Commission: Diamonds in the Rough (Patreon)

Agrabah. The city of mystery, of mystics and enchantment. The city of people, of paupers and princes. The city of sand, of wind, and of dreams.

It was a city filled with song.

At least, it was in the mind of one young man.

Aladdin was used to the hustle and bustle that surrounded him now, packed streets filled with pedestrians and merchants all shouting over one another. It did not matter that the sun had set. There was food to buy, items to sell, and the brightly glowing moon lit up the Arabian night.

The darkness was a sanguine comfort to the young man, warm air with a pleasant breeze that somehow enhanced the constant thrum of the city, which Aladdin could hear almost like a big bass drum.

He passed through the crowd nimbly, like water passing through the cracks of a stone, listening all the while. It was like hearing a heartbeat, a sound so powerful that he could feel it through the skin of his feet, and he found himself humming along.

“Make way!” someone nearby, probably a guard, shouted. “Make way!!”

“Make waaaaay… for Prince Ali…”

Aladdin hadn’t realized he’s spoken, putting words to the half-remembered tune, until from somewhere just above his right shoulder he heard someone whisper, “Say hey~ It’s Prince Ali~”

He turned, looking behind him to see… nothing. There were plenty of other people, of course, but they were all practically faceless. Nothing stuck out, nobody was looking at him...

He’d just begun to dismiss it when a gust of wind, so strong that it nearly blew off his fez, swept up the street. Canvas covers flopped, some even broke, and numerous pedestrians ducked their heads as a small tuft of sand was lifted into the air and, perfectly in tune with the music in his head, Aladdin heard a chorus of women’s voices shout, “Hey!!” so loud and so close that it startled him into a yelp and a backpedaling fall.

He tumbled awkwardly, arm striking the side of a stall at the elbow. Strangely enough, it hardly hurt. Worse was the damage the impact had done to his pride and the stinging sensation of sand hitting his throat through his opened mouth.

He hadn’t been the only one who’d fallen. He could see shadows through a miniature dust storm, the faceless Arabians lifting up from the ground or stepping away from the stalls upon which they’d collapsed. He waved a hand, coughing, and noticed something… strange, happen then.

A torch sprung to life in the dark. Then another, then a third, each illuminating a shadow who hadn’t seemed to be there only a moment before. Each dark mass was moving in perfect synchronization, and Aladdin was very suddenly aware that the music inside his head was now being played from outside as well.

Then, it changed. The drum became only a background noise, hardly audible over the sound of jewelry and gemstones sliding against cloth and naked flesh. The light jingles sharpened the shadows, and Aladdin could now tell that the bobbing shades were shorter and more shapely than he had first thought.

One of the shadows moved and then a new noise joined the soft jingles. A flute, sweet yet sharp, began to play. The other two figures twisted, thin but luscious curves highlighted by their intense flame, and another gust of wind cleared the area and exposed three very, very lovely looking women.

They weren’t naked, but they weren’t far from it either. Each of them wore a colorful two-piece outfit, the flute player wearing purple while the other two wore a brilliant red, dark and fanciful in the bright moonlight. The flute player stood in the center, her magnificent hips twitching from the left to the right while the other two began twirling around her, taking their torches with them, the stones on their garments emitting some pleasant twinkles…

And then they began to sing.

“Won’t you join in, on our sacred song?

We’d like, a man, who is big and strong!

Come now please don’t leave us high and dry~

Let us go! Come along!

What could possibly go awry?”

As the flute player began to pick up louder, either of the girls stabbed their torch into the ground before taking a man, grinning pleasantly as they pulled them into their dance.

They moved like serpents that had been charmed to the flute-player’s tune, the focus of the dance on the circular movement. And they looked lovely. Grace marked every movement, every twitch of their hips or shake of their belly perfectly planned and executed. Their movement was enrapturing, so much so that Aladdin had almost missed when they’d changed partners.

When they did, Aladdin noticed how each girl moved lightly enough that she would barely disturb the sands, while each man plodded through the steps with a certain incompetence that said how they had no idea how to follow someone else’s lead in a dance.

A crowd was swiftly forming around the circle, eager men stepping forwards to volunteer as the beautiful girls danced and smiled and sang to them. But each time they’d deposit the men back into the crowd after a single revolution before taking up a fresh pair, and their song taking on a more playful air.

