Hey all! So, here is the awaited sequel of "Memories of a Distant Love"! Savannah makes a come back, now in the threshold of the Forty Thieves. What will she do? I have taken on the personas of Babkak and Omar from the Aladdin musical I saw a few months ago. So, these guys are inspired by the original concept of Aladdin's friends. This concept was a deleted one from the first movie, as I discovered. But! They resurrected the idea for the musical, and their song "Babkak, Omar, Aladdin, Kassim" and another called "High Adventure". Both are great songs, I suggest you guys check them out! Kassim as we all know became Cassim for the third movie (this fic!); and so there are two friends instead of three. Perhaps one of the two will be a love interest for Savannah, hm? Any bets? Haha, enjoy!
Chapter One- A New Take on an Old Tale
Some dreamed of fortune and fame, gold dripping from every orifice. The poor to never hunger again, the rich to feel the sting of suffering. It was a time where there should have been war, rebellion, rage pitted against those who should have been taken down for there to be prosperity. The Forty Thieves lived to embellish those dreams, and heal the wounds of their brethren. To cast shadows down and blind their foes before relinquishing them of their possessions. Like Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor, well, let's just say they were half way there. They stole….okay, a quarter there.
A horse galloped against the cooling sands as night fell, a male dismounted. His face was concealed all but the exception of his eyes. It made identifying harder, as many people had brown eyes and his build of average proportions. A side satchel of coins jingled against his thigh as he approached the door, rapping his knuckles against the door.
"What's the password?" As deep as this voice attempted to sound, it was still wavering and meek.
"Open Sesame, you wuss."
"You're such a jerk, Babkak," Omar whispered the retort as the identified male entered the secret cove of the Thieves. All thirty eight males stared at Babkak and his companion. He lowered his face mask and stared at each of them. So many were missing teeth, patches of hair, missing eyes or even hands. They were able bodied, but had their own story to tell. Babkak cleared his throat and unhitched the satchel from his hip, tossing the coin purse onto the table to show that he contributed for the evening.
"We need food, not money," A member hissed.
"Especially now that we have another mouth to feed." A second added.
Babkak glanced over to Omar, who inched his way through the burly and sweaty men, another member, Sa'luk, exercised his biceps in the corner. His one eye fixed on the duo. Babkak glared before Omar brought his crony into the light of the woman lying on Babkak's makeshift cot. Omar, with very innocent intentions, had managed to undress the woman to unbind her from the tight corset top and pants. She was then wrapped in cloth, cleaned, and laid to rest; once they realized she wasn't going to die, of course.
Babkak kept out of the situation, remained behind a closed curtain while Omar assisted the woman who grazed in and out of consciousness. Omar, aside from Babkak, was the only individual not looking to take advantage of a woman unconscious. Someone just had to stay outside the doorway, just in case.
"It's been almost a week. Is she awake yet?" Babkak unhooked the cloak and set it down outside of the closed off resting area.
"Just this morning after you left."
Babkak nodded and swung open the curtain, entering the darkened room. The woman's eyes were adjusting; he kneeled down to light a fire in an oil lamp and sat down beside the cot. She was silent, but took him in, Omar entered after Babkak and stayed at the entryway so no one else entered.
"There's some stew if you're hungry," Babkak started. He cleared his throat to gain her attention, gesturing for her to pull up the covers as he looked away. As much as he enjoyed the sight of a naked woman, right now just didn't appear to be a tasteful moment. The young woman glanced down to Babkak's gesturing, her eyes widened and curled the fistful of blankets to her chest and cinched her eyes closed in embarrassment.
She slowly peeked an eye open before she took in her surroundings. They were unfamiliar to her, a bout of panic rose in her chest. "Wh-where am I?" She asked. She assessed that these men weren't going to hurt her. If they were, they would have done it already. They didn't appear scheming, or conniving like a certain villain that sprang forth from her memory bank. "Wait, where's Aladdin!?"
The shriek caused every male head to jerk in her direction. When she didn't make another sound, they resumed their activities. Babkak's eyes also widened, unsure of how to handle a hysterical woman. Meanwhile, Omar approached the young woman.
"We only found you, miss. Calm down…calm down…" He attempted to console her. "We didn't find this… Aladdin?"
"I have to go back to Agrabah, I have to-"
"You ain't going nowhere, missy," Babkak interjected. "You've been out for nearly a week!"
