I really didn't think I'd be doing this, but, I couldn't resist such temptation to experiment with the children of Aladdin and Jasmine. They have their own story to tell, you know. I'm really tempted to bring back someone...and some other mentioned characters from the original tale such as Duban and Morgiana. A lot of drama, but you know what? They're teenagers, there's going to be a ton of conflict and teenagers ascending the throne? Even better.

Then again, I really think I'm channeling Pride and Prejudice with Fatima, haha.

Chapter One: Fatima, Amir, Malik, and Laila.

Outside the Palace Walls- Years Ago

The children were lulled to sleep by the cooing of the birds, the illumination of the stars their nightlight. Savannah stood at the doorway, watching her daughter Fatima protect her younger brother, Malik, with her arm draped around him. Of all the magic she had encountered in her lifetime, this was true magic to her. The children she thought she would never see, the children with Aladdin. At five and three, Savannah had managed to provide her children with a stable life, Aladdin always managing to do just a touch more, but never enough to spoil. Although there were times Savannah wanted to spoil them, give them everything their little hands reached for, the things she didn't have. But, she wouldn't be a good parent then. She had lessons she wanted to teach her children and decided to teach them early.

She felt arms slide around her and lips against her clothed shoulder. Aladdin rested his chin against the area where he kissed, slowly tugging Savannah away and letting the beads to their bedroom tinkle as the door was in repair due to hard play. She allowed a smile to curl at her lips as Aladdin drew her back towards the bedroom where he turned his wife around and pressed his lips to her and she reciprocated by pressing her body to his and returning his kiss. Even after children, they never forgot how to be a married couple. Granted, they weren't perfect, no couple was; however, they somehow always managed to reignite the flame.

"You spend too much time watching them," Aladdin whispered into her neck. Savannah allowed her head to roll back before smiling and curling into him.

"I have bore you two beautiful children. As much as you claim Genie's magic is the most powerful, I beg to differ. They are the true magic that I cannot help but gaze at," Savannah replied, feeling her hair come undone from the bun it was wrapped in. Her sienna tresses tumbled to the middle of her back as Aladdin settled her back onto the bed. He kneeled over her, gazing into her eyes and leaned forward, letting their foreheads touch before closing his eyes.

"You are an amazing mother, and I thank Allah that I have found you."

Savannah let those words settle in as she thought back to their adventure together. They lost one another both physically and spiritually more times than she'd ever like to admit aloud, however, they always came back to each other. They had an invisible tether they were always connected to. Unseen bonds which were created from Aladdin, they all sourced to him. She never would have met Jasmine if it weren't for him, neither would she have met Babkak and Omar. Because of her husband, she had crossed paths with these individuals both with and without him at her side.

First came Fatima, their first miracle child, conceived after Savannah and Aladdin had reunited after they had finished their rescue mission. Aladdin was convinced their second child would also be a girl. He had no preference, he just wanted happy and healthy babies. Women, he believed, could do just as much with their lives as men. There was more to life than finding suitors and birthing babies. Aladdin didn't want his daughters being taught in life that they were limited, as their mother and their future aunt were living examples that they were limitless. If Aladdin were to raise an army of women, then so be it. Fatima was born with a full head of raven curls, her mother's eyes and her father's nose, though a tad smaller. She was alert and aware of her surroundings, born a fighter by fitfully kicking off her blankets when nursemaids tried to swaddle her. Already she was attached to her father, only soothed when Aladdin held her.

Next, much to Aladdin's surprise, came a son, Malik when Fatima was two. As content as Aladdin would have been with an army of girls to raise, Malik was the ecstatic new addition. One of each, as is preferred in most cases, and Aladdin had that. His daughter and his son, they would watch over one another and be there when the other needed. Curious, Fatima inspected the baby and planted a kiss on his forehead as a sign of approval. He was quiet, unlike Fatima, who was vocal. Malik gave the nursemaids no trouble and did not kick his blankets off in a fit. He was placid to be in his mother's arms as Savannah would sing them both to sleep. All was well in the world, as Aladdin and Savannah witnessed every first and every step.

In the Palace- Years Ago

The palace was abuzz with rumors regarding Jasmine's pregnancy since it was illegitimate and before she was wed. The child would not be of pure royal blood and the secondary advisors feared an uproar from the kingdom. Jasmine swelled with pregnancy and glowed unhappiness as people pricked and poked at her until she snapped. Immediately, Omar accepted responsibility for Jasmine and the baby. While neither could say they were in love, this was the situation they were handed and Omar did strongly care for Jasmine.

