Dedication: To everyone. I'm in a generous mood today! Enjoy!

Of Prophecies and Progeny

Letha sat curled around herself against the wall of the atrium, her head buried in her lap. It had been four days since she returned to the Citadel, and the pain of having her powers ripped from her was just beginning to decrease. She felt ill, as she often had been feeling in the mornings. She had taken to wandering the halls of the Citadel late at night, tears in her eyes.

Everyone was steering clear of her, including Iago, whom she was beginning to think of as her familiar. She had been right in assuming Mozenrath wouldn't let the bird remain in Agrabah. Letha didn't mind, it was more company for her. But lately, no one had wanted to risk getting on her bad side, and she was mostly left to herself.

"No more." She mumbled to herself, pulling herself to her feet. No more feeling sorry for myself. There's a way to get my powers back, I know it. And it's time I started looking, instead of moping.

She straitened her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair. She grimaced as her fingers encountered the tangle her thigh length golden hair had become. She could only imagine what her face looked like.

No wonder Mozenrath's been avoiding me. I'd avoid me too. She slipped into her bedchamber, or what had originally been her bedchamber. She changed her gown, and washed her face. There was a cracked mirror, and she blanched when she caught sight of her reflection. Deep black hollows lay beneath her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow and gaunt. She took a brush to her hair, but realized it was useless. She had ignored herself for...how long since they'd left Agrabah? Five, six days? Biting her lower lip, she took a knife to her hair, and chopped it off to just below her chin. It was far more manageable then.

Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she made her way to the library. To her surprise, Mozenrath was there. She paused in the doorway, watching him bent over a book. Despite her pain a smile crossed her lips. Then she noticed his hand. It was bandaged, and resting limply on the table next to him.

"What happened?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Letha?" Mozenrath snapped. "What have I told you about sneaking up on me?"

"Not to do it. Sorry." Letha said. Well, he was back to normal. "I asked you a question."

"Oh, this?" He waved his left hand at his right. "Yes, I've been meaning to speak to you. I decided to wait until you'd come out of your stupor. It seems that since you've lost your powers, the effects of them have been...shall we say dissipating?"

"What are you talking about?" Letha asked, confused.

"My hand." Mozenrath snapped. "It's going back to the way it was before you healed me."

"What?"

"What don't you understand?" He rose, advancing on her. "You may as well have not healed me, for all the good its doing. And I need my gauntlet."

"It's that bad?" Letha asked, glancing down at the bandage. Then she noticed the bloodstains.

"You have no idea. I wouldn't look to closely, it isn't a pretty sight."

"I can imagine." She breathed, her eyes riveted to the slowly spreading red stain. "It must hurt..."

"Haven't we been over what happens to me without my gauntlet? But you had to go and screw up." Mozenrath hissed at her. "Any way you look at it, it's your fault. I should kill you now, your no use to me."

Letha kept her face impassive. She'd heard that threat many a time before. It seemed a day couldn't go by without a death threat. But she knew he wasn't serious. If the sorcerer had wanted her dead, she'd be dead.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Letha asked.

"That's what I'm looking for. Of course, I've spent years looking for a solution to the pain caused by the gauntlet. I don't see how I could spontaneously stumble over something I just happened to miss before. Now go entertain yourself elsewhere. I have work to do." He waved his hand at her, sitting back down. Letha sighed, and went out into the corridor.

***

Why do these things always happen to me? Mozenrath wondered. He slammed the book shut, it was no help to him anyway. And Letha's visit upset him more than he wanted to admit. he had been worried about her, and that ate him up inside. But...back to the problem at hand.

He sighed, letting the air out through clenched teeth. The pain in his hand was nearly unbearable, the flesh was slowly melting away. Before, under the gauntlet it had been slow and lingering. Now it was rapid, a fiery pain that would not let him rest. For years he had strove to be free of the pain, and to no avail. The Khalidarha was supposed to have solved the problem, not make it worse.

Damn that woman. He thought for the hundredth time. Half the time he wanted to be rid of her, and the other half he couldn't stand to be away from her. By all rights, he should have killed her by now. She was powerless, and had cost him his gauntlet and his hand. But he couldn't bring himself to do it...

