Copyright: Nope, three years after “The Truth About Iago,” it still doesn’t belong to me. But, as I’ve said before, considering the amount of Aladdin merchandise I’ve purchased, Disney should at least grant me a small chunk, hehe.
Author’s Note: So, I’ve finally decided to give it another try. After abandoning the Aladdin fanfiction realm for a short while, I was granted with a wonderful surprise upon my return… people had actually taken up writing about Iago while I was away. And, now, knowing me, do you possibly think I could stay away? Of course not… so here it is… my newest (hopefully novel-length) Aladdin fanfiction glorifying Iago. Be ready for a few changes in my writing style and a few ideas you may or may not have heard before. This could prove to be quite controversial. And, now, without further ado, I present…
The Third Year
Chapter 1: Mercy
The wind blew furiously, echoing into corners where stone walls met and down empty corridors, where for centuries, no one had walked. On this night, the cold seemed to slip in unnoticed where the stones had not been properly laid. Iago pulled further into himself, still tired from the rude awakening he’d been given a few minutes earlier. When they’d come for him, he had finally fallen asleep although he had been sure no sleep would come that night. Outside he could see the lightening, feel the power of it reverberating up the halls and coming for him. When he’d pulled the blanket over his head, willing the feeling away, he could still hear the thunder crashing and he’d wondered when morning was coming. Then, he remembered it wasn’t, and he’d resigned himself to another night waiting for the dawn to break.
He supposed it was shortly after that when the guards had yanked him roughly onto the floor. The guards were a rare treat; since being denied free roam of the castle, he’d seen little of anyone. Of course, they’d known that those in the palace were worth a hefty ransom, and until this point, he had been mostly ignored. Sometimes, in fact, he forgot to fear for his life. Sometimes, he forgot he was living at all. He’d made himself comfortable with the fact that life was probably much the same for the other captives from the palace. Other times, he wished to see a face he knew, Aladdin or Jasmine, or even Abu. But, he never did. When the servants did come, they left food without speaking of news from the war or of anything else for that matter. At first, he’d taken to asking after the others, but it hadn’t taken Iago long to figure out that it was pointless. He’d thought that was the worst… not knowing.
Iago could hear the rain drumming a steady beat on the slate rooftops when Jasmine was ushered in. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, although Iago guessed she hadn’t been sleeping much more than he had. He thought he saw her nod at him quickly as she passed, but he couldn’t be sure. Behind her came the Sultan. He didn’t appear to have slept at all since the fall of his kingdom. The guards had dealt with him more carefully. Heavy chains clinked as he shuffled along, connecting the manacles on his wrists and ankles. Iago figured that was more for show than precaution. Everyone knew that Aladdin was far more dangerous than the Sultan and half his troop of untrained townspeople and unreliable sellswords together. But, nothing was known to break a people more than the sight of their ruler in chains. Iago remembered that before all of this, Aladdin was to be ruler soon.
The rain continued. He wondered where Aladdin was and supposed that wherever he was, Abu was probably with him.
When Mozenrath entered, Iago knew something was wrong. Mozenrath had never been one to sit out on a fight, and he had disappeared when the war had begun. Stories were told of him riding into battle in front of his army of those lands he had conquered, flanked on both sides by his shuffling army of the undead. The idea of imagining this picture had not amused Iago at all… and the day he had seen it, not only had it left him unamused, it has left him half crazed with fear. But, tonight, with the wind creeping into this old castle, the day seemed a lifetime ago. Once, Aladdin has said they could conquer these lands from the rear, while Mozenrath advanced on the opposite side. But, that was even longer ago. The army did come, and it was they who were conquered.
Mozenrath appeared ragged, yet no less regal than ever before. His tunic was torn and stained with red when he broke his stride and turned to his guards. “Where is he?” he demanded. And, Iago knew exactly who Mozenrath was talking about, and if he was afraid on the eve of the invasion, he was terrified now.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, he knew. Sometimes he could remember what it was like before they were brought here. He especially liked to remember the days between adventures, when they’d only talked or gone to the marketplace. Things had been good then… he wished he’d admitted it more often. Of late, he’d begun to forget. He couldn’t remember the way the hovel had felt late at night, when he wasn’t wondering how or even if the others were living. He couldn’t remember why he’d ever wanted to play the hero. But, he did remember how it felt. No matter what had happened, Iago had always felt safe with Aladdin.
Now, the cold had entered, and Mozenrath glared hardly at the captives. How had it come to this? It was never supposed to be this way.
Aladdin stumbled forward, and Iago knew, it was not meant to end like this, with him in chains. “You know how many people I’ve killed, Aladdin?” Aladdin glared at him. “Go on, guess.”
