A/N: Ok folks here it is, my first ever posted even part way completed
story! Please be gentle with me, I don't take criticism well, and any and
all flames will be used for roasting marshmallows! Oh and please, please r
& r, I'd really appreciate it ; )
***
A fight could be heard thought the castle corridors. If one followed the voices, they could be found coming from two people, standing in a great hall. One, the youngest, a boy in the process of becoming of man, had dark black hair, a pair of steaming blue eyes the color of the ocean on a bright day, a strong jaw and a straight handsome nose. He stood at about 6' and his body was covered in a loose white shirt, open at the neck, with a fancy vest, embroiled with beads of every color. His pants were simple in fashion yet one could tell they could withstand much stress and were very well made, they were beige in color. His shoes, as well, were simple, but durable and made of good leather.
The second man had the same black hair as the first, but his had streaks of gray in it, indicating he had a good start in the years from the boy in front of him. His eyes, unlike the boys were a deep rich brown, the color of freshly dug earth. And although he had wrinkles on the far corners of his eyes from laughing one could tell he was still young, both in age and in heart, only in his late 30s to early 40s. His jaw was hard and straight, and his nose looked liked it was once like that, as well, but must have been broken, an affect which added a slight bump to it. He was clothed in an off white shirt, buttoned at the neck, loose pants that once must have been white, but from much wear and use were now a light brown, khaki color. He was in very casual dress.
The walls in the hall were 10' tall and on them hung huge tapestries, sewn with gold thread, enough treasure to satisfy even the king of thieves (for a while at least) lay within their folds. The floors were decorated with marble tiles, and the ceiling had been wonderfully arched; held up with beams made of sparkling limestone.
Father and son, or sultan and prince as would probably be more appropriate considering their conversation. They were having yet another argument about how a young price should behave.
"I'm not a child anymore; I'm 17 years old for Allah's sake! I'm sick of being treated like I'm 4. Prince Dekal said; sounding not very pleased at his new predicament. "There is no way that I am going to have two burly, beefy men follow me around all day with swords in their hands; I'm perfectly able of taking care of myself" the prince said with a humph. He was talking about the body his father was going to give him to force him to stay within the palace walls. "Besides its not as if I was in any danger, I had Javad with me after all," the prince said, referring to his monkey (a product of Abu's fling with a Hiyya monkey) using a matter-of-fact tone.
"Oh that's comforting, so you and Javad your monkey snuck out of the palace, and you're telling me not to worry? I suppose it was his idea too hmm?" Aladdin, the sultan said; sounding very angry.
" I will not tolerate my son, and may I mention my only son, and heir to this throne, sneaking out of the palace, and not telling anyone where he is going, or when he plans on coming back."
"Do have any idea how worried about you your mother and I have been? Not to mention Asul, if you could have seen how white his face was when he came into your mother's and my room; finding us in a very compromising position, I might add, and reporting that you had not come to lessons that morning. You are never ever to miss another lesson ever again. Do I make my self clear?"
"I don't see why I have to go to those stupid classes anyway." The prince said, mumbling. "They are so boring, and all he talks about Arabia this, and Arabia that. I'm sick of it. Its not like what he lectures me about has anything to do with today, all the stuff he teaches took place hundreds of years ago!" The prince said; sounding put out at the thought of having to attend Asul's lessons.
"As long as you live under my roof you will obey my rules; and those include going to Asul's lessons, and no sneaking out of the palace."
"But."
"There will be no if, ans, or buts about it. You will not sneak out of the palace. You will not be allowed out of the palace walls and you will attend every class that Asul schedules, no matter how boring they are; I do not care. They are for your own good.
"Fine then maybe I just wouldn't live under your roof any more." The prince said as he stormed away from his father.
"Some day you will thank me for this" Aladdin, the sultan sighed long after his son had walked away. He just hoped it would sooner, rather than later.
***
Mean while on a dirty little side street in the city of Arabia sat a girl, a "street rat" if you prefer those words. But the girl in question prefers to be called someone who "lives of the street." She was dirty and in great need of a bath, and she knew it, but were on earth would she find clean water; her being someone who "lives of the street" after all.