Could Aladdin and Savannah be envied for their happy ending? Yes, but Jasmine wouldn't begrudge them. They, if anything, earned their happiness more than anyone she had ever met. No, Jasmine was happy with the openness of anything, she just didn't appreciate being harassed. She had, in her own way and on her terms, given the people what they wanted: an heir. Savannah protected Jasmine, as they were pregnant together and one could relate to the other. A female bodyguard was something new, but Savannah was as protective as a lioness and Rajah took her place when she left to recover in the evening.

Most of the time, she poured over documents and signed off on budget to build necessary buildings for Agrabah's citizens. Her secondary advisors argued with her, saying she worked solely on emotion. Omar and Aladdin begged to differ, assisting her, Omar took over when Jasmine could no longer perform. Little by little, Omar showed progress and he was slowly passing his timid nature. Did that mean he wasn't soft or sensitive? No, Omar held Jasmine when she cried, made love to her when she needed, and overall comforted her.

"What is love, anyway?" Jasmine asked one day, her voice choked with the onset of tears as she entered her eighth month of pregnancy. All had bets Savannah and Jasmine would have girls together. She was slamming down papers and roughly pushing chairs in. Her raven hair was out, in humid puffy waves around her, adorned in a turquoise gown and bare feet. What queen had bare feet? One who had swollen ankles, that's who.

"But, Jasmine-"

"No one in my family has ever fallen in love. They all settled," she spat the word, tears rolling down her eyes. "How dare my own people give me a hard time because I refuse to settle."

"Jasmine," Omar attempted once more to get a word in edgewise. Jasmine was still not having it, in the midst of her rant. He rose from his seat and clasped his hands upon her shoulders. Her belly bumped against his abdomen before he kissed her to calm her. "There. Now, listen to me. You are not your ancestors, you at the first queen in your family's history to be doing this and you're accomplishing more than they ever could. You think love is a lost thing, but it really isn't. You love that baby and it's not even here yet, and I'll be damned if I'm not here for you and our child and I don't tell you that I love you."

As the words were released, they both stared at one another. Blinking, Jasmine's mouth agape before closing it and swallowing the dry lump in her throat. "You…love me?"

"I do," Omar said, calmly now. "And I think you love me, too."

All was hushed and lost before Jasmine set down on her settee, finding herself exhausted from her upset wailing. She looked up at Omar with her large, lost, brown eyes. "I do love you, yes."

"Then marry me, Jasmine. Don't marry me for the sake of it being right for the baby. I'm here no matter what, but marry me before your past scares the hell out of you again. You've never had a chance to think for yourself and now you can. Think if this is what you want."

They had a private ceremony with Aladdin, Savannah, and Babkak as witness. They presented themselves to the public shortly after, many of the townspeople finding it a romantic gesture and were oddly accepting of the union, proving her secondary advisors wrong.

They again presented themselves after a twelve hour labor, Omar presented little Amir to the people who roared with excitement over the new prince of Agrabah. So many presents and fussing over young Amir, who bore his father's jaw and nose, and his mother's eyes. Jasmine had to battle the nursemaids to actually nurture and mother her own son. She wouldn't do what her mother did and just pass her child off to go right back to ruling. If she had to breastfeed while giving a speech, then so be it. She gathered, years later, that that was done to detach. Jasmine couldn't follow such a system.

Young Amir was blessed by the pastor who married off both Jasmine and Savannah, who also blessed Savannah's daughter. Jasmine kept her word and took care of her loved ones and made them as comfortable as possible in their homes and Babkak, who personally guarded the palace. He was an alert baby, smart, and was still deciding whether he was a mama's boy or a daddy's boy. However, by the time he was close to deciding, Omar and Jasmine welcomed a baby girl, a princess for the kingdom named Laila. Laila took a very striking resemblance to Jasmine.

Initially Amir was not too keen on sharing his mother and father, despite the two receiving equal attention. He was that jealous child, and Omar prayed he would eventually grow out of it. Laila could not receive less to appease Amir. As much as Jasmine did not want Amir spoiled, it was bound to happen by the advisors and everyone paying Prince Amir attention.

