Sinbad was surely shirking his duties again. It was as always, not a surprise to find the King was not where he was supposed to be but elsewhere, drinking or flirting with ladies. It annoyed Ja'far as it always had done but he was, if nothing else; used to it by now.
He sighed in irritation and set about to search for him in the usual places. People nodded at him at him, bow sometimes as he passed, knowing him to be one of the Generals but his worried expression remained. The point was that sometimes he wished he had been given a more reliable man to work with. Oh, Sin was reliable when it counted – when Sindria was in danger, when Ja'far himself had been in grave trouble years before.
But the day to day problems? Nowhere to be found. Ja'far had lost count of the times he'd had to drag Sinbad back from whatever foolishness he'd been pursuing. He wrinkled his nose a little now at the remembrance. In a way though, he was still surprised that he had any effect on Sin at all. Yet, every time he was admonished Sin, he would still despite his joking, go back with Ja'far. That Sinbad respected him was not something that had ever entered his mind.
Eventually he'd found him, for once actually involved in something more useful; training with Alibaba in the practice grounds. For a few seconds, he simply watched the two. The youngster was far below Sin in skill as was to be expected but there was definitely some potential there, he noted. And Sinbad of course, was Sinbad. The same unbelievable power and confidence that always exuded from his presence was only intensified in the battlefield. Then he saw Sin's golden eyes flash in his direction and he knew he'd been spotted. He clutched his hands together guiltily inside the expanse of his sleeves and stepped forward.
"Sin, there are matters requiring your attention. The trade routes have been blocked again, for example..."
"Yes, Ja'far. I know. We're done here for today, Alibaba? You're improving, you know. Perhaps someday, you'll even surpass me!"
The blonde boy flustered a little at the compliment and disappeared pretty quickly. Ja'far's lips twitched a little as he struggled to pull in a laugh. The boy was so obviously in awe of the King – he wondered if he would feel the same if he had to monitor him every day as Ja'far did. And yet, in a way Ja'far could not help but admire him too.
Sinbad strode over to Ja'far, weapons already cast aside. He peered intently for a second at Ja'far's face, who stared back with a slight frown.
"Was that almost a smile then?" Sin said, his voice almost bursting with laughter itself.
"No. Of course not. Don't be so foolish. It was... nothing of the sort. Now, if you're quite finished-"
Sinbad yawned at the forced change of subject.
"Yes, yes I know, the trade routes. I do wish the blasted things would look after themselves, sometimes."
His hand reached out suddenly and Ja'far was too surprised to step away. Sinbad's fingers lightly brushed the play of freckles on Ja'far's cheek and then he grinned with an air of mischief.
"You should smile more, you know Ja'far. You don't do it nearly enough."
Ja'far bit his lip, feeling again the heavy weight of the weapons strapped to his arms.
"Oh, shut up. It's your fault why I frown so much, anyway. If you would just be where you're supposed to be..."
He turned away with a swish of his robes, so Sinbad could not see the faint redness rising on the skin the King had touched.
"Boring, boring," Sin complained, waving his hand elaborately to emphasise his point. Still, he followed Ja'far as they walked back into the palace, until Sinbad stopped him, holding fast to his shoulder.
"Your face is red," He said softly.
"It's the heat," Ja'far replied, holding Sinbad's gaze firmly, as if daring him to comment further. Thinking wisely perhaps, Sinbad didn't. Even he knew to press Ja'far's temper would not end well.