The girl was to proud to whore, or become a concubine, even though she did have the look, under the layer of grime that presently coated her. Black hair dark as night that, when clean shone as bright as the sun. She also had eyes as green as grass, a petite, elfin like nose that lifted upward slightly at the end to give her a look that was other worldly. Her body was slim, almost too much, from not eating, but when she ate regular meals, which was just about never for her, she filled out quite nicely. She was currently in rags. Wearing a shirt that was probably from what she could tell once beautiful, fit to belong to a queen, but now it was torn and old, and the only person who would willing wear it, was her. But she could imagine how it must have looked, all sequined with jewels and gold. She also had a shawl, which once must have been beautiful as well. But now, threw use and wear it was starting to fringe along the edge; even though she tried her hardest to keep it intact. Next was her skirt, and once again it must have been a wonderful thing to behold, it overlapped in the middle and once must have had a design on it for she could sometimes, in the light make out a faint pattern. When night fell, she would light a candle, and dance, and pretend that she was a princess.
Imagination she sometimes thought was the only thing that kept her alive some days. For with out it she would be forced to succumb to the realities of life, and if she did that, if she ever looked at the big picture and saw just how desperate she'd become, she would surly go insane, and die. So that is the reason that though out all the hardship that she faced, that she would face in her life time, how ever sort or long it may be, she would always have her imagination.
So because she was too proud to become a concubine or a whore she was forced to steal. It wasn't all that bad though. She found a nice abandoned place that had a beautiful, view of the palace, and it looks like whoever lived there before her had taken good care of the place. Whoever lived there before her also looked like they had left in kind-of a hurry, considering they left everything behind.
'Oh well' thought the girl when she had time to sit and ponder about such things. 'Maybe they died' she would think on her worst days, 'died a horrible, awful, gruesome death' and on her better days she would think that maybe this was were the sultan had lived before he became, well sultan. After all they do say he had once a long time ago lived on the streets, like her. And then on some days she wouldn't really care why the person had left because she was too worried about finding a way to feed herself.
But she was thankful, thankful that who ever had lived here before her did leave their possessions because to tell the truth she wasn't that good of a thief, the thought of being caught stealing candles or anything of such value sent shivers down her spine. Thoughts like 'what if I was caught; I'd be put in the palace dungeon for life, and starve.' One of her worst nightmares was sitting in a dark little hole, whittling away to nothing while the rats ate at her flesh. She shivered, the day she landed on the street she swore that she would never ever starve. That was why she was thankful for who ever had lived there before her, because they had left her candles, candles to create light, and for that she owed this person her fear, fear of darkness that sometimes consumed her, until she lit one of those candles and it remained her that no matter how dark her world get, there would always be light.
***
To be continued.......
***
A fight could be heard thought the castle corridors. If one followed the voices, they could be found coming from two people, standing in a great hall. One, the youngest, a boy in the process of becoming of man, had dark black hair, a pair of steaming blue eyes the color of the ocean on a bright day, a strong jaw and a straight handsome nose. He stood at about 6' and his body was covered in a loose white shirt, open at the neck, with a fancy vest, embroiled with beads of every color. His pants were simple in fashion yet one could tell they could withstand much stress and were very well made, they were beige in color. His shoes, as well, were simple, but durable and made of good leather.
The second man had the same black hair as the first, but his had streaks of gray in it, indicating he had a good start in the years from the boy in front of him. His eyes, unlike the boys were a deep rich brown, the color of freshly dug earth. And although he had wrinkles on the far corners of his eyes from laughing one could tell he was still young, both in age and in heart, only in his late 30s to early 40s. His jaw was hard and straight, and his nose looked liked it was once like that, as well, but must have been broken, an affect which added a slight bump to it. He was clothed in an off white shirt, buttoned at the neck, loose pants that once must have been white, but from much wear and use were now a light brown, khaki color. He was in very casual dress.
The walls in the hall were 10' tall and on them hung huge tapestries, sewn with gold thread, enough treasure to satisfy even the king of thieves (for a while at least) lay within their folds. The floors were decorated with marble tiles, and the ceiling had been wonderfully arched; held up with beams made of sparkling limestone.
Father and son, or sultan and prince as would probably be more appropriate considering their conversation. They were having yet another argument about how a young price should behave.
"I'm not a child anymore; I'm 17 years old for Allah's sake! I'm sick of being treated like I'm 4. Prince Dekal said; sounding not very pleased at his new predicament. "There is no way that I am going to have two burly, beefy men follow me around all day with swords in their hands; I'm perfectly able of taking care of myself" the prince said with a humph. He was talking about the body his father was going to give him to force him to stay within the palace walls. "Besides its not as if I was in any danger, I had Javad with me after all," the prince said, referring to his monkey (a product of Abu's fling with a Hiyya monkey) using a matter-of-fact tone.
