A/N: I saw the live-action Aladdin movie and, while I may be in the minority on this one, I loved Marwan Kenzari as Jafar! So, I created a love interest for him and found myself coming up with this idea. If you remember it from the Aladdin live-action movie, I don't own it. The only exception is Abbas, who belongs to hello_mintbloom from Archive of Our Own and graciously let me use her character. I'd also like to thank onlyindreams145 for beta-reading this fanfic. Also, I'm treating Agrabah as a fantastical world, so it won't be entirely accurate to the time period it supposedly takes place in or Musslim culture.

Warning: This chapter contains misogyny, a conversation about forcing a pre-teen girl into marriage, discussion about de-flowering a young teenage boy, a rape fantasy, masturbation and, as the story goes further, it only gets worse from here.

* * *

"Her eyes are Babylonian eyes and eyebrows like the crescent moon of Ramadan. Her body straight as in a canal."
-Jaffar (Thief of Baghdad 1940)

Amana let her body sway to the music, her hands clasped together and moving horizontally and diagonally while her hips moved to the beat, paying no heed to the guests as she raised her arms to her sides, giving herself entirely to the beat. Amana moved her body side to side, swaying her arms along with her hips until the music ended and she found herself greeted by loud applause. Amana stepped off the stage, her body dripping beads of sweat from the dance as her body ached for rest. She searched around the estate to see it decorated with various trees, the lanterns decorating the ceiling, the wooden floor decorated with rugs of various designs and colors while the guests mingled among each other dressed in the finest Arabian silks as the servants carried trays with all assortments of drinks from red wine to clean water. Heydar, her bodyguard, stood in the corner, standing out with his ordinary red vest and white hakim pants, a sword equipped at his side. Amana finally spotted was she was looking for; the refreshments table filled with plates of freshly cooked lamb and chicken alongside plates of bread with bowls of fruit filled with dates, grapes, watermelons and pomegranate. She was about to head there when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Amana turned around to see that it belonged to the Amir who hired her.

"Lady Amana," the Amir greeted. "On behalf of my son, I must thank you for agreeing to perform."

"Thank you, Amir," Amana said with a smile. "I am sure that your son appreciates how much effort you put into planning his birthday."

"My son is coming of age. I felt that this birthday should be a memorable one," he explained proudly. "Perhaps I might also request you for a private meeting with him."

"I'd be delighted," Amana said, the refreshments table looking very good to her right now. "But perhaps we can discuss this at a later time."

"Of course," the Amir said, taking his leave of her as he went to greet the other guests.

Amana was about to continue her journey, when a skinny old man with a long grey beard and wearing robes of blue stopped her. "That was a great performance," he said to her with a sleazy grin as Amana wondered how many obstacles there was going to be between her and the food. "I know I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"Thank you, Minister," she responded as politely as possible, remembering the man as Abbas, the Minister of Infrastructure, the one responsible for keeping the economy of Agrabah stable but often used his power to satisfy himself.

"How much would it cost for a private dance?" Abbas asked her, moving closer to Amana than she found comfortable.

"If you wish to request me privately, then you may talk to my Madam, Ishtar, with a written request," Amana said, her voice getting more venomous as she moved away from Abbas.

"Why go through her when you're right here?" Abbas said, retrieving coins from his pocket as Heydar glared at him from his corner. "How much would it cost you?" Abbas threw three gold pieces at Amana's feet as Heydar took a step forward. "Three gold pieces?" Amana waved her hand at Heydar, keeping him in place as he threw another gold piece. "Four?"

Amana fought every urge to knee this man where it would hurt the most. "I am a lady of the court, not a lady of the streets," she told him with barely concealed fury.

"A whore's a whore," the man told her dismissively. "There's really no difference."

"Actually, there is a difference," Amana said, kicking the gold pieces Abbas's way. "You could get a whore."

Then she finally made her way to the refreshments table, taking a few grapes from the bowl and popping one into her mouth, the sweet taste of the succulent fruit helping her momentarily forget her anger. At least, until she heard footsteps behind her.

"If you did not understand my actions earlier, Minister, I was rejecting you," Amana said defiantly as she turned around to face the old lecher. "And there is—"

Amana stopped herself when she saw that the footsteps didn't belong to Abbas but to a tall, dark and handsome man dressed in robes of black, red and gold, carrying a snake staff with a parrot perched on his shoulder. "Forgive me, Grand Vizier," she said quickly, "I believe I mistook you for someone else."