“I don’t know.” He looked longingly at Jasmine for a moment, and Iago knew, that Aladdin knew what was coming as well. Iago wanted to tell him to break, to beg for mercy. Mercy, mercy. But, he knew Aladdin never would, and more than that, he doubted Mozenrath would give it. Mercy.
“I came here straight from battle and late in the night. I did not make the journey to play games, Aladdin. I ask you again… do you know how many people I’ve killed?”
“I said, I don’t know,” Aladdin’s voice was low.
“It’s more than you can count. I cut men down every day in battle; I watch their dead eyes roll back in their heads, their blood frothing like spittle. And, you know what I do, Aladdin? I laugh.” Mozenrath stopped for a moment, contemplating. “How many men have you killed Aladdin?”
Aladdin frowned, defiant. If Iago could have answered, he could have said one, one at least. But, he knew…
“None,” Aladdin whispered at first. “None,” his voice was rising, “I have killed no one!”
“Just as I thought, Aladdin. The deaths I have delivered are countless, women and children. You cannot kill your own enemy. I ask you, what problem do you think I would have with killing you?” Mozenrath smiled, his eyes dancing, as he waited, preparing to take the queen in this game of verbal chess.
Aladdin did not answer.
“Answer me, dammit! You are my prisoner. Or don’t you see the chains you are held in?”
Iago pleaded in his mind. C’mon… just answer him, Al. Please, it won’t be so hard. Mercy, mercy… after a while, the word will be more comfortable on your hero’s tongue. Jasmine was biting her lip, he saw. She would have pleaded, had she not so much faith in Aladdin.
“If you refuse to answer, perhaps you need not use your mouth at all.” Iago wondered just what Mozenrath meant… until he gave the command. “Guards!”
A spear lashed out, and for a moment, Iago thought that in fact, it was the end. The wheedled end was spinning toward the soft, moving flesh of Aladdin’s throat, but when it stopped, the butt of the spear had hit Aladdin in the mouth. The sound of teeth breaking clashed hard against the drum of rain and a light moan from Aladdin caused Iago to cover his eyes. Aladdin was supposed to be ruler soon… it was never meant to be like this.
“Have an answer now, street rat?” Mozenrath sneered the words, and Iago was sure that mercy was a lost prayer now. Still… mercy.
When Aladdin smiled, it was a red smile, and Iago knew what Mozenrath meant when he said, “blood frothing like spittle.” Aladdin spat out a tooth and whether what came with it was blood or just stained spittle, Iago couldn’t have said. “Well, I suppose, none at all.”
“Please, stop slobbering on my floor, boy. I just detest it when one is so unkempt with the blood I have spilled.” He laughed harshly.
“His answer is correct though, isn’t it Princess?” he looked pointedly at Jasmine. “I’d ask you to beg for mercy…” Mercy, please… “But, I suppose you wouldn’t take the chance anyway.”
“Mozenrath, I would never ask mercy of you,” Jasmine spat, and Iago could have sworn her words with coated with blood as well.
“You’re not as stupid as I thought. Good choice.” Mozenrath stopped for a moment to send a biting smile to Aladdin who was still choking on blood. “Guards, bring me Defiance. I’ll do for this one myself.”
For a moment, everything moved in slow motion. All the strength seemed to be gone from Jasmine’s legs, and she fell bodily to the ground. The guards surrounding her made no move to stop her from slamming into the stone floor.
Aladdin didn’t move, his eyes becoming hard as the stone of the ancient walls and as sharp as the greatsword, Defiance, which had been passed down to the Lords of the Black Sands far into the time before Muhammad had claimed there to be a god in the land. He will never beg for mercy. But, the pain contorted his face. “Are you afraid to fight me, Mozenrath?”
Mozenrath lifted the greatsword. “I have fought you, or have you forgotten? You lost; your kingdom has been yielded to me. And, not even you, Aladdin, are immune to the punishment for grand high treason.” His arms did not tremble under the weight of Defiance, a sword as heavy as a human body, dead weight. He is not human. “I suppose you know it well, Princess.”
Jasmine struggled for breath, tears streaking her face. “Death” she wept. “You are the one who has committed treason, Mozenrath, against the throne of Agrabah, fairly wrought a century ago. This land of yours was taken unjustly, with the blood of innocents. This land was born of treasons!”
“All lands are taken with blood, Princess,” he smiled, “in fact, I seem to think that yours was too.” Mozenrath stopped for a moment and looked toward Aladdin. “Your street rat is human; do not doubt it. And he will fall as a human when is head is lopped off his scrawny shoulders. He will die as a human.”
