Archive of Our Own

"Zayn, please - try and understand, jaan. Prince Joseph - "

Zayn rolls his eyes as he stalks away from the wide corridor, making a beeline back to his chambers. He knows that he probably looks like the stereotypical bratty prince that everyone assumes that he is, but this is the one issue that Zayn refuses to budge an inch for. 

The law in his kingdom is that at age eighteen, Zayn is to inherit the throne unofficially as he learns to lead under his father's guidance. It's only after the natural death of his father that Zayn is going to be the Sultan of Agrabah, and as far as he's concerned he's more than okay with that title being pushed as far into the future as possible.

Which brings him back to the main issue at hand. The law in his kingdom also states that Zayn needs to be married. By his eighteenth birthday. In two months.

And all his suitors are twats. 

He slams the door shut so hard, the heavy, woven curtains leading to his large balcony flutter and Rajah shocks out of his slumber near Zayn's divan. Rajah is the last memory Zayn has of his mother - she loved that tiger to death and back, nursed it back to health after finding it on a hunting trip in Bengal, claiming she'd rather have a pet than its skins. Yaser never could refuse his queen anything, and Zayn knows that his birthday - and her death day - is the most bittersweet occasion his father faces.

Rajah purrs loudly, rubbing up against Zayn's legs and hips. Zayn's temper drops instantly, his whole body relaxing from the tense way it was set before. "Hi babe," he whispers, "Sorry I woke you."

Rajah sits back on his hind legs and butts up against Zayn's arm until Zayn huffs, "I wake you once and you want another half-hour belly rub?" The little shit growls out what Zayn assumes is a yes. Zayn rolls his eyes, "Well lie back down then, let's get my mind off of my dear baba."

_________

His usual servant boy doesn't come to wake Zayn the next morning so he's already irritable, head cottony with too much sleep. Rajah's useless, lazier than any house cat Zayn's ever seen. Besides, the servant was supposed to bring in the latest news from the market and as much as it pains him to say it, Zayn's never been outside the palace walls. Not even a company of a hundred guards would ease Yaser into ever letting his precious son out of his sight.

Zayn understands that it's for his safety, he really does. But it's also a little ridiculous; he's not going to die from one outing. How does anybody expect him to be Sultan if he's never even seen his kingdom, met his people?

He sighs, swinging a leg over the edge of his balcony and lets the suffocating afternoon heat soak his tunic in sweat. Rajah whines lowly at the weather before slinking back into the marbled coolness of Zayn's spacious bedroom. The kingdom is vast and beautiful - or so they say - it stretches out so far that Zayn can't see the end, the people as tiny as ants from where Zayn can see them bustling about their lives.

He wonders what that's like - being free to live however one wished.

Zayn has a responsibility to his people - he needs to get married, rule, and have an heir. He's a prince, there's not exactly room for his own life. He's not allowed to sit around all day to paint and write - Zayn's not an artisan. There are always more pressing matters to attend to.

Suddenly, the door to his chambers opens and there's low growling that Zayn recognizes as Rajah, followed closely by his father's voice, "Down Rajah, I just want to speak to - Rajah! Down!" There's the sound of a loud scuffle and Zayn smothers a laugh. He needs to make sure Rajah gets some extra meat from the kitchen as a reward.

"Zayn! Call your pet off!" His father sounds winded and wheezy so Zayn makes his way back into his room. The sight that greets him immediately makes him laugh and his father scowls up at him, "Tell Rajah to get down."

Rajah yelps and straightens out. He's perched on Sultan Yaser's chest by the edge of Zayn's bed. He looks so proud of himself that Zayn can't help but reach over to nuzzle him, throwing his arms around Rajah's neck. "Can't attack my baba, sweetheart. Some people might call that treason."

"Zayn."

Zayn sighs and leads Rajah off of his father's chest. The tiger trots happily behind Zayn, close at his heels as he leads it back towards his divan, hopping up on it so Rajah could collapse in a cloud of fur in his lap.

Yaser straightens his crown and robes before he makes his way across the room to scratch at Rajah's ears. He gives Zayn a wry smile, "He takes to you - just the way he took to your mother. Then again, you're so much like her."

Zayn swallows back the sudden lump in his throat, "Did you want something?"

"Jaan," (and Zayn already knows what's coming) Yaser says as he takes a seat at the far end of the divan, "You have to pick a suitor. You can't keep turning down every man that asks for your hand."

Zayn clenches his jaw and Rajah is up immediately, ears alert as he looks for any sort of threat. And God Zayn loves the pile of lazy cat in his arms, "If I'm going to spend the rest of my life with this man, then I really do think that I should at least like him."

Yaser gives him a hard look, "What was wrong with Joseph then? He was wealthy, good-looking, and he took an interest in your crafts. You were needlessly cruel with him."

Zayn smiles at the way Rajah stiffens at Joseph's name. "He didn't like tigers," he mutters, running a hand through the thick fur on Rajah's back, "Deal breaker, baba."

Yaser gives him an incredulous look and Zayn bites his tongue as his father stands abruptly, "Do you think this is some kind of a joke, Zayn?"

"No - "

"Because the law states you need to be married in exactly two months and I won't have you prancing about, making this out to be one of your little games." He opens his mouth as if he continue, but instead Yaser pinches the bridge of his nose, pulling the crown off of his head. "Zayn," he sounds defeated, aged, and Zayn squirms uneasily, "Jaan, I'm getting old and I'm not going to be here forever - "

"Baba - "

"No. Zayn, listen closely," Yaser insists, stern man returning as he replaces his crown, "I need to be sure that you're happy and taken care of - even when I'm not around."

Zayn makes a frustrated noise, "I can take care of myself - if you'd let me, that is, yeah. I don't need some pompous asshole strutting around here, ordering me around."

It's the wrong thing to say.

"You don't know the first thing about responsibility," Yaser says, voice low and hard. Zayn shrinks back immediately, Rajah curling protectively around him, flicking his tail at the Sultan in annoyance. Yaser shakes his head then, softening his voice, "Zayn you're - you're a prince. You're my only child, Jaan - you've never been trained for war, you've never even been in the market. And say what you want, you do need someone here. If not for yourself, then at least for me and the law."

"I won't say yes to any of my suitors," Zayn mumbles in reply. He's said the same words so many times in the past few months that he's driving himself hoarse, "I'm not an object ready to be packaged and given away to the highest bidder."

"Zayn," Yaser's voice is hard, unyielding, and unlike anything Zayn's heard when it pertains to this topic, "Either you choose, Jaan, or I will make the decision for you."

Fuck, Zayn hates his life.

_________

Liam is sure nobody hates their life as much as he does.

He's the most clichéd underdog story without the happy ending that's supposed to follow - no parents, no family, no money, no nothing. He's been working at the same goddamn fruit stand since he discovered a hidden grove behind the building he slept on top of. It was probably privately owned - what with all the lush vegetation and the plump fruits, but as long as Liam didn't get caught, there was no real way for anyone to say anything.

Besides, all he took was enough to feed himself and a few to sell in his rundown, usually overlooked food cart in the middle of the bazar. Not enough to be noticed. But, it was enough to make sure that there weren't too many holes in his tunic or trousers, kept a pair of shoes on his feet, and he was able to pull enough to buy blanket so sleep in.