Mozenrath stood, and a wave of nausea hit him. Red hot pain flared through his head and hand, and he fell to his knees, struggling to keep a hold of himself. It had never been this bad before, and Mozenrath heard himself screaming in agony before he slipped out of consciousness.

***

"He needs his gauntlet." Letha said, sitting back. She had come running at Mozenrath's screams, and had found him passed out on the floor of the library. She had carried him to their bedchamber, and laid him down, all without him waking. It was obvious from the movements of his lips that he was in pain.

"Well, there isn't much we can do about that." Iago said, sitting on Letha's shoulder.

"Master sick?" Xerxes asked, nudging at the comatose Mozenrath.

"Yes." Letha said, laying her hand on the sorcerer's forehead. "But not for long."

"What are you gonna do?" Iago asked, suspiciously.

"We're going to Agrabah to get his gauntlet back." Letha said, standing.

"Are you insane?" Iago asked. "We just left. They aren't exactly going to hand it to us. AL knows something's up."

"We're not going to ask for it." Letha said simply. "We're going to steal it."

"Um...look, I hate to be a spoil sport, but that glove does some pretty funky things to you. I don't think you can make it all the way back here with it."

"Iago, that was only because of my powers. I don't have them anymore, so the gauntlet will have no effect on me." Letha looked at Xerxes. "You stay here and take care of Mozenrath."

"Xerxes take care." The ell said, curling up next to his masters head. Letha brushed a sweat soaked ebony curl off of Mozenrath's forehead before turning and leaving the room.

"This is not going to work." Iago said. "I mean, are you sure you're up to this?"

"I'm fine." Letha said, urging the horse faster. "And this will work. You'll just lead me strait to the gauntlet, we grab it and get out."

"Okay, I didn't want to bring this up in front of slug boy but...let's just skip out and go someplace nice, eh? With your looks and my talent, we could go someplace. Just forget all about the Land of the Black Sand, and evil wizards, and..."

"He's not evil." Letha said, cutting Iago off. "And I am not going to abandon him."

"Why not?" Iago asked. "Look, he's a lost cause. From what I hear, no matter what happens he's not going to be around long."

"You don't understand." Letha said, the words rushing out of her mouth. "You don't know a thing about him. He has a sense of honor, and justice. Maybe it's not the same as yours, but it's there. He could have killed you, but he didn't."

"Yeah, I'm still a little shaky on that." Iago said. "Why exactly aren't I dead?"

"An eye for an eye." Letha said, shrugging. "You saved him, so he spared you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Iago said, shaking his head. "I never helped wizard boy. In fact, I helped thwart him on many occasions."

"You don't know, do you?" Letha turned her head to look in wonder at the parrot. "You haven't figured it out, have you?"

"Figured what out?" Iago demanded. "Honestly, I think that gem took your brain, not just your power."

"Mozenrath is Jafar's son." Letha explained, and watched the stunned expression filter across Iago's face.

"You're kidding me."

"No. He told me the whole story. It was only after I asked you about Jafar that I pieced everything together."

"Now I know what you meant about me not wanting to know him." Iago sighed. "Well, like father like son, I suppose. At least the line ends here."

"What do you mean?" Letha asked sharply. She had been reexamining her illness on the ride. The loss of her powers had addled her mind, that was certain. She had been in a state of shock, but now she was able to think clearly. A horrid and wonderful thought had occurred to her, but she had pushed it out of her mind until now.

"Oh well, you know. Jafar came from an evil sorcerer, he made another evil sorcerer. You can see where I'm going with this."

"Yeah..." Letha mumbled, biting her lower lip. She could only hope she was wrong, but a nagging tug in the back of her mind told her she wasn't.

***

"We've got to be careful." Letha reminded Iago yet again. They were slipping through a secret passage in the palace of Agrabah.

"No, really? I was thinking we ask the guards to give us a hand." The parrot said sarcastically.

"Quiet." Letha hissed. They were nearing the chamber where the gauntlet was held. It was deep in the bowels of the palace, and Letha shivered. She cracked the door open, and peered out. She saw no guard, but motioned Iago to stay put anyway. Who knew when one would come along.

"Yeah, yeah." Iago muttered. "Look out. I know the drill."

