A Love of a Different Color by AlJasLover
Summary: Romance! Romance! Romance! A love story about Aladdin and Jasmine’s son Prince Ali and a girl found wandering in the desert.
Prince Ali would make the perfect suitor if it weren’t for one thing – his hair is blonde (think of how Agrabah would react to someone with that hair color!) as the side-effect of a curse Mozenrath tried to put on pregnant Princess Jasmine. Prince Ali is fascinated with the young lost girl because she can’t remember who she is (rather Mary-Sue-ish I know!) and she also happens to share his strange hair color.
Rating: PG
Categories: Aladdin
Characters: Aladdin, Iago, Jasmine, Original Characters, Rasoul, Sultan
Genres: Romance
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 03/12/07
Updated: 04/14/07
Index
Chapter 1: A Faint Meeting
Chapter 2: The Yellow Flower
Chapter 1: A Faint Meeting
Author's Notes: My first Aladdin fanfic! I want to do bunches about Aladdin and Jasmine (cause they're my favorite couple!!) but I decided to start out with OC's since they're easier to write about and this is just my test story =)
I picked a story about blonde hair because I realized Aladdin is the only guy with dark hair that I've had a crush on! Then I thought how everyone in Agrabah has black hair (or gray) and what it would be like to sort of stand out...
Oh and I thought it would be cute to name Al and Jas's son Ali =)
Disclaimer: The original Aladdin characters and plot are the property of Disney. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Disney's Aladdin. No copyright infringement is intended. I just wanna have some fun!
Chapter 1: A Faint Meeting
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Like his mother, Prince Ali loved escaping the palace and roaming the vivid streets of the marketplace.
Since he was charged with keeping peace in Agrabah, a duty he shared equally with his father’s royal viziers, he frequently used this as an excuse to duck out of his other royal tasks… Tasks which Prince Ali found to be nothing more than a royal pain in the butt.
Most recently, this included planning to visit distant kingdoms in hopes of securing a princess as his bride.
Of course, his mother and father had put an end to that silly law forbidding a commoner to marry royalty… But that did not stop them from suggesting he meet all available princesses first, before jumping into Agrabah’s dating scene. His father was, after all, a diamond in the rough.
It wasn’t that Ali disliked the opposite sex. Although he did hate when the occasional harem dancer flirted with him, desperately hoping to marry rich.
No, it wasn’t that Ali did not desire love. For he often wished he’d find someone that loved him as unconditionally as his parents loved each other. Their love was one that stood the test of evil sorcerers and twisted viziers. And it certainly was not that Prince Ali lacked charm… His father had provided him enough of that.
It was simply the matter of his hair.
All throughout this kingdom and the next, Ali had yet to find someone with hair the same color as his.
Naturally, it was expected he would be born with hair as dark as his parents. But when a malicious curse was cast on pregnant Jasmine by none other than Mozenrath himself, an interesting side-effect left unborn Ali with a hair color that no other possessed.
So what kept Ali from anxiously awaiting his journeys as a suitor was fear — fear that a princess could not love someone who looked so different. It was this same reason that caused him to spend most of his days about the streets and marketplace, for the people of Agrabah loved him no matter what his hair color… It was royalty that looked down on his bizarre golden locks.
And today being such a lovely and wonderful day, the streets of Agrabah was precisely where Prince Ali found himself.
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“Razoul, how is the perimeter looking?” asked Ali in the most professional, prince-like voice he could muster.
“Very funny your highness,” responded Razoul. They both knew that being stationed at Agrabah’s gates this time of the year meant the whole day was spent playing cards or watching the fire-eaters and sword swallowers perform their routines.
Although his father and Razoul did not get along (Aladdin had spent most of his life dodging the enormous guard), Razoul took a liking to young Prince Ali right from the start, just as everyone else had.
Growing up looking completely different than the other children, Prince Ali preferred spending his time with adults. Children would make fun of his hair or call him names like sandy-head, while adults treated him respectfully. You would think it was because little Ali was Al and Jas’s kid, but truthfully Prince Ali was the sweetest, most openhearted boy I’d ever known. And it takes a lot to melt the heart of Chief Guard.
