Hello everyone! Midori desu^^
First off, I really have to apologise for my extended inactivity. A year is a long time after all :(
I AM SO SORRY! *bows head* *is shot*
Also, this marks my entry into the world of Magi! YAY! *throws confetti*
Yep, that's about it. I hope you enjoy this story^^ I wrote it a few months ago when I was still neck-deep in Magi feels 8'D
"First and foremost, you must not die before me. Everything else comes after."
There are many things that made his kingdom into the flourishing nation it is today, and the ruler of Sindria, King Sinbad, is very aware of them all. As a once deserted island with no valuable natural resources of its own whatsoever, it has come a long way, and not without much sweat, blood and tears. If you asked any of the people, they would without hesitation, attribute Sindria's success to none other than King Sinbad himself and his eight amazing generals.
They are not pretty faces up for show, and neither are they an elite disciplinarian force. Sure, their fighting skills pack more than just a big punch, but that is not all they are. They are friends to Sinbad, colleagues, partners-in-crime, family, and everything else in between. Which is why when Hinahoho suggests it is time he takes a wife, settle down, and experience the joys of having a family, the purple-haired man is genuinely confused.
He already has a family. His beloved eight generals and his beloved citizens of Sindria, they are all his family. He doesn't need a pretty queen (though the thought of that is very tempting) or some charismatic, charming heir (the thought of this one is tempting too) to prove his status. Last but not least, he honestly does not understand the significance and need of "creating" a family…at least, not right now.
Still, it doesn't stop persistent rulers of countries far away from offering their daughters up to him, almost quite literally on a silver platter like the clichéd proverb says. Some are even so desperate they are willing to place on any ranking of importance after the Queen, if she was not them.
Sinbad refuses them all. It would be unfair to accept any one of these lovely maidens and lead them on false hope that he would one day love them, because such a thing would be impossible. He is one who thirsts for adventure, and being tied down does not suit him, especially him with all his thirty years of life experience. That, and he believes in true love.
"Now really," you say. "The lady killer of the seven seas actually believes in love?"
"Well yes I do," the playboy of the seven seas replies. He does believe in love.
The eight generals have been with him for a long time, some not as long as the others, but long nonetheless. Sinbad treats all of them the same, just so their harmless bickering and playful jealousy actually stays harmless. And then there is one whom he very obviously favours, but none of the others complain about it. Who exactly?
Ja'far of course.
Ja'far is an ex-assassin who has been with him longer than any of the others. The very one who was supposed to kill him but decided to serve him in the end. An advisor whom he would entrust his entire kingdom to without so much as a flicker of an eyelid. Ja'far is 172cm tall, male, a workaholic, and the opposite of Sindria's king in almost every way one could imagine.
His expression is neutral most of the time, he shies away from meaningless social contact and work is basically his middle name. Sinbad is always smiling, he initiates social contact (however inappropriate) and it takes Ja'far an average of three hours of chasing and threatening before the king even gets down to doing proper work. Personality-wise, they are worlds apart…yet as humans who have been through what they have, they are just so strikingly similar in a distorted kind of way.
Maybe it's the similarity, or maybe it's the pure difference that draws him, but Sinbad hasn't met anyone who can quite stir his interest like Ja'far always does.
It surprises Sinbad when his advisor does not unleash Bararaq Sei on him when he's pushed up against the wall, even though clearly, his king did so with impure intentions. The smaller man doesn't resist, even as his pale lips are claimed and his headdress thrown off, revealing his mussed up white hair. It is almost as if he knows, and he is not afraid. Almost as if he wants it just as much, with the light pink blush that dusts itself over the bridge of his nose. Sinbad does not stop, and Ja'far does not show any signs of rejection.
The two wake up the next morning, naked as the day they were born. Entangled in the sheets, entangled in each other, entangled in their emotions. Their relationship has gone to the point of no return, and yet neither feels regret at the thought of it.
Dynamics have certainly changed, and it is not long before their unspoken bond is known by the rest of the generals. No longer is it strange that the path to Sinbad's room is deserted once night time falls, and how it is almost taboo to disturb the pair when they are in a room alone. It has been a while since they have come clean with their feelings for each other, and as Sinbad realizes just how tightly he's binding his own fate to Ja'far's, it is the latter that stands his ground. In the eyes of the world, they are far too different, and even if someone as powerful as the king of the seven seas wills it…changing such views will not be easy.
Simply because he is a King, and Ja'far is just a lowly advisor. Ja'far has made a promise to both Sinbad and himself, and it is one promise that he will take with him to the grave.
"First and foremost, you must not die before me. Everything else comes after."
It is funny how Sinbad feels completely dominated by these words even though he can overrule them if he so wished. The general had made clear his position as nothing more than a pawn, after all those nights when whispered words of affection were exchanged, among many other things. Then why…why could he not bring himself to forcefully relinquish Ja'far of his dangerous position, if it might keep him safe for just another day?
Before it all started, before Sindria became a proper country, Sinbad had begun gathering the people who would help him run it. Each time, they would take the offered hand and step up to the challenge. And when he was finally King and asked them all for their services, it only took mere moments as they all bowed simultaneously in their ingrained formations, to swear their utmost loyalty. Ja'far of course was at the very front, his covered head bowed the lowest.
It is only a matter of time before the Kou empire comes knocking at their door, Judal in tow and ready to roll. Sinbad has never pulled out so many stops to up their military power before, but then again Sindria is a new country and nothing like this has happened before. Still, he does not budge on his order that none of his household members assimilate any further with their vessels than they already are.
