to make sure no one was eavesdropping their conversation. Leaning towards Hakim, he lowered his voice. "Have you checked for any limping man in our dear guest rooms?"

Hakim snorted, letting go of a nervous laugh. He knew precisely what the vizier was insinuating, and he couldn't blame him. Prince Naji and his entourage seemed sketchier day by day. Hakim believed the princess had refused him with her usual firmness, but for some reason they were still well accepted in the palace.

The guard knew that what he was about to say would have upset the vizier. "You know that is not possible. I don't have that authority" Hakim said, shaking his head as he looked at Jafar's resented face.

"I am the grand vizier and I give you the permission to do so" Jafar's clenched fists failed to hide his nervousness, as well as his falsely controlled voice tone.

Hakim pronounced his next words with caution, as futile as caution would have been with the vizier. "I need the sultan's permission to do so, Jafar"

The younger man took a deep breath, clenching his fists until he felt the fingernails sticking in the palm of his hands in order to control his reaction. He believed to be ready to abandon his quest for power, he believed to have accepted the condemnation of remaining an eternal second, but those moments really put him to the test.

"Well you'd better go and ask your Sultan then, if you care about the Palace".

That was all Jafar was able to mutter through gritted teeth before quickly moving away from Hakim, leaving the guard without any chance to reply.

Hakim had expected such a reaction, but he wasn't willing to stop putting Jafar face to face with the reality. He owed him that. Shaking his head for the umpteenth time that night, Hakim finally made his way towards his room, closing the heavy woody door behind him. Staring at the dark ceiling, as exhausted as he was, he couldn't sleep.

He passed the night turning in bed, counting the time left until morning.

Chapter Text

The next morning

With firm steps, Jasmine was scurrying across the corridor, her elegant turquois dress lightly fluttering behind her back.
Her watery eyes were fixed on the white polished marble floor as she hastened towards her father's office room.
Trying to ignore the wave of distress and disgust which was trying to get the jump on her, she put a strand of ebony hair behind her ear before knocking on the heavily decorated doorway, waiting for the Sultan's consent before entering the room.
After a short while, someone opened the door.
The vizier's tall figure was standing in front of her, his hand still on the handle, a questioning look on his face enhanced by a raised eyebrow.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
The princess wasn't expecting him to be with the sultan that early in the morning, but she acted unimpressed.
She stared back at him with her head held proudly high, trying her best to cover up the flood of negative emotions which threatened to overwhelm her.
After what felt like forever, Jasmine smirked.
"Are you going to let me in?" She finally asked sarcastically, crossing her arms as she challengingly gazed at the vizier who was still standing motionless on the doorstep.
Nodding, Jafar quickly step aside, heading back towards the desk where he had been pushing papers since dawn's first lights.
The princess closed the door behind her before following him, hesitating before turning to her father. She coughed a couple times to clear her throat.

"Father" she started with an icy cold tone of voice and a gaze full of resentment towards the men in front of her who, despite their education, kept dictating centuries old and senseless policies, ruining her life and blocking any advancement amongst the current misogynistic society.
"I must speak with you".

The Sultan lifted his tired eyes on her, closing with a thud the heavy book he was studying and moving it to one side of the table. He leaned over his elegant desk, devoting all his attention to his daughter.
"What's wrong, Jasmine?" He asked, frowning at the sight of the princess making such a shattered appearance.

With a lump in her throat, Jasmine wondered which words she could have used to explain the disgust that was eating her away.
She closed her eyes for a second in an attempt to organize the mess in her head. She intended to put out her best speech in an effort to communicate effectively the injustice she was experiencing since prince Naji had come to the Palace.
From where did she intend to start?
Maybe the first thing she wanted to describe was the look of pure hatred which she recognised through his beady menacing eyes every time he looked at her.
Or maybe she wanted to start from the humiliating comments he kept making on her physical appearance, which were far beyond compliments, sounding more like an animal drooling over his prey.
But most of all, she was worried about the lust for power prince Naji never bothered to hide.
He only wanted to get drunk on power, he was the kind of man who would have let his own people die of hunger just for the sake of expanding his own territories, just to get some stupid form of respect. Jasmine was not naive, she knew how dark and deep the hole of greed was, and she had recognised that deepness in Naji's dark threatening eyes, in the way he gazed at the palace's gold and treasures.
Naji looked at the Sultan's richness as if he was willing to slice open his throat just to touch them, just to be a step closer to the universal wealth and empowerment he was so desperate for.
The soothing voice he always pulled out, the fake good manners he flaunted were not enough to fool her. They just made him more slimy and unpleasant.

While the princess was organizing her thoughts, a weird silence had fallen over the room.
"Is it about prince Naji?" The Sultan finally asked, breaking the muffled atmosphere and encouraging her daughter to speak.
Comfortably seated on his velvety chair next to the sultan, Jafar had been trying all along to go unnoticed, keeping a big piece of paper raised in front of his face and pretending to be immersed into reading.
He hated meddling into family affairs, and even after all those years he still considered himself as an invader of the royal household privacy.
However, as soon as he heard the name of the prince who was haunting him even in his sleep he choked on the mint tea he was nonchalantly sipping.