Liam knows he should be grateful, that there are plenty of people worse off than him, but he can't help but wish for more. He thinks it'd be nice to be waited on hand and foot, servants at his beck and call, wine and lavish feasts - but it's all just daydreams. Not feasible, and honestly, a little greedy.

"Excuse me?"

The Friday afternoon sun is baking the entire bazar, which is filled to the brim as shoppers run through to get all they need before everything shuts down for the weekend. In fact, it's so busy that it takes Liam a couple seconds to place the voice to a face.

"Yes?" Liam mutters, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He's a little uneasy, because the figure off to the right of his cart is fully cloaked, head and face completely covered save for a slit for the eyes. To keep hidden? Liam puts a hand on the knife in his back pocket, "Is there anything I can get you? 

The figure hesitates and reaches for one of the two guavas at the edge of Liam's stand. Liam watches closely, noticing the gold and silver rings that lavish a set of soft looking hands, free of all callouses - hands that have probably never seen a day's work.

A twist of jealousy rises up that Liam has to force down. "Just that?" he asks, struggling to keep his voice steady.

The stranger hesitates, and then reaches for an apple, sliding the both into a small satchel hanging at his waist, "That is all."

Liam nods, perplexed, "That'll be three drachmas for the apple and four for the apple."

The stranger cocks his head, "Drachmas?" His voice is soft like his hands, so Liam lets his guard down. Clearly the man isn't capable of robbing him - and even if he did, what would he even take?

Liam smiles, "I take Dinari too, if you would prefer that?"

The stranger makes a confused noise, "I - I do not understand. What do you want from me?"

"Payment?" Liam says quizzically. The sun's getting worse and the way the sand's rising up in the east is worrying. A sandstorm is definitely on its way and Liam needs to get up to his rooftop cavern to cover the cracks and holes in his walls before it hits. "Anything is fine, sir, but I need to be on my way, so quickly please." 

The clothed figure hesitates again, "I have nothing."

"You - " Liam furrows his eyebrows. There's no way the man was poor - the rings on his fingers, the way his hands looked, the elegant craft of his robes. Liam was dealing with a noble, or at least he was pretty sure he is. "What?"

The stranger nods then and reaches down to pull off one of the silver rings on his fingers. He holds it out to Liam, "Will this be enough? I don't understand what you're asking me for."

And fuck if Liam isn't tempted. An apple and a guava for a ring that looks completely handcrafted with an emerald stone set into the delicate carving. He could probably live comfortably for a few months on an item like that.

But, he swallows down the want, "That's a bit much for two fruits don't you think?"

"Oh," The hand retreats momentarily. But then the stranger shakes his head, thrusting the ring back in Liam's direction, "I have nothing else. Unless you'd prefer one made of gold?"

Liam chokes, "No. Um. That's alright." The sand's getting stronger and people are clearing out of the bazaar. He needs to get home - and take cover, "You know what. Keep it - it's just two pieces of fruit. I'd rather let you take them than be caught in a storm."

"But it wouldn't be right," the man insists. Then after a pause, "Storm?"

Liam points to the eastern sky, already in the midst of packing up his measly items, "Sand storm. And it looks like it'll come down hard. You might want to take cover."

The stranger looks down at his feet, but he doesn't move, even when Liam's done throwing all his fruits in his bag, shoving his box/make-shift cart under the other heavier ones that have been built to withstand storms. Liam gives him a tight smile and goes to side-step him, when -

"I have nowhere to go."

Liam pauses and turns back to the lone figure, draped in the foreground of the abandoned bazaar, "I'm sorry." He hesitates, wishing for the first time he could see the man's face to convince himself that what he was going to do wasn't outlandishly dangerous, "Would you - um. Would you like to come with me? I have a place where we can wait it out if you wish?"

The cloaked figure nods, "Yes, please. Lead the way."

And fuck this person is so naive - and now that Liam thinks about it - probably very young. There's a part of him that's extremely glad that the stranger decided to stop at his cart, because he as no doubt that anywhere else he would have been savagely taken advantage of. He wants to ask, wants to ask where his person comes from that he doesn't need basic survival skills, but it's not really the right moment. What with the wind roaring above, getting closer.

So instead, he just nods, "Follow me."

_________

They reach Liam's hovel, the rooftop storage room of a building that was supposed to be remodeled but was left for the mice. The walls are crumbling in, filthy and dusty on the outside, but decent enough on the inside. It's got a spectacular view of the palace though, when there's no sand blocking everything in sight. 

The stranger's followed him silently and when Liam holds the door open for him, he only hesitates a moment. Liam takes his time however, setting up sand bags to cover any openings where the sandstorm could take a hit, before making his way indoors. By now, the wind is so strong that it slams the door shut behind Liam, pushing him inside and bathing him in darkness.

"Oh," he muttered, "Sorry - here. Let me light a candle." Liam's actually been saving those candles in case of something, but he guesses this is probably the most exciting thing that'll ever happen to him. Most people don't want anything to do with him.

The flickering light illuminates the small room faintly, and for a moment, Liam is ashamed. That this small room of measly, broken trinkets is what he's got to show for a full seventeen years of life. "Sorry," he says then, "It's not much - probably nothing - but it's only temporary. Someday," Liam smiles twistedly, "I'm going to live in a palace, yeah. This is just. You know, a stop on the road." 

The stranger laughs a little from where he's crowded in the far corner and Liam watches with baited breath as he reaches up to pull off his hood. And it's - a noble boy, like Liam expected. But, when he smiles up at Liam shyly, his stomach seems to fall straight through the building. The boy is all sharp cheekbones, beautifully crafted collarbones, deep eyes, long lashes, and a soft mouth. His hair rises in dark tufts, clean from the sand because of the cloth, and it's as if his bones are made from china and glass.

Liam's aching to touch then, just to see if the creature sitting in front of him is real or a figment of his imagination, but then he remembers his own appearance. Dirty tunic, trousers that have been sowed over one too many times, and his hair, overgrown curls littered with dust and dirt. The boy was meant for a prince, and Liam's nowhere close.

"Hello?" 

Liam swallows his tongue, "Hi. Erm. I'm - um - Liam." And this is why Liam doesn't talk to people.

The boy laughs and he looks - endeared - "Zayn," he says softly. Doesn't offer up anything else until Liam prompts him.

"So what brings you here?" He gestures wildly at his hole in the wall, "I mean, clearly you can go elsewhere - "

"I can't," Zayn says, eyes severe in the firelight, "I've nowhere to go at the moment."

Liam raises his eyebrows, "But you're clearly a noble - you've lots of money. I mean, your rings and -" he falls silent at the uncomfortable way Zayn is twisting. 

"My father," Zayn begins slowly, clearly filtering his words, "Wants me to get married in two months. It's for - business."

Liam bites his lip, "I'm sorry. I can't say I know what that's like."

Zayn looks around his room with a wry smile, "Do you get to do whatever you want then?"

"For the most part," Liam nods, "But it'd be nice you know. To have someone tell you what's best for you - means they'd care, right?"

Zayn shrugs, "If that's what you're after."