To help matters, Savannah introduced Amir to Fatima and continued this matter of playtime so the children could be kept close watch on. Fatima shared her toys and Amir was reluctant, but shared his snacks with her when he saw her getting upset when she dropped hers. Even young, Amir didn't want to see Fatima cry and Fatima nestled up to Amir during naptime. Savannah often took position of nursemaid while Jasmine went to lie down for a nap when too many sleepless nights got away from her due to Laila's colic cries.

Savannah hadn't seen many spirits since the night of her wedding, but she could have sworn on occasion that she saw the Sultan watching over Jasmine, Amir, and Laila. Her own father's fingers stroking Fatima's hair while she slept against Amir. Her mother doted over Malik, and that's what she often saw when she watched her own children fall into slumber. She couldn't outright say to anyone that she saw spirits, so, she often said the sandman tucked them in. She even saw her mother-in-law above her children. She knew her family and Jasmine's family were carefully watched over and that was what Savannah saw now. The Sultan hovered over them during naptime.

Genie glanced over to Savannah as she seem fixed, the big blue guy gushing over the children when each were born. He became their nanny and their overseer. He glanced up at the spirit himself, curious if she could see them, as well. Not everyone could see or believed in the supernatural, many even brushed off Genie's existence, claiming he was a myth. Certainly no myth, he placed scorpions in their bedsheets. Hey, he couldn't kill anyone, but he could have a little fun with the nonbelievers.

"Do you see what I see, Genie?" Savannah asked.

"The Sultan, you mean?"

Savannah nodded, placing her hands on her lap. "It's a marvel, isn't it? I see them sometimes, it feels good to know they're near after wondering for so long if they were alright."

"The gift of sight is remarkable, kid," Genie replied and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He transformed then into Mrs. Doubtfire. "Never fret, dearie, your children are safe from harm. Good souls protect their young."

"I can't talk to them," Savannah confessed.

"Because there is nothing to say that hasn't already been said in here." He pointed to her heart. "You should feel good. It's a comforting presence."

Outside the Palace: Present Day

The royal family, every morning, takes a stroll around the Citadel to check in on their patrons. Any problems were normally ratified right there and then. Omar and Jasmine were never one to waste time with issues regarding their people. If there was an issue, it was to be taken care of. There was a school now where Aladdin's hovel used to be, with his permission. There was a tribute placed above the characters that spelled out 'school' to his mother. Aladdin's own children attended that institution. Employment was up, the highest in centuries, giving beggars and thieves and opportunity to redeem themselves by working in tea houses and soup kitchens. The kiosks were a thing of the past, granting buildings dedicated to their practices and the people were happy.

Since he was young, Amir traveled with his family into the depths of the city he would one day rule. The baker's daughters and the fish merchant's daughters would stop their chores to catch a glimpse of the prince. He had grown into a rather muscular young man, training his body with his father and uncles in combat. His mother tried involving him in yoga, but claimed his mind was too busy to simmer down. He was being introduced to the politics of Agrabah and any further changes that needed to be made to make the city even greater than it was. Omar and Jasmine left him in charge of several projects, letting him see firsthand what it would be like to rule.

Amir studied the ancient tomes, and indulged in epics such as the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. But even though he attempted to be a mature and present himself a suitable ruler, Amir could not help but act his age and stare at Aladdin's daughter. Fatima had grown with him since they were young, but she had blossomed into the rarest lotus flower to him. Omar normally caught his son staring. Out of all the young women Amir could find himself attracted to and it was to his best friend's daughter. Fatima had grown and bore many of Savannah's features, such as her glares and the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. She was dressed, like many of Agrabah's young women, in light dresses and mid-drift bearing clothes. Her hair normally tied back in golden threads and her nose was always propped in a book.

"She is ravishing when she's like that, isn't she?" Omar inquired.

"Amir wants to make Fatima his wife," Malik, Aladdin's son, teased.

"Amir and Fatima were caught kissing at the last festival," Laila, Amir's younger sister, grinned, popping a sugared date into her mouth.

Amir glared at his younger sister. Even now, Fatima passed in the streets after her lessons, reading one of the latest novels her professor had extended to her as a present for excelling in one of her subjects. One of the baker's sons casually grasped her by the forearm and pulled her to him. Amir continued to watch this scene as she initially was angered by this gesture of being interrupted, however, it quickly melted away as she smiled when she realized who it was that tugged her.

"Oh, isn't the young prince so handsome, Fortuna?" One mother asked as she saw her daughter swoon. "He has come of age where he can take on a bride. I wonder when he will and who it will be."