Aladdin had begun to watch the tallest girl, one of the scarlet dancers whose forehead was marked by a crimson Bindi gem, when he realized he was watching the trio with his mouth still open. And that he was still sitting on the ground.

He went to lift himself to his feet… and then he was dancing.

There was no in-between. One moment, he had one hand on his knee, the other in the sand. The next, he was face to face with the smallest of the trio, a dark-haired dancer who wore a bright red fez.

“Well at least someone doesn’t have two left feet,” the girl whispered, grinning.

“Woah,” he breathed, blinking.

“Hey now. Don’t fall behind,” she instructed. “I’d hate to give you up so quickly, Prince.”

Aladdin blinked at the girl. His face must have gone pale, because she giggled righteously before bringing one of his hands to her waist, the other to her own hand.

The music slowed, as did the girl’s movements. She paused, but for only a second before taking Aladdin’s hand in her own, guiding the second to her waist. She was closer now, and though she was only just tall enough to reach the young man’s nose, it meant he could smell her shampoo and her perfume very clearly.

“H-how do you know who I am?” he asked, blinking through the enchanting scent of fresh vanilla.

“Hmm~” she smiled. Aladdin noticed that they were approaching the spot where they’d started dancing and braced himself to pull away… but the girl kept on moving, his body unconsciously following in her step. “We know many things, Ali. Not much can be kept a secret from us. And that which can often has a way of being…” she paused, pushing his fingers against the slightest softness that touched her trim tummy. “Let loose~”

“Who are you?” he asked.

Someone who wasn’t the girl he danced with spoke then. “We are what we are,” the girl with the Bindi replied. “Just as you are what you are, at the time that you are.”

“For now,” the girl he danced with grinned up at him, “we are dancers.”

“Tomorrow, perhaps something different.”

Aladdin swallowed. The last voice had not come from either of the two girls, but the flute player, still playing on the flute, watched him with an open regard.

“We’re here to satisfy… urges,” the short girl then filled. “You’d call them hungers.”

“Hunger? Like… feeding?”

“Mpphhh,” the girl sighed deliciously, “something like that. Yes.”

“By… dancing?”

“By dancing with mortals,” she said, a mischievous smile tilting up at her lips. “By… indulging, in their indulgences.”

Aladdin felt her fingers tighten over his again, flexing him to her soft stomach. It felt nice… really, really nice. She felt squishy, but beneath her middle he could feel something like muscles hidden just beneath the top layers of soft flesh.

Then, the girl was gone, and he was with the Bindi dancer, who held his out-hand down around the curve of her backside. “This one is… splendid,” she whispered, still guiding his feet in a responsive movement. “I could join with you for hours, couldn’t I?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean that you’re a wonderful dancer, Darling,” she whispered out with a tight, bewitched breath. “I could dance and dance with you until the sun burnt away.”

“Hey!” Again, Aladdin had the weird feeling of gearing her thoughts rather than hearing any words. “No fair. We agreed if we found one, we’d all share him.”

“Oh, I’ll share alright…” the Bindi girl said. She seemed to be the leader of the group, coming across like a matron who was used to getting her way. “Just a few bits more. It’s so rare to find someone so… hungry. And handsome, too.”

“Uhh… t-thanks,” Aladdin laughed.

“Oh my goodness, you’re so-”

She bit her lip and then suddenly Aladdin was in freefall, tipping forwards as the weight against him had vanished. Before he could yelp, he felt his arm catch something strong but light. Inches from the sand, the young man was yanked back to his feet in a spinning twirl that had him tumble into the arms of the purple flute player, who dipped him to the cheers and friendly jeers of the crowd.

“Mhmm, careful, honey,” the woman whispered, her pleasant voice dripping with husky sugars. “I’ve barely started.”

“W-where did-” Aladdin began, then realized they’d reached the crescendo of the music. He looked up, above his dipped head, as a new instrument took up the tune. It was an odd-looking thing, gleaming bright against the light of the sun, and it sounded so much deeper than the simple flute had. But then, the look of the bindi woman smoldered just as deeply and hungrily as her instrument, naked feet tapping the sands.

“I wasn’t done yet, Aliyah!”

Before he could process anything further, Aladdin was pulled back to his feet and into the dancer’s movements, both of his hands on her shapely waist as she guided him in the large circle, laughing playfully as they moved to the deeper tempo.

“Aliyah?” he gasped. “Is that your name?”