_________

Liam ends up handing Zayn most of his blankets, insisting that he's got more when he really hasn't. So instead, he stays up patching one of the remaining ones until Zayn drifts off and then huddles under it, trying to keep warm. Because even if this was Agrabah, the nights tended to get chilly and Liam didn't have fire or gas to keep him warm.

He sleeps fitfully, and only begins to properly doze off after the sun's risen, but by then, Zayn's nudging him awake, holding out the apple and guava he took from Liam before. "Which would you like?"

Liam sits up blearily and Zayn frowns, "Did you not sleep?"

"I'm alright," Liam says. It's strange - to have someone ask about his wellbeing and fuss over him. It's actually kind of lovely. "And um - whichever you don't want. I don't really have anything I don't like to eat. Can't afford that kind of thinking."

Zayn blinks at him at that, "Oh." He sounds pensive, dropping the apple in Liam's hand, "I'm sorry."

Liam shrugs, "Nothing to be sorry about. Just the hand life's dealt me - for now that is." He stretches up and looks around. The blankets he's given Zayn are neatly folded and set back on the shelf Liam had pulled them from the night before. "Anyway, I don't have market today - do you. Um. Do you need any help?"

"What?" Zayn looks confused, "Help with what?"

Liam shakes his head in incredulity, "With where you'll live. What you'll do. You'll have to earn your living - the rings will only get you by for so long. Do you know anybody that would be willing to take you in for a while?"

"I - " Zayn looks lost, "I know nobody. Except for you that is. I  - didn't get out much, before."

Liam swallows. Zayn looks stunning the early morning sunlight peeking through the cracks, throwing sunrays on the floor. "Zayn," he says slowly.

Zayn holds up a hand, "I know," he says fiercely, "But I'll figure it out - if you're willing to help me. I can - " he looks up at Liam, desperately, "I can reward you if you do." 

And - okay - fuck that, Liam can have basic human decency. He doesn't know anything about Zayn's past, "No. No, Zayn that won't be necessary. Let's just - let's just go down to the broker's shop and see much those rings are worth, yeah. I don't need anything." The words are rich coming form him.

Zayn bites his lips and his shine with an emotion Liam can't place, "Thank you, Liam, thank you."

_________

The streets are crawling with royal guards.

Liam looks around, confused and a little awed at all the finery even the palace guards seemed to sport. He turns to Zayn, who looks a little uneasy, walking with his head low, his garments once again covering his face like the way they did before. "What do you suppose is happening?"

Zayn shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe they're looking for something?"

"Must be something important then," Liam hums, noting the way the guards seem to be weaving into the Saturday street crowd, eyes roving intently at everyone's faces.

Zayn makes an irritated noise, "Where's the broker's shop?"

"Right up ahead," Liam points to the corner of the street they were currently walking along, "I've known Shahid all my life even though he's older than my grandfather - if I had one that is - but nothing gets past him. He'll probably know how much your rings are worth."

Zayn doesn't make any more conversation, just hunches his shoulders and speeds up his pace to the point where Liam almost has to jog to keep up with him. As they enter, Shahid, the shopkeeper, looks up from where he's bent over what appears to be an antique watch.

He smiles widely at Liam, eyes crinkling from old age, "Hello Liam. What can I do for you today?"

Liam nudges Zayn up, who hesitantly slips off his hood, and offers up three rings to Shahid. "I want to know how much these are worth."

Shahid takes them gently, turning the silver one Liam had held before over in his hands gently, "These are exquisitely crafted." He chances a look a look up at Zayn, "Where did you get these, boy?"

Zayn hesitates, "They're - they're in my family. Gift from my baba."

Liam sees the exact moment when something clicks in Shahid's face, but he can't tell what.

"My God," the old man gasps, shoving the rings back towards Zayn, "I cannot take these from you, I'll be strung up and hung for doing so."

Zayn takes them back quietly and Liam feels something nervous settle in his stomach. It's almost as if he's missing something - something he feels as though he should have figured out by now.

"But how much are they worth?" Zayn asks again, voice loud.

But it's not Shahid that answers Zayn, it's a gruff voice from behind Liam that mutters, "They're priceless."

Shahid bows low, his voice barely a whisper, "My lord, Sultan."

And Liam turns around, dumbstruck, forcing his knees to bend so he's kneeling, eyes kept firmly down as the gears in his head whirl. The wealth, the rings, the royal guards, the marriage in two months, Zayn - fuck, Prince Zayn. And now that he thinks about it, Liam's not exactly sure how he missed it.

"Hello son."

There's a tense silence and then Liam hears (he doesn't dare look up) Zayn let out a long sigh, "Hello baba."

The Sultan sounds tired, "Guards, escort Zayn back to the castle and arrest the boy in the corner."

And suddenly Zayn explodes, "No - baba - no Liam was just - "

But Sultan Yaser leaves no room for anything Zayn has to say, "Liam shall be taken to the dungeons to await a chance to explain."

And, yeah, maybe it's possible for Liam to hate his life some more.

_________

"Did you learn something, then?"

His father's voice is stern, has been so for the last two hours as Zayn's been lectured up and down on the severity of his actions. He clears his throat, "Yes. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It best not," Yaser says then. He sighs, "You are free to go, Zayn."

Zayn stands from where he's been sitting cross-legged in front of his father's throne. "Baba, just. Just one more thing - Liam. Where is Liam?"

Yaser furrows his brows, "Liam? The commoner from the marketplace?"

"Yes," Zayn keeps his eyes downcast, "I'd like to see him. Can I send for him?"

"Absolutely not," Yaser says then, and Zayn knows he's read something in his voice that Zayn's tried to keep hidden, "You don't need this kind of distraction right now."

Zayn opens his mouth in shock, "Baba - he. Fuck - at least let him go then. He did nothing wrong and you know that. It was all my idea, just. Please don't keep him locked up down there."

Yaser sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He gestures wearily for a guard, "See that the prisoner from yesterday - the boy, Liam - is released."

The guard nods curtly and goes to exit the room swiftly, but Zayn calls him back, twisting the silver and emerald ring off of his finger and dropping it into his palm, "This - give this to Liam. See that he has it. Make sure of it."

The guard nods again, "Yes, my lord."

Zayn cuts his father a sharp look and Yaser remains quiet as the guard exits the throne room, before turning back to his son, "You're going to send me into an early grave, you are."

_________

"The prince," Liam mutters into the dark. His arms are chained tightly above his head, only removed at meal times and if Liam needs to relieve himself. But the pain in his wrists is the last thing on his mind. "Imagine if I'd actually tried to court him - fuck -" The thought is so mortifying that Liam can't actually bear to entertain it.

The jail cell door is thrown open then and Liam frowns. He'd been fed just about an hour ago so there was no way that it was a meal, "Am I getting a hearing then?" He asks cautiously as the guard goes about removing his chains.

The guard grunts, "You're free to go actually - royal orders."

Liam's stomach swoops pathetically, "Thank you."

The guard shrugs, "Don't thank anyone yet," he says, and then drops something small and cold in his hands, "Prince says it's for you, yeah."

Liam holds the metal piece up to the faint sliver of light from the guard's torch, immediately recognizing the emerald stone set into silver. He swallows, "Why?"

"Search me if I know," the guard says, pulling Liam to his feet and leading him out of a dim corridor, "I'm just the messenger."

