See the resemblance?
Hey Jasmine~
I think my wife might be looking for me right now.
(I hope nothing’s wrong regarding the baby…)
An Afternoon Arrival
Once Aladdin had heard the strained tone in Jasmine’s voice, he quickly half-led, half-carried her into their bedroom. He was beginning to lose feeling in his hand, and goodness pregnant women were heavy, but they made it safely to the room. Before Aladdin could let out a relieved sigh, the midwife shooed him out. Reluctantly, he left the room.
The hours seemed to inch by for an eternity. He was almost asleep at his post near the door when Jasmine’s anguished cries made their way through the cracks in the door.
Aladdin started, almost tempted to barge in and…and what? He couldn’t do anything here, nothing except wait and keep his wits about him.
Nine months of anticipating and waiting for this moment. Had it really been that long?
The screaming grew louder and louder, and he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.
While he wasn’t the type that thought courage meant being scared of next to nothing, Aladdin really wasn’t scared of much. He’d been running from guards almost all his life, that had stopped scaring him at the fresh age of five. Being arrested didn’t scare him, and that had hardly ever happened. The last time he’d been scared was the last time he thought he’d lost Jasmine, and that had been years ago.
Right now? He was terrified.
Jasmine’s cries ceased, and were replaced by new ones - the sound of a baby’s.
Aladdin slowly opened the door, afraid of what he would see. The scene was actually quite tranquil - Jasmine’s tear-streaked, smiling face, the Sultan’s twinkling eyes, and the midwife stepping up to him to say, “Prince Ali? There’s a very charming little girl we’d like you to meet.”
He was speechless as he walked to Jasmine’s side and knelt down to see her, and the baby, who was very much her mother’s daughter, aside from his somewhat prominent nose. He let out a very relieved laugh as his daughter waved her little hands in the air, wailing. He thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen.
“She’s…wow,” he breathed.
Jasmine looked at Aladdin as he watched his daughter, completely breathtaken by the little hands she was waving so furiously. She gently passed the baby to her father’s arms, and Aladdin held her as if the little girl all swaddled up in that blanket was nothing short of a miracle.
“Meet Ismira,” Jasmine said softly, leaning exhaustedly against the pillows but unable to keep herself from smiling. She couldn’t have stopped for the world, not that she wanted to.
It was as if Jasmine had placed the world in his arms. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share their gift with the world, or keep her all to themselves.
Every move, every line and curve on her little face… It was all perfect.
Aladdin’s smile grew wider at Jasmine’s naming. “Ismira,” he repeated. “It…she…this…is beautiful.
An Afternoon Arrival
Jasmine clutched her husband’s hand more fiercely that she meant to, glad beyond belief he and her father had shown up so quickly. “My water’s broken,” she said tightly. “The baby’s coming. I don’t know how long it will take…” Panic was beginning to well up in her eyes again, but she managed to calm herself down. “We… let’s go inside,” Jasmine said, trying to stay calm as another rippling pain knifed through her abdomen. Although she didn’t realise it, she was holding Aladdin’s hand so tightly he could see the tips of his fingers starting to turn blue.
The three moved inside to Jasmine’s and Aladdin’s bedroom, and the palace midwife seemingly appeared out of nowhere and took control of the situation, which mainly involved kicking the husband-folk out of the room (meaning Aladdin — the Sultan staunchly insisted he would stay with his daughter) and preparing Jasmine for labour. The midwife had Jasmine walk around the room for about two hours until the pains started to occur closer together. “I think — soon,” Jasmine said as another wave of pain washed over her.
“Not quite yet,” the midwife — a rather stout yet comfortingly overbearing woman — said briskly. “But you can lie down now, Princess.” As Jasmine more than willingly complied, the midwife continued on. “Luckily for you, you’ve been having a rather short labour. For some women, it can take five hours or more to get where you are.” The midwife put another pillow under Jasmine’s head to prop her head up, then put a rolled-up blanket under the small of the princess’s back. Jasmine made a stifled sound as the pains continued. Suddenly, she gasped.
“It’s — the baby —” The midwife understood her incoherent fragments and nodded.
“Princess, when I say ‘Push,’ you’re going to need to, do you understand me?” the midwife asked. Jasmine nodded tightly. The Sultan rushed to his daughter’s side and took on of his hands in both of his, patting in comfortingly.
“Don’t worry, dearest. Everything is going to be all right,” he said, bobbling his head to emphasise his point.