"Such as the Minister of Infrastructure?" Jafar guessed bitterly.

"Abbas," the parrot repeated, making Amana laugh.

"Yes," Amana admitted, popping another grape into her mouth and swallowing it. "I suppose you witnessed what happened?"

"Watching the man humiliate himself was rather entertaining," Jafar admitted with a slight sense of amusement. "Though you might have made a powerful enemy."

Amana had one more grape in her hand that she was about to pop into her mouth but, instead, held it out for the parrot with a smile. "Then I suppose I might need someone to protect me," the parrot took the grape from Amana's hand and swallowed it whole. "Someone strong, powerful, intelligent, handsome and maybe well-dressed." The parrot flew off Jafar's shoulder and perched itself on Amana's arm, who petted the adorable bird and said to him in a high-pitched voice. "Sorry, little bird, but you just don't meet the criteria."

"If this is an attempt to seduce me, I should tell you that I am not as easily swayed as Iago," Jafar warned her.

Amana continued petting and cooing over the parrot. "Is that your name, little boy, Iago?" she asked him in a high-pitched voice and turned her eyes to the Grand Vizier, changing her voice back to normal. "I suppose you'll do."

The Grand Vizier's grip on his snake staff tightened while Iago perched himself back on his master's shoulder. "You suppose?"

"As Grand Vizier, you are much more powerful than a simple Minister," Amana said thoughtfully. "In fact, if you did agree to protect me from him, I would be very..." She took a small step toward the Grand Vizier and ran her finger on his smooth, neatly trimmed beard. "Grateful."

"And how much would your 'gratitude' cost me?" Jafar asked her, keeping his stoic expression but Amana could see a slight twinkle in his onyx eyes.

Amana moved closer to Jafar. "Is money really an issue for a man as powerful as you?" she whispered into his ear.

Jafar stayed silent, and then quickly moved away from Amana.

"Just because I have money doesn't mean that I should spend it frivolously," The Grand Vizier responded coldly, making Amana laugh.

"A man who puts his brain before his desires," she said admirably. "Well, I assure you, I have never had one unhappy patron."

Jafar just stayed silent as she walked away from him and swayed her hips. "Suppose I did take you up on your offer," he began. "What would I need to do?"

Amana smiled as she turned around to face the Grand Vizier. "You will have to submit a written request to my Madam, Ishtar," she began. "Then she passes the request to me and, if I deem it worthy, I might say yes."

Amana kept a close eye on Jafar, watching for signs of interest. "And what sort of requests do you receive?" he asked her.

"Any request will be acceptable," Amana explained innocently. "Whether you need an entertainer, someone to accompany you to a party," and then gave a slight suggestive tone. "Or just someone to keep you company."

Jafar stood silently for a minute as Amana was about to leave and then spoke to her retreating form. "Very well, Lady Amana," he said to her nonchalantly. "I will consider requesting your services."

* * *

Amana returned to the brothel with Heydar where Ishtar was waiting for them in the center chair.

"Amana, Heydar," Ishtar said, acknowledging each one of them. "How was the event?"

"It was mostly pleasant, save for a few... darker moments," Amana told her Madam.

"One of the men treated Amana like a common whore," Heydar wasted no time pointing out.

"Unfortunately, Heydar chooses to only see the darker moments," Amana said sarcastically.

"Really?" Ishtar asked protectively, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. "Which one?"

"The Minister of Infrastructure himself," Heydar answered bitterly, his hand clutching his sword. "Abbas."

"He approached me during the party and behaved in a most ungentlemanly manner," Amana said, crossing her arms as anger seeped through her voice at the memory. "I made it clear to him that I would not stand for this kind of treatment and he would never have the pleasure of my company."

"My sincerest apologies, Amana," Ishtar told Amana compassionately and then hesitantly followed it up with. "Rest assured, if he treats my establishment in the same manner, I will have him blacklisted.

Amana could tell that Ishtar didn't like having to blacklist a wealthy client. "As I said earlier, the night was rather pleasant," she assured her. "The Amir wishes to hire me to make his son a man, and I have managed to draw the attention of the Grand Vizier of Agrabah."

"You managed to convince the Grand Vizier to become a patron?" Ishtar asked with disbelief as she sat back down in her chair.