"Well, tell him I said thank you," Liam says, clutching the ring close. There's no way he can part with it now, not even for all the money in the world.

"Will do, Liam," the guard replies. His voice echoes eerily in the semi-darkness and Liam can hear a jingle of keys before he's being blinded by the sunlight pouring out of what he assumes is the exit. "He's a good one that Prince Zayn. Shame he's being thrown like cattle to all those men, but Yaser wants nobody but the best prince in the land for that boy."

And with those parting words, Liam's shoved outside as the door slams in his face, leaving him standing the sunlight, fingers curled tightly around Zayn's ring.

_________

The guard finds him at his midday meal, bowing to him, "He says thank you, my lord."

And Zayn nods, dismissing the guard absentmindedly as he thinks about Liam wearing the ring that's currently missing from his fingers - even for a short period of time. It's a nice memento he supposes, if he could call it that, of a time that he'll probably never get to experience again.

He doesn't get to think long however, because Rajah jumps on top of him for his afternoon nap, the lazy attention-seeking thing he is.

_________

It takes Liam two weeks to figure out that there's something living inside the ring.

Or, more accurately, a someone.

He's sitting outside his little dwelling, waiting for the sun to properly rise so he can make his way down to the grove. The ring's in his hands as he turns it over, watching it glint in the sunlight. Liam carries it with him at all times, can't bear the thought of losing it or having it stolen. Upon a closer look, there are engraved words that he can't quite make out on the inside of the band, and when he goes to rub it, the whole thing glows with a blinding light. When it fades, standing in front of him is a boy with ridiculous curls and a dimpled smile.                                         

It's all very dramatic. 

Liam backs away in shock, but the boy looks at him warmly, "Harry - at your service."

Liam blinks, "Did you just come out of the ring?"

"What?" Harry looks confused, but then spots the ring in Liam's hands, "Oh, yeah. The royal ring. But anyway, what would you like?"

Liam looks for his knife cautiously, making sure to keep the boy in his direct line of sight, "What do you mean?"

Harry studies him for a long moment and something seems to click in his mind. He smiles widely then, "You didn't mean to summon me did you?"

"I didn't summon anything," Liam replies defensively, "I just wanted to see what was written on the ring."

"Well then Liam, I'm sure you know the old stories," Harry's trying to sound grandly mysterious, and Liam's not sure how this is his life or how the boy-thing knows his name, "The genie in a bottle, the genie in a lamp, the genie in a ring..."

"You're a genie," Liam squints at the lanky boy standing in front of him. His clothing is fancy, hair immaculately curled and there's no way in hell that any of that is natural, "Aren't you supposed to be...more?"

Harry scoffs, "You're complaining about me when I'm willing to give you any three wishes you want? Well, almost any three - there're some restrictions but other than that - the world's yours mate."

Liam blinks. The genie speaks very slowly, he notices.

"Let's put it the simpler way," Harry sighs, conjuring up a cloud to lean on, a banana appearing in his hand (Holy fuck), "What'll it be, Master? What do you want more than anything in the world?"

At this point, Liam's fairly sure he's hallucinating, but as dreams come this is a pretty damn good one. He clears his throat, "It'd um - be nice to be able to make ends meet, you know." 

Harry's eyebrows disappear up into his ridiculous hair. He takes a large bite of the banana and Liam squirms, "You're asking for a modest daily salary and not like, I don't know, crown jewels bathed in dragon blood? What even are you?"

Liam shrugs, "I don't need all that - there's really no use. I'm not some noble or prince or..." And, oh, suddenly he bites his lip. Now, there's an idea.

Harry smirks almost as if he reads his mind, "Want to be a noble or a prince or something?"

"That'd be nice," Liam struggles to get the words out without the crushing embarrassment, but he can feel his face already heating up, "There's - um - there's this boy, okay. And he's the crown prince of Agrabah and we met by this gigantic fluke but he was. He's - " He trails off helplessly not sure if Harry needs that mildly explicit thought process.

Harry holds a hand up, "Say no more. You want to woo him, yeah. But you can't when you're not a prince, I know how that goes."

"You do?"

Harry rolls his eyes, "Course I do - don't you think I was in love once?"

"I'm not in love," Liam mutters, then the words actually sink in, "You were - human? Before this I mean?"

"Course," Harry dimples in thought, green eyes piercing into Liam. There's something unnerving about his posture - defensive maybe, "Give up your freedom and identity to save the love of your life and watch them run away with somebody else. Really leaves an impression."

Liam opens his mouth in shock, " 'm sorry." He looks down at Harry's wrists, notices the gold bracelets that look more like shackles than anything else, "Is there no way out then?"

Harry shrugs, "Someone would have to wish me out. With one of their precious wishes and well, you can guess how often that happens."

"I - " Liam bites his lip at the promise he's about to make. But if Harry's going to turn him into a prince and then grant him another wish on top of it, he's sure he can at least do this for him, "I'll do it. I'll set you free. After my first two wishes, I'll use my third one to get you out."

"Liam - "

"It's the least I could do," Liam assures him, "Trust me."

Harry blinks at him slowly before breaking into a wide smile. He looks like a kitten, young and smooth. Probably just around Liam's age and Liam's heart goes out to him, "You're a strange one," Harry tells him, "But I like you. Now, let's work on you - though you gotta say the words first."

Liam swallows, steeling his nerves, "Harry, make me a prince." He winces, "Please."

He figures Harry has to stop laughing first for that to happen though.

_________

"How about Leroy? Lamar? Ludwig - "

"Okay, now you're just taking the piss," Liam scowls, but he's kind of busy admiring himself in the magical mirror. Harry's turned his wild, dirty curls into this weird helmet-hair style that he was sure would look funny, but actually allows his face to be seen. His clothes are silky soft, not rubbing into his joints like sandpaper. He thinks he could really get used to this. 

"Lane, then? Rhymes with Zayn, doesn't it. Could be cute. Very romantic."

Liam gives him the finger and Harry topples over from where he's hanging upside down from Liam's crumbling ceiling. He catches himself in midair though, easily floating up next to Liam, though he can't be more than a few feet away from the ring at all times.

"Liam," Harry drawls, "You look great man. Just pick a goddamned name and we'll give you some transportation and a few accessories. And then you can parade in and sweep Prince Zayn off of his feet." 

Liam rolls his eyes, "How about just Li?"

Harry wrinkles his nose, "Li's a bit obvious don't you think? Let's make it Leo and then maybe Zayn can nickname you Lee - like Li but spelled differently?"

"Prince Leo," Liam squints at his reflection, "Sure that hasn't been done before?"

Harry shrugs, "Asking the wrong guy, mate. I just grant wishes. Though not gonna lie, it doesn't really suit you." 

"Have anything better, then?" Liam demands, turning around to face Harry. The mirror disappears behind him in a cloud of blue smoke.

Harry pretends to think for a second, "Nah. Besides, gotta move on to the fun part."

"The fun part?" Liam raises his eyebrows. 

Harry rubs his palms together and he almost looks maniac. Liam would've taken a step back, but there's nowhere really to go. His place is kind of - well, small. "Liam, when I said parade. I meant parade."