Letha shook her head, and slipped into the empty corridor. There was no secret entrance to the room where the gauntlet was held, so she had to make her way through the corridors alone. It wasn't that far, but it wasn't pleasant this deep. Bare dirt was beneath her feet, and it was cracked and heaved, as though something had been trying to struggle out. She supposed it must have been an earthquake of some sort.

"Here I am." She said, pausing outside the door of the room Iago had said held the gauntlet. She pushed the door open, and her eyes immediately fell on the silver box in the center of the room. She knelt before it, her breath catching. She hated herself for doing it, but she had to. Mozenrath would die separated this long from his gauntlet, and it was her fault. She lifted the box, and was amazed at how light it felt. She was sure it had been heavier before...

A noise in the corridor startled her. She ducked behind another box, her heart pounding in her chest. If she was caught, there was no way she could get herself ut of it. She had obviously broke in, and she didn't have her powers. She drew her knees up close to herself, and was relieved when the noise moved on.

Letha slipped back out, looking this way and that for guards. She took a deep breath, and broke into a run for the passage. Halfway, her foot caught on something and she went sprawling on her face, the box spilling out of her hands.

"What the...?" She turned, looking to make sure no one would come running. When she was certain the hallway was empty, she turned her attention to what had caught her toe. She had assumed a risen bit of land, but was surprised to find something black and shiny sticking out of the earth. It looked like a spout of some sort. Curious, she pushed aside some of the loose dirt around it.

"What in the name of Kamzrael?" She wondered aloud, grasping the gleaming black spout and wiggling it. It was relatively large, whatever it was. She struggled with it some more, not quite sure why she did. Suddenly, it broke free, and Letha went tumbling over backwards.

"A lamp?" She asked herself, looking at the glossy black lamp that sat on the dirt. What was a lamp doing buried in the basement of the palace? Could it be a genies lamp, like the one Aladdin carried? Letha licked her lips, and tucked the lamp into her bag. She retrieved the silver box and placed it with the lamp. Raking her short golden hair out of her face, she returned to the secret passage, and Iago.

***

Letha wasn't able to investigate the lamp until later the next night, while camping on the edge of the Land of the Black Sands. Iago had fallen asleep after a dinner of dried meat and water, and Letha lay on her blankets, staring up at the sky. She loved the place where the Land of the Black Sand met the normal desert, where the glittering now-silver sand blended with the gold. The two colors swirled together, in a sort of pattern-less dance.

I hope I'm in time. She thought to herself, staring at the distant stars. They were cold, and offered her no comfort. I hope he hears it, knows we're coming. Letha knew that Mozenrath could hear the voices of the gauntlet in his mind, the closer they got the louder it would be. For lack of anything better to do, Letha pulled out the silver box.

She had crafted it herself, to try and shut out the sounds of the gauntlet in her mind. When she had still had her powers, the gauntlet had sung to her, promising so much. It was no wonder young Mozenrath had fallen prey to the thing. The black lamp fell out, clattering to the sands. Letha picked it up, and was surprised to feel it warm beneath her touch.

"I wonder...?" She sighed, and shrugged, and rubbed the lamp. What was the worst that could happen?

The lamp began to glow, a deep reddish black. It was the color of blood, and it heated in Letha's hands. She gasped, dropping it as red smoke poured out of the spout, swirling in a whirlwind. The red smoke shaped itself into the form of a demon, red as fire and clawed. Letha stared up in wonder at the beast above her.

"Well." It said, shaking its head and grinning a sickly smile down at her. "I must thank you. I've been stuck in that damn lamp for longer than I care to recall."

"Are you a genie?" Letha asked, keeping a firm grip on her fear. Powers or not, she was still the Khalidarha.

"Technically, yes." The creature said. "Oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I'm the genie of the lamp."

"And you're bound to me?"

"For the space of three wishes, after then I return to the lam to await another master."

"Ah..." Letha nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the genie. She should bring it to Mozenrath, as soon as possible. This would solve everything!

"Well?" The genie asked, reducing his size and giving the appearance of sitting.

"Well what? I have to make my wishes now?"

"It would make this go so much easier. I doubt I could convince you to free me, could I?" It looked at her hopefully.