“Yes, everything is fine,” the midwife said. “You’re doing very well. Now — push!” Jasmine did so, but couldn’t help a wordless exclamation of pain. “Yes, that was good,” the midwife said soothingly. “Now — push!”
Jasmine wasn’t sure how long this continued. Her father was there by her side, making encouraging comments and allowing his hand to be squeezed into putty whenever the midwife ordered her to push. Sweat rolled down her red face as the labour continued, and although Jasmine tried to stifle her strangled cries of pain, she couldn’t help them issuing forth. After what seemed like weeks (although it had only been about an hour,) Jasmine heard the midwife telling her she was done and then something even more wonderful — the mewling cries of a newborn baby.
Jasmine gasped, half with relief and half with happiness, and held out her arms, shakily sitting up.
“It’s a girl, Princess,” the midwife said with a smile as the swaddled baby was put into her mother’s arms. “You did very well. Well done.” But Jasmine barely heard her as she held the child — her child, Aladdin’s child — in her arms. She smiled at the wrinkly, red little face even as tears streamed down her own. The door opened and Jasmine looked up at Aladdin, the brightest smile she had ever smiled shining on her face even through all the sweat and streaks of tears.
Once Aladdin had heard the strained tone in Jasmine’s voice, he quickly half-led, half-carried her into their bedroom. He was beginning to lose feeling in his hand, and goodness pregnant women were heavy, but they made it safely to the room. Before Aladdin could let out a relieved sigh, the midwife shooed him out. Reluctantly, he left the room.
The hours seemed to inch by for an eternity. He was almost asleep at his post near the door when Jasmine’s anguished cries made their way through the cracks in the door.
Aladdin started, almost tempted to barge in and…and what? He couldn’t do anything here, nothing except wait and keep his wits about him.
Nine months of anticipating and waiting for this moment. Had it really been that long?
The screaming grew louder and louder, and he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.
While he wasn’t the type that thought courage meant being scared of next to nothing, Aladdin really wasn’t scared of much. He’d been running from guards almost all his life, that had stopped scaring him at the fresh age of five. Being arrested didn’t scare him, and that had hardly ever happened. The last time he’d been scared was the last time he thought he’d lost Jasmine, and that had been years ago.
Right now? He was terrified.
Jasmine’s cries ceased, and were replaced by new ones - the sound of a baby’s.
Aladdin slowly opened the door, afraid of what he would see. The scene was actually quite tranquil - Jasmine’s tear-streaked, smiling face, the Sultan’s twinkling eyes, and the midwife stepping up to him to say, “Prince Ali? There’s a very charming little girl we’d like you to meet.”
He was speechless as he walked to Jasmine’s side and knelt down to see her, and the baby, who was very much her mother’s daughter, aside from his somewhat prominent nose. He let out a very relieved laugh as his daughter waved her little hands in the air, wailing. He thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen.
“She’s…wow,” he breathed.
An Afternoon Arrival
Jasmine was sitting lazily on the edge of her fountain, enjoying the mild spring sun, Rajah dozing by her feet. She rested her hands on her rather large stomach, the soft material of her maternity tunic rubbing against her skin. It had been a long nine-ish months as the child inside her had grown. It had been a twisty, emotional, exciting nine months for her and Aladdin, and the physician had pronounced the baby’s due date to be in a week or so.
She stroked Rajah’s fur, content to sit and do nothing for the moment. The nursery had been finished, and she’s been receiving small gifts from well-wishers for the past month. Cinderella had even travelled to Agrabah to throw a baby shower for her. Jasmine smiled, remembering the party. A lot of her friends had come from kingdoms all over, and it had been a lot of fun. But even with that lovely interlude, Jasmine had some growing doubts that she hadn’t mentioned to anyone. She shifted uneasily, her lazy mood disappearing.
Although Father — and just about everyone, really — had been giving her advice on how to be a good mother, she wasn’t sure at all she would know what to do when the time came. Her mother had died when she was three, and Jasmine only had a few vague memories of her. Aladdin had faith in her, and so did her father and her friends, but Jasmine still couldn’t help feeling uneasy. The only things she could remember of her mother was her brushing her hair and humming, and a vague recollection of her mother and her father laughing together. There were a few other scattered memories, but nothing that could serve as an example… Father had been a wonderful parent, but even he couldn’t quite stand in for a mother. She knew Aladdin was suffering from the same dilemma, never having known his father, either, but Jasmine knew he’d be a wonderful father. He was smart and caring and adventurous and strong, and she was… stubborn, and rebellious, and moody. Jasmine shifted again, the pressure of the baby resting in an uncomfortable position. Rajah raised his head and looked up at her, worry showing in his feline eyes.
