Fic: Arabian Nights - Ch. 4
Title: Arabian Nights
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The story of a prince, a watchmaker, and the magical lamp that changed their lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Aladdin.
Warnings: Humor, Slash, AU, Language
Prologue| Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3
His head, his neck, his back... his entire body was killing him. It hurt to breath and Gabriel suddenly wished he could just go back to sleep. Yet the tiny hands and worried cheeps would not leave him alone, so he reluctantly opened his eyes, only to be greeted by more darkness.
"Ow. My head," Gabriel groaned, sitting up carefully as he cradled his head in his hands.
He remembered the lamp, remembered grabbing it just before the Cave erupted into a fiery nightmare, remembered how the carpet had grabbed him and Luke and flown them to safety only for the mysterious old man try to kill him. Gabriel remembered it all, he had just been hoping that the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a bad dream, but it looked like he wasn't so lucky.
As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the young man found that there was nothing to see except cold, hard rocks. The Cave was completely sealed off above him, and the small space in which his sat didn't seem to lead anywhere else. He was trapped in every sense of the word with a limited air supply, a kleptomaniac monkey, and an enchanted carpet. For the first time in his life, Gabriel wished that he was back at his shop.
"He tricked me," Gabriel lamented. He knew there was no point in talking, because neither Luke nor the carpet could talk back, but it felt better to put his feelings into words. "I should have known he was going to turn on me. He got everything he wanted and I'm... trapped."
The young man was so wrapped up in his own misery that he barely felt the hard object pocking at his side. He frowned, turning to see that it was Luke, pushing the tip of the lamp he had given the hermit into Gabriel's thigh.
His mouth dropped as he gaped at the monkey. Even when faced with mortal danger, the monkey still couldn't resist the urge to pick a pocket. "How did you...?" he began, but decided not to finish his thought. It didn't matter how Luke had gotten the lamp, it didn't even matter that the lamp was here, because it was just a piece of gold. It couldn't break him out of the cave.
Gabriel sighed, noticing that bits of dirt and ash had caked onto the once smooth, glittering surface of the golden lamp. Without really thinking, he began brushing the dirt away, only to find that the lamp began to glow, sparkling red and then blue as the metal structure quaked in his hands. Luke and the carpet scrambled away as the young man instinctively clutched the lamp, even as blue sparks shot out of its spout.
A plume of blue smoke erupted from the lamp, swirling around in mid air as an enchanting blue light filled the bowels of the cave. Within the blink of an eye, the smoke evaporated and in its place was a beautiful young girl. She was petite, with long blonde hair pilled on the top of her head in a single pony tail and dazzling blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. For a moment, her skin was a bright sky blue, but it quickly faded away into a more human beige.
The girl groaned, stretching as every joint in her body popped loudly. "Oy!" she huffed. "Does it ever feel good to be out of there, especially after ten thousand years and thousands of bedsores!"
Gabriel was completely speechless. His mind was reeling as he struggled to piece together what on earth was going on. He merely stared at the newly arrived occupant of the cave, dumbfounded as he searched for something to say.
She stared at him, blinking curiously as she turned her head this way and that. "Was I too much for you?" she asked, waving a tiny hand in front of his face. "Wake up kid! The last thing I need is a mute master."
"Ma-master?" he stuttered. "I'm your master?"
"He speaks!" the girl cheered, the blue light in the cave growing with her excitement. "That's right cutie, you're my master and I'm your genie."
"Genie?" he squeaked and just as the words left him, the girl's arm stretched to an impossible length just so that she could press her dainty finger against his lip.
"Okay, enough of the parrot act," she snapped. "Let me just spell this out for you so we don't have any more brilliant questions." The structure of the cave shifted the entire space filling with a vibrant purple light as sparkles and music came out of thin air. "I am Elle -- the ever impressive, uncontained, often imitated, but never duplicated Genie of the Lamp!" The worlds Elle: Powerful Genie materialized out of thin air, flashing just over the girl's head. "I am here to grant you any three wishes that you desire. Got that? Three wishes, and don't even try that 'wishing for more wish' bull with me, because that's all you're gettin': three."
"Any three wishes?" he asked, instantly regretting it, because Elle had just said she didn't want any more stupid questions.
Elle sighed, a sheepish look on her face as she rubbed at her thin arms. "Well, almost any three wishes," she corrected. "There are a few rules... some... limitations, you could say."
Gabriel frowned, suddenly feeling more lost than before. "What kind of limitations?"
Elle disappeared into a cloud of smoke, before reappearing at his side. She sat down on the ground next to him, her small arm instantly wrapping itself around his neck. Gabriel blushed, his face turning several shades redder because he had never been this close to a girl before, let alone one as pretty as Elle.
"Rule number 1," she began importantly, "I can't kill anybody." Gabriel cringed as she made a slicing gesture across her throat and her head popped clean off. "So don't ask." He blinked and suddenly her body was back to normal and Gabriel had to wonder if she had done anything at all. "Rule number 2: I can't make anybody fall in love with anybody else." With that said she leaned forward and placed a quick kiss onto the tip of Gabriel's nose. His face must have been hotter than the sun. "And rule number 3," her body morphed, her skin turning a sickly ash gray as her eyes turned yellow, her pupils evaporated, and weeping sores opened up across her trim body, "I can't bring people back from the dead. It's not a pretty picture and I don't like doing it."
Gabriel cringed, holding his stomach as he fought against the urge to vomit.
Elle's body evaporated into smoke once again, and suddenly she was standing in front of him. "Other than that, whatever you want, you've got."
The young man blinked, looking up at the smooth, tightly closed off ceiling. "Oh," he murmured innocently. "I suppose you can't get me out of this cave?"
"What?"
Gabriel flinched, turning to see Elle's piercing deep gaze had now turned into a fierce scowl. His throat tightened as the small woman crossed her arms over her chest, her body seeming to expand as an intense blue light began to emit from her. "I... I just... I was just wondering if you could get me out of this cave," he squeaked, suddenly wishing that he could evaporate and hide from her intense gave.
Elle snorted, pointing a single finger up at the ceiling before letting out a massive bolt of blue electricity. "Small potatoes," she announced as bits of rubble rained down on them.
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This was the absolute last thing that he needed after a long, disappointing night spent wandering through the desert before having all of his hopes and dreams crushed into dust. It took everything the vizier had in him to keep from rolling his tired eyes as he listened to Chandra yell at him for an act that he didn't even commit. Well, the boy was now dead, but not in the way he had said.
Thompson was more than a little shocked that Mohinder had ratted him out to Chandra. The boy hadn't turned to his father for help in... ever. Yet apparently the idea of the watchmaker's death was upsetting enough for the boy to actually become so distraught that he was willing to turn to the sultan for comfort. The whole experience only made his contempt for the royal family double as he was forced to bow his head apologetically as he listened to the royal speak.
"Thompson," Chandra barked, "I know I have charged you keeping peace in the city, but from now on you must discuss sentencing of criminals with me before they are executed."
The grand vizier knelt down, his head uncomfortably low as he made himself look as solemn and remorseful as humanly possible. "You have my most humblest apologizes, your majesty," he said, his voice a perfect imitation of a humble servant.