The girl’s answer was a deep sigh, a satisfied purring as her nose twitched and her eyes closed pleasantly. She continued to move, continued to lead, but her body became as if one with the music, closing the gap between them and setting the pair into an intimate dance.

The music of the bindi woman was slower, though it only made Aliyah’s movements seem so much more pronounced and precise. Aladdin struggled just to keep up! She was so much more skilled, so much more confident, like a serpent spinning herself around a clumsy mouse.

But whenever his feet caught or his knee knocked against hers, she adjusted and caught him, moving him into the next step, then the next. It made his fumbling feel almost graceful, as if he’d meant to put himself there rather than her imperceptible guidance, and with each little touch Aladdin could feel sparks springing up until the hair on his arms was standing on edge and the young man was smiling and humming along to the tune while the girls sang the words.

“We’ve got so many things we could show you~

And we only charge one little fee!

A small sample, a touch and a whisper.

One drop of praise,

Set us ablaze,

Covet me like your sweet candy!

Prince Ali!”

They were shifting, color to color, girl to girl. Fez, bindi, purple, short, tall, soft. Each was his partner, each was the musician, each was the other dancer who he could watch bob and play in his eye. But even as he experienced them all, he felt their differences, the directions each took his hands as the music reached towards another crescendo.

Then there was Aliyah, his hands low on her hips, pinching the inch where her waist became her juicy backside. He felt more than saw her legs against his body, then felt her arms hugging behind his neck. He realized he was facing down, towards the dessert floor, with her leg extended so high that he could feel the weight of her thigh resting on top of his shoulder.

He had dipped her. Bent her over backwards, barely able to hold himself upright. His right arm was behind her back, her knee pressing against his ear. Each were breathing hard, each were lightly sweating. His naked middle pressed against her, wet, soft, lovely, her breasts wobbling as she giggled and grinned up into his hungry, roaming eyes.

And he wanted more.

He wanted her to be heavier so that he could feel stronger, wanted her belly to be full so it could grind against his abs. He imagined how his hand would feel, grabbing as much as he could hold of this mischievous girl’s plumpness, imagined her breasts puffing around the tiny top and her belly folding over her jiggly bottoms.

And then she moaned, a low, exquisite sound of purest hedonistic enjoyment, and he could feel that she wanted it too. She wanted him to touch her, to grab her, to drop her to the sands and put himself…

But the sands were gone.

Aladdin blinked, startled, as the girl was suddenly hanging over a dark crimson rug. There was another, then another, and he looked up to see they were in a room covered in carpets and pillows and… and there were windows, but there weren’t any doors.

“My… my…” said a voice from behind him. “He’s even hungrier than I’d thought~”

“D-don’t… scare him…” whispered the girl beneath him. Her hand caught his chin and brought him back to her eyes, which were almost as deep and as bewitching as her movements and her body.

Almost.

“S-sorry,” he swallowed, suddenly aware of his heart in his throat. “I don’t… I uhh…”

The purple-clad girl shivered and he nearly lost himself again, listening to her jingle and feeling her weight in his arm. His shoulders flexed, his breathing caught, but he managed to hold onto his head.

“L-let me help you up,” he said.

The girl looked at him. She was still grinning, though it looked more bemused now than pleasureful. “You know, most men would rather help me down, here~” she replied, her fingers walking up his chest. “Then they’d ask to join me.”

“And of course, she’d say no.”

“But for you, she might make an exception…”

Aladdin looked up again, searching for the other two girls and not seeing anyone. It was just unnerving enough to help him cool his racing mind.

He didn’t feel in danger. He wasn’t sure what he felt. Or rather, what he felthe felt.

But something was strange, and his good instincts told him he’d be better off on his feet than on… someone else. At least in this moment.

He stood back, using his arms to lift the girl upright, and again felt the intrusive thoughts of her weight and his muscles. Something which greatly seemed to amuse the girl.

“Sorry… about that,” he chuckled, rubbing his head.

“He is rather male, isn’t he?” said another of the voices, but this time rather than seeming so incorporeal Aladdin was able to place the voice as… directly above him?

It might have been helped by Aliyah’s rolling eyes and pointed glare, but he looked up to see the other two girls laying upon silken scarves which hung from the ceiling in great billowing waves, hammocks of the same material which made up their light dresses.

