Disney's Aladdin:
The Bride of Mozenrath
By Jill Weber
Part 1 of 4

Characters (c) by Walt Disney Corp. (Except, interestingly enough, 
Aladdin himself, because he's been in the public domain for thousands 
of years, which is why his story keeps getting told... it's cheap. 
However, his image, as created by Glen Keane, is copyrighted)    

For Michele Knoblauch, Wendy Lee, Honywumpus, Questy & Snake Eyes

There are many pleasant sights to wake up to. Mozenrath sitting at 
the edge of your bed is not any of them. Princess Jasmine gasped and 
pushed back as far away from the evil sorcerer as she could get. 
Automatically, she pulled her sheets up to her neck with one hand and 
groped for a weapon with the other. She also yelled, very loudly, for 
the guards.

Mozenrath laughed. "Save your breath, Princess," he mocked. "There 
is nobody around to hear you but myself, my familiar and my Mamluks. 
Can't you tell where you are?"

Jasmine's hand encountered a heavy silver vase. She picked it up, 
spilling water and roses onto her bed. She looked around; the 
furniture was hers, so were the wall hangings, floor coverings, 
flower vases and knickknacks (right down to the portrait of Aladdin 
that she had painted and placed on her vanity). 

However, instead of the warm, gold veined marble of her father's 
palace, the walls and the ceiling were the gritty, grimy, gray 
blocks, that she associated with the...

"Land of the Black Sand," she gasped.

Mozenrath's familiar, the airborne sand eel that he called 
'Xerxes', slithered over and snatched the vase from her hand. She let 
it go; realizing it would do her little good at the moment.

"Naturally," Mozenrath said unctuously, inclining his head 
'graciously'.

"You stole my whole BEDROOM? Are you CRAZY?" Jasmine blustered. 
She looked around again. The only thing missing was Rajah. This was 
the first time she felt more than alarm. Mozenrath had no mercy for 
people; he wasn't likely to show any to an attacking tiger.

Mozenrath shrugged. "They say genius and insanity are close 
relatives. But really, Princess, would you rather that I throw you 
into my dungeon? Dressed like this?" He plucked at the sleeve of her 
diaphanous robe to draw attention to its thinness. Over his shoulder, 
he sniggered: "Look, Xerxes, she's blushing. Isn't that cute?"

Jasmine's face turned maroon, but her expression was one of fury, 
not embarrassment. (It's not like her nightclothes were more 
revealing than her day wear. In fact, they were somewhat less, 
counting the robe).

"What have you done with Rajah?" she snapped, her large, brown 
eyes glaring from between strands of her glossy black hair.

Mozenrath drew one knee up and folded his hands on it. He 
shrugged. "I only hit him with a minor sleeping spell. You wouldn't 
have wanted him to bite me, would you?"

"No," Jasmine agreed dryly. She pushed a strand of hair out of her 
face. "I'd hate for him to get food poisoning." The strand of hair 
fell back into her face.

Mozenrath smirked. "How typically sweet and sentimental of you, 
Princess."

"What do you want with me?" Jasmine demanded.

He shrugged again. "Well, what does a man usually want when he 
comes to a beautiful maiden's bedroom?" he leered, plucking at her 
sleeve again.

"Nothing you want," Jasmine scoffed. Impatiently, she pushed her 
hair out of her eyes again and jerked her sleeve out of Mozenrath's 
hand. "I know that the thought of touching me disgusts you almost as 
much as it disgusts me."

"I dispute the 'almost', " Mozenrath sniffed. Fastidiously, he 
wiped his hand on Jasmine's sheet. He rose languidly and gave a 
mocking bow. "Well, it's breakfast time," he said. "You WILL join me 
for a light repast, won't you?"

Jasmine sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"You COULD starve to death."

Jasmine crossed her arms and glared between strands of hair. "I'll 
think about it."

Mozenrath laughed. "I'll leave you to your cogitations, then. I 
need to get back to my crystal ball so I can see the expression on 
the Street Rat's face when he finds out that I have you!"