Chandra nodded his consent before placing a comforting hand on Mohinder's shoulder. "You see Mohinder, it was merely a misunderstanding," the sultan soothed, patting the young man's tense shoulder awkwardly. "Now why don't we put this entire affair behind us?"
Thompson stood, flashing the young boy a condescending smile as the prince glared at him. "At least I can take comfort in one thing," Mohinder began through clenched teeth, "when I become sultan I will have the power to get rid of you!"
With that said, the boy turned and stormed out of the room, clearly not ready to forgive and forget. Chandra gave a weary sigh as he followed after his son, most likely intent on discussing the search for a potential spouse.
Once both men were out of the room, Thompson allowed himself a frustrated growl. "If only I had gotten that damn lamp."
"I will have the power to get rid of you!" Candice parroted her voice a disturbingly accurate replica of the prince. She huffed, pluming her feathers angrily. "I can't believe we're going to have to keep slaving away under that pompous, idiot and his bratty son for the rest of our lives," she lamented, once again speaking in her normal voice.
"Only until the brat gets married," Thompson commented dryly. He scowled, walking towards the window that over looked the royal gardens. Down below he could see Mohinder and Chandra emerge from within the palace, talking very adamantly about something. "He'll probably have us beheaded by then."
"Eep!" Candice gulped, clutching her neck protectively.
The vizier wasn't worried. Mohinder may have been more aware than his father, but he doubted that even the stubborn young prince could fight against his magic. Thompson smirked, tapping his staff against the wall thoughtfully as he watched as the two men continued to bicker with one another.
The sound of Candice fluttering her feathers pulled him out of his musings. "You know, Eric, I've been thinking," she began thoughtfully.
"Candice, honey, you know you're not here to think," he mocked.
He smirked as the bird jumped off his shoulder and onto the head of his staff just so he could watch as she rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, but hear me out," she continued. "This whole 'marry a man' idea you put into the sultan's head can work to our benefit." Thompson frowned, but said nothing, willing the bird to continue. "I mean, what if you married Mohinder? You marry the prince and then you'll become the sultan."
The man felt his frown deepen, turning thoughtful as his gaze flickered from the bird to the young man sitting perched on the edge of the water fountain, his dark features marred by an irritated scowl. Mohinder had been nothing but a stubborn brat since the day he was thrown out into the world, but the vizier had to admit that the boy had grown into quite the beauty. "Marry Mohinder?" he mused. "Yeah, I can do that."
Candice chuckled fluttering back onto his shoulder as Thompson pushed himself away from the window and over to the now empty throne. He smiled, sitting down in the seat that had always been meant for him.
"And then, once you two are 'happily married,' we can get rid of Chandra and the brat and Agrabah will be ours!"
Thompson's smile widened at the parrot's excited declaration. He'd follow her plan... well, most of it. Mohinder could stay. His magic would insure that the prince would be nice and manageable. Of course, Candice didn't need to hear that just yet.
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Elle picked the spot where they should land: a surprisingly large oasis set half way between Agrabah and where the Cave of Wonders had once been. She and Carpet seemed to have some sort of understanding, most likely because they were both magical beings, so Gabriel allowed the genie to do most of the flying.
They landed smoothly enough -- Carpet carrying them to a thicket of trees beside a pond of fresh water -- and Gabriel had to admit that it felt good to be out in the open.
"And you doubted my powers," Elle beamed, floating off of the rug gracefully. Her lower half completely evaporated, morphing into a single, transparent tail that she used to practically swim through the air. "Well I sure showed you, Master."
"Uh, it's Gabriel," the watchmaker corrected. The idea of a pretty young girl calling him master was too unsettling to even entertain.
"Alright, Gabe," the genie said cheerfully. "Now let's get to work on those other two wishes."
Gabriel blinked, wrinkling his nose in confusion at her comment. "Two wishes? I still have three."
"Nuh ah!" Elle shot back. "You used your first wish to get out of the Cave!"
"No," Gabriel corrected. "I never wished for you to do that. You just... kinda did it on your own."
The girl opened her mouth to correct him, but no sound managed to come out. Instead, her entire face turned bright red with embarrassment, no doubt realizing the depth of her mistake. "Oh... shit," she breathed. "Okay, so technically that wasn't a wish, but... well no more freebies, 'kay?"
He shrugged. That seemed more than fair, but he didn't exactly know what to wish for. He didn't even really believe that any of this was real! It all felt like some incredibly elaborate dream. He may have nearly died while getting the lamp, but the fact that he had someone here to make his deepest desires come true just seemed too convenient.
"Three wishes," he mused, thinking out loud as he paced across the burning hot sand. "I don't even know where to begin. What do people usually wish for?" He turned towards Elle, who was currently gazing at her own reflection in the water, completely ignoring him. "What would you wish for?"
Elle spun around, staring in quiet awe. "Me?" she asked, and Gabriel had to admit that that was something of a silly question. After all, the only other two beings at the oasis were a monkey and a carpet, neither of which could speak. "Oh... nobody's ever asked me that before." She fell silent, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. The youth could tell from the self-conscious gleam in her eyes that she already had something in mind -- probably had for a very long time -- but didn't want to tell him. "Well... it's stupid... you, you don't wanna know."
Gabriel frowned, resting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You can tell me," he assured her. "I'm sure it's not stupid."
Her blue eyes met his, twinkling with uncertainty and a need to trust him, trust anyone. "Freedom," she said simply and Gabriel suddenly felt awful holding the golden lamp in his hands.
"You're a prisoner?"
She nodded, touching the bright golden bands that were wrapped around her wrists. Those bands started to look more like shackles to him. "It's part of the whole genie dead: phenomenal cosmic powers, tiny portable prison."
"That's terrible," Gabriel murmured, handing the lamp over to the carpet. Holding it in his hands didn't seem so appealing.
"But if I were free, I could do whatever I wanted, be whatever I wanted." There was a wistful, heart sick note to her words, and a longing that Gabriel suddenly knew all too well. Elle was trapped in her lamp just like he had been trapped in his life. No. It was worse. She was trapped for eternity, he just had one lifetime. She sighed, floating downward until she was sitting on the ground, her chin resting in her hands. "But, freedom's not exactly in the cards for me."
"Why not?" Gabriel asked as he sat down beside her.
She laughed; a bitter, mirthless sound. "Well, the only way I can be free is if my master were to wish me free."
"Oh," he said quietly, looking between Elle and the lamp. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was the right thing to do, and Gabriel knew he could do it because two wishes would be more than enough for him. "Well... I could always set you free."
"Yeah, ya could," she began sarcastically, "but-"
"No, I'll really do it," he cut in, his hand falling on her arm as if to prove how serious he was. "When I'm done with my first two wishes, I'll use the last one to wish you free. You deserve to be free."
She smiled at him, a sad gleam in her sky blue orbs. She didn't believe him, but just hearing the words obviously meant the world to her. "Thank you, Gabriel," she whispered, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "So, let's get down to business. What is it that you want most?"
His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed, and suddenly all the boy could think about was the Crown Prince of Agrabah. "Well... there's this boy..."