"He said that he would consider requesting my services," Amana said thoughtfully. "But I am quite certain that I left an impression on him."

"I am pleased to hear," Ishtar told Amana with a nod. "Now you both have had a long day. It would be best if you retired to your bedchambers."

"Yes, Madame," Amana and Heydar said in unison and headed straight for the circular stairs.

"You sound certain that the Grand Vizier was interested," Heydar said as they walked up the stairs.

"Good," Amana responded, letting some of her confidence slip from earlier.

"I was keeping an eye on you during the party, making sure there wasn't another incident," Heydar informed Amana. "He seemed rather... intrigued by you."

"How intrigued?" Amana asked him.

"He was rather fond of your..." Heydar hesitated, as if he wasn't quite sure how to voice his next words to a lady. "...assets."

This made Amana smile. "Then I left more of an impression on him than I thought," she said proudly.

"I'd be careful around him, if I were you," Heydar warned her. "I've heard rumors about the Grand Vizier and they're not exactly flattering."

"So have I," Amana told Heydar, recalling some of the nasty things she had heard about Jafar. "But powerful men tend to get a bad reputation."

"I hope you're right," Heydar said as he stopped on his floor and went to his bedchamber.

* * *

Jafar went back to the palace to see The Sultan poring over his papers in his private rooms. "Good evening, my Sultan," he greeted bitterly.

"Jafar," the Sultan said, not looking up from his books. "How was the Amir's son's birthday party?"

Of course, the young spoiled son of the Amir who was coming of age. Since he wanted to make it a memorable event, he invited all of the important people of Agrabah to attend. Unfortunately, the Sultan couldn't make it due to having to attend to his many obligations, so he sent Jafar in his place.

Must be so nice being the Sultan, Jafar thought bitterly. If you don't want to attend an event, just send one of your loyal servants to suffer on your behalf.

"The usual, incessant chattering, mindless sycophantism and frivolous spending," Jafar voiced aloud.

The Sultan laughed. "I take it you didn't enjoy yourself," he said.

"The only part I enjoyed was leaving," Jafar responded icily.

"Liar!" Iago squawked.

Jafar really wanted to punch that bird but, thankfully, the Sultan paid no heed to Iago's comment. "I hope that you at least pretended to enjoy yourself," he told him. "It wouldn't do well if my representative behaved poorly."

"I do know how to conduct myself at a social event," Jafar informed the Sultan, holding back his rage. "Whether I wish to be there or not."

"Forgive me, Jafar," The Sultan quickly said. "I have been rather preoccupied with conducting trade with Basra, I had to oversee the punishment of a man who was committing treason, and plan Jasmine's birthday party."

"Yes, the princess's birthday," Jafar said, recalling another matter he needed to discuss with the Sultan. "I believe that she's turning twelve this year?"

The Sultan nodded. "Soon she will become a woman," he said with a bit of melancholy.

"And she will be ready to bear children," Jafar pointed out. "Have you selected a prince for her to marry yet?"

"I am prepared to receive suitors for Jasmine," The Sultan responded thoughtfully. "But the final choice will be hers."

"That is absolutely foolish!" Jafar exclaimed.

"Jafar!" The Sultan warned as if he were dealing with a spoiled child.

"As you have already pointed out, the princess is becoming a woman!" Jafar argued, doing his best to contain his rage. "We must use her to form an alliance with a strong nation!"

"I won't force my daughter to marry a man she doesn't love!" The Sultan responded protectively as he shot up from his seat. "You forget your place!"

Jafar's grip on his staff tightened, fighting every urge to shout at the Sultan for his insolence. "Forgive me, my Sultan," he forced through his teeth as he readied his staff. "I understand that forcing the princess to marry would be hard for you, but you need to put the well-being of Agrabah above the well-being of your daughter."

"I intend to look out for both," the Sultan said, taking his seat once again and returning to his papers.

* * *

Jafar was fuming in his lair. "First, I have to go celebrate some spoiled brat's birthday in the Sultan's place, then a glorified whore tries to manipulate me!"

"You mean the pretty lady?" Iago interrupted.

"Yes, the pretty lady," Jafar said bitterly.

