Desert Rose

Chapter 4

A/N: Here's the fourth chapter and this project has excited me the way no other project has. I've already come up with two AU ideas for Jafar and Amana, one that's a crossover with the movie Passengers where Jafar and Amana take the place of Jim and Aurora on a space cruise ship that they both woke up too early on. The other is a modern AU fanfic where Amana's a reporter and Jafar is a prisoner on death row she interviews and falls in love with. That was inspired by a song I found in a Joker/Harley playlist on Spotify called A Journalist Falls in Love with a Death Row Inmate. Anyway, I'd like to thank onlyindreams145 for beta reading.

If you recognize it from Aladdin or Disney in general, I don't own it with the exception of Abbas who belongs to hello-mintblooms and who I'd like to thank for letting me use her character.

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"Satine: Christian, I'm a courtesan. I'm paid to make men believe what they want to believe.

Christian: Silly me... Just think that you could fall in love with someone like me.

Satine: Ah... I can't fall in love with anyone.

Christian: Can't fall in love? But..the life without love, that's terrible!

Satine: No! Being on the streets, that's terrible."

-Moulin Rouge

Amana looked through her armoire, thinking about the request she recently received from Jafar, which was rather vague about what exactly he wanted from her. She wasn't aware of any events happening recently, so maybe she could get away with dressing a bit more scandalous. Amana grabbed the blue outfit consisting of a small top and a matching pair of hakim pants. A good outfit for a private meeting, but Jafar might have something public planned and Amana knew that most men, particularly men of status, preferred to have women of modest dress accompany them. She grabbed a silk cloth to cover herself with thinking that, if Jafar did want her for a more private engagement, her outfit underneath would be a nice surprise. Amana grabbed her knife and equipped it, just in case Jafar tried to force a private meeting. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing a perfect combination of casual and elegant. However, there was one more thing missing. Amana grabbed the blue rose in the vase and put it in her hair.

"Perfect," she said to her reflection.

Then she left to see Heydar in the corner as Jamila giggled with a group of girls.

"He said that I was a rare jewel buried under tons of sand," she bragged and then saw Amana out of the corner of her eye. "Of course, I told him that, in Agrabah, he is the true jewel." Jamila went into a dreamlike trance. "And such an exotic one."

"Really?" One of Jamila's friends asked excitedly. "What did he look like?"

"You should have seen him, he had skin the color of a freshly plucked peach, hair as gold as the sun and eyes as green as leaves," Jamila turned to Amana. "In fact, it was the same color as your eyes, Amana." Jamila gazed into Amana's eyes. "Could he be a relative of yours?"

"I highly doubt that such a thing is possible," Amana told her. "My mother is from Arendelle."

"So you claim," Jamila said nonchalantly, earning a silent glare from Heydar.

Amana imagined disfiguring Jamila's pretty face but turned around with an innocent smile. "So my father claims," she corrected. "And I highly doubt that he would have any reason to lie."

Jamila only laughed. "Forgive me, Amana, I never meant to imply that your father deceived you," she told Amana. "I was only speculating if your mother might have been a disgraced exile rather than a commoner."