"Boy?" Elle squeaked, and Gabriel suddenly wanted to go back in time and stop himself from speaking. "A boy? Gabe you're ...? You like...?" A high pitch, glass shattering squeal suddenly escaped the genie's lips and Gabriel really truly hated himself for ever speaking. "Allah this is too cute!" A cloud of smoke surrounded them, and suddenly two chairs, a small table, and two cups of tea materialized out of thin air. Elle reached across the table and squeezed his hands excitedly in hers. "Oh my gosh! Tell me more! Tell me more! What's he like?"
The watchmaker's face must have been on fire by that point. He wasn't sure if Elle was pulling his leg or sincerely interested, but he decided to continue. Maybe talking would make him feel a little bit less pathetic. "He's... amazing," he said simply, unable to articulate just how he felt, because thinking about Mohinder made his tongue feel thick and filled his head with a jumble of thoughts and feelings. "He's so beautiful. He has the most amazing eyes and his hair... it's so curly and... and his smile..."
"Aww!" the genie gushed, acting very much like her physical age. "You're in love! But... I can't make anybody fall in love, Gabe."
His heart sank, ripping itself into a million pieces at her words. He had forgotten about that rule. "I know," he whispered. "But it doesn't matter anyway. He's a prince and the only way for me to even get near him would be..." A light went off in his head as the watchmaker was suddenly hit by a brilliant idea. "Elle, do you think you can turn me into a prince?"
"Course I can," she said breezily. She waved her hands, blue sparks flying everywhere, and suddenly the table and chairs evaporated and Gabriel found himself sitting on the ground once again. "But this has to be an official wish. Don't try to cheat me this time, Gabe!"
"Okay," he nodded, swallowing nervously. "I... I wish for you to make me a prince."
"Perfect!" Elle cheered and suddenly they were consumed by another cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared, they were both standing -- Elle once again materializing legs -- as the genie held a length of measuring tape between her fingers and turned Gabriel so that he was standing in front of a floor length mirror. "Stand tall Gabe," she ordered, jabbing at his sides. "Feet together, back arched, shoulders straight!"
He did as he was told, and already Gabriel was several inches taller and much more intimidating. He blushed as Elle ran the tape over his chest, along his back, down his legs, and around his waist. He didn't know what she was measuring, but he knew that her fingers were lingering a bit too long on every inch that she touched. Suddenly the girl wrapped the tape tightly around his middle, before pulling it off in one swift motion. A cloud of purple smoke engulfed him and when it cleared, Gabriel saw that his clothes had completely changed.
The young man was no longer wearing his usual tattered shirt and pants. Instead he was dressed in a clean white suit with silver boots that matched the belt and trimming of his outfit, a cape that went well past his knees and a turban with a bright red jewel and matching feather in the middle. He blinked several times at his reflection, squinting his eyes just to get a better look. If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that a stranger had taken his place, but Elle had done nothing to his physical body, just his clothes.
"Very nice!" Elle purred, running her hands along his broad chest and shoulders. "You certainly look the part, but it's not enough. We need more."
"More?" he gaped.
"Well you can't just walk into the palace. We need some style, some pizzazz." Her blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the small oasis before finally landing on something just out of sight. "Oh, monkey!" she called sweetly. "Come here a sec cutie."
Gabriel wasn't really sure where all this was going, but if it would lead him to Mohinder, then he would do anything.
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Chandra sighed, rubbing at his eyes wearily as pulled out another book from his shelf. It was barely past tea time and already this day was shaping up to be incredibly draining. Mohinder was no longer smashing everything he could get his hands on, but he was still irritated by the whole marriage business and Thompson had completely disappeared from sight. There was something very wrong with both of them, but Chandra did not have the energy to handle it.
With another groan, he gathered up his texts and placed them in a neat stack on his desk. He wished that someone would write a book on how to communicate with a stubborn child.
At that very moment, the door to his study flew open and his royal vizier walked in, an eager smirk on his face. "Sire!" the man began fervently, a scroll clutched tightly in his hands as he strode purposefully over to the Sultan's side. "I have found a solution to your problem with your son."
"Really?" the sultan asked, eager to have at least one problem put to rest. "What would that be?"
Thompson's smirk widened into a keen smile as he unfurled his scroll. Chandra frowned as the paper fell to the floor and rolled several inches before tapping the foot of his desk. "It says right here, that 'if a princess has not chosen a husband by the appointed time, then the Sultan shall choose for her.'"
The man frowned, wondering if Thompson had finally snapped and completely lost his mind. "What does this have to do with Mohinder?"
"Just a moment, your highness," the vizier added dismissively. "There's more." He cleared his throat before starting again. "The scroll goes on to say, 'If a suitable husband cannot be found, then a princess must then be married to the royal vizier.'" A cold feeling suddenly filled Chandra's stomach, as Thompson slowly rolled up the scroll, a too pleased smirk spreading across his features. "You see, your majesty, if this solution can work for a princess, than surely it will be suitable for the young prince."
"You and Mohinder?" Chandra began slowly, the words tasting foul on his tongue. "That's... No. Absolutely not! It's out of the question."
Thompson frowned, his staff shifting in his hand, leaning closer to Chandra's view. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," the vizier told him, just as the world took on a strange red hue and his mind began to buzz. "You will order the prince to marry me."
The words entered Chandra's mind, dancing around his brain and for a moment they seemed right, before quickly souring with wrongness. "But you're so old," he shuddered, only to have the golden serpent pushed closer to him, its eyes burning into his mind.
"The prince will marry me!"
Chandra felt his mind practically melt, his heart beat slowing, as the rightness of that thought once again washed over him. His head bobbed, slow and steady and peaceful as his consent sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to be pushed out into the world.
The sound of trumpets blaring in the distance was like an alarm bell sounding in his ears. The pleasant red fog that had settled over the world quickly evaporated as curiosity over took him. Without a second thought, Chandra brushed past the royal vizier and headed towards the window just in time to see a colorful parade assembling in the streets. It looked like they were about to have a visitor.
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Gabriel felt a bit dizzy as he stared down at the crowd that had gathered in the streets. He had never been this high above the city before and suddenly being in this new perspective made him feel overwhelmed. He looked down at the sea of faces, watching as some gazed up at him in wonder, some beamed at him with what looked like admiration, and some even glared at him with the deepest jealousy. A small part of him worried that one of the people might recognize him and ruin his plans, but that voice was merely a whisper in the back of his head. At the moment, the watchmaker was too busy drinking in the powerful sensation he got from finally being able to look down on the other citizens of Agrabah.
Although, he still had to admit that Elle did seem to have gone a bit overboard. He frowned, glancing ahead at the fleet of belly dancers, sword jugglers, and banner wavers marching ahead of him. Twisting around, Gabriel could see a proverbial menagerie of creatures -- large and small, beautiful and fierce -- parading behind him.
"Don't you think this is a little... much?" he asked, turning to stare at his genie, who was currently sitting cross legged beside him, beaming and waving at the adoring crowd as if it were all for her.
"Of course not!" she scoffed. "Gabe, if you want to win the prince, first you've got to win the hearts and minds of the citizens. Luckily they're easily impressed. A few balloons and streamers and they'll be eating out of your hands." Sparks flew and suddenly a giant pot of gold materialized between the two. "Here, take this and throw it out into the crowds."