Amir caught the conversation as he made eye contact with the daughter, and then the mother who granted him a warm smile. Whether or not it was genuine, he was unsure. This could have been one of those cases where the people smiled just because of his status. He didn't particularly care for those, but not everyone accepted the transition of the new royal family and their ways. Some were still heavily convinced they would turn on them and raise the taxes and start another spiel just like his grandfather did.

"If he doesn't take on a bride soon, what will become of Agrabah?"

"Silence, you old coot, the Sultan and Sultana are still living strong."

"In my day, you had people from all over coming for the royal's hand. This kid is just lazy."

"Don't speak of the prince that way."

Amir winced at this one. He thought it was enough. Laila heard the elder's conversation, as well and approached her brother and grasped his hand comfortingly. When Amir felt the tears coming and didn't want to show, he squeezed his sister's hand. She may have teased him, but she considered that part of her job in between her dancing lessons and lessons in etiquette.

"Don't listen to them," Laila whispered as she blew her loose raven bangs from her eyes. "Mama said to take a bride when you were ready. You don't need to be forced into it."

"If the people are unhappy," Amir sighed. "Then what's the point? I'm a prince, it's my job to make them happy. I have to take on a bride."

"Mama said your bride should be a woman that you're comfortable with. A woman you could see your future revolving around."

"But, she's over there, flirting with that old friend baker's grandson, whoever he is."

Laila turned her head over her shoulder to see the boy pluck the book from her hand and begin to flip through it. Some in this village still weren't as lucky with the family who was unwilling to allow their children to attend school and receive an education. Some families sent their children to work, instead, clinging to their family's tradition. It didn't cause an uprising, the choice was there, and if Laila had her way, she wouldn't allow that choice to continue. All children had a right to learn.

"I think she feels sorry for him. Why don't you take her out on a date and propose? I can see watching her like that bothers you. Don't let another man take her from you," Laila commented. "You are a good guy, deep down, Amir. You are far too stressed by your responsibility as prince, and I think that's what's frustrating Fatima."

"But, she must understand-"

"Not everyone is going to understand our struggles. She's a dancer at a tea house, she can't possibly fully grasp your diplomatic struggles as Prince of Agrabah. As much as I feel you and Fatima are for one another, perhaps you need a princess who has her act together who can understand you and help you." Laila was going to be as truthful as possible. She saw how in love Fatima and Amir were, the way they stared at one another during the Spring Festival, the way her brother held her. She melted in his arms, and it was from that familiarity, that instinct within both of them that yielded such hunger and desire for one another.

Or perhaps she had been reading one too many new romance epics that caused her to spin those sights. She and Malik didn't have those worries, no, they were solely the best of friends. Malik's eye was on a flower merchant's daughter, or his son, she couldn't be sure. Malik appeared pretty open in his sexuality and Laila was completely supportive no matter which path he traveled. Although Genie did comment they were the two more sensible duo in the families. That was because there was no sexual tension involved, she believed. Things were just easier that way.

"You're right, Laila. I just need to court her properly, perhaps a picnic, and tell her exactly how I feel."

"I suggest you personally swing by after her shift and escort her back to the palace," Laila gave her brother a warm and comforting smile.

The conversation with Laila did encourage Amir as he did as she suggested; unescorted and wrapped in a hooded robe, he traveled down into the village towards the tea house where the ladies were dancing. The lengthy hallway at the entrance ended on the stage, rows of booths lined up to everyone had a good view. It was humid in the tea house, the windows were closed so the ladies bodies had a light sheen of sweat on them, making their skin glisten.

He could spot her out among the similarly dressed woman, clad in deep purple beneath the see through mesh skirt, she rolled her hips in time, working her core as she gracefully bent herself backward slightly. All he could think to himself was how she did not belong working as a dancer. At least it was tasteful, waving ribbons, and not the other kind of exotic dancing where the clothes were discarded.

He felt she was too smart to work here, too delicate a woman to be with these men ogling her just the same. She planted seeds of fantasy in their brains to do with themselves in less than attractive manners as he noticed some men with erections, others simply enjoyed beautiful women dancing while they sipped their tea.

There were some men who just enjoyed the art of dancing. When the girls weren't dancing, they waited upon their clients. Often, they were complimented and some were asked for private viewings. Amir knew his mother would disapprove and shut down the tea house and he had every right mind to do such. Because private work delved into an entirely different category, then again, these women would have done such things whether or not they were working here. Anything for a coin. They just looked better now to receive more of it. As much as he agreed with his mother's design for a better Agrabah, there were flaws, as with any reconstruction.