_________

"This is so fucking stupid," Liam grits through his teeth. He can't exactly stop smiling - everybody in Agrabah is waving at him from where they're lined up on the streets, cheering for the new prince (who is showing up uninvited, mind you) who's here as yet another suitor. He's already had palace guards shout at him that his elephants and lions and piles of gold wouldn't be enough for Zayn (they seem very fond of the prince in general, Liam's noticed). But if this isn't enough, Liam's honestly not sure what will be.

"Shut up," Harry mumbles. He's shrunk down to the size of a bee, sitting right above Liam's right ear, partially hidden by his hair, "Keep smiling. You need to make a good impression if you want Zayn."

"I had something else in mind when I thought good impression," Liam mutters back.

There's a swat at his temple and Liam winces. "You're a prince now. Princes are confident and likeable not awkward and moody - and they don't stutter. Remember how great Zayn was? You've got to be better if you want him."

Liam rolls his eyes, "I still don't understand why I couldn't have ridden a horse." The carpet bucks under him, reaching up to smack his ankle. "Not that the carpet isn't cool," he amends quickly, not wanting to offend anyone, "Just - maybe something a little more low-key?"

"Shut up," Harry repeats again, "We're going in the palace gates and it looks like you're talking to yourself. Don't want Zayn to think you're loopy already do we?"

Liam huffs loudly in response.

_________

Zayn watches this new prince Leo - or whatever the fuck his name is - distrustfully from behind a pillar in the corridor leading to the throne room. Rajah growls lowly from where he's crouched at Zayn's feet, ready to spring and Zayn reaches down to pat his head. "Don't worry," he whispers, "we'll find a way to get rid of him."

He sighs. Leo looks earnest and excited to be here. His father's throwing him an impromptu banquet to celebrate the new, rich and handsome suitor for Zayn. Yaser has his best interests at heart, Zayn knows, but he's going about this the wrong way.

He hears his name in the midst of their words and Zayn snaps back into attention.

"He'll love you," Yaser is saying, smiling. He catches Zayn's eye from across the vast hall and there's something mildly threatening in his eyes, "A fine fellow like you? Zayn won't be able to resist."

Zayn smirks back because his father may be the Sultan, but nobody tells him what to do. Yaser's eyes harden in response and Zayn can almost hear the words: He may be different Zayn. Let's give people a chance, shall we?

He watches the way Leo barely acknowledges or thanks the guards as he's led away to his specially prepared guest chambers and snorts. Different, his ass.

_________

The banquet is kind of a disaster. But only kind of.

Zayn is late and rumpled because Rajah had tugged at his robes, whining not to go because it obviously made Zayn unhappy. So, when he arrives, Leo is already seated across from his father and they're talking - probably about him, Zayn thinks miserably.

Yaser gives him a cutting glare at his appearance because he believes that anything less than immaculate is meant as an insult. Zayn just hopes that Leo shares his father's mentality and hopefully gets the message quickly.

"Jaan," Yaser smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, "We've been waiting for you to show up. Prince Leo here was getting worried he'd arrived for nothing." The warning is clear and Zayn sort of wants to laugh.

Zayn returns the smile and an onlooker could probably cut the tension in the air with a knife, "Baba. Prince Leo," he tilts his head in acknowledgement and Leo looks bewildered for a moment, like he's unsure of what to do.

Then he's nodding at Zayn quickly, "Hello," he mumbles, "Um - it's lovely to meet you."

Zayn gives him a flat look. False pretenses irritate him immensely. There's an aching then, for a boy with wild curls that was unflinchingly kind to him without knowing the title that his name carried. 

Yaser clears his throat loudly and scoots his chair back, "Well," he announces. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted - I've some important matters to discuss with my advisors over there."

Zayn watches him go carefully before taking a seat and facing Leo. Leo has warm brown eyes and neatly clipped hair, a smile that crinkles his eyes into little half-moons. He's pleasant to look at, handsome, strong, and young. He'd almost be nice if it isn't for the way he mutters to the servants about switching out his desert order because he doesn't fancy rose milk all that much. 

Zayn sends the servant an apologetic look and she smiles back quickly, ducking her head as she follows through with Leo's order.

Zayn clears his throat once she's gone. "We don't do that around here. The cooks work hard to prepare our food and we don't complain unless it's really an unavoidable issue." 

Leo looks stricken for a second, "Oh," he flushes, "I'm sorry.  I just - I'm so sorry."

Zayn squints at him for a second, taken aback at the reaction. Honestly, he'd been expecting the prince to get completely riled up, " 's okay," he mumbles then, "Just see that it doesn't happen again."

Leo nods quickly and the eager motion is strangely familiar, "I won't. Promise."

_________

Zayn stalks off early that night, excuses himself from everybody's presence in an effort to escape back into the solitude of his room. Maybe he could take Rajah out into the gardens tonight - that way he could effectively steer clear of Prince Leo for the rest of the night.

Rajah whines at him when Zayn sneaks him out, noting at Leo and his father are talking lowly in the throne room. Leo is making Yaser laugh and Zayn hasn't seen anybody but him do that before. It's a little unsettling.

Rajah growls lowly at Liam's far away figure before Zayn shushes him and leads him outside.

"He's not that bad," Zayn says then, aloud. He threads a reassuring hand through Rajah's fur. He really is just a large, stripped house cat. "Not the worst person to walk through here for sure. I just wish he was less - less, you know?"

Rajah blinks up at him slowly.

Zayn sighs, "Do you think this is the best offer I'll get?" He sits down in on the edge of one of the wide fountains in the area. The sun's sinking over the horizon, the sky blood red, as the last of the light disappears. It's calm and beautiful, but he feels absolutely sick.'

Rajah makes a low sound and butts up against Zayn's knee, curling at his feet and licking a stripe up his bare ankles. Zayn smiles down at him affectionately, "At least I'll always have you, yeah." Rajah purrs loudly in response. 

"I just hate the thought of settling," Zayn mumbles then, "And if I do, we'll both be trapped in something we don't want."

"How are you so sure?" 

Zayn closes his eyes in frustration. Rajah gets up in annoyance and stalks off into the shrubbery. "Never heard of basic courtesy, then? It's wrong to follow people around without their knowledge."

Leo comes up to stand next to him and he's - he's pretty if Zayn could say so lightly. Soft-spoken. A bit arrogant and condescending, maybe. Because the one thing Zayn's learned is that his suitors love to come in and treat him like the to-be-Sultan he is, while they turn around and treat his wait staff like shit. Baba says that it's an indication of they're going to act towards him someday. So far, Leo's fallen directly and cleanly into the stereotype - but he was willing to apologize. 

"I'm sorry," he mutters, making Zayn start again, "But I wasn't following you. Your father sent me out here to talk to you."

Zayn rolls his eyes.

"May I sit?"

"No."

"Oh," Leo says, "Okay. If that's what you wish. Just - can you give me a chance? I've - I've done quite a bit to be here."

"Yeah," Zayn drawls sarcastically, "Then how about you respect my decision to say no."

There's a long pause where Zayn thinks he might have actually taken this too far. Prince Leo's probably going to run off and tell the Sultan what Zayn said just like Joseph did and then Zayn's going to be in even deeper shit.