Patting the vizier on the back to help him catch his breath, the Sultan gazed at her daughter, still encouraging her to start her speech.
The princess looked back at him, wondering if it was wise to speak about such a delicate topic in front of Jafar.
The vizier had never been the most understanding person, but at least he wasn't a monster. He rarely showed signs of affection for anyone, but Jasmine knew he cared about the Sultan, and she had also noticed his close friendship with Hakim.
On the other hand, the prince was cold and calculating, he didn't care about anything or anyone.
She preferred being mistreated by the vizier rather than being falsely praised by the gross cheesy voice of Naji.
At least Jafar was honest.
At the end of the day, Jasmine knew she couldn't waste that opportunity to blow off some steam, before it was too late.
Holding her mother's bracelet tight in her hand, Jasmine finally uttered aloud the words she so feared.

"Baba, I see nothing but wickedness in his eyes. He only wishes power for himself. He approves violence, hatred and tyranny".
Jasmine paused, glancing at Jafar's reddened face, wondering how on earth had he managed to choke on tea himself.
She was just hoping they'd take her seriously. Not merely her life, but the future of Agrabah depended on their decisions.

"How can you be so sure? You have only known him for a few days" the Sultan remarked, nervously tapping his fingers on the desk.

Jasmine's grip on the bracelet became even stronger.
She bit her lip, feeling the heart racing in her chest.
"True. But do you remember what mother always said?"
Jasmine paused.
Her mother would have never stopped fighting for the truth. She would have fought to the last against injustice and evil, at all costs.
Jasmine was sure her father would have done that as well, because behind the wall of grief he had built around himself there was still a good and brave man.
That's what gave her the courage to finish her sentence.
"She always said that eyes, without speaking, confess the secret of the heart. And when I look at him in the eyes...I only see greed, and lust for power. I will never allow him to become Agrabah's leader!"
Jasmine's wet eyes were severely fixed on her father with fury and determination.
If he intended to punish her for yelling, she would have accepted any sentence. But nothing could have ever stopped her from opposing to any treat against her beloved Agrabah.

"Jasmine, you know I won't live forever"
Sultan Hamed explained, looking more tired than ever. His dark eyes seemed clouded by a veil of concern as he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.
Leaning against the chair's backrest he grabbed his cup of tea, sipping it slowly and considering his daughter's warnings.
Hamed knew her daughter was a smart, capable girl, just like her mother.
She hardly ever complained, and when she did she always had a good cause.
For this reason, he would have pondered Jasmine's words carefully.

"Father, that's why we can't leave the kingdom in the hands of such an incompetent!"
Jasmine's mouth felt dry, and her hands were shaking in anger.
With a clenched jaw she rested her accusatory gaze on the two men seated on their desk in front of her.

"I want your opinion, Jafar" the Sultan declared, turning towards him and waiting for him to talk.
Jafar wasn't expecting to find himself implicated in the bickering between the Sultan and his daughter, but he played it cool.
Shrugging, he put on his most innocent expression.

"My Sultan, we can't reject him just because...the princess sees something in his eyes".
His mellifluous words echoed in the room like a condemnation.
He didn't even recognise his own voice, it felt as if some spineless crazy man had taken over him.
Those words burned, Jafar knew that Jasmine's gut feelings were correct, but he was not going to prove her right so easily.
Arrogance? Pride? Stupidity? Probably all three. That's what Hakim would have said.

"Jafar's right, you see Jasmine?" Hamed immediately took the opportunity to try and explain himself.
"And since when is Jafar's opinion more important than yours?" Jasmine hollered back furiously, her face turning red.
The Sultan became serious, launching a severe gaze in her daughter's direction.
"Jafar's opinion is just as important as mine" he replied.
"Then why don't you name him sultan already? That's what he wants, isn't it, Jafar?"
Jasmine was furious. Everything seemed so unfair, especially the way in which men always felt entitled to take decisions over her life.
The vizier frowned before opening his mouth to formulate a bitter comeback, but the deep sultan's voice stopped him.
"Stop fighting"
Hamed sprang to his feet, pushing back his elegant golden chair and reproachfully looking at both his daughter and the vizier.

"Jasmine, I will consider your words. Now you shall go and get ready. The day is still long".

Silence fell over the room.
After a short while, with a sickened expression on her face Jasmine turned on her heels and walked away, avoiding the pleasantries and not even saluting. Her lack of respect would have had repercussions, but she didn't care.
Rage was flowing through her like lava, burning from within.
No man should have had the power to decide over her life, yet just a stupid sentence from the vizier was enough to drop all of her accusations against Naji.