Razoul snapped back to reality as Prince Ali swiped Razoul’s sword out of his belt and started slicing it through the air skillfully.
No doubt the result of long hours spent with his no good grandfather, the King of Thieves.
“Come on Razoul! Are you afraid to fight me yourself, you cowardly snake?” Ali laughed as he quoted his father and continued to playfully stab the air with Razoul’s sword.
Razoul smiled remembering how young Ali loved to play pretend with wooden swords, reenacting his father’s famous battle with Jafar.
“No, just afraid to fight you without a sword,” replied Razoul. “Come on, let’s get out of the heat and play that poker game Genie taught us yesterday. He can keep watch out here,” jabbing his thumb at another guard fast asleep in the shade.
Ali agreed and gave one last playful toss of the sword, sending it twirling high in the air only to catch it and place it back in Razoul’s belt. Show off thought Razoul as they headed inside the guard’s quarters.
Before they made it inside, an old merchant returning from a water well visit started to yell frenetically.
“What is that? There on the sand dunes!” The merchant was clutching his clay kudam under one arm and pointing to a cloaked figure in the distance slowly walking towards them.
Ali raised a hand to his brow to block the blinding sun just in time to see the figure collapse in the dry desert sand. Instantly he took off running towards the unfortunate traveler.
As he got closer Ali realized that the cloaked wanderer was a young woman no older than he. Dropping to his knees he lifted her head off the blistering sand and onto his lap.
“Water! Quick, bring some water!” He yelled to the guards and the small group of merchants headed towards him. Of course they were already carrying an oversized kudam, no doubt full of the stuff, but still he worried that they would not make it in time. Death by heat stroke in the desert was swift and unforgiving.
Ali looked back down at the unconscious girl. What was she doing crossing the desert alone? How could she have even made it this far without a horse? He brushed a patch of white sand from her cheek. She does have a beautiful face though.
With that soft touch the girl let out a moan and stirred, causing Ali to freeze.
Her right hand quickly went to her forehead and as she propped herself up on her left elbow the hood of her cloak slipped, releasing an enormous amount of thick golden blonde hair that cascaded down the back of her cloak and into Ali’s lap.
What in the world?
Ali thought for a moment that the desert heat had gotten to him too, that or Allah was playing tricks on his eyes, so he reached for her hair as if touching it would prove the color true. I’ve never seen another with hair like mine. Who is this girl?
“Water, your highness, give the lady some water.” Razoul and the others had finally reached them. A skinny man held out a wooden spoon which Ali handled carefully, as not to spill a single drop. “Thank you,” he told the merchant.
The girl was still rubbing her forehead but turned around to face Ali. As soon as she looked up at him the intense pain showing on her face immediately lightened and her hand dropped as she managed a weak smile.
“Here have some water, you must be thirsty.” The girl nodded in a quick and childlike manner that made Ali smile inside. He brought the spoon close to her lips. She sipped only half of the water before thanking him and rising to her feet.
Surprised, Ali frantically questioned the girl, “Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t you want some more water?” His quick reflects allowed him to catch her by the arm after she begun to topple over again.
“We all saw you collapse just a moment ago” said Razoul. “I must insist you come inside the city gates and lay down in the shade while I go fetch a doctor.”
“I’m fine” said the girl bringing her hand back to her forehead after a quick jolt of pain tore through her head. “I just have this awfully terrible headache.”
“What is your name?” asked Ali.
“My name?” The girl seemed confused by the question.
“Yeah, you know… that thing everyone calls you,” playfully responded Ali, giving her his father’s sideways boyish grin.
Unfortunately his charm was lost on her as confusion continued to cloud her eyes. “I… I don’t know what my name is.” It was apparent this answer scared her and her dark brown eyes darted from person to person hoping that they knew what her name might be.
She must have been out there in the sun longer than I thought. But how is it that she’s not thirsty? After a long journey even the most humble of souls drink Agrabah’s water greedily.
