ALADDIN ; BTS AU

ACT I ; SCENE I

The boy was swift on his feet. Discreet, he nimbly weaved through the bustling throngs of people that crowded the marketplace. The boy could see the fine Persian rugs draped over vendors' stands, he could see the vendors themselves grinning as they pocketed the money they had been handed. He could smell the alluring perfume wafting from the clean skin of the wealthy women, the greed and yearning in the air. He could hear the laughter of the more fortunate children playing with newly purchased wooden swords, the negotiations between buyer and seller, the metallic clinking of gold and silver in the deep pockets of wealthy men. He could practically taste the savory, juicy meat and the rich spices of the kebabs being sold just a few feet away from him. Yes, the marketplace had all of that and more, but the boy wasn't interested in any of it.

His dark brown eyes were trained on the loaf of bread sitting unattended a few carts away from him. Mouth watering at the sight, the boy licked his chapped lips. He hadn't eaten in days, and though the bread was not as tasty as the various other delicacies being sold, it was the only thing he could afford. Well, afford to steal, anyhow. The blazing sun beat down on him, causing sweat to break out on the back of his neck, tan skin glistening. Despite being clothed in only a vest, some billowy pants and no shoes, he was still practically melting in the heat. From where the boy was crouching, he could see a shady area to escape to once the deal was done. Perfect, he thought to himself before his starving eyes drifted back to the loaf of bread.

The vendor was a big man, burly, probably from hauling sacks of flour. Intense sweat drenched his sleeveless arms, his long facial hair sticking to his neck with the perspiration. He was twice the boy's size, but it didn't worry him. The boy had outrun men bigger than he, and something about the way the man carried himself told him his mind was just as dense as the rest of his body. Then, the boy saw it. His first meal in four days was within his reach as the vendor turned his back, picking up a hollow gourd filled with water and taking long, slow sips. He took a quick look around the marketplace, double checking that everyone was deeply immersed in the shallowness of their own lives. They were. The boy took a deep breath, using the biting, stinging, aching hunger in his stomach as motivation.

Now.

The boy slipped out from where he had been crouching between a jeweler's cart and a kebab stand, trying to seem nonchalant as he walked briskly towards the stand. His eyes carefully surveyed the scene: the bread vendor probably had a mere few sips left; a gourd could only hold so much. Quickening his pace slightly, the boy neared the cart. Neared the bread. Neared sustenance that he so desperately needed for the next few days. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five. One—he has it.

He gingerly picked a loaf from the dozens stacked on the man's cart, a loaf small enough that it wouldn't be missed, and tucked it under his arm. His heart pumping a mile a minute, the boy tried to appear casual as he made his way towards the shadowy safe haven, what he now saw was a narrow alleyway between two adobe buildings. Maneuvering his way through marketplace patrons, the various horses and other animals and carts, he finally reached the alley. Letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, he took the loaf of bread into his hands, a gleeful smile blooming on his dirt smudged, sun kissed face.

The taste of sweet success was on his tongue, and he was tempted to devour the small loaf then and there. His conscience stopped him, however, reminding him of the three others who required the bread just as much as he did, the three others that were depending on him. His stomach growled like an angry lion, but he only sighed. If he could wait four days, he could wait a little longer.

"I'll take that."

Suddenly, the bread was snatched from the boy's grasp. His heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see three of the king's royal guards, standing taller and stronger than the boy in all of their arrogant glory. Their scimitars were drawn, blades shimmering despite the poorly lit alleyway.