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Chapter Text

Here is another story of mine from fanfiction.net times, I corrected a few of the typos.

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This is a three chapter story. Beware this be a piece of fluff and it's Disney. I felt like I needed some fluff, this came out. I actually have read the Arabian/1001 Nights version of Aladdin as well. Not that that is going to have any importance in this story. Most of Disney's Aladdin gets ignored as well (the title character is not present, nor is Genie and much more).

The characters are, as can't be avoided, my own version of their Disney performance.

Princess Jasmine is as in the film the headstrong girl who wants something more out of life. Who is next to that also capable of being completely happy and would save everyone's skin by distracting the villain most bravely. What I wanted to explore in this story is a Jasmine who has a cause, a true interest in something.

This Jafar won't say things that imply that a woman should be quiet. Because in my world such a sentence in unforgivable. Someone who says stuff like this does not get the girl. I like to think of the Jafar in this fanfic as ambitious but not altogether evil.

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The First Night

"Jafar, you have to stop trying to make me fall in love with you."

"Princess!" he spat. Gone was the usual sliminess to his voice. This was the pure shock of a man suddenly awakened.

"I have no such objective." He struggled over his words. He rearranged the covers on his bed with a sleepy smoothness, trying to collect his thoughts and separate reality from his dreams. "By Allah, what are you doing here." A poor question. The princess could go anywhere she likes. Every place in the palace was accessible to her, whenever she wishes.

She had made frequent use of this ever since she was a child. Confronting the Grand Vizier was her favourite pastime after petting Rajah. She often hoped to catch him doing something, no idea what.

To appear in his chambers in the middle of the night and disrupt his sleep with absurd accusations was a first. A peculiar choice for amusement. Most likely a display of her power?

"You were agreeing too eagerly with me on the suitors."

"I spoke my opinion. They were poor choices."

"You were doing it on purpose." He was positively befuddled by how decisive she sounded. Jafar prized himself on his self-knowledge. He knew he was not the greatest wizard, he knew he was not one 'pure of heart', he knew a young princess would never truly desire his company.

He was aware of his own talents and boundaries and often found ways of using all at his disposal to his advantage. Everything beyond his power was a sweet dream.

Making her like him was a mission too hopeless to undertake. He had long ago written that idea off, he deemed it impossible. Making her love him was something else altogether.

"I was making the best of an aggravating situation." You were smiling at me, her eyes said accusingly piercing into the covers where he lay.

"I know you want the throne."

Yes, he almost blurted out, baffled by her keen insight. But I was thinking of a coup.

"I heard you. You plan to take the kingdom. That parrot and you aren't exactly quiet in your schemings."

"What do you propose?" The smoothness was in his voice now, the part of him that was not quite asleep was smelling an opportunity.

"I am not proposing anything, I want you to stop."

"To stop what I am not doing. Fine."

He saw her standing in his doorway in the dim light cast from his window. Arabian nights. The warm sands reflected the moon into the palace. How the sky would sometimes darken or pale from this light coming from the soil underfoot.

Such nights are more lustrously presented than they really are. Their poetic look, the promise of romance and adventure when really all they contained was a dusty warmth and a deep need for sleep. The bright magical look of these nights most often made one forget to go to bed.

Jasmine stood in the night's glow.

His vision faded for blissful sleep. He could hear her hissy fit building for how he dared talk to her. He did not care, he wanted to sleep.

All of her outbursts and obstinate behaviour, they will pass. They are but creations of her teenage years. The brat princess. Her striding around every day accusing her father and him of everything and nothing. He tells himself to calm down, it will pass.

"Petulant princess." He mutters to himself, as he often calls her in Iago's presence.

"Jafar!"

"Fine, fine." He turned over, pulling the covers up high to block the sun-moon-sand- light from the window. "I will marry you. Talk to me about it again in the morning."

Of course by now his eyes would not close. Sleep had eluded him.

He sat up in the bed. For the first time he took an effort to really see her standing at the entrance of his perfumed room. Her hair disheveled not from sleep but from lack there of. She had been up all night. She was still in her daytime attire. She drew carefully closer.

"I assure you seducing you is," He rubbed his sleepy temples in an attempt to wake his brain. "utter nonsense, only a fool would hazard.

Whatever is upsetting you, you are imagining it. For the reason to this problem you should look entirely to yourself, princess. Goodnight."