“Well of course he’s male!” The shortest girl, holding her fez in her lap, grinned down from the rafters towards Aladdin. “You’re a Prince after all, aren’t you?”

“Uhhh… Ahah, y-yeah,” Aladdin laughed.

The other girl, the tallest with her bright bindi dot, was leaning back further, fingering her strange brass instrument. “So confident,” she said with a sardonic tone. “He doesn’t taste like any Prince I’ve had.”

“Oh, you only had one bite!” Aladdin nearly jumped as Aliyah took hold of his arm and held it to her chest. “Ignore Fatima. She’s just jealous.”

*Ggrruuoouugggghhh…*

The growl from above was something that the young man had only recently heard, but which had left quite the lasting impression. His arm came up before even his startled eyes, instantly taking a step back from the tiger’s growl.

Rather than a gigantic cat, Fatima was leaning over the side of her hammock, her tummy folded in two and her flashy ankle bracelets dangling around her naked feet. Yet, despite her flashy jewels and slender looks, her expression inspired the same hollow anxieties in Aladdin’s stomach that the sounds from the Cave of Wonders had given him, and he found himself taking another step away.

Directly into Aliyah’s embrace.

“Aha~” she giggled, squeezing his shoulder to her bosom. “You truly aren’t like most, are you?”

“Uhh…” Aladdin blinked. He found himself looking from her eyes to her smile. She had soft lips… plump, with just the right amount of gloss. Somewhere in the back of his mind, fear squeaked and trembled. He was in a building with no exits with women he did not know, women who were clearly far more than he seemed… He saw the gleam in Aliyah’s eyes, the twinkle of power that he might have recognized as the breath of magic, had he been able to recognize more than that which was more primordial than fear, more instinctive than worry.

Hunger dulled his mind, quieted his eyes. Aliyah smelled like the fruit of a dessert oasis, and again he pictured her body as a full-figured peach, juicy and plump against the youthful strength grown by his life on the street.

He felt her purr, felt her breath. Felt her breasts, felt her belly.

Mhhhmmm, he felt her whisper enter his mind. Bite after bite… I suppose I wouldn’t mind…

Then Aladdin’s breath froze, his heart seemed to stop, as the bellydancer’s middle grew soft… then grew round. She pressed to his hand like rising dough, a potbelly that was tight and fatty and full. His muscles burned as he felt her weight increase and he began to look down to see with his eyes what his hand could feel, but she caught his chin and made him stare at her lips.

And then he leaned in, wanting nothing more than to have a taste of the desert’s plump fruit, and his heart became thunder as she opened to receive his kiss.

And then his arm became fire, his legs twinging with pain. They gave out from underneath him and, together, the pair collapsed in a mess of tangled limbs and startled yelps.

Aladdin tried to catch her, but instead was brought down with his arm pinched between the pillows on the floor and the plumpness of her body, and found his legs spread to either side of a tanned potbelly. He was on top of her, blinking into her own startled expression.

Laughter came from above, scornful and mean, though he hardly heard it over his hammering heart.

“S-sorry,” he muttered, pushing against the pillows to try and rise to his knees… but his voice sounded weird and knees couldn’t reach the ground. Aladdin registered Aliyah’s blush, her wide eyes looking down at her body. Then he saw his legs tucked against the smooth caramel hills of her breasts, feet barely able to reach the ground on either side of her hips.

She was chubby… she was very chubby, and she looked so much taller now! Had she misunderstood his ideas, made herself into a…

Aladdin kept looking at his legs. He saw the pillows, the rug, his pants, and finally registered the laughter.

“Huh?!?” he asked, sitting back fully astride the woman’s belly. He looked at his skinny arms, his small torso, and felt his head. “You turned me a kid???”

The laughter became greater as Aliyah turned pink enough to truly fit the peachy comparison. “I did no such thing!” she denied, then glared up towards her laughing sisters.

The fez girl, whose name Aladdin still did not know, sat on the edge of her hammock with a humor-filled smirk. Fatima, meanwhile, was laughing so hard that her hammock seemed as if it were about to come undone and send her plummeting to the assembled bedding below.

“You two are so mean,” the fez girl chuckled. “Must you do this with every mortal?”

Aladdin felt himself squirm, a twitching tickle rocking his frame until his knees smacked to the rugs. He caught himself, seeing his adult arms and legs towering over the plump belly dancer, though her pudgy pink pout was nowhere near as kissable as her amorous warmth had been.