"I do respect your decision to say no," Leo says quietly and he comes up to stand in front of Zayn. His eyes are earnest and wild, but all Zayn can see is another boy's face in his mind, "I just - you won't even let me try. I'm not even sure why you're saying no."

Zayn raises an eyebrow, "Why I'm saying no? Look at me, I'm rich, I'm handsome, I'm every prince's walking dream - and why exactly are you here? Because all that appeals to you, right? I'd be perfect for you."

"You could be," Leo mutters softly, "I mean - I'm a prince and not some - some lowly commoner boy -"

Lighting courses through Zayn's veins and without even understanding what he's just done, he's shoving Leo back hard, almost making him splash into the fountain, "What? My baba tell you that story then? How I ran off to a common boy? Let me tell you something, your highness, that boy was twice the man you'll ever be, and I may not ever be able to see him again, but that won't stop me from screaming his name instead of yours if it ever goes there."

Leo blinks up at him in shock.

Zayn curses under his breath and stalks off towards the west wall of the castle.

_________

Liam stays where Zayn shoved him for a long time, his last words ricocheting in his head. There's sort of a sick feeling in his stomach though, leaving a bad taste in his mouth - Liam had tried so fucking hard to be a prince and all he's done is turn Zayn away from princes completely.

If Zayn found the old him more attractive than the new him, then what'd he even accomplished - he'd wasted a wish that's what. Maybe he was really in over his head this time. It's just that Zayn was so lovely back in his hovel, lovely and kind and gentle and beautiful and intriguing, leaving Liam wanting a taste of what lay underneath.

Harry makes a soft noise in his ear. He's small again, hiding in Liam's hair, "Well that went terribly."

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," Liam says miserably, "I've - He just doesn't want me here, does he?"

He feels Harry shrug, "Maybe you've gotta give it time you know? Like for him to warm up to you. Like, maybe you could take him out on your carpet or something? He seems kind of - trapped."

"Do you think that'd work?" He whispers, "He hates me."

"Worth a shot," Harry says sadly, "I've never seen someone so frustrated before - and trust me, Liam, I've seen a lot of people over the years."

Liam nods, scrambling to his feet, and jogging down the path that Zayn had taken. He finds the young prince at the far wall of the castle, gazing up at the newly heightened walls in thought. Liam's not sure what he's trying to do - get out probably.

Well, if that's what he wants, Liam would be happy to be of service.

He clears his throat loudly this time and watches as Zayn's shoulders droop in return. He swallows back the disappointment, "Zayn. D'you - Can I take you somewhere?"

Zayn tenses, "No."

Liam takes a step closer, "We could leave the castle."

And that gets Zayn's attention because he's turning around and facing Liam, eyebrows raised sardonically. But, despite his expression, Liam can see the want and excitement in his eyes. Zayn has beautiful eyes. But that's not really what his focus needs to be on right now. "Yeah," Zayn says, "How?"

Liam unrolls the carpet he's got attached to the sash around his trousers and lets it out, letting it zoom around in the air near Zayn for a second. Zayn eyes the thing distrustfully for a minute, but Liam can see the way his demeanor is slowly changing.

"Okay?"

Zayn swallows, "I'm afraid of heights."

Liam laughs lowly, stepping closer, "I'll be on it with you."

"That's not exactly reassuring," Zayn mumbles, but there's a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth so Liam counts it as a win.

 _________

 "What if we fall?" Zayn shouts, his voice carrying over the wind. He's got one hand tightly gripping the edge of the rug. Carpet just gives him a salute in return and Zayn scoffs. His other hand is tangled in Liam's tunic, holding on for dear life.

Liam leans forward, "You won't. Carpet won't let you," he sends Zayn a wide smile and for some reason, Zayn relaxes a little, "Trust me, I was the same way the first time I got on this thing."

"You don't seem to have had it for long."

Liam laughs loudly at that, feeling his stomach swoop because his dive was a little too deep. So yeah, maybe he doesn't really understand how to steer this thing quite yet. Zayn's knuckles almost turn white, "I haven't," he admits quietly, "Sort of got it to impress you." 

Zayn doesn't respond to his comment, instead asks Liam to fly over the city a little slower so he can see things. And when they fly over Liam's old home, he tries to avert his eyes as much as possible, watching the way a pensive look takes over Zayn's face. 

"What?" Liam can't help but ask - he sort of has to know. "Is this where you - ?"

Zayn nods quietly, "He's not in there now I assume." He holds on his hands where Liam can see them, hands still richly decorated in rings. "Gave him one of my rings. Probably sold it so he could get a better place - not like I can blame him for that."

"C'mon," Liam mutters - and he sort of doesn't want to know anymore, "There's this grove back here." He lands the carpet towards the back of the building, where the lush grove of fruits and vegetables still stands tall and green. It's a bit out of the way, hidden behind a crumbling building on the bad side of town, and hence abandoned. 

Zayn looks around quietly, but doesn't comment. He jumps off the carpet, reaching for a fruit off of the nearest guava tree. He looks down at it for a long time, then reaches out to hand it over to Liam. 

Liam takes it, smiling, "You like guavas?" 

"Yeah," Zayn says faintly, reaching for an apple, "Love them."

_________

To Liam, it's a start - or at least it is for Leo. 

He's still a little unsure as to whether Zayn likes him because he can get him out of the palace or if the emotion is actually genuine. Yaser seems thrilled though, says to Liam countless times that he's never seen Zayn like this with a suitor before, says Liam's gotten farther in a week than other had gotten in over a month. 

It makes Liam happy and sick all at once. Because Zayn's showing him his paintings and crafts now. Rajah only growls at him once before climbing hesitantly into his lap. But, Liam's still puts up a facade. It's picture-perfect-deceivingly happy and Liam wishes he could have this forever, but that wish is a bit out of even Harry's hands.

Harry's been a useless twat - keeps insisting that it's time that Liam just came out and told the truth before Zayn figured it out. Liam sends him back into the ring just for that remark and refuses to let him back out. 

Carpet's really starting to enjoy Zayn's company; follows him around more that Liam usually, especially after their nightly visits to the city and beyond. Sometimes Zayn looks at him so hard for so long that it makes Liam squirm in hope, but the look immediately diminishes when Liam tries to ask him if he's made a decision concerning Liam. (He's a little afraid of what that decision might mean in terms of coming clean, but Liam's an optimist if nothing else). 

"Hey Leo," Zayn says to him casually one night. They're walking back to the castle, shoulders brushing. 

"Yeah Zayn?" Liam replies, the name rolling casually off of Zayn's tongue making him cringe. 

Zayn stops then, turns stand in front of him, squinting hard into his eyes, "Do you enjoy being with me?" 

"Yes," Liam confesses honestly, "I - very much so, why?" 

Zayn smiles to himself quietly, "That's good. That's really, really good." 

"Oh," Liam blinks, "Okay."

_________ 

"So," Harry asks him one night. He's lounging on a puff of smoke above Liam's bed, "Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life with him?" 

Liam turns under the silky sheets, curling up on his side in an almost fetal position, "I think," he says quietly, "That if this works, then he's all that I'll want for a really, really long time to come." 

"Do you think he'd still want you if you weren't a prince?" 