"What? I didn't wish for this! And... and is this even real? What happens when people try to spend it?"
Elle huffed, grabbing a fist full of coins and tossing them over her shoulders. The coins twinkled, clattering to the ground in a cloud of dust and suddenly the crowds of on lookers were practically knocking each other over to get to the gold. "Gabe, you ask way too many questions. Don't think, just take!"
The young man sighed, reaching into the pot and reluctantly tossing the money into the crowd. He hoped that it was real otherwise those people would turn against him in the blink of an eye. "I still think it's a bit much," Gabriel commented, continuing to shower the streets with coins. "And what about Luke? Is he gonna be okay like this?"
The genie giggled, petting the monkey turned elephant's large gray back affectionately. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. He's finally pulling his weight."
Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes at her words. His ears perked up when he heard the crowd start to cheer, calling out to him with words of love and devotion. Maybe it wasn't too much. He did wish to be a prince and this was what being royalty was all about, wasn't it? Being loved, adored, respected, and even feared? Surely Mohinder would be impressed by all of this.
As they approached the palace, he saw the large, polished doors to the private grounds swing open for the first time. His heart hammered eagerly in his chest. For the first time he wasn't dreading what awaited him, he just wanted to see Mohinder again.
"Okay, here comes step two," Elle announced, gripping his shoulders tightly in her tiny hands and leaning in a bit too close. "It's time to win over the Sultan. Now, I'm not gonna be with you when you go into the palace, but I know his type. The Sultan, like every other royal, will be pompous and vain. Stroke his ego like crazy. Whatever he says, agree with. Tell him how brilliant he is and how wonderful his kingdom is."
"How do you know so much about royalty?"
The girl shrugged. "You think you're the first person to wish to become a prince? I've made thousands of kings and lords in my life. Of course, you're the first one to make this wish out of love." With that said, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed a firm kiss onto his cheek. He really wished Elle would stop kissing him. Whenever she did his face would turn as red as a tomato and he'd squirm around uncontrollably. "Good luck, Gabriel."
He chuckled, gently pushing her away. "No, not Gabriel, remember? It's Prince Sylar now."
The genie gave him a quick laugh and a look that Gabriel couldn't quite read before evaporating into a puff of smoke and disappearing into the lamp that he now kept tucked away under his turban. The collection of "servants" that Elle had created out of thin air stood in the palace court yard, leaving not a single inch of space between them as the doors to the castle opened for him. He didn't have to worry about climbing down off of the massive elephant since he was sitting perched on top of the magic carpet. Carpet lifted him up and floated gracefully into the main hall of the palace.
There were two men standing in the polished marble entryway waiting for him. One he recognized right away as the Sultan. He had seen the man before, but always from far away, standing on top of the palace walls, making grand announcements to the public. Now that he was able to get a good look at him, Gabriel realized that he was much smaller than he had thought and looked absolutely nothing like Mohinder. The prince must have inherited most of his looks from his mother.
The other man Gabriel did not recognize, but something inside of him told him that the two had met before. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
He pushed those thoughts aside as he stepped off of Carpet with more confidence and pride than he ever would have thought possible to muster. He stood tall and proud, just as Elle had taught him, and strode over to the Sultan, giving him a grand sweeping bow that somehow managed to keep him looking important yet respectful all at once.
"Your majesty," he greeted, his eyes never leaving the Sultan's face. "I am Prince Sylar. I have journeyed from afar to your great land to seek your son's hand in marriage."
From the way the Sultan's face lit up, Gabriel would have bet that the man had been waiting to hear those words for a long time. The man's eager hands quickly grasped his and Gabriel Gray, poor watchmaker, suddenly found himself shaking hands with the Sultan himself. "Prince Sylar, of course," the royal beamed, and from his confident tone, Gabriel would have sworn the man had actually heard of him. "Delighted to meet you. This is Eric Thompson, my royal vizier, he's delighted as well."
The man stared at him, his light brown eyes gazing into him, pinning him to the spot. Even the bright red parrot perched on the vizier's shoulder seemed to be glaring at him. Suddenly Gabriel felt as if he were a mere cockroach that had managed to crawl into this dazzling world of gold and marble and velvet. Yet within the blink of an eye, Thompson's intense stare had shifted into a pleasant smile as he offered the young man his hand. "Charmed," he said simply, his grip surprisingly strong as he pumped the boy's hand several times. "Although, I'm afraid you cannot just parade in, uninvited, and expect to be given a chance at marrying the prince."
"Nonsense," the Sultan cut in, waving away the vizier's doubts with a dismissive hand. "We've been sending out invitations left and right for prospective suitors. Obviously this boy's kingdom was on the list. He is a prince after all."
"Quite right, your majesty," Gabriel put in quickly. "I received your royal summons not long ago. I hope I am not too late."
"Of course not!" the Sultan said excitedly. The man placed a fond hand on his shoulder, although Gabriel felt as if the Sultan were trying to keep him from leaving. "We are eager to have you here, and I am sure Prince Mohinder will be delighted to meet you."
His heart sang at the mention of the prince's name. "And I'm quite delighted to meet Prince Mohinder," he boasted, his chest swelling with confidence. A small part of him worried that Mohinder would recognize him, but he pushed that thought aside. He barely recognized himself, he doubted that Mohinder would. Furthermore, how could the prince even be bothered to remember a faceless watchmaker? No, Mohinder would have forgotten all about Gabriel Gray by now, but he would never forget Prince Sylar.
"Your highness, please," Thompson cut in, his hand firmly pressing onto the Sultan's arm, pulling him away from Gabriel's side. "How do we know that this boy is worthy of the prince?"
Gabriel glowered as the two men began whispering to each other, exchanging hushed, forceful words less than a foot away from him. He barely heard the vizier comment on how "suspicious" he was, before being shot down as the Sultan reminded him that Mohinder's eighteenth birthday was tomorrow. Gabriel wasn't sure what Mohinder turning eighteen had to do with anything, but he knew that if he did not get the Sultan fully on his side soon then this wish would have been for nothing.
"Your majesty," Gabriel cut in, calmly stepping between the two men and focusing his attention only on the Sultan. "I can assure you that my intentions are nothing but honorable. Just permit me to meet your son and I assure you I'll win him."
The Sultan smiled, relief shining in his dark eyes as he gazed at Gabriel as if he were a dream come true. It was a look that only Prince Sylar could obtain, one that never would have been granted to simple Gabriel Gray. The royal opened his mouth, ready to give the young man his unwavering approval when they were interrupted by a hissed, indignant voice.
"How dare you!" Gabriel felt his heart jump into his throat as he spun around to see Mohinder standing in the doorway. His shoulders tense and hands balled into tight fists as he glared at the three men, his rich brown eyes alight with pure contempt. "You three are pathetic, disgusting! Standing around deciding my future? I am not a prize to be won!"
With those words spat, the prince spun on his heels and stormed out of the room. Gabriel suddenly felt as if all the blood had drained out of his body as he stood and stared at the spot where the other boy had once stood. He had wanted to see Mohinder so badly that he never would have dreamed of such a volatile, violent reaction from him. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly?