"How will he know it was you that kidnapped me?" Jasmine asked. "I 
made it... rather obvious... even for him," he added snidely, even 
though he admitted to himself that Aladdin was not stupid. He bowed 
and backed out of the door with overdone formality.

As soon as he was gone, Jasmine leaped out of bed and yanked open 
the door. There was a dirt-encrusted wall behind it. "Figures," 
Jasmine snorted. She went to the window hangings and pulled them back 
to find yet another filthy gray wall.

Mozenrath's face appeared. "Really, Princess, you didn't think it 
would be THAT easy, did you?" the face smirked.

Jasmine slammed the curtains shut on it.

The Sultan wasn't worried yet, but he was concerned. It wasn't 
like Jasmine to sleep so late. It also wasn't like her to be up and 
about without at least saying good morning. Naturally, he went to her 
chambers to see if there was anything wrong.

He found plenty wrong. Except for a bound and groggy Rajah and a 
few miscellaneous items, Jasmine's room was completely empty. There 
was no furniture, no clothes, and most importantly, no Jasmine.

In shocked silence, the Sultan surveyed the room again. The 
scattering of miscellaneous items contained just about anything 
Jasmine owned that could be classified as a weapon. Then his gaze was 
attracted to the hall door. Shock was replaced with a mixture of fury 
and horror and he bellowed for his guards... and Aladdin.

Jasmine stood in front of her wardrobe, one hand on her hip, the 
index finger of the other hand on her lower lip. "Oh, dear," she said 
in a mocking tone. "Whatever is the appropriate ensemble to wear for 
breakfast with a maniacal, magical kidnapper?"

If Mozenrath was listening, she wanted to show him that she was 
NOT scared. Then it occurred to her that he might be doing MORE than 
listening. The idea of giving Mozenrath a peep show was not 
appealing.

She dug into the back of her wardrobe. Her 'Ram-Jazz' (as Genie 
termed it) outfit was there, but not her whip. The bow the Galifemme 
Queen had given her was gone, as was her sword. She looked in her 
vanity; the picklocks that Sadira had given her were gone. More 
hunting around revealed that even her nail scissors, hairpins and 
broaches were gone. Mozenrath was obviously not planning to leave her 
with anything sharp. She sighed and went back to the wardrobe.

The sight of her 'street mouse' outfit, as Aladdin teasingly 
called it, helped her decide what to wear. She pulled one the brown 
robe and tied it securely. On her head went the camel colored hood 
with its long ends that could be used to veil her face. She added a 
pair of cream colored bag-trousers over her nightwear rather than 
pulling off her pajama bottoms and putting on her usual harem pants. 
She decided that boots would be better than slippers and sat down at 
her vanity to put them on.

Earrings and necklace were added as a matter of form. The more 
herself she looked, the less she felt Mozenrath had power over her. 
She picked up the portrait of Aladdin and said: "I wish you were 
here." She sighed. "Better yet, I wish I WEREN'T here.

Two of Mozenrath's green skinned, shambling, half-dead Mamluks 
showed up soon afterwards, giving her to suspect that the wizardling 
HAD been watching. She shivered slightly and pulled the belt of her 
robe tighter. Then she pulled herself up in her best 'Crown Princess 
posture' and followed her guide. The other Mamluk followed five steps 
behind. Obviously somebody had coached them on VERY old-fashioned 
royal etiquette.

The room they escorted her to was large, but the dim lighting, 
forest of pillars, and low, cobwebby beams gave it a claustrophobic 
feel. There were potted plants scattered here and there; most of 
which looked as perky as the servants. "Mamluk Ficus, what a 
concept," Jasmine muttered to herself.

Mozenrath reclined at the head of a long table, one leg casually 
draped over the arm of an overly ornate throne. On the wall behind 
him was the only really clean object in the room, a sparkling silver 
mirror in an antique ebony frame.
Mozenrath rested his chin on his fist as he watched Jasmine's 
approach with mocking eyes. "So, what do you think of my humble 
abode?" he drawled.

"I'm amazed to find a home that is even more filthy than 
Aladdin's," Jasmine said acidly. There was a table setting at the 
foot of the table and she approached it.