“Here, come with me my lady and I’ll let you rest in the guard’s chambers.” Razoul bowed respectfully and engulfed her hand in his gigantic grip.
“No, I’m fine really,” she slipped her small hand from his grasp, “You nice people can go about your business. I mean it. Don’t worry about me…” Her words were cut off by another sharp head pain that caused her to stubble backwards into Ali. He caught her just in time as she fell lifeless once more to the desert sand causing the crowd around the pair to gasp.
“That’s it! I’m taking her to the palace where the royal physician can have a look at her,” Ali sternly announced as he swooped the girl into his strong arms and begun to head through the crowd towards the palace gates.
The last thing Ali wanted was for the girl’s care to fall in the hands of the guards, or anyone else for that matter. He was too intrigued, and wanted to find out everything about her.
I hope she will be alright. I wish carpet were here with me so we could make it back to the palace faster.
Ali looked down at the girl as he carried her through Agrabah’s streets. Her long golden hair swaying with each step he took. Maybe father or mother will have some ideas about this hair of hers.
Behind him the merchants gossiped. Everyone knew Prince Ali was much like his father in that he always jumped at the chance to help the common folk, but the on-lookers could not help but notice the stranger’s light hair and discuss how its uncanny resemblance to Prince Ali’s probably sparked his interest in her.
“She has hair just like the Prince,” Razoul whispered to his second-in-command, “I’ve never seen a woman with hair as light as that. Beautiful though she is, I wouldn’t trust her if I was Ali. She is probably working for Mozenrath… or worse.”
Razoul and the crowd followed the determined Prince back into the city, returning to their fruit stands overflowing with sugar dates and pistachios to be sold.
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Chapter 2: The Yellow Flower
Author's Notes: Oh... So much fun to write =)
Thanks to sheena for the nice review!!
Disclaimer: I still don't own the Aladdin characters!
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Chapter 2: The Yellow Flower
Back at the palace Prince Ali waited anxiously outside the second floor guest room. He had taken the unconscious girl to this particular room because it was his favorite of the twenty-five chambers reserved especially for visitors. It was lavishly decorated and had a gorgeous view of the marketplace.
More importantly, the room brought back fond memories of a childhood friend who had once stayed at the palace with his parents during a short time of war with a neighboring kingdom.
The foreign boy had befriended Ali despite his abnormal appearance and they had spent many days playing with the Sultan’s toy figurines under the fluttering golden drapes that hung from all the balcony entryways.
Why is the doctor taking so long? And where is everyone?
Genie had left a few days ago for a distant land he called ‘Chinese’ in order to find the perfect gift for the Sultans’ birthday, which was in less than two weeks. His parents had said Genie would be back before sunset tonight, but the big blue guy was still missing. The absence of his odd sense of humor and anachronistic jokes, accompanied by his numerous and often dizzying shape shifting tricks, gave the palace a rather glum atmosphere.
That’s it, I can’t wait around here any longer or I’m going to go crazy. Ali threw on his feathered hat impatiently and took off around the corner towards the adjacent foyer causing Iago to smash squarely into Ali’s chest.
“Awk! Jeez, watch where you’re going kid! You could have bent the beak,” squawked the angry parrot while rubbing his nose with a ruffled wing.
“Sorry Iago, I didn’t mean to run into you.” Ali half-apologized to his friend while looking over his shoulder at the guest bedroom’s doors, an uneasy manner about his stance.
“What’s got your feathers in a bunch?”
“Nothing. It’s just… I found this girl outside the palace gates but she couldn’t remember anything and collapsed from the heat, so I brought her here and now the royal physician’s having a look at her. He’s taking forever and I’m worried the desert got to her before I did.” A depressed look crossed the Prince’s face as he glanced at the large carved doors for a second time.
“Ohhh I see. A girl has got you all flamingo flustered. No need to explain yourself. I hate mushy stuff anyways,” Iago stated matter-of-factly as he landed on Ali’s shoulder and smoothed out a few feathers.