Chapter 5 - A Whole New World
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The story of a prince, a watchmaker, and the magical lamp that changed their lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Aladdin.
Warnings: Humor, Slash, AU, Language
Prologue| Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3
His head, his neck, his back... his entire body was killing him. It hurt to breath and Gabriel suddenly wished he could just go back to sleep. Yet the tiny hands and worried cheeps would not leave him alone, so he reluctantly opened his eyes, only to be greeted by more darkness.
"Ow. My head," Gabriel groaned, sitting up carefully as he cradled his head in his hands.
He remembered the lamp, remembered grabbing it just before the Cave erupted into a fiery nightmare, remembered how the carpet had grabbed him and Luke and flown them to safety only for the mysterious old man try to kill him. Gabriel remembered it all, he had just been hoping that the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a bad dream, but it looked like he wasn't so lucky.
As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the young man found that there was nothing to see except cold, hard rocks. The Cave was completely sealed off above him, and the small space in which his sat didn't seem to lead anywhere else. He was trapped in every sense of the word with a limited air supply, a kleptomaniac monkey, and an enchanted carpet. For the first time in his life, Gabriel wished that he was back at his shop.
"He tricked me," Gabriel lamented. He knew there was no point in talking, because neither Luke nor the carpet could talk back, but it felt better to put his feelings into words. "I should have known he was going to turn on me. He got everything he wanted and I'm... trapped."
The young man was so wrapped up in his own misery that he barely felt the hard object pocking at his side. He frowned, turning to see that it was Luke, pushing the tip of the lamp he had given the hermit into Gabriel's thigh.
His mouth dropped as he gaped at the monkey. Even when faced with mortal danger, the monkey still couldn't resist the urge to pick a pocket. "How did you...?" he began, but decided not to finish his thought. It didn't matter how Luke had gotten the lamp, it didn't even matter that the lamp was here, because it was just a piece of gold. It couldn't break him out of the cave.
Gabriel sighed, noticing that bits of dirt and ash had caked onto the once smooth, glittering surface of the golden lamp. Without really thinking, he began brushing the dirt away, only to find that the lamp began to glow, sparkling red and then blue as the metal structure quaked in his hands. Luke and the carpet scrambled away as the young man instinctively clutched the lamp, even as blue sparks shot out of its spout.
A plume of blue smoke erupted from the lamp, swirling around in mid air as an enchanting blue light filled the bowels of the cave. Within the blink of an eye, the smoke evaporated and in its place was a beautiful young girl. She was petite, with long blonde hair pilled on the top of her head in a single pony tail and dazzling blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. For a moment, her skin was a bright sky blue, but it quickly faded away into a more human beige.
The girl groaned, stretching as every joint in her body popped loudly. "Oy!" she huffed. "Does it ever feel good to be out of there, especially after ten thousand years and thousands of bedsores!"
Gabriel was completely speechless. His mind was reeling as he struggled to piece together what on earth was going on. He merely stared at the newly arrived occupant of the cave, dumbfounded as he searched for something to say.
She stared at him, blinking curiously as she turned her head this way and that. "Was I too much for you?" she asked, waving a tiny hand in front of his face. "Wake up kid! The last thing I need is a mute master."
"Ma-master?" he stuttered. "I'm your master?"
"He speaks!" the girl cheered, the blue light in the cave growing with her excitement. "That's right cutie, you're my master and I'm your genie."
"Genie?" he squeaked and just as the words left him, the girl's arm stretched to an impossible length just so that she could press her dainty finger against his lip.
"Okay, enough of the parrot act," she snapped. "Let me just spell this out for you so we don't have any more brilliant questions." The structure of the cave shifted the entire space filling with a vibrant purple light as sparkles and music came out of thin air. "I am Elle -- the ever impressive, uncontained, often imitated, but never duplicated Genie of the Lamp!" The worlds Elle: Powerful Genie materialized out of thin air, flashing just over the girl's head. "I am here to grant you any three wishes that you desire. Got that? Three wishes, and don't even try that 'wishing for more wish' bull with me, because that's all you're gettin': three."
"Any three wishes?" he asked, instantly regretting it, because Elle had just said she didn't want any more stupid questions.
Elle sighed, a sheepish look on her face as she rubbed at her thin arms. "Well, almost any three wishes," she corrected. "There are a few rules... some... limitations, you could say."
Gabriel frowned, suddenly feeling more lost than before. "What kind of limitations?"
Elle disappeared into a cloud of smoke, before reappearing at his side. She sat down on the ground next to him, her small arm instantly wrapping itself around his neck. Gabriel blushed, his face turning several shades redder because he had never been this close to a girl before, let alone one as pretty as Elle.
"Rule number 1," she began importantly, "I can't kill anybody." Gabriel cringed as she made a slicing gesture across her throat and her head popped clean off. "So don't ask." He blinked and suddenly her body was back to normal and Gabriel had to wonder if she had done anything at all. "Rule number 2: I can't make anybody fall in love with anybody else." With that said she leaned forward and placed a quick kiss onto the tip of Gabriel's nose. His face must have been hotter than the sun. "And rule number 3," her body morphed, her skin turning a sickly ash gray as her eyes turned yellow, her pupils evaporated, and weeping sores opened up across her trim body, "I can't bring people back from the dead. It's not a pretty picture and I don't like doing it."
Gabriel cringed, holding his stomach as he fought against the urge to vomit.
Elle's body evaporated into smoke once again, and suddenly she was standing in front of him. "Other than that, whatever you want, you've got."
The young man blinked, looking up at the smooth, tightly closed off ceiling. "Oh," he murmured innocently. "I suppose you can't get me out of this cave?"
"What?"
Gabriel flinched, turning to see Elle's piercing deep gaze had now turned into a fierce scowl. His throat tightened as the small woman crossed her arms over her chest, her body seeming to expand as an intense blue light began to emit from her. "I... I just... I was just wondering if you could get me out of this cave," he squeaked, suddenly wishing that he could evaporate and hide from her intense gave.
Elle snorted, pointing a single finger up at the ceiling before letting out a massive bolt of blue electricity. "Small potatoes," she announced as bits of rubble rained down on them.
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This was the absolute last thing that he needed after a long, disappointing night spent wandering through the desert before having all of his hopes and dreams crushed into dust. It took everything the vizier had in him to keep from rolling his tired eyes as he listened to Chandra yell at him for an act that he didn't even commit. Well, the boy was now dead, but not in the way he had said.
Thompson was more than a little shocked that Mohinder had ratted him out to Chandra. The boy hadn't turned to his father for help in... ever. Yet apparently the idea of the watchmaker's death was upsetting enough for the boy to actually become so distraught that he was willing to turn to the sultan for comfort. The whole experience only made his contempt for the royal family double as he was forced to bow his head apologetically as he listened to the royal speak.
"Thompson," Chandra barked, "I know I have charged you keeping peace in the city, but from now on you must discuss sentencing of criminals with me before they are executed."
The grand vizier knelt down, his head uncomfortably low as he made himself look as solemn and remorseful as humanly possible. "You have my most humblest apologizes, your majesty," he said, his voice a perfect imitation of a humble servant.