Liam swallows back the feeling inadequacy written deep into his blood, "I'd want him if he wasn't a prince," he says softly, "Even if it meant the both of us crowding in my old hovel, hiding under the ratty blankets to keep warm. I think I'd be happy with just that, really, no matter how much I said I hated that place before." 

There's a long silence, and then Liam feels the bed dip next to him as Harry crawls under the sheets behind him, "That's really good," Harry whispers, "You're a good person, Liam. A really good person - nothing like the people I've met before." 

Liam turns then, looks into the emerald eyes that are child-like, innocent, light and thinks of the eons Harry's spent in that ring, "I'll free you," he promises fiercely, sliding the ring on his fingers and holding it in Harry's line of sight to emphasize his point, "I promise you, I'll free you." 

Harry dimples, wide and genuine, "Thank you."

_________ 

Yaser wakes him early the next morning and Zayn could not be more miserable if he'd tried. He'd been up late last night, mulling over what exactly was happening between him and Leo. Also, there was still the boy from the marketplace that kept popping into his mind at inappropriate times, though Zayn knew that he'd have to be forgotten sooner or later. 

The thing was, that boy - Liam - and Leo were so similar. They're rougher, more calloused exterior clashing harshly with the softer, sweeter demeanor that actually existed beneath. It was almost like they were putting on acts, not that Zayn could claim to understand why. But sometimes, they almost meld into the same person in his mind, the same soft look in their eyes even though Zayn's a bit unsure of Liam's eye color - what with it being so dark in the hovel. 

Either way, Leo (like Liam) makes Zayn happy and while there's no real love between them, Zayn can, for the first time, envision that a life waking up to Leo's kind brown eyes would not be completely terrible. 

When he finally manages to dress and meet Yaser down at the throne room, he's sure he's nearly twenty minutes late, and Leo is already present. He looks rumpled, rubbing his eyes as if he was not fully awake yet himself. Zayn has to bite down on the rush of fond laughter that erupts in his chest. 

Leo grins lopsidedly at him and Zayn laughs lightly in response. He's vaguely aware of how his father's regarding the two of them in obvious happiness and relief. 

"Zayn," Yaser clears his throat, "I don't mean to rush courtship but there's exactly one month until your birthday and - " 

"Yes," Zayn says then, astonishing both his father and himself - to an extent. Leo jumps in surprise next to him, and Zayn leans out a hand to steady him lightly by the elbow, "I accept." 

Yaser's mouth drops open and he rubs a hand across his forehead. "You," Yaser mumbles weakly. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply, "Praise the lord," he says around breathless laughter, "My son has finally chosen a suitor." 

But then Leo's pulling at Zayn's shoulders, "Zayn," he says urgently, "Zayn are you sure, because you don't have to - " 

Zayn shrugs him off, "I know what I'm doing," he says sharply. He needs to do this - his father's counting on him, he has a kingdom waiting for him, and Leo is, well, actually quite likeable when he bumbles around, clueless and endearing, so unlike the prince he's supposed to be. "As long as I'm not some sort of trophy - " 

"Zayn," Leo breaks in and he sounds sufficiently shocked. 

Zayn grins, confirmation complete, "It's settled then," he says, "I've said yes." 

Yaser nods and pulls him into a hug, reaching over his head to squeeze Leo's shoulder, "You're a good man," he tells him seriously and Zayn feels something rise in his throat for his father, "I can tell you're going to be good to my jaan - but if you're not, young prince, you will face the consequences. I'm not very forgiving when it comes to my son." 

Zayn can't see what Leo's face looks like, but it's enough for his father because Leo is pulled into the hug as well.

_________ 

"He said yes." 

"You've said that nearly twenty times, Liam, I get it," Harry drawls. He's curled up under the blanket beside Liam again, says it's more comfortable than sleeping in the ring. 

Liam turns to face him, smile splitting his face in two, "I'm really happy he said yes." 

Harry groans and turns over, "Let me sleep, yeah."

"He said yes." 

"Liam," Harry says, lowly, "I will kill you. Don't test me."

Liam shoves him and Harry flails, slipping off of the bed, "Let me have my moment, Harry." He laughs, star-fishing out on the bed while Harry made unhappy noises from the floor, "I've not a clue why he said yes, but Zayn - I just. Fuck. He's - he's - " 

"A prince," Harry fills in and he peeks over the side of his bed, curls falling into his eyes, "Which, by the way, you're not. Ever gonna tell him?" 

Liam turns to face Harry then, seriousness set back into his features, "I can't tell him, Harry."

"Liam - " 

"No," Liam mutters furiously, "For the first time in as long as I can remember, my life's finally going in the right direction. Just don't - I can't ruin this for myself, yeah." 

Harry's eyes soften, climbing back under his "I know - Liam, believe me, I know, but it's not really a right direction if you're lying left and right. The lad doesn't even know your name." 

"Harry - " Liam begins and he actually doesn't know where he's going with the statement. He knows even less when the door to his chambers is suddenly opened. 

An excited voice, "Lee -" 

And then dead silence. 

Liam closes his eyes, resigned, and turns around very slowly, sitting up to face the voice. 

Zayn stands in his open doorway and he's eyeing the scene in front of him with a carefully arranged, blank expression. His voice is very calm when he speaks, "Why is there another man in your bed, Prince Leo?"

_________ 

"Zayn," Liam whispers and he stands up quietly, "Zayn please listen for one minute. This is Harry - " 

"I don't care what his name is," and Zayn's voice is very cold - colder than Liam's ever heard it. Harry's still hiding under the cover in terror, clutching the ring in his right hand. Zayn's anything but scared however as he stalks towards the bed. Liam manages to get in-between the two of them, hands resting tightly on his shoulders.

"Zayn," he pleads, "Harry's a friend. He's not - " 

"Do you work for me?" Zayn addresses Harry directly, ignoring Liam's words, "I don't recall seeing you around the grounds before but we do get new staff occasionally. Or did you come here with Leo and he's been keeping you hidden?" 

"Zayn," Liam says loudly and it finally get's him Zayn attention. Zayn's eyes are dark and glum. He looks so betrayed that Liam wants to bury himself six feet under. 

"Your highness," Zayn says quietly, "If we're going to be betrothed then I suggest you don't seek alternate company because I'm not one to stand for it, regardless of how little you care for me." 

"He's a genie." Liam flinches at the way the words escape, loud and shouted, desperately echoing around his bedchambers. 

Zayn raises his eyebrows, "Pardon?" 

"He's a genie," Liam repeats again, more calmly, "From - from a ring. I'm not lying Zayn, I swear on my life. I would never do that to anyone, least of all you - " 

"A genie?" Zayn peers around Liam's shoulders to watch as Harry floats up and around the bed. The ring's still tightly clutched in his hand, Liam notices, and a moment of calm rushes over him in the tense situation. "Like - the genie of the lamp stories?" 

"Hello," Harry says, and his voice is timid, "Sorry this wasn't how I was going to make my first impression." 

Zayn eyes him distrustfully, "What business do you have here?" 

Harry holds up his hands in surrender, "I'm with him." He nods in Liam's direction and Zayn's eyes return to him in full force. 