Ali smiled while shaking his head at the bird. Iago never admitted to liking the young Prince, just as he never expressed his admiration for the love between his parents all these years. Perhaps the time he had spent as Jafar’s sidekick had erased his ability to confess feelings of such emotions. Allah knows the parrot was certainly capable of expressing the opposite.
Behind them the doctor quietly emerged from the guest room.
“There’s nothing mushy about—”
“Your highness,” whispered the tall, skinny man, cutting off Ali and causing him to swing around with such speed that Iago lost his grip and was sent tumbling into the air.
“How is the girl doing? Is she okay? Can I see her now?” Ali questioned the physician like a little kid while Iago dramatically rolled his eyes.
Running his fingers through his graying, bushy beard, the doctor gave a warm smile. “She is going to be fine,” he assured, although he lowered his voice and changed his tone as he continued, “But I’m afraid she is suffering from amnesia, long term memory loss.”
“Well I sort of figured that when she couldn’t remember her name earlier… but I thought that was just a temporary side-effect of crossing the dunes without any water. Will she ever get her memory back?”
The physician frowned. “If I knew the cause of the amnesia I might be able to diagnose the severity and extent of her condition. At this point, your guess is as good as mine. As for now, I recommend you not question the poor dear about her past as she seems extremely troubled and confused by her lack of memory.”
Ali nodded obediently and listened to the rest of the doctor’s suggestions. Upon thanking the man he hurried to the large oak doors and gently pushed them open with a soft swoosh.
Sitting upright in bed, Prince Ali was relieved to find the girl happily observing her surroundings. Turning her head towards him at the sound of approaching footsteps, the girl gave him an enormous smile.
“Finally, a familiar face!” she said as she scooted closer to the edge of the oversized bed, happy to recognize Ali.
Iago flapped inside the room after Ali and perched atop the bed’s headboard. He tilted his chest down in a bird-like manner, blue tail feathers sticking up in the air, head cocked to one side, as to get a better look at the girl’s hair.
“Oh boy… This explains the mushiness.”
“How cute! A talking parrot!” giggled the girl after twisting around to see her inspector.
“This is my always crass, yet wonderfully trustworthy friend, Iago,” said Ali, introducing the bird and taking a seat on a small wooden stool next to the bed.
Iago bowed, bringing one wing to his chest as the girl tickled the underside of his chin with a finger, which the parrot seemed to enjoy very much.
“It’s really a pleasure to meet ya and all, but I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” Ali and the girl blushed for a second at Iago’s statement, but he continued, “There’s treasure to be counted and grapes to be eaten. See you around,” squawked the bird as he flapped up and out of the room.
Once Iago had left, Ali apologized for his friend’s behavior, “I’m sorry but you’ll have to get used to Iago saying pretty much whatever he wants, whenever he wants.” As he spoke he removed his hat and began to play with the purple feather.
“That’s okay. I don’t mind,” insisted the still cheerful girl.
“Good… Are you feeling alright?” asked Ali with concern apparent in his tone. “You took quite a tumble out there in the desert… two actually.”
“I feel fine. My headaches are gone… And those hurt something awful, let me tell you!” added the girl with a giggle.
She sure does like to giggle. Thought Ali as he smiled back at her. He looked down at his turban once more and remembered the royal physician’s words. But I just have to find out where she is from... He drew a deep breath and dared to ask her a few questions.
“So you don’t remember anything before meeting me outside the city? Like where you lived or who your family is? Nothing at all?” questioned Ali, ready to analyze even the smallest bit of information he could dig up.
The girl’s smile disappeared and she looked down at her hands as well, “Nothing at all. Not even my mother or father… Not a single person,” replied the now teary-eyed blonde.
“But you have to recall something… a name or a place maybe?” urged the Prince, still clinging to his faith in her memory.
“I wish I did,” she stammered as tears began to drop down her cheeks.
Realizing he had asked too many questions at once and recklessly discarded the doctor’s advice, Ali scolded himself and took one of her hands in his.
“Shh, shh… don’t cry. I’m sorry,” he whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek and running his thumb over her fingertips. “Enough about you, lets talk about me,” he insisted playfully, giving her his sideways grin.