She was not leaving. She stood immovable in the doorway, not keen on coming in maybe. She did look concerned, like she had been worrying all night.

He shifted his bedcovers, clearing a place next to him. He invited the princess beside him on the bed. "Tell me what is the matter."

At once Jasmine strode out of the room. Leaving the door impertinently open behind her.

He saw her tiger join her outside, she stroked his back. They were running away together. Let her hug her tiger to feel better.

He thought it a good thing that Jasmine had at least kept her pet tiger out of this. He could do without being woken by a tiger on his bed growling in his sleepy face.

Jafar wished he hadn't taken the effort of trying to sit up and get up. He returned to his embroidered pillows. Jafar drew the covers back up over his face. No one was to interrupt him here. He was entitled to all of the sleep he granted himself. His scraping and groveling ended at that door. Palace business has no place in his room.

A grin spread across his face. Marry the princess, a marvelous idea and it had come from her own lips. He would have the proper scrolls prepared. His grin lasted in sleep.

The End of the First Night

Chapter Text

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

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

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

There was a suspiciously swiping bow added to his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do not add to the number."

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

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

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

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

She shook him off.

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

She would not play her games with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The table was turned. Now she flushed.

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

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

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

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

"I am but who you see."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He withdrew, his thin lips reluctant to leave hers.

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

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

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

She was dismissed. Just like that.

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

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

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

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

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

His just reward for flying off like that.

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

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

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

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

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

End of the Day

Chapter Text

"I am your princess. I order you to let me go." Jafar waved his hand and the guards dispersed. They obeyed him, not liking him but not wanting to be disloyal either or they would get into trouble.

Being freed the princess looked up at him. She was hidden in the dark hood of a brown cloak. It was most definitely her. He was also dressed completely cloaked.

His smirk was wide at her being found outside the palace just as he was leaving on his own business.

"She tried to flee the palace." said Razul's second in command. Even the chief of guards sometimes needed to sleep.

"That is apparent. Allow me to escort you back, princess."

He offered her his arm, knowing full well she would pull away if he took it. He was amazed she graced him with holding his arm, carefully at the wrist. So she could get away if needed.

He smiled at her, a surprisingly normal kind of smile. Eerie.

"This can be our secret."

They entered the throne room via a back passage. The guard bowed and walked away to alert the sultan.

"There is no need to wake the sultan for this. This happens so often. It's a dreadful ennui for him." Jafar declared. The guard looked torn. He looked from Jasmine to Jafar and back, trying to decide which was most important: Jafar's command or Jasmine's transgression. The treasured Grand Vizier or the headstrong daughter.

The sultan surely should know of this? Seeing the experienced guard doubt, Jasmine's eyes turned to daggers. Jasmine and Jafar stared sternly and expectantly at the guard to either fetch him or leave. The man turned, still undecided and advanced to the door.

At this Jasmine turned sharply to Jafar. "No man except the sultan should have this much power!"

She spoke loud and clear. The guard stopped, turned again. Jafar eyed him, the princess followed his gaze.

"Go, get my father. I'd rather be lectured by him than Jafar. He's always done this. It's traditional."

Happy with such a decisive explanation the guard muttered "Yes, I will get the sultan."

Jasmine now smiled at Jafar. Spiteful and victorious.

"Oh, you are stubborn, princess." he whispered just for her. "Just a moment." he called.

The guard stopped again, not having quite made it to the door. Jafar swept to his side, turning his staff in his hand to a very strange angle so its snake eyes looked the poor man directly in the face.

"There is no need to get the sultan."

The guard left and did not return.

"Sorcerer."

"Yes." A broad inhuman smile adorned his face.

She had solved the mystery of what happened to her father.

Jafar was proud to share this knowledge with her.

"Don't you dare use it on me!"

"Well Jasmine, I believe we have some matters of state to discuss."

He walked over to the throne. He ostensibly put his staff to rest against it.

Disapprovingly shaking his head he said: "A princess who sneaks out of the palace…"

He sat down. The few guards protecting the room at this moment did not look up. Presumably he had used that staff of his on them before. "They don't mind me here."

He must do this often, especially at night, when no one else can see.

"You were about to go out as well. And where were you going?"

"My dear self-centered princess. It is not the first time you've ran away. I am beginning to grow… concerned." He sighed, seeing her take off her cloak and giving it to one of the guards instead of listening to him.