Omar kept his distance, as did Babkak and the duo glanced at one another. Omar sighed, the girl was scared, the way she clenched her arms so tight around herself. She couldn't secure herself, not to mention, he doubted she was strong enough to fight them off even if she tried. No, Omar knew this girl was well aware of her risks if she made the wrong move and the consequences that followed. Omar approached the bed slowly, easing himself down beside her.
"We're not going to hurt you," he assured her. "Whatever happened to you-" He paused, "You're safe now. That's what matters."
Those eyes, Omar read. Those eyes were so skeptical, mistrusting. He rose from the bed and exited the room. Babkak glanced over his shoulder before eyeing the girl once more. "So long as you're with me, missy, you're safe."
"Savannah," she said, her voice cracked as she eventually calmed down enough to speak. She was coming back into her own, and realizing that neither men had swords, daggers, not even a trace of a blade to attack her. She doubted they were gifted in the method of magic and there was no genie in sight.
"Come again?" Babkak asked, picking his head up to look at her.
"My name is Savannah," she spoke slowly, controlled each syllable for not just his understanding, but for her own grounding, as well.
"Babkak," he replied, granting her a single nod. "Well, Savannah. I meant what I said."
Savannah sighed gently. She told herself that she wouldn't be here long enough for him to keep his promise. Did she give off that damsel vibe? She was no princess. Savannah lifted herself on the bed to readjust before realizing her clothes were missing.
She opened her mouth just as Omar returned with a bowl, cracked though it was; it held within the shell a steaming bowl of stew. She smelled it; it certainly did not smell like beef, although she forced herself to believe that was the case so she could manage to swallow it. The broth was thick, warm, satisfying against the pangs her stomach growled in demand for her to nourish it. She had battled with her empty belly before, but now this was a different case. It was new, it was 'I just came out of a coma and I need nourishment if I plan on escaping' hunger.
"Where are my clothes?" She asked, swallowing a chunk of the meat.
Omar's face flushed, cheeks transforming into a bright red, a fine resemblance to a tomato. Babkak smirked; he was in the clear on this one. Omar rubbed the back of his neck as Savannah casually swallowed another mouthful of the stew. Someone undressed her, she assumed it was one of the two of them as she gained the sense they wouldn't allow any of the others near her. She was oddly flattered, and oddly comfortable. This thought disturbed her. Why was she so comfortable around men she didn't know who undressed her?
"Well, um, you see, you needed….assistance, and I…helped you." Omar stammered each word out. Savannah had little to no reaction. So, not only did they care for her, they saved her. She almost perished from the hands of a master psychopath. Being undressed by her rescuer didn't seem as big a deal. That entire ordeal placed everything in a new perspective for Savannah.
"Have you any clothes for me?" Savannah asked. Step one: Gain their trust, she thought to herself. She was conspiring, formulating a plan.
Omar nodded and handed her two folded pieces of cloth. "And no one, you know…touched you…Babkak thought you were a whore," He added nonchalantly.
Savannah perked a brow. "A whore? Well, I hope I made good money as one if I were in a past life." She smirked on the outside. Her blood boiled a tad on the inside. She would have to have a talk with Babkak later on and show him what a whore did not do.
Babkak didn't deny this, although he did seem embarrassed now that he seemed to be proven wrong. Omar reported no bruising on her thighs, normal of whores. She bore no tracings of abuse, lacked scars, aside from cuts on her feet and ankles. What kind of whore had cuts there?
"No, I'm no whore."
"But your clothes-" Babkak started, but Savannah was quick to cut him off.
"Stolen," she lied. How would she explain a genie gave her those clothes?
"That makes you...a thief?" Omar asked. Savannah nodded in response.
Omar eyed Babkak and the other sighed. "We'll have to wait for Cassim to return. He'll figure out what to do. We've never had a woman in our den before. But, you ain't well enough to be travelin' on your own yet, and I doubt he'd make ya leave without your strength back."
Noise erupted from outside as someone entered the den. It sounded like they wouldn't be wondering for long. Savannah helped herself to another gulp of broth before setting the bowl down. The outside quieted, and she assumed he was informed of her presence, because all she heard from that point on were footsteps in her direction. She had to hold her head up and be strong, thinking only of finding her way back to Argabah and Aladdin.