"No." Letha said. What would Mozenrath wish for? Perhaps... "You have to stay in the lamp until another rubs it?"

"Yes."

"Good." She'd use up her three wishes , and then deliver the lamp to Mozenrath. Then he could use it! "I'm ready to make my wishes."

"Splendid! What will it be? A handsome prince? Wealth beyond imagination?" The genie asked.

"No. I have both of those. Or at least as close as I need. My first wish is for my powers to be returned to me." Letha said, not having to think at all. She suddenly felt Iago stirring at the small of her back, where he had curled.

"Done." The genie said, and Letha felt the same white-hot pain shooting through her body. Every inch of her felt alive, and charged. The hair on the back of her neck and arms stood out, and she gasped. Her eyes ached, and her brain tingled with the force of the power rushing back to her. And then it was gone, and she felt whole again. The voices of the gauntlet rushed into her mind, and she flung the box from her, covering her ears.

"Ah, so I did hear something." The genie said. His tone made Letha think of Mozenrath. "I feared that lamp ad made me lose my mind."

"Make it stop!" Letha screamed.

"Is that a wish?"

"No!" Letha bit her lip, and spoke a spell that encased the silver box in one of iron, and then of lead. The voices lessened to a dull chattering.

"Now that's an interesting toy for a young girl to have." The genie said, looking thoughtfully at the box.

"It isn't mine. And I'm not all I appear." She said, sitting back up. She was bathed in sweat, and the cold night air made her skin prickle.

"Hmm. Second wish? I really would like to have this over with quickly."

"I wish that..." She faltered. What did she need to wish for? She wouldn't make one on behalf of Mozenrath. But she had all she needed. She was a creature of wild magic, unbridled power. Time, space meant nothing to her...

"I wish that when this body dies, my spirit travels on to the afterlife." Letha said, slowly. She would be free of the curse that horrid wizard had put on her. No longer a creature of pain and anger, but a mortal woman bound by no one but herself.

"A strange request, but done." The genie snapped his fingers, and Letha felt as though a weight had been lifted from her. And the third...? He mind leapt back to what Iago had said, about Mozenrath's line.

"Can you answer questions?" Letha asked. "Genies are supposed to be powerful."

"It depends on the question." The genie shrugged.

"Am I pregnant?" Letha asked, half fearing the answer.

"Yes." He didn't even hesitate. Letha's third wish was clear in her mind.

"Then I wish that the child I carry is female."

"Why?" The genie asked, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Because the father is a sorcerer, and I know of the prophecy. The first child of a sorcerer will be born a sorcerer, and will rise against the father." Letha dropped a hand protectively to her stomach. She had no doubt Mozenrath would kill the child were it a threat to him.

"You don't know what you're asking." The genie said, horrified. "To do what you ask, it would change so much..."

"Don't argue, jinn. I know the rules of the lamp. I wish that my child is a girl. That is my third wish, now grant it!"

"As you wish..."

***

Iago didn't believe what he was seeing. It had to be a nightmare, a delusion, anything but truth!

Jafar is not hovering above us, Jafar is not hovering above us. Iago repeated over and over to himself. He cowered behind Letha, not wanting to be seen. Where had she gotten the lamp? She was supposed to get the gauntlet and get out, not go holiday shopping!

Not soon enough for Iago, the red glow diminished, and Jafar returned to the lamp. Iago let out the breath eh was holding and began screaming.

"What did you? Why did you? How could you!!!!"

"Iago, calm..."

"Don't say my name!" The bird snapped. "He can hear us in there!" He pointed to the lamp.

"The genie?" Letha asked, confused.

"Not just any genie! Don't you know anything? That genie's Jafar!"

"What?" Obviously Letha hadn't heard what had happened to the vizier, so Iago summed it up quite quickly.

"And now you let him out, and you're bringing him to you-know-who, and please tell me I hear wrong, but you're pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Just great!" Iago said, pacing on the sand. "This is just great. This sort of stuff only happens to me, you know. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't think it's a good idea to breed demented wizards!"

"He's not demented, Iago. Don't you shush me. We've been over this before. And besides, the child is a girl."

"A girl?" Iago didn't believe her, but then he remembered. Her wishes. The third had been for the baby to be a girl.