You are not human. You don’t know what mercy is. Why can’t you die? “You cannot kill him. He would never do it to you… not this way, not with you in chains,” Jasmine sobbed, still sitting on floor. Iago watched her eyes flash between shock and bitter hatred. It caused him to feel that he might retch. “He would never…”
“And, that is what separates us. What good is nobility when your kingdom is at stake? What will honor do you as you watch your family fall? What mercy will pride buy you? What would you put first?” Mozenrath didn’t wait for an answer. “Nobility, pride, and honor, are worth less than the dirt on a camp follower’s feet. They are worth less than this… Guards!”
A guard with a mailed gauntlet stepped forward and smashed Aladdin in the back of the head. Iago cringed as Aladdin fell to his knees. He watched him fight for consciousness. Why can’t you just give up? Just go to sleep. If he won’t give you mercy, at least give yourself this much, Al. It won’t be so bad; it will all be over for you. You’ll just sleep and dream, and soon you won’t remember anymore.
But, Jasmine was screaming Aladdin’s name behind him, and Iago knew he wouldn’t let it end that way. When Aladdin whispered her name, she quieted and just stared at him. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and Iago could have sworn he was crying. Not like this… never like this.
“Jasmine… it will not end like this,” he smiled, and Iago could barely stand to look at the mess the spear had made of his mouth, but Jasmine did not flinch.
But, it would end. “It will,” Mozenrath assured them both. He raised the greatsword Defiance high above his head, his arms unshaking, his face untried. “Beg for mercy, hero of Agrabah.” Aladdin was going to be ruler soon.
“I will not beg for something you would never allow me,” Aladdin spat, and Iago knew it was true and somehow admired Aladdin for admitting it. Iago’s legs threatened to stop holding him and inwardly he begged himself to find the strength to remain standing, to remember just some of the bravery Aladdin had shown him.
“I never expected you to,” and for just a moment, Iago thought maybe he could see just a flash of admiration and envy in the way Mozenrath stared at Aladdin’s suffering form. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” Iago wondered what the difference was between death in battle, and death here, like this. The chance to hear your enemies’ last words
“I pity you, Mozenrath,” Aladdin looked at him, all seriousness on his pained face, “and I would never beg something of someone I pity.” Their eyes met, and Iago saw something similar in them, the dark will to fight. How can Mozenrath deny him even that?
For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke. Why did they bring us here for this? If the idea was to break us… it worked. Iago listened to every sound; the shudder of Jasmine’s alternating sobbing and breathing, the howl of wind through stone, the scream of thunder, echoing into the night. And, when he sure the world had stopped because Allah himself had shuddered at what he saw here… Mozenrath spoke.
“You will die, Aladdin,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, as if deciding on something Iago didn’t know about, “even heroes die.”
Iago didn’t see the first swing of the greatsword. But, when it fell, a sickening chop echoed… more than in the great hall where they were standing, but in his head. A warm rain landed softly on Iago’s feathers and when he looked up to see where it was coming from, he saw the rain was red and warm with the heat of life… Blood.
With the first fall of the blade, Iago knew Aladdin was dead by the way his legs jerked and slipped out from beneath them as if someone had cut off his control over them. Dead… it wasn’t supposed to be this way. But, even with as much superhuman strength as Mozenrath possessed, he could not drive the blade through the layers of muscle and tendon and bone.
He dropped the sword again, and another rain of blood showered the room.
Then, the shock broke, and a flurry of activity and sound broke was upon them. Jasmine was screaming, her voice broken with agony; Mozenrath was chopping down a third time, and a fourth. Iago thought he must have been moving, because guards moved to push him back. The blood was showering them again, and then everything stopped. Mercy, mercy…
Jasmine stopped screaming; the air was quiet, the blood no longer falling. Aladdin’s head fell from his shoulders… just like Mozenrath said it would. The hero was dead… he was supposed to be ruler soon.
Mozenrath flung the greatsword down next to Aladdin’s body, the look on his face one of disgust, not of triumph. “Guards, have this removed,” he commanded and stalked out of the hall, his tunic, thoroughly drenched in crimson now, swinging in tune to his angry steps. The sound disappeared down the corridor, and only silence was left.
Iago shivered violently and found he couldn’t control it, just the way he’d had no control over what was happening in front of him. Helplessly he looked down at his wings… mercy… They were sticky and warm, while the rest of his body felt cold… Desperately, he tried to wipe away the blood, but it only smeared, the feeling warmer and warmer as Aladdin’s body became colder and colder. His life’s blood was on the walls now, on Iago’s feathers. How could it end this way?
Iago felt his legs go out from underneath him, and he made no attempt to stop himself from falling. He just stared at Aladdin’s headless body, the blood on his wings, at the gleaming Defiance, still stained red. It’s all over… everything is lost.
He turned away from the scene, and finally, he retched.
How could it come to this?
The Third Year by Catie Graham