Chandra nodded his consent before placing a comforting hand on Mohinder's shoulder. "You see Mohinder, it was merely a misunderstanding," the sultan soothed, patting the young man's tense shoulder awkwardly. "Now why don't we put this entire affair behind us?"
Thompson stood, flashing the young boy a condescending smile as the prince glared at him. "At least I can take comfort in one thing," Mohinder began through clenched teeth, "when I become sultan I will have the power to get rid of you!"
With that said, the boy turned and stormed out of the room, clearly not ready to forgive and forget. Chandra gave a weary sigh as he followed after his son, most likely intent on discussing the search for a potential spouse.
Once both men were out of the room, Thompson allowed himself a frustrated growl. "If only I had gotten that damn lamp."
"I will have the power to get rid of you!" Candice parroted her voice a disturbingly accurate replica of the prince. She huffed, pluming her feathers angrily. "I can't believe we're going to have to keep slaving away under that pompous, idiot and his bratty son for the rest of our lives," she lamented, once again speaking in her normal voice.
"Only until the brat gets married," Thompson commented dryly. He scowled, walking towards the window that over looked the royal gardens. Down below he could see Mohinder and Chandra emerge from within the palace, talking very adamantly about something. "He'll probably have us beheaded by then."
"Eep!" Candice gulped, clutching her neck protectively.
The vizier wasn't worried. Mohinder may have been more aware than his father, but he doubted that even the stubborn young prince could fight against his magic. Thompson smirked, tapping his staff against the wall thoughtfully as he watched as the two men continued to bicker with one another.
The sound of Candice fluttering her feathers pulled him out of his musings. "You know, Eric, I've been thinking," she began thoughtfully.
"Candice, honey, you know you're not here to think," he mocked.
He smirked as the bird jumped off his shoulder and onto the head of his staff just so he could watch as she rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, but hear me out," she continued. "This whole 'marry a man' idea you put into the sultan's head can work to our benefit." Thompson frowned, but said nothing, willing the bird to continue. "I mean, what if you married Mohinder? You marry the prince and then you'll become the sultan."
The man felt his frown deepen, turning thoughtful as his gaze flickered from the bird to the young man sitting perched on the edge of the water fountain, his dark features marred by an irritated scowl. Mohinder had been nothing but a stubborn brat since the day he was thrown out into the world, but the vizier had to admit that the boy had grown into quite the beauty. "Marry Mohinder?" he mused. "Yeah, I can do that."
Candice chuckled fluttering back onto his shoulder as Thompson pushed himself away from the window and over to the now empty throne. He smiled, sitting down in the seat that had always been meant for him.
"And then, once you two are 'happily married,' we can get rid of Chandra and the brat and Agrabah will be ours!"
Thompson's smile widened at the parrot's excited declaration. He'd follow her plan... well, most of it. Mohinder could stay. His magic would insure that the prince would be nice and manageable. Of course, Candice didn't need to hear that just yet.
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Elle picked the spot where they should land: a surprisingly large oasis set half way between Agrabah and where the Cave of Wonders had once been. She and Carpet seemed to have some sort of understanding, most likely because they were both magical beings, so Gabriel allowed the genie to do most of the flying.
They landed smoothly enough -- Carpet carrying them to a thicket of trees beside a pond of fresh water -- and Gabriel had to admit that it felt good to be out in the open.
"And you doubted my powers," Elle beamed, floating off of the rug gracefully. Her lower half completely evaporated, morphing into a single, transparent tail that she used to practically swim through the air. "Well I sure showed you, Master."
"Uh, it's Gabriel," the watchmaker corrected. The idea of a pretty young girl calling him master was too unsettling to even entertain.
"Alright, Gabe," the genie said cheerfully. "Now let's get to work on those other two wishes."
Gabriel blinked, wrinkling his nose in confusion at her comment. "Two wishes? I still have three."
"Nuh ah!" Elle shot back. "You used your first wish to get out of the Cave!"
"No," Gabriel corrected. "I never wished for you to do that. You just... kinda did it on your own."
The girl opened her mouth to correct him, but no sound managed to come out. Instead, her entire face turned bright red with embarrassment, no doubt realizing the depth of her mistake. "Oh... shit," she breathed. "Okay, so technically that wasn't a wish, but... well no more freebies, 'kay?"
He shrugged. That seemed more than fair, but he didn't exactly know what to wish for. He didn't even really believe that any of this was real! It all felt like some incredibly elaborate dream. He may have nearly died while getting the lamp, but the fact that he had someone here to make his deepest desires come true just seemed too convenient.
"Three wishes," he mused, thinking out loud as he paced across the burning hot sand. "I don't even know where to begin. What do people usually wish for?" He turned towards Elle, who was currently gazing at her own reflection in the water, completely ignoring him. "What would you wish for?"
Elle spun around, staring in quiet awe. "Me?" she asked, and Gabriel had to admit that that was something of a silly question. After all, the only other two beings at the oasis were a monkey and a carpet, neither of which could speak. "Oh... nobody's ever asked me that before." She fell silent, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. The youth could tell from the self-conscious gleam in her eyes that she already had something in mind -- probably had for a very long time -- but didn't want to tell him. "Well... it's stupid... you, you don't wanna know."
Gabriel frowned, resting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You can tell me," he assured her. "I'm sure it's not stupid."
Her blue eyes met his, twinkling with uncertainty and a need to trust him, trust anyone. "Freedom," she said simply and Gabriel suddenly felt awful holding the golden lamp in his hands.
"You're a prisoner?"
She nodded, touching the bright golden bands that were wrapped around her wrists. Those bands started to look more like shackles to him. "It's part of the whole genie dead: phenomenal cosmic powers, tiny portable prison."
"That's terrible," Gabriel murmured, handing the lamp over to the carpet. Holding it in his hands didn't seem so appealing.
"But if I were free, I could do whatever I wanted, be whatever I wanted." There was a wistful, heart sick note to her words, and a longing that Gabriel suddenly knew all too well. Elle was trapped in her lamp just like he had been trapped in his life. No. It was worse. She was trapped for eternity, he just had one lifetime. She sighed, floating downward until she was sitting on the ground, her chin resting in her hands. "But, freedom's not exactly in the cards for me."
"Why not?" Gabriel asked as he sat down beside her.
She laughed; a bitter, mirthless sound. "Well, the only way I can be free is if my master were to wish me free."
"Oh," he said quietly, looking between Elle and the lamp. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was the right thing to do, and Gabriel knew he could do it because two wishes would be more than enough for him. "Well... I could always set you free."
"Yeah, ya could," she began sarcastically, "but-"
"No, I'll really do it," he cut in, his hand falling on her arm as if to prove how serious he was. "When I'm done with my first two wishes, I'll use the last one to wish you free. You deserve to be free."
She smiled at him, a sad gleam in her sky blue orbs. She didn't believe him, but just hearing the words obviously meant the world to her. "Thank you, Gabriel," she whispered, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "So, let's get down to business. What is it that you want most?"
His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed, and suddenly all the boy could think about was the Crown Prince of Agrabah. "Well... there's this boy..."