A hand came to Aladdin’s shoulder and suddenly she was standing. It hadn’t yanked him or pulled him sideways, he had simply come to his feet and was now standing before the shortest dancer with her colorful fez.

“I apologize for my sisters antics,” she said, still smirking. “They do so love to tease mortal men. Almost as much as they tease one another.”

Aladdin let out a long breath, lightly rocking on his feet. He saw Aliyah still on the floor some feet away, Fatima still in her hammock.

“Mhmm, trouble with your balance?” the girl asked.

“More like my head,” he said. “I’m… are you using magic on me?”

“Oh, absolutely,” the girl nodded. “Since the moment you fell asleep, Prince.”

Aladdin blinked at her. “A-asleep?”

Her smirk widened to show white teeth, her bright eyes flashing with a crimson blaze. Suddenly, Fatima and Aliyah were on either side of her, all three girls standing in a row. “Allow us to properly introduce ourselves. I am Zahra, the wind of the South.”

Fatima curtseyed, her jewelry jingling pleasantly. “Fatima, wind of the East.”

Still blushing, Aliyah cleared her throat before bowing, which did… lovely things to her plumped figure. “Aliyah…of the West,” she coughed.

“And you,” Zahra said, stepping forwards, “are Prince Ali. Are you not?”

Aladdin felt himself turning a similar color to Aliyah. “T-that’s what they call me.”

“A fiction,” Fatima said almost immediately, shaking her head. “Look at how he projects himself! He looks as if a common streetrat.”

“A fact,” Aliyah pointedly replied, crossing her arms. “Can you not smell it on him? He tastes as royal as the Sultan himself.”

“As if you have broken into the Sultan’s palace.”

“I could, were I not held up by your constant belligerence!”

“That’s enough,” Zahra said, stepping forward. Starting at his feet, her eyes lifted to look up Aladdin’s frame and as they went, his usual clothing shifted and changed.

His stitched pants became a rich white cloth, his chest became covered and his vest became a cape of royal fabrics. Gold adorned his shoulders and collar, and his fez shifted to becoming a large cap of princely regalia.

“Ahhh,” Zahra nodded. “As I expected. You’re no stranger to magic. How much have you seen?”

“Eheh…” Aladdin winced. “A bit.”

“It must be powerful magic,” Aliyah breathed. “We spirits are quite adapt… as you might seem” she waved a hand to her pudgy stomach.

“Yeah, eheh…” Aladdin chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I guess you could say that.”

“I suppose that makes sense. You’ve been teleported enough to make a man sick,” said Fatima, her arms crossed.

Aladdin fidgeted. “Uhh… I was kinda getting there, eheh,” he chuckled. “Could you… not do that, again?”

Fatima nodded, lifting one finger. “Granted. We’ll only edit your appearance from here on.”

“Wait, what?”

A sparkle shot out, snapping towards Aladdin and striking his chest. Unlike earlier, he felt it this time, his body warbling and tickling before his and arms swelled with a *BRUOM* of muscles that made his neck squish up into his chin.

“Yaah!”

“Oooo, now there’s a handsome man!” the tallest dancer chuckled, coming right up to him. “Come, come,” she said with authority, taking his right arm and lifting it. “Flex for me.”

“Uhhh…” he swallowed before moving his arm in and out. It felt almost like it belonged to somebody else, but the woman’s deep purr held a lusty vigor.

The purr became a bright yelp as she suddenly bounced to the side, bounced back towards the smallest girl by a strong gust of wind.

“Too big!” Aliyah said, striking Aladdin with a flick of her own magic.

The Prince’s muscles faded with a *Wooooosh* of winds, all three girls giggling with appreciative laughter as he felt his chest deflate.

“You like them too small!” Fatima giggled as she moved to his right.

“You like them too large!” Aliyah breathed pleasantly as she moved to his left.

Aladdin looked between them, feeling more amused than startled or even worried. He looked ahead to Zahra and asked, “This is all a dream?”

The smallest girl nodded. “A dream of desire,” she came forward, as did her sisters.

And then they began to dance.

Crimson, scarlet, violet flutters, the soft song of jewelry and the pleasant sound of instruments in the wind.

He could no longer tell which of the girls was speaking. Their bodies were too nice, their bellies too attractive. Each of them changed, each growing softer, larger, fatter. They were all different, a tall apple-shape next to a pudgy pear and a bottom-heavy peach, but they were each as lovely as the last.