She was far more than pretty, she was beautiful with skin like a light olive, hair a rich dark brown that fell into thick waves covered only by a red shawl, eyes as green as the leaves in the garden. Jafar momentarily forgot his anger as he remembered watching Amana dance, how her large breasts moved side to side under that red top with the gold beads dangling from underneath. He remembered how her child-bearing hips swayed with the music and then seeing that up close when she walked away, drawing attention to her rear in those tight red hakim pants. How she ran her finger through his beard while telling him how grateful she'd be for his protection. How she whispered in his ear, feeling her breath touch his skin as he inhaled her sweet scent of lavender, imagining taking her right then and there, not even caring what the guests think. He felt his loins ache as he thought about buying Amana for one night just to see how grateful she'd be. Then he imagined the foreign whore laughing at him with her friends about how she has the Grand Vizier eating out of the palm of her hand, replacing his arousal with rage.

The woman had to be foreign and, if she was Arabian, she certainly wasn't fully Arabian. Jafar was sure that she used her exotic appeal to her advantage... and his. Maybe he would purchase her, but he wouldn't let her control him. Jafar's arousal returned as he pictured Amana in his bedchamber, teasing him but refusing to give in. He stuck his hand under his robes and then pumped his arousal as he imagined grabbing her arms and forcing her on his bed, ripping off her clothes as she would put up a fight, but to no avail. Then she'd scream and cry, begging him for mercy but he'd slap her, tell that whore to shut up. He pumped himself harder and harder as he imagined taking Amana right then and there while she screamed and struggled. Then her screams of pain turned into screams of pleasure. After his final thrust, she'd swear her undying devotion to him, finally learning her place. This thought alone allotted him release.

* * *

Amana finished her bath and went to her room, wearing nothing but a robe. With a large wooden floor, a long plush bed decorated in pink and red covered only by a clear sheet, a wooden dresser to the side decorated with flowers and jewelry she'd received from her many patrons and a mirror attached to it, and the clear doors that led to the balcony. Her room was fit for a princess. No, a princess would have this luxury handed to her at birth. Every luxury Amana had she earned, payment from Ishtar for being her most desired lady of the court. It was a position she planned to keep and getting the Grand Vizier as a client would be a huge help.

Amana remembered meeting Jafar at the party. She's seen him from afar, making note of how handsome he is. It wasn't until she saw the Grand Vizier up close that she could truly appreciate that golden brown skin, those onyx eyes, that black beard so neatly trimmed, remembering how smooth it felt when she touched it with her finger. How she whispered in his ear, seeing a tuft of black hair poke out from his turban. Then she surprised him by backing up and still maintaining his pose and dignity with those elegant black, red and golden robes and the snake staff that he kept by his side. Amana found herself wondering what the snake staff was for, clearly not for helping him walk. Maybe it was magical, like her own snake bracelet, or maybe Jafar just saw it in the Bazaar and thought it would complete his look. Amana was sure that Jafar would tell her. It usually took one night with a man for them to tell Amana their deepest darkest secrets but, for Jafar, it might take longer. She didn't mind, it would give her a nice challenge, one she'd greatly enjoy.

Amana plopped down on her bed as she imagined a night with the handsome vizier. He'd be stressed from his job and seek Amana for comfort in her bedchamber, which she'd gladly provide by massaging his shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Then he'd turn around and take her in a passionate kiss, wasting no time as they removed each other's clothes. She'd still cover her breasts just to tease him, but she'd lower her arms eventually. Amana played with her nipples, imagining Jafar's fingers as he stroked her breasts, getting a warm feeling between her legs. Then she lowered her right hand to her jewel, tending to it as she imagined Jafar's finger in its place. Amana stuck her two left fingers into her wet cave, pretending that it was Jafar's hardness thrusting inside of her as she told him the very words he'd want to hear and, just like any other patron, he'd become another puppet, praying that Amana doesn't cut his strings.

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A/N: So, what did you think? I'll admit, I had a little trouble with themasturbation scenes, especially Jafar's and had to rewrite it a few times. Also, I understand that some of you mighthave found certain content disturbing but, at the time, they did force youngpre-teen girls into marriage right after they had their period and, when youngboys came of age, it was a rite of passage for them to penetrate a prostitute. In Song of Ice and Fire (the books Game ofThrones is adapted from), a thirteen-year-old Danaerys was forced into marriagewith a grown man. In HBO's Rome, a youngOctavian was forced to go to a brothel against his will. Anyway, pleasereview because that keeps me motivated. If you want your character tohave a cameo, feel free to PM me about it. I'm also open to RPing ifyou're interested.