"Boy?" Elle squeaked, and Gabriel suddenly wanted to go back in time and stop himself from speaking. "A boy? Gabe you're ...? You like...?" A high pitch, glass shattering squeal suddenly escaped the genie's lips and Gabriel really truly hated himself for ever speaking. "Allah this is too cute!" A cloud of smoke surrounded them, and suddenly two chairs, a small table, and two cups of tea materialized out of thin air. Elle reached across the table and squeezed his hands excitedly in hers. "Oh my gosh! Tell me more! Tell me more! What's he like?"
The watchmaker's face must have been on fire by that point. He wasn't sure if Elle was pulling his leg or sincerely interested, but he decided to continue. Maybe talking would make him feel a little bit less pathetic. "He's... amazing," he said simply, unable to articulate just how he felt, because thinking about Mohinder made his tongue feel thick and filled his head with a jumble of thoughts and feelings. "He's so beautiful. He has the most amazing eyes and his hair... it's so curly and... and his smile..."
"Aww!" the genie gushed, acting very much like her physical age. "You're in love! But... I can't make anybody fall in love, Gabe."
His heart sank, ripping itself into a million pieces at her words. He had forgotten about that rule. "I know," he whispered. "But it doesn't matter anyway. He's a prince and the only way for me to even get near him would be..." A light went off in his head as the watchmaker was suddenly hit by a brilliant idea. "Elle, do you think you can turn me into a prince?"
"Course I can," she said breezily. She waved her hands, blue sparks flying everywhere, and suddenly the table and chairs evaporated and Gabriel found himself sitting on the ground once again. "But this has to be an official wish. Don't try to cheat me this time, Gabe!"
"Okay," he nodded, swallowing nervously. "I... I wish for you to make me a prince."
"Perfect!" Elle cheered and suddenly they were consumed by another cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared, they were both standing -- Elle once again materializing legs -- as the genie held a length of measuring tape between her fingers and turned Gabriel so that he was standing in front of a floor length mirror. "Stand tall Gabe," she ordered, jabbing at his sides. "Feet together, back arched, shoulders straight!"
He did as he was told, and already Gabriel was several inches taller and much more intimidating. He blushed as Elle ran the tape over his chest, along his back, down his legs, and around his waist. He didn't know what she was measuring, but he knew that her fingers were lingering a bit too long on every inch that she touched. Suddenly the girl wrapped the tape tightly around his middle, before pulling it off in one swift motion. A cloud of purple smoke engulfed him and when it cleared, Gabriel saw that his clothes had completely changed.
The young man was no longer wearing his usual tattered shirt and pants. Instead he was dressed in a clean white suit with silver boots that matched the belt and trimming of his outfit, a cape that went well past his knees and a turban with a bright red jewel and matching feather in the middle. He blinked several times at his reflection, squinting his eyes just to get a better look. If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that a stranger had taken his place, but Elle had done nothing to his physical body, just his clothes.
"Very nice!" Elle purred, running her hands along his broad chest and shoulders. "You certainly look the part, but it's not enough. We need more."
"More?" he gaped.
"Well you can't just walk into the palace. We need some style, some pizzazz." Her blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the small oasis before finally landing on something just out of sight. "Oh, monkey!" she called sweetly. "Come here a sec cutie."
Gabriel wasn't really sure where all this was going, but if it would lead him to Mohinder, then he would do anything.
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Chandra sighed, rubbing at his eyes wearily as pulled out another book from his shelf. It was barely past tea time and already this day was shaping up to be incredibly draining. Mohinder was no longer smashing everything he could get his hands on, but he was still irritated by the whole marriage business and Thompson had completely disappeared from sight. There was something very wrong with both of them, but Chandra did not have the energy to handle it.
With another groan, he gathered up his texts and placed them in a neat stack on his desk. He wished that someone would write a book on how to communicate with a stubborn child.
At that very moment, the door to his study flew open and his royal vizier walked in, an eager smirk on his face. "Sire!" the man began fervently, a scroll clutched tightly in his hands as he strode purposefully over to the Sultan's side. "I have found a solution to your problem with your son."
"Really?" the sultan asked, eager to have at least one problem put to rest. "What would that be?"
Thompson's smirk widened into a keen smile as he unfurled his scroll. Chandra frowned as the paper fell to the floor and rolled several inches before tapping the foot of his desk. "It says right here, that 'if a princess has not chosen a husband by the appointed time, then the Sultan shall choose for her.'"
The man frowned, wondering if Thompson had finally snapped and completely lost his mind. "What does this have to do with Mohinder?"
"Just a moment, your highness," the vizier added dismissively. "There's more." He cleared his throat before starting again. "The scroll goes on to say, 'If a suitable husband cannot be found, then a princess must then be married to the royal vizier.'" A cold feeling suddenly filled Chandra's stomach, as Thompson slowly rolled up the scroll, a too pleased smirk spreading across his features. "You see, your majesty, if this solution can work for a princess, than surely it will be suitable for the young prince."
"You and Mohinder?" Chandra began slowly, the words tasting foul on his tongue. "That's... No. Absolutely not! It's out of the question."
Thompson frowned, his staff shifting in his hand, leaning closer to Chandra's view. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," the vizier told him, just as the world took on a strange red hue and his mind began to buzz. "You will order the prince to marry me."
The words entered Chandra's mind, dancing around his brain and for a moment they seemed right, before quickly souring with wrongness. "But you're so old," he shuddered, only to have the golden serpent pushed closer to him, its eyes burning into his mind.
"The prince will marry me!"
Chandra felt his mind practically melt, his heart beat slowing, as the rightness of that thought once again washed over him. His head bobbed, slow and steady and peaceful as his consent sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to be pushed out into the world.
The sound of trumpets blaring in the distance was like an alarm bell sounding in his ears. The pleasant red fog that had settled over the world quickly evaporated as curiosity over took him. Without a second thought, Chandra brushed past the royal vizier and headed towards the window just in time to see a colorful parade assembling in the streets. It looked like they were about to have a visitor.
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Gabriel felt a bit dizzy as he stared down at the crowd that had gathered in the streets. He had never been this high above the city before and suddenly being in this new perspective made him feel overwhelmed. He looked down at the sea of faces, watching as some gazed up at him in wonder, some beamed at him with what looked like admiration, and some even glared at him with the deepest jealousy. A small part of him worried that one of the people might recognize him and ruin his plans, but that voice was merely a whisper in the back of his head. At the moment, the watchmaker was too busy drinking in the powerful sensation he got from finally being able to look down on the other citizens of Agrabah.
Although, he still had to admit that Elle did seem to have gone a bit overboard. He frowned, glancing ahead at the fleet of belly dancers, sword jugglers, and banner wavers marching ahead of him. Twisting around, Gabriel could see a proverbial menagerie of creatures -- large and small, beautiful and fierce -- parading behind him.
"Don't you think this is a little... much?" he asked, turning to stare at his genie, who was currently sitting cross legged beside him, beaming and waving at the adoring crowd as if it were all for her.
"Of course not!" she scoffed. "Gabe, if you want to win the prince, first you've got to win the hearts and minds of the citizens. Luckily they're easily impressed. A few balloons and streamers and they'll be eating out of your hands." Sparks flew and suddenly a giant pot of gold materialized between the two. "Here, take this and throw it out into the crowds."