She should have listened to Dalia, she should have accepted everything unquestioningly. Her life would be way easier that way.
But the memory of her mother, of the pride in her kind yet meaningful eyes always pushed her to stand up for her own rights.
Moreover, her life was not important when faced with Agrabah's future. Her mission was to defend it, and she would have done it at all costs.
She kept walking through the cold corridors, slamming her feet on the marble floor. Suddenly, light footsteps echoed behind her.

"Why are you so angry, princess?"
Jasmine froze in the middle of the corridor.
That wasn't the prince's voice. It was Jafar's.
The vizier had followed her down the hallway and he was standing behind her, his snake staff in his hand and a sardonic half smile plastered on his face.

The sight of the sarcastic expression made Jasmine feel even angrier and powerless at the same time.

"I'm sure you can work it out for yourself, since you're so smart".
Jasmine just wanted to lock herself in her room and let off steam before facing a new day filled with falsehood and servility.

Jafar chuckled, lightly shaking his head.
"You're angry because you have no lines in this play" Jafar affirmed in slow and measured tone, lowering his voice almost in a whisper.
"If no one chases out that prince, you will be forced to marry him, and the situation will be... unpleasant?" The vizier added, fiddling with a ring as he spoke.

"You find that amusing?"
Jasmine muttered between clenched teeth, trying to hold on to her wrath.

"No"

Everything froze around them.
Did Jasmine hear right? Was it just a product of her stressed mind?
She just stared at the vizier, studying every single expression to try and figure out if he was just teasing her.
Did he mean what he said?
The single word, the two letters he had pronounced under his breath could have completely changed her situation and Agrabah's future.
Was she ready to trust the vizier?

"Jafar, this is no joking matter".
Jasmine looked at him severely, peering at him from head to toe as she expected him to laugh at her at any moment.
But Jafar never laughed. Instead, he let a sigh slip away.

"You think I'd run away from the Sultan just to make fun of you? You're really as braggy as they say".
Jafar crossed his arms, a sarcastic smile on his face.
Jasmine immediately felt as if a huge weight was lifted from her back. She was not alone. She wasn't crazy. Jafar had seen it as well. He had seen the mischievous glint behind Naji's falsely polite eyes, he had noticed the maniacal way in which the prince acted each time he saw the sultan's throne.

The Vizier lowered the tone of his voice, carefully looking around to spot any anomaly.
"That man is dangerous, princess. You're not daydreaming, for once".
Jafar continued to tease her, but she didn't care. The only important thing was his support.

"Thankfully someone else in here has a tiny bit of brain left" Jasmine mocked him back, chuckling.

"Well, if you had a tiny bit of brain left you'd know that...the corridor is not the best place to talk about such sensitive topics" Jafar stated, throwing a reproachful gaze in her direction.
"And the Sultan is waiting for me. We will discuss that later" he concluded, facing away from her, moving back with slow steps towards Sultan Hamed's office.

Back in the sultan's office, as painful as it could have been, Jafar let his mind wander freely.

Of course Naji was dangerous. He knew about the lamp. No good men knew about it, because nothing but lust could lead a man to desire such a magic object.
Jafar had never considered himself as a good man, but he wouldn't have left the princess alone to face such a malicious individual.
He wasn't fully aware of the reasons behind his own behaviour, but in some inexplicable hidden way he cared about the princess, he cared about the sultan, and he would have done anything in his power to defend them, even though he was not ready to admit that to himself.
He didn't believe to be prepared to confess that maybe, after all that time, he was ready to forgive the sultan for letting him stay in prison for five years. Maybe it was time to face the truth, to admit that it wasn't Hamed's fault. If the sultan could have helped him, he would have surely done it.
Maybe Jafar was ready to admit that there was no one to forgive, because it was no one's fault. But in that case, all the anger and all the resentment to which he had clung would have disappeared, and he would have remained with nothing but numbness.
Rage had kept him alive all those years, and now he was scared to let it go. He was scared that by letting it go he would have remained with nothing else but darkness.
But that wasn't true.
Something inside of him was burning brighter than his anger.
It was a strange but pleasant warmth which was slowly replacing the resentment, a feeling which was fed by a particular person.

Hakim could have made him as angry as he wanted, he could have spit in his face all the truths of the world, nothing would have been able to change Jafar's heart. Nothing would have stopped the Vizier from loving Hakim, and that realization hit him hard while he was reading for the hundredth time that old mapping of the city.
Dropping the heavy parchment paper on the Sultan's desk, Jafar closed his eyes for a couple seconds, trying his best to process the thought which had just crossed his mind.
Did he mean it?
He bit his lips, trying to recall the warmth that Hakim had gave him the other night. He realized he wanted more.
Did the guard feel the same towards him? He probably didn't.
But Jafar would have hold on to that warmth as long as his own mind would have allowed it.

Chapter Text

Hey guys, I'm just curious. Would anyone still read this if I added a chapter?
Quarantine gave me come free time :)) let me know! And sorry for the absence, uni is destroying me.