“I’m fine, Rajah,” she said, stroking the fur between his ears. He put his head down on his paws but still didn’t go back to his nap, his eyes and ears alert. Jasmine smiled and continued petting the tiger. “You’re almost as bad as Father,” she said. “He’s convinced I’m made of clay.” Rajah whimpered, shaking his head underneath her hand and startling Jasmine. “What’s wrong, Rajah?” she asked, suddenly worried. “What is —” she was cut off by a sharp pain in her abdomen as the seat around her became wet. Jasmine looked at Rajah, panic sparking in her eyes. “The baby,” she whispered. She knew it would probably be a few hours before she went into labour, but what should she do before that? Should she move inside, or stay where she was, or… “Rajah,” she said with a hint of desperation. The tiger looked up at her sharply. “Find — someone, please,” she said, suddenly scared to death.
Rajah raced away and into the palace, his claws skidding on the tile floors. Servants shrieked and clambered out his his way as the tiger ran towards the ministers’ hall. Fortunately, the door wasn’t locked, and it slammed open as Rajah raced over to the Sultan and Aladdin, ignoring the outraged cries of the ministers. He butted the Sultan with his head and clamped his teeth into Aladdin’s cape, trying to make them both understand.
Conferences with the ministers were painfully boring at best and nerve-wracking at worst, depending on who you were. Aladdin wasn’t unused to being in uncomfortable situations, but he readily agreed that a good day was a day when he was at a boring conference.
And it had really started out that way. All of them seated around a table, him spending the first hour trying very hard not to slouch and give away his background before (quite literally) caving, the ministers proposing things with either slow, dull voices that at worst reminded him of Jafar or with quick, gruff words that barely made it past their generous facial hair. And, as always, the Sultan would be there making a stance against such-and-such or heartily agreeing with this-and-that. And sometimes proposing different laws and other things made him, nervous, too. Though Aladdin had absolutely detested the old man’s insistence at his presence in these meetings at first, both had been brought closer by the dislikes and discomforts of these conferences.
Of course, these past nine months had been rather unusual, and this day was no exception. In fact, it was possibly the most interesting, as Rajah came bolting into the room.
Before Aladdin could even ask what on earth was going on, Rajah had his teeth sunk into his cape and the Sultan was on the floor, shaking his head of the shock.
Now, Aladdin and Rajah had a very interesting relationship. After years of being rather territorial with Jasmine (and occasionally, Rajah still could be), they’d both become something of allies. Maybe even friends. Sort of.
Aladdin put up his hands in what he meant to be a calming gesture. “Whoah, whoah, down, boy,” he gasped. Rajah just gave him an indignant look and tugged at his cape.
Okay. At least the tiger hadn’t gone absolutely rabid.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Rajah just kept giving him that look and pulling on his cape. The tiger’s strength was incredible - Aladdin was almost sliding on his feet when the Sultan was up on his own and cried, “Jasmine! …The baby!”
Oh, Allah… At this, Rajah had released hold of Aladdin’s cape, and he and the Sultan pelted down the halls after him.
Rajah led them to the fountain, where a very distressed-looking Jasmine was half-sitting, half-lying, taking in short, shallow breaths. She had grown very pale.
Aladdin knelt down beside Jasmine and took one of her hands. “Is it time?” he asked gently, trying very hard to conceal his own panic. “Should we take you in?”
The next five people in my askbox...
- First Person: Will get a hug.
- Second Person: Will get a kiss.
- Third Person: Will get both.
- Fourth Person: Will get a favour.
- Fifth Person: Will get to own me for an hour.
themagic-carpet asked: What are you guys going to name him/her? DOES THIS MEAN I GET TO BE AN AUNT?! ((LOL oh Al XD))
Well, we’ve been coming up with a few names, but…we wanted to keep it a surprise till the baby actually comes.
*laughs* Of course, Carpet. Though we’re not sure what we should have the kid call you… Are you okay with just “Aunt Carpet”?
((Yeahhhh my Al’s derpy XD))
themagic-carpet asked: Wait a minute, JASMINE'S HAVING A BABY?! ((hahaha))
…You didn’t know? She’s been pregnant for, what, seven, eight months now? It’s kind of obvious at this point…
((OOC: I’m dying over here XD))
