A/N: Disclaimer- I don't own them, I just like playing with them.

Despite the time he had spent growing accustomed to the luxury of palace life, the one habit Aladdin had never managed to break was the urge to hoard food. Perhaps, hoard wasn't the right word — stashing and pilfering suited his habits better. He took to keeping jars of cashews tucked away in the drawers of his bedside table and desk in the study. Never once did he pass through the kitchen without palming a piece of fruit, as if he wasn't entitled to it freely. The laundress began to complain about the apples and bread slices and candied ginger that would float out of pockets after being plunged into the wash.

It had been over a year since they had been married, and even longer since Aladdin had come to live at the palace, yet, in the dark reaches of his mind, there was a voice who told him to ration his meals, save some back for a little later. It was the same voice that wouldn't ever let him get truly comfortable in his surroundings. The anxious one that forced his eyes to seek out the exit in every room, that urged him to nick golden bangles off wrists during handshakes, to avoid making eye contact with the palace guards. His heart belonged to Jasmine, but his mind had been cultivated on the streets, where nothing good could last and danger lurked around the corner. The voice would creep in to remind him that this was not his world — he didn't belong here and he never would. Once they figured that out, he would be out on the street again, with only his wits and skills to fall back on. Wits he needed to keep sharp and skills he needed to keep honed.

Doubt was paralyzing him. He was withdrawing more and more. Dismissing himself from meetings and avoiding public outings, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the halls and gardens, only to find his way back to their bedroom to sit quietly and succumb to the poison of the voices. It was this same pervasive self-doubt that had roused him from bed, sleepless and moody.

Staring down at the main entry into the palace, dimmed a silver blue in the cold light of the moon, he remembered how she had chased him down, had refused to give him up. He should have slipped out in the shadows, taken one of the side exits used by the servants. Without him to bring down her reign, she could have been the most beloved ruler in the history of Agrabah. If only he could have disappeared like he was supposed to...

At the gentle scratch of nails across his exposed back, his eyes drew closed, eyes rolling back at the pleasant shiver it sent down the length of his spine. Even through the fabric of his harem pants, he felt her radiant heat against his side before he found the will to open his eyes.

"I hate seeing you like this."

Trying to coax him from where he leaned heavily over the balcony railing, she brought her hand to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over the days worth of stubble he'd neglected to tend to in his most recent bout of melancholy.

"You've been so pensive lately." She frowned. "I wish you would talk to me."

Worry was etched into her face, her eyes searching his, and he knew his pain weighed on her as heavily as it did him, probably more. Finally turning towards her, he stood, slipping his arms from the railing to wrap around her waist. Resting her head upon his shoulder, he set his cheek atop the crown of her head.

"You have enough to worry about these days."

Canting slightly to press a soft kiss just above her brow, she released a mournful sound. Then he felt warm droplets dripping upon his chest.

"Jas?"

Jumping back a step, Aladdin craned her head up to meet his eyes. Streaks glistened down her cheeks in the moonlight.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

Panic seized his chest. Damn it. Hands immediately at the sides of her face, he swiped away the tears.

"It's not… you don't... " Slumping his shoulders, his head dropped to stare at the floor, too ashamed to look her in the eyes now. "I wish I had the words to explain."

"Are you…" She began, and he could hear the tightness in her throat constricting her words. "...unhappy here? Or, with me?"

"Habibti, no!" He gasped, crushing her in a tight embrace, whispering into her hair. "Allah, no. Never."

"Then why won't you talk to me about what is bothering you?"

It felt like his insides were caving in. Unwavering, bold, stubborn to a fault — Jasmine was the strongest person he had ever known. In the face of losing her kingdom, her father, Dalia, even him, she had never been more vulnerable, and yet she had refused to cower to Jafar. Now, his Sultana with the fiery heart of a warrior goddess stood before him, reduced to tears, all because of him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated over and over, rocking gently, tucking her under his chin as she nuzzled the nape of his neck. "It's not you, Jasmine. You're the best thing in my life."

"Then, please, tell me what is wrong."