Mozenrath tensed and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "That STREET 
RAT..."

Jasmine met his gaze coolly. "Lives in a hovel. What's your 
excuse?" She looked down at the small, plain chair, then picked up 
the napkin and made a point of dusting the chair.

Mozenrath suddenly relaxed and laughed with mock geniality. "You 
know how it is, Princess. Good help is SO hard to find." He waved his 
hand as Jasmine sat down and a Mamluk came up to push her chair in.
Not realizing the Mamluk was holding the back of her seat; Jasmine 
scooted the chair in herself... and ripped one of the Mamluk's arms 
off.

Jasmine looked at the arm, then at the Mamluk, in disgust. "I see 
your problem," she said icily.

Mozenrath gave a short laugh. To the Mamluk he said: "Take 
yourself down to the... (to Jasmine) armory, shall we say? (to the 
Mamluk) and have that reattached.

Jasmine sighed. "Spare me your attempts at humor," she said. "What 
do you want with me?" She made a face at her filthy napkin and 
dropped it in a handy potted plant.

Mozenrath just gave her a tight smile and snapped his fingers. 
Another Mamluk came up and slapped a bowl and a mug on the table in 
front of Jasmine. Jasmine looked at the bowl of rice and mug of 
unidentifiable brownish liquid with repugnance.
Mozenrath picked up a wine goblet and took a sip. He raised and 
eyebrow when he noticed that Jasmine was not eating. "What's the 
matter, Princess?" he pouted. "Rice and tea not good enough for your 
oh so sensitive royal palate?"

Jasmine glowered at Mozenrath. "It's bad enough that your Mamluk 
had to put his thumb in the bowl. Did he really have to LEAVE it 
there?"

Mozenrath snorted. "Now who's trying to be humorous? Spare me, 
Princess, I didn't kidnap you for your wit, such as it is." The 
Mamluk's thumb tried to crawl out of the rice. Jasmine backhanded the 
bowl, sending it flying off the table to splinter against a pillar. 
The shards and rice fell into the potted plant, on top of her napkin. 
Soon after, the Mamluk's thumb squirmed out of the pot and made for 
the kitchen.

Jasmine leaned back in her chair and glared at Mozenrath. "Fine, 
if you don't want me for my sparkling beauty OR my sparkling wit, 
then (she leaned forward and smacked the table with both fists) WHAT 
DO YOU WANT!"

Mozenrath laughed. "Oh, so impatient! Oh, very well." He sat up 
straight and steepled his fingers in front of him. "I have decided 
that it is time for me to take a wife."

Jasmine pushed back from the table, a look of horror and loathing 
crossing her face. Both emotions were mirrored by Mozenrath.

"Not YOU!" he said fastidiously. "YOU are covered with ALADDIN 
cooties. You don't fit my requirements, anyway. You are too arrogant 
and mundane for me. I want someone more feminine, more domestic, more 
MAGICAL!"

Jasmine relaxed a trifle. "And you can't find anyone?" she asked 
tartly. "How strange."

Mozenrath glared at her, then stood up gracefully and began to 
pace. "True, it's very strange, but most magical females I've met 
have an attitude as bad as yours. So, I asked myself, who is REALLY 
good at finding things? Particularly magical beings? Hm?"

Jasmine caught Mozenrath's drift. "Aladdin."

Mozenrath smirked. "Given sufficient motivation, your pet street 
can be very effective."

Jasmine picked up her mug and toyed with it. "And you think I am 
sufficient motivation?"

Mozenrath's smirk widened. "You know how easily he's lead around 
by his emotions, Princess." He rubbed his chin with his bare hand. 
"He'd do anything to keep YOU from harm."

Jasmine raised the mug, but interrupted herself in mid gesture. 
"What makes you think he won't just rescue me?" She paused, then 
added snidely:  "Like I rescued him at Dagger Rock?"