"What? I didn't wish for this! And... and is this even real? What happens when people try to spend it?"
Elle huffed, grabbing a fist full of coins and tossing them over her shoulders. The coins twinkled, clattering to the ground in a cloud of dust and suddenly the crowds of on lookers were practically knocking each other over to get to the gold. "Gabe, you ask way too many questions. Don't think, just take!"
The young man sighed, reaching into the pot and reluctantly tossing the money into the crowd. He hoped that it was real otherwise those people would turn against him in the blink of an eye. "I still think it's a bit much," Gabriel commented, continuing to shower the streets with coins. "And what about Luke? Is he gonna be okay like this?"
The genie giggled, petting the monkey turned elephant's large gray back affectionately. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. He's finally pulling his weight."
Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes at her words. His ears perked up when he heard the crowd start to cheer, calling out to him with words of love and devotion. Maybe it wasn't too much. He did wish to be a prince and this was what being royalty was all about, wasn't it? Being loved, adored, respected, and even feared? Surely Mohinder would be impressed by all of this.
As they approached the palace, he saw the large, polished doors to the private grounds swing open for the first time. His heart hammered eagerly in his chest. For the first time he wasn't dreading what awaited him, he just wanted to see Mohinder again.
"Okay, here comes step two," Elle announced, gripping his shoulders tightly in her tiny hands and leaning in a bit too close. "It's time to win over the Sultan. Now, I'm not gonna be with you when you go into the palace, but I know his type. The Sultan, like every other royal, will be pompous and vain. Stroke his ego like crazy. Whatever he says, agree with. Tell him how brilliant he is and how wonderful his kingdom is."
"How do you know so much about royalty?"
The girl shrugged. "You think you're the first person to wish to become a prince? I've made thousands of kings and lords in my life. Of course, you're the first one to make this wish out of love." With that said, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed a firm kiss onto his cheek. He really wished Elle would stop kissing him. Whenever she did his face would turn as red as a tomato and he'd squirm around uncontrollably. "Good luck, Gabriel."
He chuckled, gently pushing her away. "No, not Gabriel, remember? It's Prince Sylar now."
The genie gave him a quick laugh and a look that Gabriel couldn't quite read before evaporating into a puff of smoke and disappearing into the lamp that he now kept tucked away under his turban. The collection of "servants" that Elle had created out of thin air stood in the palace court yard, leaving not a single inch of space between them as the doors to the castle opened for him. He didn't have to worry about climbing down off of the massive elephant since he was sitting perched on top of the magic carpet. Carpet lifted him up and floated gracefully into the main hall of the palace.
There were two men standing in the polished marble entryway waiting for him. One he recognized right away as the Sultan. He had seen the man before, but always from far away, standing on top of the palace walls, making grand announcements to the public. Now that he was able to get a good look at him, Gabriel realized that he was much smaller than he had thought and looked absolutely nothing like Mohinder. The prince must have inherited most of his looks from his mother.
The other man Gabriel did not recognize, but something inside of him told him that the two had met before. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
He pushed those thoughts aside as he stepped off of Carpet with more confidence and pride than he ever would have thought possible to muster. He stood tall and proud, just as Elle had taught him, and strode over to the Sultan, giving him a grand sweeping bow that somehow managed to keep him looking important yet respectful all at once.
"Your majesty," he greeted, his eyes never leaving the Sultan's face. "I am Prince Sylar. I have journeyed from afar to your great land to seek your son's hand in marriage."
From the way the Sultan's face lit up, Gabriel would have bet that the man had been waiting to hear those words for a long time. The man's eager hands quickly grasped his and Gabriel Gray, poor watchmaker, suddenly found himself shaking hands with the Sultan himself. "Prince Sylar, of course," the royal beamed, and from his confident tone, Gabriel would have sworn the man had actually heard of him. "Delighted to meet you. This is Eric Thompson, my royal vizier, he's delighted as well."
The man stared at him, his light brown eyes gazing into him, pinning him to the spot. Even the bright red parrot perched on the vizier's shoulder seemed to be glaring at him. Suddenly Gabriel felt as if he were a mere cockroach that had managed to crawl into this dazzling world of gold and marble and velvet. Yet within the blink of an eye, Thompson's intense stare had shifted into a pleasant smile as he offered the young man his hand. "Charmed," he said simply, his grip surprisingly strong as he pumped the boy's hand several times. "Although, I'm afraid you cannot just parade in, uninvited, and expect to be given a chance at marrying the prince."
"Nonsense," the Sultan cut in, waving away the vizier's doubts with a dismissive hand. "We've been sending out invitations left and right for prospective suitors. Obviously this boy's kingdom was on the list. He is a prince after all."
"Quite right, your majesty," Gabriel put in quickly. "I received your royal summons not long ago. I hope I am not too late."
"Of course not!" the Sultan said excitedly. The man placed a fond hand on his shoulder, although Gabriel felt as if the Sultan were trying to keep him from leaving. "We are eager to have you here, and I am sure Prince Mohinder will be delighted to meet you."
His heart sang at the mention of the prince's name. "And I'm quite delighted to meet Prince Mohinder," he boasted, his chest swelling with confidence. A small part of him worried that Mohinder would recognize him, but he pushed that thought aside. He barely recognized himself, he doubted that Mohinder would. Furthermore, how could the prince even be bothered to remember a faceless watchmaker? No, Mohinder would have forgotten all about Gabriel Gray by now, but he would never forget Prince Sylar.
"Your highness, please," Thompson cut in, his hand firmly pressing onto the Sultan's arm, pulling him away from Gabriel's side. "How do we know that this boy is worthy of the prince?"
Gabriel glowered as the two men began whispering to each other, exchanging hushed, forceful words less than a foot away from him. He barely heard the vizier comment on how "suspicious" he was, before being shot down as the Sultan reminded him that Mohinder's eighteenth birthday was tomorrow. Gabriel wasn't sure what Mohinder turning eighteen had to do with anything, but he knew that if he did not get the Sultan fully on his side soon then this wish would have been for nothing.
"Your majesty," Gabriel cut in, calmly stepping between the two men and focusing his attention only on the Sultan. "I can assure you that my intentions are nothing but honorable. Just permit me to meet your son and I assure you I'll win him."
The Sultan smiled, relief shining in his dark eyes as he gazed at Gabriel as if he were a dream come true. It was a look that only Prince Sylar could obtain, one that never would have been granted to simple Gabriel Gray. The royal opened his mouth, ready to give the young man his unwavering approval when they were interrupted by a hissed, indignant voice.
"How dare you!" Gabriel felt his heart jump into his throat as he spun around to see Mohinder standing in the doorway. His shoulders tense and hands balled into tight fists as he glared at the three men, his rich brown eyes alight with pure contempt. "You three are pathetic, disgusting! Standing around deciding my future? I am not a prize to be won!"
With those words spat, the prince spun on his heels and stormed out of the room. Gabriel suddenly felt as if all the blood had drained out of his body as he stood and stared at the spot where the other boy had once stood. He had wanted to see Mohinder so badly that he never would have dreamed of such a volatile, violent reaction from him. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly?
Chapter 5 - A Whole New World