He was a good man, as far as he knew.
He followed the Holy words faithfully, and served his kingdom well, even if they were ruled under a foolish tyrant. The Sultan was dimwitted, and no matter how much Jafar fought for the lowering of taxes and awareness of the local crimes by street thugs, he just wouldn’t listen to any of his advisor’s pleas.
And his pesky daughter was even worse. Unlike her father, she had wits, but used them against Jafar in many of her temper tantrums. She accused him of false crimes he never committed, and more than once he caught her following him to his chambers, and eyeing him suspiciously. And yet, when she walked slightly, and he spied behind her door…You could dress in whore in gold and she was still a whore.
He had grown up in a harsh environment. He was young, still, young and sweet, full of life, when he saw how thieves entered into his humble house and killed his mother and father, and almost killed him too if it weren’t for his parents’ protection. Even then, Jafar couldn’t find comfort.
He worked and begged as an orphan on the streets, trying his best to not fall into the weak hands of despair and reduce himself to a common thief. He began in the market of trade, selling goods and hoping for a better offer, and he climbed his way up to the top, where he now ended up as an advisor to the royal family.
He had given his council to the previous Sultan, and the vizier still believed, even at this age, that that man had been the chosen one to lead Agrabah into a new age. His son however…
Foolish, lazy, too trusting, naïve…He was so easy to play with, and soon enough the kingdom of Agrabah was in huge debt and had made too many enemies with the neighboring kingdoms.
At first, Jafar thought of a way to negotiate with these rulers and thought of soothing manners to allow a peaceful union between Agrabah and the other kingdoms, but all his plans went to ruin due to the brat’s new founded independence.
He never married, and to this day he felt it was an important and necessary decision. He was bound to his master, and any other occupying a big amount of attention in his life would just be an interruption between him and his kingdom which was always in need of help.
And to make things worse, after Princess Jasmine’s latest escape, this new street rat had irrupted into the palace; claiming to be its new owner, and asking for the princess’ hand in marriage, and she eagerly accepted to lick his fleas and be his slave.
And he dared to challenge Jafar! He dared! The commoner asked for Jafar to perform a multitude of asks, and if the vizier found himself unable of achieving them, the beggar would take Iago, Jafar’s beloved parrot, and give him to Aladdin’s rabid monkey to chew on.
He wouldn’t allow it!
Indeed he would not. For too long he’s been playing the victim, allowing these foolish privileged halfwits to control his life. Today he would be the one in charge.
-You’ve got it, Iago?
-Right here, Jafar. The boy’s kinda slow, ain’t he? I just found it under a pillow…A great place for hiding your lamp!
-Doesn’t matter. What matters now is that I have it.
And he held the lamp, and look down from his tower to the streets of Agrabah, where the crowd cheered for that street rat who dared to call himself “prince”.
-Would ya look at those bazookas cheerin’ for that pipsqueak!?- His parrot cried angrily.
-Let them cheer.- Jafar turned to the lamp, and began rubbing.