The guards checked the pockets to the cloak and shook his head. "You went to the marketplace with no money. Hoping to pass for a street mouse in that robe. You'd fool no one. It is not so hard to spot a diamond in beggar's clothes. Even if the only jewel they could see you wear is your pretty face. Your poor disguise would make it all the easier for something unfortunate to come to you."

"Unfortunate?"

"You are the princess of Agraba." He groaned." Every realm has its enemies. A hostage would be a preferable fate. It could be much worse if you weren't recognized by whoever got hold of you. Only a palace guard could have spotted you and known who you are. Thank Allah one was there and did before anything happened. The streets are dangerous." She marched up to the throne.

"You can't expect me to stay here. You have seen what I am faced with. My options..." Ah the suitors. "are terrible."

"So they are, but outside you could be…" He paused for drama. "kidnapped." He was himself surprised how mildly he phrased this, not wanting to think of worse.

He watched her in her princessy attire.

"Jafar,"

"How can we keep you safe if you run away." He padded his forehead in mockconcern. This speech was serving some purpose, with him there always was a self-serving reason behind his words.

"You do not care that much about me."

He stretched his hand, almost touched her hairband or earrings. "I suppose you could have bought your way out of trouble, but these jewels could just as easily get stolen. You were at least clever enough to wear rich clothes under that cloth." His hand went to the gem worn on his own head.

"Do you know how much your finery is worth? Do you know where the gold, the jewels you wear come from?"

She shook her head obstinately. She knew these were not just found in the sands or common market. "Merchants who get them from caves." She chanced.

"Yes, in faraway mines."

"Show those to me then."

"Tut tut those are not venues for a princess to visit."

"Then take me to the market. Father can't disapprove of you as my guide." She would take that option, annoyingly restraining as it was.

"I wouldn't recommend the place." He looked at how graceful she was standing there, the slightest of her movements was entrancing.

"If I were to hide you with old age or ugliness on such 'outings'. People would still hold still and be drawn to you. There is a charm that you possess. Nothing could hide it. It's inherently you. " Was that a compliment?

"You are vile." She commented, softly, unsure, and turned back to the topic at hand. "You go out on the street, in the desert all you like."

"I am surely not a precious jewel, like you. I can move safely there and among the worst of crooks. I also possess the political clearance to do so."

"You are not entitled to this function. A street rat would be more worthy of being Grand Vizier or sultan than you."

"I achieved my position by merit. I know what is within my power to reach and I pursue it."

"The throne?" That adamant look of hers. "I will only marry the one I love."

"You have to marry a prince or have you forgotten? "

"Yes I do remember."

"This is no time to fall for a Vizier." Her face betrayed all he wished to know.

"All those lovely things you said about me this morning, you have to tell me more." His voice purred self-satisfied over his lips.

She nodded. "I'll listen." he said. She stepped in front, back, looked furtive. He had not seen Jasmine like this before, hesitant.

She knelt before the throne and kissed the ground between his hands. * She did not disapprove of his sitting there it seemed, strange.

Jafar couldn't tell if she was serious or merely playing along with him.

She looked for a moment then sat down across his lap.

"This is better." Jasmine said. A power shift occurred. Something leveled out. She was no longer the little princess getting lectured.

"Now we can talk properly, peacefully."

He looked smugly at her. "You think so?"

She glanced around, distracted.

"Where is Iago? Asleep?"

"He is making his round in the gardens. He fancies himself lord of all birds in the palace. He seeks ladies to make his harem."

"How is that going?"

"Badly, I dare say. Other birds don't like him much." A sour face came with that sentence.

Just like other humans are never fond of him, not surprisingly.

"You are unlikely friends."

A pensive "Yeees."

"My father always trusted you. Even all those years ago before you used your sorcery on him."

"Permit me, your father is not the best judge of character."

"No, but he was right that you would make a good vizier. Regardless of your unpleasantness in character and dark talents. He would even trust you as much as to make you sultan."

He rolled his eyes in an insincere thank you.

She appreciated such honesty, as when they had spoken that night and he had not been awake enough to act crawly and unctuous around her.

His fingers and hand spread silkily over the small of her back.

Safely cradling her form.

"Where do you go to? Not the market place?"

"Far beyond, to deserts, thieves and scoundrels."

"On your own?"

"Yes."