“You long for love,” said one.

“You lust for softness.”

“You wish for the chance to feel strong.”

They spun around him, jingles and jiggles and round, heavy steps. Wind twirled through his hair, pulling the hat from his head, undoing the magic of his shirt and opening his vest to their fingers and touch.

Zahra was first, hardly up to his chest, but he felt himself warm as her hand slid beneath his waistband to grip his hip. Her fingers tickled his pectoral muscles before guiding his own hand to grip at her fully, fat bottom.

Your hunger… is intoxicating, she whispered in his mind, and he felt her belly swell bigger, pushing against his waist as her rear become rounder against the clasp of his hand. A part of him was aware that she was feasting, growing fatter and larger off of his simple desires.

So he gave her all she could eat, and then gave her more.

She guided him down into a long, laborious kiss, her cheeks full and her chin fattened. When they broke, her eyes smoldered with scarlet fire, the same as the flames of scarlet that *whooshed* around them.

Then she stepped back into the fire, into the wind, and another shape sauntered forth.

Fatima was larger still, nearly as tall as Aladdin himself… but then, he was larger too. He felt the same tickles as before as the might of an ox came into his muscles, but it wasn’t so dramatic this time.

You wish to be mighty, the dancer whispered without moving her lips. Her hands came to his chest, long fingers dancing down his pectorals to his waist before squeezing her thumbs against his abs. A Hero among Princes. Or perhaps even more…

When she looked into him, her eyes were darker, deeper, and he could smell the fruity scent of drink on the air. And, suddenly, his hands were on her waist, cupping the spirit but her chubby love handles.

Your desire is so sweet~

She kissed him, standing up on her toes, and he felt her drink the hunger straight from his lips. It sloshed into her like wine pouring straight down her gullet and into her gut, and he could feel the liquid churn as his strong arms and strong hands squeezed her tighter to him, more deeply into a kiss he could not taste.

When she pulled away, it was too soon. He wanted to hold onto her, to hold onto that strength and that power, but then she was gone, and Aladdin stood before Aliyah.

And never before had he felt so out of place.

He knew instantly that she could see him. Her spirit eyes glimmered with a royal purple, ghostly and unnerving and yet she was smiling. But besides that, besides the wind swirling around them and the jingling from her sisters’ bright bells, the girl looked totally and completely… normal. Bare.

Chubby, soft, a little bit short. But her soft grin was beautiful, and Aladdin somehow knew that was because it was genuine.

You wish to be recognized, Aliyah said quietly. You wish for others to see who you are.

Aladdin swallowed nervously. He felt his neck dip, his eyes going to the floor. He tried to remember what he’d been doing, where he had been. He remembered the cave, remembered the Genuine. He remembered the music and his wish and…

And then Princess Jasmine was standing in front of him. Chubby, soft, but almost entirely unremarkable in the tan clothing and headdress she’d been wearing when he’d first met her. It was just simple street clothes.

And she made them look beautiful.

She walked to him and, despite his urges to reach for her and take her, he felt himself hesitate. The girl was there exactly how he had seen her… but something about it just didn’t feel right.

Mhhmmm, he heard Aliyah whisper in his mind. Nothing I can do could meet that first kiss. You’re lucky I’ve eaten my fill already. Still, I’m tempted to take you… to see how deep your desire may take us. But I think you’ve been buried in the sand for long enough, boy.

Jasmine became Aliyah became all three of the girls, standing so close as the close in upon him. They were each laughing big belly-leaping laughs, amorous and lovely and pushing him down to the pillows.

Covered by their bodies, covered in darkness, Aladdin felt a pair of lips on his cheek and then Aliyah’s whisper.

It takes more than a wish to reach happily ever after.

Wake up, Aladdin.

*****************************************************************************

When Prince Ali awoke in the Sultan’s guest chamber, he had the momentary fear that he was about to be suffocated beneath his own pillows.

The bed was unlike anything he’d ever slept on before, set with what seemed like sixty-three pillows and with silken fabrics which hung down from golden frames. It was more cloud than mattress, and he had to awkwardly flounder to tip himself over and uncover his face.

His hand struck a wet spot where his face had been revealing that he’d been helplessly drooling. His eyes followed the small drizzle up to a particularly fatty looking purple pillow that he seemed to have been… chewing on.