Fatima caught sight of Amir, her eyes caught into his like fishing wire. She never broke her gaze with him, he was able to catch her surprised smile from beneath her transparent veil. As her eyes locked on his, as though she were providing him his own private dance, one did not mind giving. The intimacy in their glanced caused her heart to pound and his cheeks reddened when he noticed the oncoming look of desire. When the dance ended, she stepped off the stage and made haste in his direction before a customer could request her or something from her. She wrapped her arms around him to give the impression she was engaged in another client.

"You come disguised, your highness," she smirked.

"I've come to escort you back to the palace. I'd like to treat you to a picnic." He rested his hands upon her hips, his delicate fingers feeling the threads and sequins. He cleared his throat. "Do you have the time?"

"I'm not expected back until nightfall, so, I'd love to. That was my last dance of the day, so, let's go."

Amir offered his arm as she accepted it and removed the veil from her mouth, undoing her bangles and slipped them into her coin purse. "I don't understand why you continue to work there," Amir commented.

"I work there after the bakery. As grateful as I am that your parents help my parents by creating a very comfortable lifestyle, I wanted to prove that I can accomplish on my own. I've been saving. Last month I turned sixteen, and you know how it goes, girls my age are considered spinsters if we don't marry in time."

Amir appeared thoughtful as he pieced together her words. So, she wanted to get married, and if he was lucky, perhaps to him. She had been in a stream of another thought as she continued talking, but Amir had been lost in how he was going to thread his own proposal together. He first sent Fatima upstairs when they reached the palace to undress from her costume.

She returned to him, descending the stairs in less transparent garb and once more took her by the hand towards the outside garden. This was one of her favorite places of the palace, she looked around and smiled. The doves were in the trees, Rajas cubs were pouncing on one another, having bred Raja so Jasmine always had a piece of her best friend even after he passed and Raja wasn't getting any younger as he laid sleeping while his children played between the bushes and rolling on the ever green and lush grass that was in need of a soon trim. Fatima tightened her hold on Amir and he smiled down at her, guiding her to the blanket, basket, and an early dinner.

Fatima opened the lid after she sat to withdraw some grapes, cheese, dates, and bread. She spread the smooth cheese onto the bread and took a bite. Amir smiled at her and uncorked the bottle of wine, pouring two goblets for them.

"I hope you're finding this all to your liking?" Amir asked, passing her a goblet as she laughed, her top lip smeared with cheese as she took a sip.

"Am I wearing it?"

"You're wearing it well, I'm surprised," Amir laughed and leaned over with the cloth napkin to wipe it away as she tried making it disappear as she licked her lips.

"Amir, this is so nice," Fatima complimented. "The weather is beautiful for a picnic."

"I know how much you enjoyed Malik and Laila's last picnic gala. But, the picnic aside. I heard some troubling news in the marketplace today." He watched her eyes above the goblet for a reaction. When her brows furrowed in inquiry, he continued. "The people want to know why I'm not settled down with a bride yet."

"None of their business, that's why," Fatima replied. "They're waiting for you to want one of their daughters. You could have your pick of any maiden in this place." She extended her arm to show how wide. "I know tradition speaks of you needing a princess to secure the throne, your mother banished that law a long time ago. So long as this woman makes you feel good about yourself and she's competent, then that's all that should matter."

"And that's why, if I have to choose a bride right this moment, I want you to be that bride, Fatima."

Fatima choked on her wine, sputtering red onto the blanket as she choked. Amir quickly patted her back as his mother often did when he choked on his dinner. He helped clean her up, and with two digits, raised her chin so her eye level met his.

"Me? No, Amir, that's not how I was hoping this would go."

"That means you want to marry me?" His eyes widened with hope.

"You deserve a princess, and I deserve to be asked in a more serious manner than you panicked. I don't want you to ask me to marry you just because you feel rushed to marry because you heard some ignorant sow probably trying to influence you to marry her daughter."

"But Fatima-"

"I'm not some option, Amir. And besides," she sighed. "I'm not ready to marry right now. I'm saving money to sustain both myself and my future family. I don't want someone taking care of me."

"You would rather disgrace yourself as a dancer than be my bride?"

"I'm working hard for every bit of the money I make. At least I'm not handed everything. You appreciate nothing. You don't respect or have appreciation for me and that's why you can't ask me to marry you like the baker's son asked me. You've mentioned nothing about us and our feelings for one another. I always wondered where we stood because we've shared intimate moments, but nothing was ever concrete for us. This has nothing to do with me, it's all about you and your anxiety with being a prince."