"See? Everything will be fine. I can't sleep." Letha said, rising. "And I want to be home as soon as possible. Let's go."

"Everything will be fine. Yeah, right." Iago said, fluttering up to the saddle and eyeing Jafar's lamp. "Prophecies have a way of completing themselves.

***

Mozenrath hadn't stirred since Letha left. He had been trapped in a fitful, shallow sleep. The gauntlet taunted him, laughed as his life-force drained away.

Fool! The voices accused. You thought you could escape, but never. We have marked you, you belong to us. We helped you shed your first blood. We are bound.

No! Mozenrath answered them, struggling to cling to himself. I will not be your slave. I am no ones slave, I enslave others!

Not without us. You can do nothing without us. The gauntlet reminded.

I can do plenty. I will survive, without you. I lived without a right hand before, I will do it again.

Oh yes, you can do plenty. You can die. You will die. We keep you alive, but no longer. The price a fool pays for turning his back...

Mozenrath gasped in his sleep, writhing fitfully. He remembered when the voices had been soft, as gentle and tender as a lover. Now they grated, mocking and harsh. They refused to allow him one moments rest, and he was aware of his slow death.

He was dying, there was no doubt in his mind. His body ached and groaned, the fire that consumed his hand flowing through his whole body. He tried desperately to wake, to call for Letha. He needed to tell her, before he died. But Letha didn't come.

Foolish boy. Mozenrath heard another voice. It was Destane. See what you've come to? I warned you, not to be distracted. See what good comes of love? A painful end. You couldn't even control the gauntlet. I should have left you to die in the desert where I found you.

Leave me be, you old bag! Mozenrath told the voice of Destane. So, the dead did come to take you to the after world. Who would bother him next? If he was to die, he wanted it to at least be in peace.

Not just a foolish boy. An oily voice spoke, and it was one only vaguely familiar to Mozenrath. A weak foolish boy. It was a voice he had only heard in his memories, those brought back by the gauntlet.

Father?

You are no son of mine. You are weak. You couldn't even kill me yourself. You hid, waiting for someone to do it for you. I cleanse my hands of you, as I tried to do when you were born. I should have slit your throat, just like I did to your mother.

Bastard! Mozenrath screamed, but Jafar was gone, and the silence that surrounded Mozenrath was deafening. Was this it? Even the gauntlet was quiet.

I must be near the end. Letha. I'm sorry for everything. But it was your fault for falling in love with me. You shouldn't have made that bargain, you should have killed me as soon as I summoned you. Where are you now, so you can kill me? I'd still rather die by your hand than any other...

***

"This is all we can do." Letha slipped the gauntlet on Mozenrath's skeletal hand, tears stinging her eyes. He was barely breathing, and his skin was grey and sweat slicked.

"Master not wake." Xerxes said, his voice hysterical. "Master not wake at all!"

"Oh, please..." Letha said, clutching Mozenrath's hand. She closed her eyes, not able to watch.

"Am...I...dead?" Mozenrath's voice was harsh and weak, but very much alive. Letha breathed a sigh of relief, and blinked to keep back tears.

"No." Letha said, a small hysterical chuckle escaping her kips. "Almost, but no."

"My gauntlet!" Mozenrath excalimed, sittign up. "Where did you...?"

"We stole it from Agrabah." Letha explained. "It was the only way. And I brought you something else."

"Your'e so good to me." It didnt have the bite Letha knew was supposed to go behind it, but she understood.

"You need to rest." In truth, Mozenrath looked better than he had. "Then there's much I need to tell you." She released his hand and rose, turning to go. Xerxes and Iago had already left, understanding Mozenrath would need true rest.

"Letha!" Mozenrath called, and Letha turned, a smile on her lips. Now, finally he would give her a word of appreciation!

"Yes?"

"Allow me no more than eight hours sleep. I have much work to do."

"Yes, Mozenrath."

***

The black-clad sorcerer pretended to listen intently as Letha described her journey. Apparently, the gauntlet hadn't been as well guarded as it should have been. The voices were back, and soothing now. They denied any knowledge of calling him a fool.