Jafar leaned back into the cushions of the throne. Not having Iago around was proving oddly liberating. He found it safe to talk about his past. "I was not born into this kind of luxury. But in a desert village on the outskirts of Agraba where the houses are easily mistaken for piles of sand and the streets are narrow because many live there. I knew the discomfort of walking along those streets, of a man lingering too long by my side when he greeted me seemingly fleetingly as a friend. I saw this individual person enter the bathhouse once when I was there. I fled as soon as I saw him, before his eyes fell on me .

The royal bathhouse is far more exclusive." He added with a faint smile of accomplishment.

"Then you were genuinely concerned for me."

A small "Yes."

"Why do you go out in secret at night?"

"There is said to be a cave that holds great riches and magic. Fulfils every heart's desire of the man who finds it. It is my ambition to find it."

"and that would make you sultan.

A secret cave of stories does not sound very reliable to me. There are easier ways to get what you want than through cursed golds and tricky genies. You know of those fables monstrosities as well as I do. They will only give you trouble. It would eat you up."

"Some things are worth the risk. I'd rather be eaten on my way to greatness than slowly waste away here."

"Rajah could eat you, if I told him to."

"Yes, that would be more painful than any magic."

"I had hoped to pick someone that Rajah liked." She shrugged. "A princess could grant you all that you wish. Riches, throne, me. You can get all that without magic."

"I am aware of that."

"You are considering it."

"Your plan."

"My plan?"

"It is too beautiful not to think upon."

"What is it you want, Jafar? Mere riches and power? I think those represent deeper desires. Mine is freedom as you know …mmm expanding on what I already know of you… Is this what sorcery gives you? Freedom?"

"It does give me a lot of freedom."

"But?"

"There are other things that I desire more."

She snuggled into him, as he had done in the cushions.

"For example."

"Power. Security."

"Oh? What's the appeal? I have so much security it is driving me out of my mind."

"To me, a great deal." He continued saccharine sweet. "Security is having a roof over your head, food, servants, a royal position and the protection that comes with that, to have control over situations that you would otherwise be powerless in. It's the chance of becoming sultan, the comfort a marriage can offer." He leaned forward, snaked his arms around her.

"Security and comfort then. Those do lie within my power."

"Your fascination with me already persuaded me to act. When you left at dawn I hypnotized your father into making you marry me."

"Hypnotized. So that is what It is called. It stops. Now. You will undo what you did."

"You want to tell him yourself."

"Yes, without your trickery persuading him."

"Your father's eyes will bulge from his head when you tell him." He says with noticeable glee. "Just seeing us together, like this should make anyone suspicious. Furthermore, pussycat, I am not a prince."

She shook her head. Not "pussycat" then. Not yet.

"For us two, it should be easy to sway him. He will be too relieved that I have found someone to my liking to think about that." He prided himself on being 'to her liking'. "I always told him I would marry who I want. Then I will meet you tomorrow early in the morning and we can go to him at once."

His grin subsided to a more serious look. It appeared she really wanted this, him. Though part of him had already relished lavishly at this possibility, it seemed unreal.

Somewhere he had believed she was leading him on with promises and uncharacteristically sweet words as she had so many of the princes, to see how far she could go, to close the lid on his nose. Worse, he had fallen for it knowing full well of the trap.

It was no trap.

He observed her, sitting there her head nestled under his chin. The princess warming his lap like a cat would. Frankly he was astounded. This was even more than he would give himself credit for.

She clacked her lips.

"You will never influence my father with sorcery again."

He nodded gently in her hair.

"You will show me the world outside and protect me. And I do mean faraway places, out there where jewels, riches and fabrics come from.

The sands that made you believe in magical caves." She smiled.

He gathered his voice and smirk back together for a most important item. He was sultan. He would be sultan. He could split the world with his grin.

"And you will consider wearing red."

"Red?"

"Yes, sometimes. I like the colour."

"You," she said with a pointed stare. "will give Iago his own chamber. I don't want him as an onlooker during our nights together."

Saliva filled his mouth, speech left. She would sleep with him. Sickeningly sweet he whispered in her ear: "Yes, that is agreed then."

"I would like to know your taste."

Her warmth left him. "Would you like to see me, Jafar?" She took his hand, how small hers looked resting on his long fingers.

He stood up and let her guide him to her chamber.

This was

The Beginning of the Second Night.
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-I stop the story at the interesting part. Hope you enjoyed.-

* phrase often used in the One Thousand And One Tales, so I wanted to include it here too. ;)