He paused. "Wait, the baker's son asked you to marry him?" He collected himself. "Then you'll understand when I say to you then if you won't marry me, then I'll do what my family has done and choose my bride the way all men in my family have."

Fatima's eyes widened then, appearing absolutely sickened by this proposal. Those little words were enough to set her off. "A harem!? You spoiled little ingrate. You'll parade women around to fight for you? No, not you, the crown. Because that's all they'll want is the crown." She exhaled heavily. "Prince Amir, thank you for your time, but I'll take my leave now. We're done here."

Amir stared at her, her eyes reflecting pain and confusion. If only he had it in him to say exactly what he wanted to. The words came out twisted and now Fatima was upset. "Marry me and I promise you that you won't have to dance to sustain yourself. I know you don't want the crown, you don't care for the crown or money." Maybe Fatima just didn't understand, as Laila had said. "Fatima, of course I care for you."

"Out of all the hard work your mother did to abolish the old ways, here is where her hard work had gone, for you to bring it right back," Fatima seethed, tears beginning to bubble in her eyes. "Is this what desperation has done to you?"

"It's not desperation. I want a bride, I want to make Agrabah proud."

"You'll make Agrabah proud by growing to be a strong leader, not succumbing to what some housewives gossip about." Fatima picked herself up and made her way back into the palace to leave. If she startled the guards into thinking she was a thief, or what her father once was, then there would be trouble. As much as they were the future, they still carried their parent's weight on their shoulders.

Being Aladdin's eldest daughter, when Agrabah's changes were initiated, she was looked down upon as though she would follow in her parent's footsteps. They were commoners, they were thieves, and they were the dirt in which the palace guards walked on and over. There was no pride anywhere, but she honored her family's history. Not many would see it in such a way, but they had to do what they could to survive. They didn't maim or destroy, they merely wanted to make it through the day while their ribs threatened to poke through their skin and starvation wracked their bodies in horrid shivers.

Malik didn't have it any better, being looked on as the direct son, the one who carried his features the strongest. Fatima had made certain to prove herself by working hard, no matter what the cost. Of course she was seen as a commoner woman dancing for a coin, but it was more honest work than stealing, although she had gotten the occasional "you stole my heart" in order to provide exotic private dances that she always refused. She didn't care the money incorporated into lap dances and removing her clothes, she respected herself enough. Malik worked with the baker's son, also working with Aladdin to earn his place in Jasmine's court.

Aladdin knew Fatima saw to keeping their family's name in check, he needed to remind her that it wasn't her responsibility, even though he understood where she possessed that idea from. Fatima paced inside the audience chamber, thinking over Amir's proposal. She wanted Amir to ask her for the right reasons. She knew what she sounded like as she combed her fingers through her hair, she felt her stress build in the midst of her scalp. This was the age where women began to wed and prepare for motherhood, just because Jasmine had birthed her children a touch later on, didn't mean old viewpoints faded. She witnessed young women have their ceremonies and already were several weeks pregnant.

Leaning against the marble column, she thought. She was her mother's daughter, and wouldn't just settle. She did feel deeply for Amir, she had grown with him, they knew their darkest moments and their happiest. They were suited for one another, as many of the fortune tellers told her. However, she did not feel that she was right for the throne. Amir deserved a woman more on his level, leaving her to feel less than deserving. She did believe that Amir did care for her, and truly, that's all that she should need.

"There you are," Amir huffed as he chased after her, noticing the free tears falling from her eyes. He crouched down beside her as she slid down. He wiped her tears from her cheeks. "You're afraid, too, aren't you?"

"You know, we carry their burden on us as their children. My father and mother will always be known as the immature thieves that ransacked Agrabah in their youth. I know what's said and I feel a revolt coming. I'm not sure when, but many still don't agree with thieves in the royal court. Which is why you shouldn't have the daughter to one on your throne."

It was then Amir leaned in and pressed his lips delicately to her own, tasting the sadness that dripped from her full lips. He wanted to devour them and take on some of that sadness to take away from her. He understood why she was upset and why she refused him. He still wanted her. His smooth hand cupped her cheek as he tilted his head and beckoned her closer to him, feeling her reciprocate before pulling away. She wouldn't allow herself to indulge.

"You truly do deserve a princess," She whispered, honestly.