Mozenrath's eyes went cold, but his smile remained. "Let's see 
what he is doing right now." He paced over to the mirror. Jasmine was 
not especially surprised when he waved his gauntleted hand and the 
mirror started to glow. While he was distracted, Jasmine sniffed her 
mug, made a face and added the contents the pile of the rice, shards 
and napkin in the potted plant.

The mirror stopped glowing and Jasmine could see inside her 
bedroom. Her father and Aladdin were standing tensely in the middle, 
anxiously reading a message on the wall. Genie floated behind them, 
looking enraged. Carpet floated in front, tassels to his hem like he 
was putting his hands to his mouth in horror. Abu was crooning and 
petting an ill looking Rajah. Iago was perched on Aladdin's left 
shoulder, also looking ill.

Her father grasped Aladdin's arm. "You must save her!" Aladdin 
looked determined. "I will. I can handle Mozenrath."

Mozenrath snorted.
    
Iago waved a wing under Aladdin's nose. "Excuse me? Am I the only 
one who's figured out that..." he grabbed Aladdin's ear and yelled 
very loudly, blowing Aladdin's hair awry. "THIS IS A TRAP!" 

Aladdin shrugged him off irritably. "No kidding, Socrates, but we 
have to do what Mozenrath wants... for now."

Mozenrath smirked. Jasmine was extremely tired of that expression. 
"Do what Mozenrath wants all the time, Street Rat!" Mozenrath 
laughed.

"In your dreams," Jasmine muttered.

"No, in reality, Princess," Mozenrath said smugly as he turned to 
face her. "He'll do exactly what I want, because YOU will do exactly 
as I want!" He looked at her empty mug and smiled.

Jasmine cocked her head and looked at him warily. "What do you 
mean?"

Mozenrath buffed his nails against his cloak and said smugly. "I 
put a love potion in your tea. The one I'll use on my intended. In a 
few moments, you'll fall desperately in love with me."

Jasmine leaped to her feet, knocking her chair over backwards. 
"YOU! You are the most despicable..." she caught herself, and without 
missing a beat changed her speech from furious to flirtatious. 
"Desirable man I've ever met!" she cooed. "I never noticed how 
incredibly handsome you are!" She slunk toward him the way she'd 
slunk toward Jafar.

Mozenrath's smirk got even slimier. "Well, you ARE a princess, I 
suppose I'll have to make allowances for your limited mental 
capacity, too much inbreeding, no doubt."

Somehow Jasmine managed to force herself to throw her arms around 
his neck and hugged him hard enough to choke. At least this way she 
didn't have to guard her face.

Mozenrath made a sound of disgust and pushed her away. 
Immediately, Jasmine fell to her knees. "How EVER can I prove my 
undying love to you, my most beloved Mozie?" she simpered.

She could hear Xerxes making gagging noises. She'd have to be 
careful of her face, no matter which way Mozenrath was facing, Xerxes 
had eyes, too. She looked up at Mozenrath adoringly.

Mozenrath smiled and patted her head. "First, get yourself dressed 
up, the 'peasant girl' look is NOT you." He looked at his shoes, then 
kicked them off. "Next, do something about these shoes, will you? 
They're a disgrace."

He snapped his fingers and a Mamluk appeared. "Follow him, he'll 
show you where the cleaning equipment is."

Jasmine managed to look like she'd had her lifelong dreams 
fulfilled as she picked up Mozenrath's shoes and trotted off after 
the Mamluk.

Mozenrath watched her go and rubbed his hands together gleefully. 
"Wait until Aladdin gets a load of her now!"

The border of the Land of Black Sand was easy to spot. It's where 
the gold sand of the regular desert collided with the namesake black 
sands. It wasn't a knife sharp division; the two colors swirled 
together, as if some artist had attempted to mix them.

Mozenrath picked a black sand dune several yards away from the 
whirls of color and gestured at several Mamluks. The green-skinned, 
shambling, half-dead warriors sank into the dune in strategic 
locations. Just a little insurance, Mozenrath planned on killing 
Aladdin. He preferred to do it AFTER Aladdin found a wife for him, 
but he wouldn't really object to not getting a wife if he could see 
Aladdin die slowly and painfully.