“Alright,” laughed the girl, calming down to some extent as Ali released her hand, but instantly fretting again when she couldn’t remember her new friend’s name. “Oh no! It’s happening again! I can’t remember your name either!” she exclaimed with fear in her brown eyes as they darted back and forth just like they had earlier out in the desert.
“Well that’s because I never told you it!” quickly remarked Ali, as the girl gave a small sigh. He was happy to see relief brightening her face once more.
“You sort of passed out before I got the chance to introduce myself,” he murmured while scratching his head.
“I am Prince Ali of Agrabah,” he announced as he rose to give her a low, respectful bow just as Iago had done moments before. “And this,” he continued, “Is my parent’s palace,” making a sweeping gesture of the room. “Well… this is just a guest room… I’ll have to show you around later,” he added awkwardly.
From the bed the girl clapped her hands and giggled. “So you’re a Prince?” she asked while scrunching her nose with dislike, “I guess that explains the funny looking hat.”
“Now wait a minute. What’s wrong with being a Prince?” Ali playfully shot back.
“Oh nothing, I don’t know… I just don’t think I like Princes very much. Not that I remember why. I just don’t think I did… or do. Anyways it is very nice to make your acquaintance Prince Ali of Agrabah,” laughed the girl as she gave him her best sitting curtsey.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You should meet my mother. She doesn’t like Princes very much either… Stuffed shirt, swaggering peacocks she calls them,” he added with a smile. Ali lovingly recalled the stories he had been told about his mother’s methods for arranged marriage retaliation.
“Well that’s odd, considering she married one,” the girl giggled from her spot on the bed.
“Actually, she didn’t. But that’s another story,” replied Ali, secretly hoping he’d get to be the one to tell her the many tales of Aladdin and Jasmine’s adventures.
“Oh… well I’m happy for her then,” she said with a warm smile.
Prince Ali grinned at her comment and couldn’t help but adore how quickly the girl was able to bounce back from a completely depressed state. He caught himself staring at her and cleared his throat as the girl played with the sheets in her lap and bashfully looked away.
“So why do you want to know all that stuff about me? Does Agrabah normally not allow outsiders to come inside the city?” questioned the girl in order to break the awkward moment.
“No, no… it’s not that. Our kingdom welcomes visitors. It’s just… well, I’ve never seen someone with hair like yours before,” Ali shyly admitted, running a hand through his own blonde, untamed mane.
“My hair?” The girl looked confused. She grabbed a hand full of her golden locks and pulled it over her shoulder to inspect it for abnormalities. “I guess it is rather thick, and long,” she said, raising her elbow to see it resting in the sheets. “There’s so much of it… I should tie it back, huh?”
Prince Ali let out a rich laugh and shook his head in amusement. “No, not all that! The color! Your hair is as light as mine. Don’t you think it’s odd?”
“Well… I can’t remember. Is it strange?” questioned the girl as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
Inwardly chucking at the girl’s naive statements on the matter, Ali gave up and changed the subject. “Never mind… I think it’s lovely,” he declared, making her blush a little and causing them to both look away once more.
A knock at the door caused Ali to swing around in place as a handsome dark-haired man entered the room.
“There you are! I wondered when Razoul would get around to telling you I was up here,” said a pleased Ali.
Turning back to the girl he introduced the man with pride apparent in his every word. “This is my father, Aladdin.”
“Oh! So you’re the Sultan? It’s very nice to meet you King Aladdin,” said the happy girl as she bowed for the second time.
Aladdin let out a laugh identical to that of his son’s and corrected the girl, “King Aladdin? No need for that, the Sultan’s still alive and kicking so that just makes me a prince. But you can call me Al. Prince Aladdin just sounds funny to me.”
“I’m the only one around here that seems to like the title,” Ali teasingly interjected.
“That’s my boy,” Aladdin responded while playfully ruffling his son’s hair.
The girl giggled and Aladdin gave her an affectionate smile. “You must have dinner with us tonight,” offered Aladdin, “I think Genie’s whipping up a few dishes he learned to make on his trip to China.”