"Zayn," Liam says quietly and then motions for Harry to drop the ring in his hands. Zayn doesn't seem to notice the transaction happening to his left until Liam holds the ring up in front of his face, "Harry's from this ring." 

Zayn takes the ring from him without a word. Liam can almost see the gears turning in his head. When he speaks again, his voice is very faint, so faint that Liam almost can't pick it up.

He only says one word.

"Liam?"

_________ 

"Why are you not angry?" Liam says quietly. The three of them are sitting cross-legged on the bed, Liam just having finished his story while Harry glares at Zayn. 

"You're not going to just leave him are you," Harry says, "Because he's done so much for your proud ass to - " 

"No," Zayn says then, picking at the threads, "I'm not going to leave him, Harry. I wouldn't. And Liam," He looks up, shaking his head, "I never cared if I'd end up with a prince or not. My father might've, but I didn't. I just wanted someone that'd make me happy, but still let me live my own life you know, and you - you do, yeah. All of that. It's - it's nice." 

"But why aren't you angry?" 

Zayn laughs under his breath and he reaches over to tuck one of Liam's hands into his own, "Because it wouldn't have exactly be fair of me. I sort of - I understand why you did it. I think it's a little extreme and I'm - I am upset, Liam. But I'm not mad. As much I wish you could've just been completely honest, I'm not stupid enough to say that that would've been entirely possible." 

"I wasn't lying about anything else," Liam insists then, because Zayn needs to understand, "I really do - I would love to be with you, if I'm still allowed." 

"'Course," Zayn grins, not looking the least bit confused or worried, "You're a prince now aren't you? An unconventional one, but still. Though," he mumbles, "you don't really act like royalty when it's just you and me." 

Liam opens his mouth worryingly, "Is that - like - bad? I'm sorry if - " 

Zayn laughs, gripping Liam's hand tighter in his own warm one, "No. 's probably why I like you, actually." 

Harry makes a loud retching noise and Zayn's cheeks heat up into a fetching pale pink. "Okay," he pouts, "Let me know when you guys are done being disgusting and I'll be back then." He curses his breath about vomit-inducing lovers and tucks himself back into the ring on Liam's right hand. Zayn watches the whole thing kind of amusedly, a little in awe. 

They sit in silence for a moment. 

"Oh," Liam says then, "Why - um - why'd you come in here, anyway. Sorry I completely forgot to ask."

Zayn lights up then and he reaches into a small pocket sewn into his trousers and when his hand re-emerges, there are two gold bands resting delicately in his hands. Liam looks up at him and Zayn flushes a little, "Engagement rings," he explains, "Handcrafted. For you and me. Baba had them made, said we looked like we were about the same size so - "

Liam picks up one of the two identical gold bands and holds it up to the candlelight, admiring the craftsmanship. "Give me your hand," he says, biting his lip. Zayn's hands shake when he slides it on and Liam's hands do the same when Zayn puts his own for him. 

He sits back against the headboard, admiring the way Zayn's rings now sit on both of his hands, "You keep giving me rings," Liam mutters, "At least now I can afford to get you one in return." 

Zayn laughs, bumping his shoulder with his own, "You could give me something in return," he agrees, and he's turning his head, nudging at Liam's cheek with his nose, "But it doesn't really cost anything and you could've done just as well back when you were a commoner." 

Liam rolls his eyes and presses a quick kiss to his mouth, Zayn's lips soft and slightly chapped from his constant biting. "I'm rich now," he says. 

Zayn smiles against his mouth, curling his fingers around Liam's neck. Liam's heart booms at the tender action, "Can't be bought, Liam. Gotta earn me."

"I know."

_________

Yaser blinks at the two of them disbelievingly, "Of all the - " He doesn't look angry though, just amused, Zayn notes with satisfaction.

"Please, baba," Zayn cuts in, even though he's pretty sure any defense of Liam is unnecessary at this point, "He's - he's practically real royalty now, anyway. Genies are pretty fool proof and besides you've already announced my engagement, the date's been set and everything. Just - "

Zayn watches the way his father's eyes soften, though his voice is still sardonic, "Guess we can't turn back now, then, yeah. Besides," he smiles, "It seems to make you happy."

He flushes and Liam bites his lip in return, hiding a smile. 

"Although," Yaser drawls, "I'm not sure why exactly you'd go to quite so much trouble over this one here, Liam."

_________ 

"I have a second wish, Harry," Liam says. Him and Zayn are out in the gardens, Zayn's tiger still standing at attention, ready to tear Liam into bits if he steps one toe out of line when it came to Zayn. 

Zayn muffles a snort at the long groan Harry lets out as he exits the ring. "What'll it be then, Liam?" he huffs, blearily wiping at his eyes. He scowls, "So important that you can't respect my nap." 

Zayn tucks his head into Liam's neck, threading their fingers together. They've talked about this already and Liam's been adamant and firm in his decision. 

"Harry," Liam says, "I wish for your freedom."

Harry blinks in shock, "Liam," he says slowly, "Mate, you've got another wish. You don't have to - "

"I want to," Liam says firmly, "I don't - We don't really need anything, Harry. Thanks for everything that you did for me." 

Harry looks at the two of them for so long that Zayn almost feels uncomfortable, "I'm not going to lose my powers completely," he says slowly, "though there'll be more limitations and I'll need to figure them out. So if - if you two ever need anything, let me know, and I'll see what I can do."

"Actually," Zayn mutters, idea sparking, "There is something you could do for me. See, I have this blond Irish lad who helps with the cooking. And I was thinking - " 

Harry snorts, "Anything to stop third-wheeling you two."

And the gold shackles finally fall off of his wrist.

_________ 

"They looked good together, " Zayn says. He's tired and exhausted - both him and Liam have been up since three in the morning yesterday getting ready for this damn event.

"Not as good as we looked," Liam mutters back. The bastard's already in bed, so it's up to Zayn to pull the curtains closed so that the early morning light doesn't trigger Liam awake at an hour far too early for Zayn to be facing the world. 

Zayn hums, crawling under the sheets, and settling in beside Liam, tossing an arm over his shoulders. "Was our wedding, Li. We're supposed to be the stars. Couldn't let Niall and Harry take that from us." 

Liam smiles into the skin of Zayn throat, "It's our wedding night." He feels like he should sound a lot more seductive about it, though. 

"Shut up," Zayn groans, "I'm too tired to even think about moving right now. Besides, we've got the rest of our lives - we're stuck with each other, anyway." 

"Oh no, is that what I signed up for?" Liam teases. 

Zayn makes a sound low in his throat, "All your fault, Li. Should've been more careful with those wishes of yours."

Liam snuffles, "Think I did pretty good for myself. Got a palace, a rich, attractive husband who's gonna be the future Sultan of Agrabah - all that from one wish? I'm a fucking genuis."

Zayn shakes with silent laugher and pats blindly at Liam's back. They're flushed close together, his face buried in Liam's hair, Liam's leg tossed around his calves. "Jaan," he mumbles, "Sleep."

They're silent for a few minutes, Zayn nearly dozing off completely, before Liam decides to break it. "I think," Liam mumbles, "I think I might love - " 

"Yeah," Zayn interrupts, yawning, "Me too."

Liam huffs, "I didn't finish my sentence." 

"Rest of our lives, Liam. The rest of our lives."