"Oh that's comforting, so you and Javad your monkey snuck out of the palace, and you're telling me not to worry? I suppose it was his idea too hmm?" Aladdin, the sultan said; sounding very angry.
" I will not tolerate my son, and may I mention my only son, and heir to this throne, sneaking out of the palace, and not telling anyone where he is going, or when he plans on coming back."
"Do have any idea how worried about you your mother and I have been? Not to mention Asul, if you could have seen how white his face was when he came into your mother's and my room; finding us in a very compromising position, I might add, and reporting that you had not come to lessons that morning. You are never ever to miss another lesson ever again. Do I make my self clear?"
"I don't see why I have to go to those stupid classes anyway." The prince said, mumbling. "They are so boring, and all he talks about Arabia this, and Arabia that. I'm sick of it. Its not like what he lectures me about has anything to do with today, all the stuff he teaches took place hundreds of years ago!" The prince said; sounding put out at the thought of having to attend Asul's lessons.
"As long as you live under my roof you will obey my rules; and those include going to Asul's lessons, and no sneaking out of the palace."
"But."
"There will be no if, ans, or buts about it. You will not sneak out of the palace. You will not be allowed out of the palace walls and you will attend every class that Asul schedules, no matter how boring they are; I do not care. They are for your own good.
"Fine then maybe I just wouldn't live under your roof any more." The prince said as he stormed away from his father.
"Some day you will thank me for this" Aladdin, the sultan sighed long after his son had walked away. He just hoped it would sooner, rather than later.
***
Mean while on a dirty little side street in the city of Arabia sat a girl, a "street rat" if you prefer those words. But the girl in question prefers to be called someone who "lives of the street." She was dirty and in great need of a bath, and she knew it, but were on earth would she find clean water; her being someone who "lives of the street" after all.
The girl was to proud to whore, or become a concubine, even though she did have the look, under the layer of grime that presently coated her. Black hair dark as night that, when clean shone as bright as the sun. She also had eyes as green as grass, a petite, elfin like nose that lifted upward slightly at the end to give her a look that was other worldly. Her body was slim, almost too much, from not eating, but when she ate regular meals, which was just about never for her, she filled out quite nicely. She was currently in rags. Wearing a shirt that was probably from what she could tell once beautiful, fit to belong to a queen, but now it was torn and old, and the only person who would willing wear it, was her. But she could imagine how it must have looked, all sequined with jewels and gold. She also had a shawl, which once must have been beautiful as well. But now, threw use and wear it was starting to fringe along the edge; even though she tried her hardest to keep it intact. Next was her skirt, and once again it must have been a wonderful thing to behold, it overlapped in the middle and once must have had a design on it for she could sometimes, in the light make out a faint pattern. When night fell, she would light a candle, and dance, and pretend that she was a princess.
Imagination she sometimes thought was the only thing that kept her alive some days. For with out it she would be forced to succumb to the realities of life, and if she did that, if she ever looked at the big picture and saw just how desperate she'd become, she would surly go insane, and die. So that is the reason that though out all the hardship that she faced, that she would face in her life time, how ever sort or long it may be, she would always have her imagination.
So because she was too proud to become a concubine or a whore she was forced to steal. It wasn't all that bad though. She found a nice abandoned place that had a beautiful, view of the palace, and it looks like whoever lived there before her had taken good care of the place. Whoever lived there before her also looked like they had left in kind-of a hurry, considering they left everything behind.
'Oh well' thought the girl when she had time to sit and ponder about such things. 'Maybe they died' she would think on her worst days, 'died a horrible, awful, gruesome death' and on her better days she would think that maybe this was were the sultan had lived before he became, well sultan. After all they do say he had once a long time ago lived on the streets, like her. And then on some days she wouldn't really care why the person had left because she was too worried about finding a way to feed herself.
But she was thankful, thankful that who ever had lived here before her did leave their possessions because to tell the truth she wasn't that good of a thief, the thought of being caught stealing candles or anything of such value sent shivers down her spine. Thoughts like 'what if I was caught; I'd be put in the palace dungeon for life, and starve.' One of her worst nightmares was sitting in a dark little hole, whittling away to nothing while the rats ate at her flesh. She shivered, the day she landed on the street she swore that she would never ever starve. That was why she was thankful for who ever had lived there before her, because they had left her candles, candles to create light, and for that she owed this person her fear, fear of darkness that sometimes consumed her, until she lit one of those candles and it remained her that no matter how dark her world get, there would always be light.
***
To be continued.......