Taking a deep breath to force up the courage to admit it, he replied, "I'm terrified."

Her head shot up, brows furrowed. "Of what?"

"Of the day you all realize that you let a street thief steal the throne."

"Aladdin," she said, aghast. "How could you even think that?"

"Because it's not getting easier." He groaned, loosening his grip on her. "I can barely understand the correspondence we receive. I'm terrible at sorting out the financial records. I can't remember the names of half the court and the foreign dignitaries, and the protocols for every single interaction and event seem stupid and frustrating." Slowly he pushed away from her to hang back over the railing. "... and on top of that, now I know I'm a terrible husband."

"That is patently untrue, and you know it!" Her voice was still thick from crying, but she had affected her commanding tone, like she was negotiating with a petulant emissary who was refusing her terms. "The silliest thing about you pretending to have been a prince was that I chose you because you were unlike every other prince I had met. You never wanted the crown — you only ever wanted it for me, I knew that. I still do."

Her fingers carded through his dark waves, and the delightful shivers returned. Leaning into her touch, he sighed again, opening his mouth to refute her, but the words died in his throat at the press of her free hand to his lips. Against his chin, Aladdin could feel the warm band of metal that she wore on her ring finger. Flexing his hand into a fist, he felt its match on his own left hand. Its placement there had signified a vow, a promise he was unsure that he could fulfill.

"I love you, Aladdin. And, as far as I'm concerned, you're the best prince I could have ever found for Agrabah." Her eyes narrowed in that way that he had come to associate with her fierceness, her determination to be heard. "You're generous, noble, loyal, and you know your people better than any other ruler because you know their suffering. What more could a Sultana ask for in a husband?" Then, her mouth ticked up in a smirk, a twinkle glistening in her eyes. "Or, don't you trust me?"

A half-hearted smile parted his lips despite himself, and he brought their foreheads together. Palms pressed to her shoulders, he held her like she would disappear if he ever let go.

"I don't deserve you." The whisper ghosted across her lips.

She snorted. "Yes you do, idiot. And, you never needed a genie to prove it."

Closing the infinitesimal space between their lips, Aladdin drank in the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her. Every moment he could, he formed a more complete composite of her in his mind — everything that was uniquely Jasmine. Allah forbid anything should happen, he wanted the whole sensory experience of her stored in the vault of his mind.

"We've got a big day tomorrow." Pulling away, she tugged at his hands. "Put all of this misery out of your head for tonight, and come to bed."

Casting one last furtive glance out over the darkened city below, he thought about the first night they stood together on this balcony. The confidence he had felt in that moment when he rose up on the carpet after leaping off the ledge, trying to suppress a laugh at her dumbstruck expression. He would give anything to have that feeling back.

"Alright," he drew the word out long in one last over dramatic sigh before spinning abruptly, scooping her up in his arms. Eliciting an excited gasp as her feet left the ground, he whispered into the shell of her ear,"Your wish is my command, Your Majesty."

Needless to say, Aladdin found one more distraction for his weary mind before sleep finally claimed him that night.

A/N: "Habibti" is an Arabic endearment that means beloved. For native speakers, if I used it incorrectly, please let me know. I don't wish to be insensitive.

After all the effort they put into making Jasmine a strong female character with agency, I worried this scene would made her look pathetic and needy. But, I feel that the stronger the woman, the more important it is to have trust in someone with whom you can let down your guard and be vulnerable. Aladdin's anxiety and impostor syndrome has always resonated with me, so I know that even when you achieve a victory, it's a natural reaction to expect the floor to drop out any moment. But, with Jasmine, I didn't want her belief in herself to be attached to Aladdin's love. She can stand on her own, that much is evident from Speechless. I do believe that she would worry that her effectiveness as a strong leader would be weakened by losing Aladdin though. As the first female leader, many people will be expecting her to fail, so she can't show uncertainty. But, she can openly express her concerns and questioning of herself to him without the fear that it makes her seem weak, which becomes a place of safety and comfort she might not otherwise have. This is where her frustration comes in when he doesn't seem to be able to confide in her in the same way. Hopefully that came across.