A Mirage of Victory

Ch 11: Shattered

Jafar found himself isolated in the palace dungeons. He was without his staff, and therefore powerless to get out. He only hoped Aladdin would indeed hide it away rather than destroy it, or he would surely die.

It was cold, dark and desolate here - like his heart. Any light was feeble and weak. The air he breathed was musty and stale. Jafar could hear the squeaking and scurrying of rats, seeking refuge in the shadows. Hating this place and hating Aladdin, Jafar rubbed at his arms, glaring at nothing.

His rage was as profound as it had ever been, or ever will be. That ragtag bunch of incompetent misfits... how could they have defeated him again? With Mirage by his side, it was simply impossible - and yet they'd managed to pull through. He couldn't wrap his head around it... not that he could think clearly when he was this pissed off.

"Jafar?"

Her voice. Can it be? Jafar peered in the darkness, and saw her, sitting in a cell parallel to his, separated by a walkway.

"Mirage!"

Jafar forgot all his anger in an instant. He shuffled forward on his knees, clutching the bars and drinking her in with his vision as much as he could in this dim light. "I... I thought you might have been killed."

Mirage returned Jafar's gaze, almost purring with elation at the welcome sight of him. But then she gasped and looked him over, her pupils like large dark pools. "Oh, no... They got you, too?"

With both of them captured, there was no remaining hope for victory... but she was happy to see him, all the same.

Jafar let out a shaky breath as his joy rapidly gave way to shame. He hurt her. He hadn't meant to, but ultimately Aladdin was right - she'd been struck down by his own hand.

"Mirage, I..." Jafar lowered his head. The guilt he felt nearly made him sick. How could she forgive him? "I'm sorry. My magic–"

"It's not your fault, Jafar." The cat-woman asserted. "I was firing at that mirror just as much as you were. That easily could have been you that was hurt, and I'm glad it wasn't. You couldn't foresee-"

"So you are hurt?" Jafar interrupted, his throat dry with worry.

Mirage drew in a slow breath before answering. "I'm... I'm fine..." A lie.

The bites on her arm were giving her considerable pain, and the magical blast had singed her fur and skin in places. The genie had whisked her away to the dungeon before she could be injured any worse. Mercy, perhaps... a weakness heroes possessed that Mirage was begrudgingly grateful for.

But it wasn't her injuries that hurt her most right now...

"Well... I am mostly intact, besides my pride." Mirage added with a soft scornful laugh. She turned to look at him again, her reflective eyes almost silver in the dark. "How about you... how are you holding up over there?"

Considering his answer, Jafar ran his tongue over his busted lower lip, thankful to find it no longer bleeding. He might have also cracked a rib or two when he'd smashed into the wall, judging from the pain he felt in his torso... but all in all, his injuries were not anything he couldn't weather out.

"I'm about the same." Jafar replied with a half-hearted grin. "But we can remedy all that, once we can leave this wretched place. Do you... feel strong enough to take us back to Morbia?"

Mirage shifted her eyes away from him, downcast. "I... can't. I already tried..." The moment the genie sent her here, she had attempted to teleport and re-enter the battle... "But... these cuffs..." She raised her arm, revealing the heavy golden wristbands locked in place, "...they seem to be keeping me from using magic at all."

Mirage sniffed, and rested her chin on her knees, staring at the floor but not really seeing it. It's hopeless...

Jafar longed to comfort her... to touch her. He extended his hand to Mirage through the prison bars, gazing at her with imploring eyes. Mirage lifted her head, her lips parting when she saw. She reached for him in turn.

They pressed themselves against the bars, but try as they might they couldn't reach, their fingertips barely an inch apart. Disheartened, Mirage sighed dejectedly, slowly withdrawing her hand away and returning to staring at the floor.

Jafar frowned, leaning back against the dusty stone wall, thinking.

"We're going to get out of here, you know," he said to reassure her.

"And do what?"

"Well... we come up with a new plan-"

"Aladdin will outwit us again," she cut him off. "And then we'll come up with another plan, and another..."

"You can't let him destroy your spirit, Mirage!" Jafar scolded, astonished. "He's just a boy."

"I know. But you don't understand, Jafar." Mirage growled softly. She seemed to be completely drained of all the confidence and vigor she'd had before.

"You've only faced him three times, and then you were dead and didn't have to fight him again until I came and got you. I've been trying to take him down for countless moons now, practically on a monthly basis! And the outcome is always the same."

Mirage's eyes began to glisten as she fought back tears of frustration. Fortune favors the good. Fate takes no notice of a villain's hard work and determination. Not here.

"I had you brought back to life because I knew I was reaching my breaking point and I couldn't bear to lose again. But even together, we didn't stand a chance. No matter what power we have. No matter how creative our plots..." She sighed once more. "He always wins. I... I'm exhausted, Jafar."

Ashamed, Mirage hid her face in her hands. Never before had she felt so low.

"I'm sorry."

Over the next few moments, silence reigned as Mirage lamented their loss, and as Jafar mourned for her shattered dignity.

It was then that he realized... thinking he had lost her, and then seeing her like this... it scarred him far more deeply than a happily ever after for his nemesis ever could. She needed him now. A powerful sense of loyalty overcame Jafar, and he searched for the right words to say.

"Well... to hell with him, then." Jafar finally muttered.

Mirage lowered her hands away from her face, and slowly looked over at the former vizier, incredulous. "What?"

"Forget about Aladdin. For now, anyway. We can conquer any other kingdom we choose. We can create our own, if we want!" Jafar locked eyes with Mirage, conveying the certainty of his words. "Perhaps we will return here someday when we're stronger... Perhaps we won't."

Mirage's spirits lifted at that. She did not discriminate against any land. After all, she was a creature of pure malice, Evil Incarnate, and anywhere would be a good target for torment. Agrabah would have been very nice, but its inhabitants were too pure... too good. Her evil couldn't flourish there. She could let go.

But could he?

"But... your revenge? You said it was the only thing you cared to live for."

Jafar beheld the wonder in her beautiful eyes, and gave to her perhaps the most genuine smile that had ever graced his features, one that might never be replicated again.

"Not anymore," he told her.