Serving the Princess (1/4)
Prompt: Aladdin, Jasmine/Many: “I always get my man.” (Jasmine in the Dagger Rock episode.) Jasmine/Male!Harem. All of the men are devoted to Jasmine and tolerate each other for her.
Note: This is my very first time filling a prompt. I hope I did okay, anon!
--------------------------------------------
“Cease your infernal whining, street rat,” Jafar hissed, barely missing the young man’s head as he swung his gold staff. Now leeched of its mystical, hypnotic power, the staff was purely ornamental, and Jafar mainly used it these days as a bludgeoning tool. “You think you have cause to complain? I used to be the royal vizier!”
“You still are the royal vizier,” Mozenrath corrected him absently, carefully studying the cards in his hand as Razoul pulled another from the deck.
“Don’t insult me,” the older man sputtered as Aladdin pushed up off the pillows scattered on the floor and made his way over to the balcony that looked out over the courtyard where Rajah was sunning himself by the fountain. “I used to be the sultan’s second-in-command. I used to control the inhabitants of this palace. I used to have a staff good for something other than swiping at that street rat!”
He collapsed back against a throw pillow and reached for a cluster of sweet grapes. “Now I’m little more than a child’s plaything.”
“The princess is not a child,” Razoul chuckled, somehow managing to make even his laughter sound callous and brutal. “Surely you’ve realized that by now, Jafar.”
“I used to command respect that prohibited such common rabble from calling me by my given name,” the vizier scowled, chewing his grapes with renewed bitterness. He eyed Mozenrath critically as the youngster triumphantly threw down his hand and collected a few gold coins from Razoul. “And I used to actually think you were a worthy ally, a man skilled enough and cruel enough to rule Agrabah with an iron fist. And now look at you. Tamed by a little slip of a girl.”
Mozenrath glanced at him with disinterest. “You complain too much for me to take you seriously, Jafar. And besides, I know how much you enjoy your time with the Queen.”
Jafar grumbled at that but stayed silent otherwise, and they all knew that Mozenrath was right. Their lives had been different before Jasmine assumed power after her father abdicated. The old man stayed in the west wing of the palace permanently now, spending his days eating, praying, and building towers with his little animal sculptures.
This left Jasmine in charge, and the young princess proved to be an exemplary leader. She ruled Agrabah with strength, wisdom, and compassion, fighting corruption in the military, abolishing the Piety Council and letting local mosque leaders council their constituents instead, and instituting various social programs to help widows, orphans, and the poor in Agrabah. The queen worked very hard to serve the people of her city, and during her rare moments of leisure, she liked to be served as well.
And that was where the men came in. Jafar retained his position as the grand vizier to the former-sultan, but his duties now involved advising the sultan as to whether or not the golden giraffe should be balanced on the azure elephant, or the other way around. He also selected the sultan’s wines, fluffed his pillows, and was charged with humoring the sultan when he rambled about nonsensical things. The magical jewels that formed the cobra eyes in his staff and imbued it with its hypnosis powers had been removed and replaced by ordinary stones at Jasmine’s command, and now Jafar found that his only use in the palace was as bosom beau to the sultan, and pliant paramour to the princess.
Aladdin had similarly been relegated from erstwhile beloved to one of Jasmine’s lovers, and while the role had been difficult for him at first - he found the idea of sharing her with his rivals to be absolutely repulsive - the boy had adapted.
His animosity toward Mozenrath still caused problems occasionally, but it was clear to everyone that the young sorcerer was here to stay. He had been strapped with iron bracelets that countered his wizardry and effectively nullified his considerable powers, rendering him toothless except for a biting wit and a penchant for seething jealousy and possessiveness. He had been allowed to keep his pet eel after being relocated to the palace for Jasmine’s pleasure, and Xerxes now lived in the fountain in the courtyard and had formed quite a friendship with Rajah.
Razoul was undoubtedly the strangest addition to the queen’s harem. He was of low birth, like Aladdin, and he had served the princess and her father, like Jafar, but there was something that marked him as distinctly other. Jafar was clever, Aladdin was handsome, Mozenrath was passionate, but Razoul … Razoul was brutal.
He delighted in anything that required him to use his brute strength, and was the living embodiment of brawn over brains. He was a large, coarse man, all rough edges and no smooth, civilized polish. He was built like a top guard should be: barrel chested and extraordinarily muscled, boasting the strength of five men. His voice was low and rough, his hands were large and powerful, and even his smiles had a look of unique awfulness to them. None of the other men had ever seen him with Jasmine, who would occasionally take two or three lovers at once when she wanted to make use of her harem, and they wondered what the reason behind the secrecy was.
There was a knock at the door and a slim girl dressed in pale pink entered. The Queen’s handmaidens all dressed in pale pastel colors, the colors of youth and innocence.
“Queen Jasmine wishes to see Mozenrath. Go to her chambers immediately.”
Mozenrath stood, casting a superior look at his harem-mates as he did so. He grabbed his cloak and pulled it securely around him, partially obscuring his pale face, and strode toward the door. He paused by the little maiden and tossed her one of the gold coins he’d won from Razoul before leaving the chambers as the door was pulled securely shut behind him.