“Alright,” responded the girl, looking at Prince Ali for assurance. “But I don’t have anything besides these rags to wear,” acknowledging both men’s royal attire.
“Don’t worry, Jasmine will stop by to show you to her old room where I’m sure she has closets full of outfits just your size,” Aladdin guaranteed.
“Okay, thank you. That’s very kind of you guys.”
“No problem. I have to go now… I heard Genie’s back and I know what kind of trouble he can get himself into when he’s overly excited about vacation details,” said Aladdin as he gave the girl a grin and wave goodbye.
“I think I’ll come with you father.” Ali quickly turned back to the girl, “Will you be alright by yourself for a little while? I want to go see Genie before dinner,” Ali asked, feeling bad for leaving her alone.
“I’ll be fine! Is it okay if I go out on the balcony? The doctor said I should take it easy, but I feel fine now,” the girl questioned while playing with her hair.
“Knock yourself out!” exclaimed Aladdin, “I’ve always thought the royal physician worries too much.” He gave the smiling girl a wink and turned to leave the room.
“I’ll see you at dinner then,” Ali kindly told her, placing his hat back on his head and following his father out the door.
Whew! Thought the abandoned girl as she looked around the lavishly decorated guest room once more. So I’m staying at a palace. I don’t know whether I have been inside one before. I wish I could remember… And why don’t I like Princes? I can’t believe Ali is one. I should have known… he’s so handsome and tall. Not that you have to be tall to be a Prince. But he probably has tons of Princesses throwing themselves at him daily. A wave of envy and sadness washed over her so she shook the feeling by hopping out of bed and walking towards the balcony.
Wow, what a gorgeous view! Agrabah I believed he called it… it sure is lovely at sunset.
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“Looks as though the sky was painted by Allah himself, doesn’t it?” came a bubbly male voice from behind her.
The girl snapped back from her thoughts, wondering how long she had been out on the balcony, and looked over her shoulder. She found the voice belonged to a smiling, short, white-haired man. “You must be the Sultan of Agrabah… I tried calling Aladdin that earlier and he chastised me for it!”
“Yes, yes I’m the Sultan. But no, no none of that nonsense,” he mumbled, preventing her from finishing her curtsey. The Sultan had an absent minded manner about him, causing the girl to give him one of her trademark giggles.
He waddled past her and threw an elbow on the ledge of the balcony, murmuring something about his responsibility as Sultan to welcome all palace guests.
“I found a flower once… Yes, yes I did. Interesting it was!” proclaimed the old man, drawing the girl closer to listen to his ramblings. She was unsure as to exactly what he was talking about, and why he had decided to start discussing a flower.
“Yellow. A yellow flower amongst my Jasmines,” the Sultan giggled almost as childlike as the girl and continued, “Now what was the flower’s name?” he wondered aloud, tapping a finger to his chin and bushing his dark eyebrows.
“Is that why you named your daughter Jasmine? Are Jasmines your favorite flower?” the girl hesitantly inquired, not fully expecting a coherent answer.
“No! No! Her mother… her mother chose the name!” he responded rather resolutely and turned from the balcony edge to face her. “I must be going now. There, there my dear,” patting the girl on the arm as he passed, “I shall see you at the dinner table.”
The girl beamed and nodded her head. “Thank you for your wonderful hospitality. Your palace and city is beautiful,” responded the girl.
“Yes, yes… that’ll be… pretty good,” mumbled the Sultan as he headed towards the golden balcony curtains.
What a sweet grandfather. The girl thought to herself with admiration.
“Lily!” shouted the Sultan as he turned around to face her once more, “the yellow flower was a land lily,” he exclaimed with joy before turning to disappear behind the sheer drapes.
Jeez that scared me! Lily... Such a pretty name for a flower.
A gentle breeze swept through the city streets, stirring some loose sand and rustling the hanging pots of a nearby merchant’s stand. By the time it made its way up to the balcony of the girl’s guest bedroom she was already lost in her daydreams, and barely noticed the way the soft wind played with her golden locks.
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