"What are you saying at a time like this?! We are your pawns, USE us!"
"Just give the word, my king. This could mean a difference between victory and defeat…!"
Sinbad listens to none of it. It may be selfish of him to use Aladdin, Alibaba and Morgiana as the turning point of the war but in his opinion it is not even a choice. His humanity is still intact, it is not so far gone that he will sacrifice the humanity of his own family just to gain an edge in the battle. Pisti, Yamuraiha, Sharrkan, Spartos, Hinahoho, Drakon, Masrur and…
…Ja'far.
Sindria's king has already lost his parents, the ones dearest to him. The man is only human, and he knows losing anymore people precious to him is not an option. He has power now, and it is he who will prevent his greatest fear from ever happening again.
Sacrifice is a very fickle thing. Sometimes it is necessary, sometimes it is not. Sometimes it is big, and sometimes it is small. Sometimes it is something you give up without a second thought and sometimes…you hesitate, because your conscience stops you. It is perhaps a sacrifice you would rather die than hand over willingly. And then there is war, where no one gets a choice in what sacrifices are made.
Most young kings on their deathbeds would be mourning their lack of heirs to succeed them, maybe regret not finding love, or perhaps feel that they have not put right a big wrong they have made. Sinbad has not yet reached his deathbed, but as his magoi slowly dips and bits of his past flash across his eyes, he might not be too far off. His generals are holding their ground, and his only wish is that when it all ends, they are still there to smile at him, tell him it's all ok.
Sinbad wants to see Ja'far's exasperated expression, hear him yell that the reports are not going to write themselves and forcefully haul his King's ass to work.
The war is ending, and Sinbad is forced to remember his white-haired advisor's words to him. Ja'far is a man of a few words, and one who never breaks a promise. As fate would have it, he is about to fulfill his only goal in life, even if not in the way he wanted to. The king can only watch in horror, as the smaller man falls right in front of him, having used himself as a protective shield.
Yamuraiha shakes her head, tears flying everywhere. It is too late, she whispers. The damage to Ja'far's body is too much and even what little she can do with her leftover magoi would be useless. They're all tired, but breathing, and their hearts still beating. Yet in their barely there victory, it has been decided that one of them will not make it to the very end. The ex-assassin's body is littered with fresh scars, with equally fresh blood pouring out of them. His joints have been hacked into pieces with ice, and his limbs charred black beyond recognition. Bararaq Sei hangs limply from his wrists, a useless bunch of strings and blades now that their owner no longer has the energy to power them. Ja'far's eyes are half-lidded, his breaths slow and painful through cracked ribs and busted lungs.
Sinbad wants to cry, he really does, but the tears do not come. Fate has been cruel to him once more, having given him something dear only to take it away again. It hurts him so much on the inside, that he has to see someone he loves so much go right in front of his eyes. The thought of it all almost pushes him to let the black rukh in him to take over, so that he may curse this horrible fate that has befallen him. But then he stops.
Ja'far holds his hand, says it's ok, and smiles. Not just at his King, but everyone else too. His condition does not allow him much speech if any at all, but he does not give up, even as he coughs up more blood in the process.
"…kept my promise…"
His already soft voice only gets softer, and as Sinbad moves closer, such that the blood on the advisor's cheek rubs off on his own, he hears it. A feeble whisper to the wind.
"…I…love…you…"
His golden eyes widen and his lips and arms move on their own. They pull the small and weakened body up, and Sinbad finds himself desperately kissing Ja'far, as if doing so would bring the breathe the colour back into those pale cheeks. He knows the others are watching, and it does not bother him in the least. His lover's hair is oh so soft, and those beautiful gray eyes oh so expressive.
When he pulls away, Ja'far's hand is no longer gripping onto the front of his robes; they are slack on the ground next to his unmoving chest. His blood-coated lips are no longer warm, and his half-lidded gray orbs are completely blank.
"First and foremost, you must not die before me. Everything else comes after."
That's it. He was just gone like that. Aladdin joins the group, his face solemn and almost tearing up as the harsh reality is laid bare before him. Sindria may have won but their wills to push forward and move on are wavering. The young magi watches as Ja'far's white rukh joins the lifestream, then inhales and raises his staff.
"Solomon's Wisdom!"
Just like in Baldadd, numerous streams of light burst forth from the lifestream, as war casualties seeking out their loved ones. The king and his generals wait, and it is not long before the translucent form of their own casualty materializes in front of them. Ja'far runs to Sinbad, holding both his hands, smiling, crying at the same time. He pulls his king down to his level and whispers more mysterious words to him. Words from his heart that he was too embarrassed to say when he was alive.
Sinbad can only watch wide-eyed as the white-haired general gives a little wave with a grin plastered on his freckled face, before he floats off, joining everyone else who is returning to the flow of the universe. All is silent before a choked sob escapes the king's mouth, followed by many others, his tear ducts finally working right after the events of the past minutes. For the sake of his almost ruined kingdom, he has to stop thinking "If only…" and start thinking "From now on…"…
…but for now, he is just a broken man, mourning the loss of yet another dear to him.
"First and foremost I love you, Sin…everything else comes after."
QAQ
Why just why is my return to fanfiction always marked by an angst fic?! *cries*
I shall just...hide in a cave.
Posted: 05/02/2014 (dd/mm/yyyy)