“Ugh… I really hoped the Sultan’s servants don’t look too closely at these…”

A low thump came from the bottom of the bed and he looked up to see a large looming shadow behind the silk. A brief moment of fear went through the boy, remembering the tall and imposing figure that had been with the Sultan, but the shadow was bigger than that. Far bigger! And a little gray trunk began to pull back the sheet!

“Ah! Abu!” Ali bounced down, taking the trunk and rubbing it fondly.

The monkey-turned- pachyderm leaned in closer, pushing the silk aside behind his massive gray ears. His eyes were bright and he looked excited, letting out several low toots from his trunk.

“Hey, buddy. You sleep well?” Aladdin asked, reaching up to his ear. “You wouldn’t believe the dream I was having.”

Abu released a louder toot, as if to cut Ali off, then glanced several times towards the side.

“Huh? What’s up, buddy?”

Abu’s trunk wrapped around his back, twisting Ali’s head to look towards his left where a slight figure stood outlined in shadow against the silk.

“I can come back later if you’d like,” Princess Jasmine breathed. “But I thought… you know, we should have breakfast together. I brought toast.”

Ali fumbled over himself twisting to make sure none of his drool had gotten onto his night clothes. At the last moment he took the large pillow and tossed it out the other side of the bed and then opened the silk.

“Jasmine! Hi! I wasn’t expecting…”

Ali’s heart had risen up to his chest at her voice, had become like thunder at seeing her soft smile and her simple dress… and then it fell into the pit of his stomach when she saw the trey she was carrying.

“Is something wrong?” Jasmine asked, looking down at the eggs, buttered toast, and the two glasses of orange juice. “I didn’t burn anything, did I? I’m not used to making things myself, but… well, I thought it’d make a nice first.”

“N-no no,” Ali waved off her concerns, stepping out from the bed. “It looks great! I’m starving, could probably eat a whole camel!”

“Oh!” Jasmine’s grin perked up at the corner as she said, “Well, I’m not sure I could fit one on the tray, but maybe we should just start with the toast See where things go from there.” And then she gave a lovely wink.

“Heh,” he laughed. “Y-yeah. Here, allow me.” He took the tray from her, his left thumb stroking his discarded hat and the golden lamp that sat inside of it.

He’d nearly died last night. He remembered the weight, the sea, how he’d used his second wish. He’d been saved by the Genie and revealed Jaffar’s plot. The sorcerer had been banished… and Ali was engaged.

“Okay,” he said awkwardly, forcing a grin. “Do we, uhh, have anywhere to sit?”

Jasmine lifted a speculative eyebrow. “What, haven’t you been in a palace before?” she laughed, gesturing off to the side. “Every room has a place to sit!”

“O-oh, yeah,” he tried to chuckle. “Of course.”

He went with her, watching the lamp slightly move as he walked. The tension and worry of the coming conversation was already welling up inside of him, unsure what to do or to say. He’d made a promise to Genie, his third wish should free him… but Ali was engaged.

Not Aladdin.

He tried to put on a good spirit as they ate together, talking about Jaffar and how excited her father was to have found such a good suitor, but Ali’s mind could not change from that singular worry. What if he needed that third wish?

Then he noticed something different on the tray. Something he’d completely overlooked, just behind his discarded hat. A vase with a single flower gave off a wonderful color, a deep violet purple mixed with a pair of twin reds.

“You’re nervous too,” Jasmine said, “Aren’t you?”

Ali opened his mouth to wave off the concern, but he looked into her eyes, and Aladdin replied.

“Yeah. A bit. It’s… there’s a lot going on. I think I’ve gotta just go for a walk and… clear my head.”

Jasmine nodded. “Yeah. It’s been… a busy few days.”

“Yeah you ain’t kidding,” he huffed. “Thanks for the breakfast. It was the first time I… Ever had anything like that.”

Another quizzical eyebrow and a disbelieving smirk. “It was just eggs and toast,” she said.

“I mean someone who would bring it for me.”

“Oh!” Jasmine said, then her eyelashes fluttered and a slight pink tint came to her cheeks. “Oh… yeah. I liked it. Eating with someone I… like. Well, other than Rajah. Or Father… well, most days. It kind of made things a bit…”

She met Aladdin’s eyes, grinning a pleasant smile through her red blush.

“Tastier.”