Apparently, I was suffering from delusion. He decided, tapping his fingers on the table top. He was still worried he'd been talking in his sleep. He didn't want Letha knowing anything. As far as she was concerned, he thought of her as nothing more than a tool. Even though she didn't have her powers. He realized she had stopped speaking, and was waiting for him to say something.

"Really?" He said politely, and realized it wasn't the proper response when she gave home a flat look.

"Were you listening to a single thing I said?" She growled.

"Honestly? No." Mozenrath shrugged. "Why, was it important?"

"No. Not at all. Unless you think it's important that I have my powers back, I brought you a genie, oh, and I'm pregnant." Letha leaped up, turning away quickly. Mozenrath started as if hit. She couldn't be serious? A genie...a baby? He leap up as well, grasping her wrist.

"What did you say? No wait, start at the beginning. The important beginning." He stared down at her, not letting her get out of his grip.

"I found a lamp, I rubbed it, I wished for my powers back and I brought it home to you when my three wishes were up." Letha hissed. "Of course, if you were paying attention, you'd know that."

"A genie? Aladdin's genie?" But Aladdin's genie was free...

"No." Letha stared at her feet, and Mozenrath felt a strange feeling spread over his body.

"I see. And your...condition?"

"Taken care of. The child is no threat." Letha assured him.

"Why not?"

"It is a girl. I used a wish. You're in no danger."

"I see. Give me the lamp." He held out his hands, a dangerous light glittering in his black eyes.

"Here." Letha dropped the black lamp in Mozenrath's hand.

"Good. Now leave us." He turned, and placed the lamp on the desk, staring at it. It couldn't be Jafar's lamp. That had been disposed of, hadn't it? But what other genie lamps were lying around the palace of Agrabah? Mozenrath got a hold of his emotions, and rubbed the lamp.

"It must be..." Mozenrath gasped, as the red smoke poured into a demonic shape.

"Ah...you must be my new master. How wonderful." The genie said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't say that, if I were you." Mozenrath said, circling the genie. "I'm not exactly a kind master."

"At this point I don't care. What are your wishes, Master?"

"Oh, that's not why I rubbed the lamp. Though that is a pleasant bonus." Mozenrath sighed.

"I see. I can grant you power beyond imagination." The genie offered, obviously picking up on Mozenrath's line of occupation.

"No, thank you. I won't have power handed to me on a silver platter. Power not worked for is useless." Mozenrath said, dismissing the genies offer. True power had to be earned, else what respect would one have for it?

"Well, then riches! Whatever your heart desires. Unless it involves killing someone, of course. We can't do that."

"I'm aware of the stipulations." Mozenrath said. "I have a few questions for you. Oh, nothing to hard I assure you."

"What is it with everyone wanting answers. Fine, I am yours to command."

"You were human before you were a genie, yes?" Mozenrath stared at the genie out of the corner of his eye, and saw the look that passed over his features.

"How did you...I refuse to answer."

"Oh, but you already did!" Mozenrath exclaimed, clapping his hands together. This was better than he could have hoped. "I order you to assume your human form!"

"As you command." Jafar mumbled, and the familiar form of his father stood before Mozenrath. "Is this better?"

"Much." Mozenrath breathed. "Of all the nights I dreamed..."

"Are you quite all right? You look a bit mad, if I don't say so myself."

"You are in no position to speak like that to me. Do you know who I am?"

"Let me guess...some sort of wizard, right? Ah, so the gauntlet is yours. Last I heard old Destane had that little toy. You're not his, are you?"

"No. Not in the way you mean. I was his apprentice, until I overthrew him and stole his throne and his power." Mozenrath shrugged. "No. I think you'll find my parentage far more interesting."

"Oh? Do tell." Jafar grinned evilly, and Mozenrath met it with one of his own. He felt light and disconnected.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't remember your own son?" Mozenrath said, with mock pain in his voice. "Oh father, I am hurt!"

"Son...I have no son." Jafar protested.

"Try again. The gauntlet has a handy little trick of heightening every memory, even those from before birth. I've seen you in my dreams often. I was always sorry I could never overthrow you myself. But, since I turned on Destane I wasn't a total failure."

"What do you want with me?"

"Why father, what do you think?" Mozenrath asked, reaching the crystal of ix that rested on the table behind him. "Your power!"