Jasmine sits stock still on her massive bed, trying to appear calm. Inside her nerves rage. With a trembling hand, she strokes the side of her lamp. In a moment, Jafar stands before her, arriving in smoke as, on principle it seems, he again refuses to come to her as a man.

"Yes?" She cringes at the abject lack of emotion in his tone. She misses the sound of her name on his lips or the pet names he had sometimes used. Even if it had all been a facade, a decidedly Jafar-like play for power, it had been less lonely for a time. She would trade much to return to those days.

"Jafar, I would like to make a wish."

He quirks his eyebrow at her in surprise. "Indeed? Has something catastrophic befallen the kingdom?"

"I've actually been thinking a lot about what you said when I was sick, and you are correct. I need an heir to my throne, to protect the kingdom when I am gone." She takes a deep breath and, before she can reconsider, says, "I wish that I will produce a healthy heir within the next three years with a suitable man of my choosing."

He's not sure if it is surprise or confusion but it seems an odd wish. Regardless he feels the power surge within him and he says simply, "It is done. How it is done I can't know but when you choose a man, you will easily be with child."

She looks at him with sad eyes and then lowers her head, her voice quiet in the large room. "I wish for you to be free of the lamp and returned to your human form, as it was at age thirty years."

He has no time to react as the magic swirls around him and his shackles fall from his wrists. His body is painful. Years of being not quite alive left him forgetting what it is to force your legs to stand. He falters and takes a knee, his enormous strength abandoning him. When it is over he is left naked on the stone floor. His beard is much shorter than before. He was older when cursed with the lamp.

It seems almost anticlimactic. Such a quick transformation for such a complete change of their whole lives. She has considered this for days. At first only a vague notion. Slowly she gave it more serious consideration. She realizes what a great debt she owes him for her life and the guilt of it forced her hand. She has all but forgiven him for his past life.

Also, she can't help but… love him? She is a little sickened by her own weakness, caring for a man who would use her. But it had been good for a while. And his care when she suffered her illness had seemed genuine. Maybe she is in love with her naïve idea of him. Regardless the sick feeling inside her is unmistakable.

Jasmine holds a robe out to him so he might cover himself and looks away with a slight pink to her cheek. She says, "I thought if I would return you to life I may as well add to your years, a thank you for this last year and to make up for those lost to your bonds. You are free from the lamp and from me."

He looks up at her and has nothing. No response. He should thank her, he thinks. But confusion has paralyzed his tongue. Why would she release him? If she sought only his service...

He stands and wraps the robe around his thin frame. His torso is a little less defined than it had become over the years. He feels vulnerable for the first time in a lifetime. He doesn't know how to say thank you. "You could have wished for anything, Jasmine…1000 years of peace for your kingdom, wealth for the city's poor, anything. You would most likely not have needed the wish for an heir."

It's the first time he has used her given name in days and her heart lifts its nearly lifeless head. "Kingdoms rise and fall. Many have survived without magic. It is my responsibility to help my people."

"Is that my dismissal then?"

She can't read him or his tone. She thought he would be happy. Grateful even. "I assumed you would want to leave..." Then more quietly, "once you had what you wanted from me."

"I see. And you? Will you be seeking another advisor? You seemed resolute you needed a Vizier, went through many lengths to secure one, or so you lead me to believe."

She smiles a sorrowful smile. "Good advisors are hard to find. Once you have one, even harder to replace. I wish..."

She stops and waves her hand. "It's of no consequence. Thank you for your service this past year, Jafar. I am a better Sultana and the Kingdom stronger in no small part because of you."

He is stunned and quiet. This is not how he expected their deal to end. He had believed it never would, that she would dangle freedom in front of him like a worm on a hook until she succumbed to the end of her days. He had become very nearly resigned to it.

He's too proud to ask, too stubborn to acknowledge, but more than anything, he does not want to say goodbye to her. He is desperate to stay.

"Perhaps it would benefit if I remained as Royal Vizier then..."

He adds hastily, "After all, I am comfortable in this life and if you do not object to my advice..."

Jasmine feels elated but then suspicious. She can't help it and even he would have to admit it is deserved. "I - I would like you to stay if we can find our way to how it was before." She doesn't have to outline what 'before' means. They are both painfully aware, though neither is sure the other feels the same sting.

"But you are still a powerful sorcerer and I know you are capable of..." she swallows, lost in her own thoughts but trying to make him understand without making herself look weak as a consequence. "I just need to know I am safe from any attempts on my throne or my life."

"You think I would take your life so easily, little Jasmine?" Her heart races at that, at the hope in it, remembering the towering and mysterious man from her childhood. In her mind she finds him beneath a persimmon tree. He shows her which are good to eat. She giggles at the face he makes when he picks a sour one and he smirks down at her. The man in those bittersweet memories is standing before her, roughly the same age he was then.

Yet he continues, "You think I could not have taken it already tonight if I so chose?" Her heartbeat quickens again but the hope now mixes with fear. He is a dangerous man, lest she has forgotten, regardless of the age of his body. His mind and heart are the same as the older man she had so feared as an adolescent girl. Now in her memory she is dressed in red as Aladdin battles for her hand, her Father in a trance-like state of Jafar's doing.

"I have no doubt you could." She lifts her head and tries to look unafraid.

They stare that way for a moment, sizing up one another. She thinks she might lose her life, reward for her mercy. He thinks simply she is beautiful in the moonlight, aching to embrace her, misreading the fear in her eyes for something else.

He speaks next, softer than before, "I did not save your life to take it. I will stay then, by your leave."

By your leave. He is allowing her at least an illusion of control. Perhaps that will be enough.

She smiles a small but sincere smile. "Then, I will see you tomorrow, Jafar."

He nods as he turns away quickly, not trusting himself to stay, his anger at her now completely swallowed by longing. He had said he had no needs as that of a man before. He realizes now he had nearly told the truth. His desire for her, though it had been palpable weeks ago, has grown tenfold in these few moments since she released him and he nearly panicked when he thought she would ask him to leave her side. He had forgotten what "need" truly was.

"Good night, Jasmine."

Slowing at the door but not daring to turn around he adds, "Thank you."

She lets out a breath she did not realize she held. "Jafar, wait!"

He hesitates, just at the door, and turns to her.

"I was thinking, your needs have changed." She grins a little. "Maybe you would join me for breakfast before tea?"

In his mind he nods coolly and walks out the door closing it softly behind him. He returns to his room and lays down for his first night of mortal sleep in nearly 15 years. In the morning he walks into the dining hall and sits beside the queen as he had at so many dinners and they converse, strained but trying to warm to each other. Weeks roll into months. Maybe their relationship can heal but he can never say he loves her. His new curse, worse than the lamp, will be to watch suitor after suitor play for her hand, knowing she is looking for a Sultan, and an heir.

In but a moment he plays out the years in his mind. But in the end, he plays out one last scenario and it is this that he chooses.

Stalking back across the floor, his arms circle her and his mouth devours hers. She whimpers in the relief of him and her legs nearly buckle beneath her.

When his lips break from hers in favor of her neck, she breathes, "Jafar, stay with me please. Not just tonight. Always."

He pulls back and looks into her eyes, seeing a new future there. He smiles slowly and speaks before taking her mouth, claiming her as his and offering himself to her in turn.

"As you wish."