Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t know what had happened, but in that moment, all he could do was charge forward and pour every bit of energy he could into his metal vessel.

If it’s for her sake, I’ll risk even my life.

Drakon sighed again as he sat in his office, staring back at one of his lime green arms and the reflective gold accents on the door to look at himself, eyes nowhere close to the stacks of paper littering his desk.

It had been years since he decided that he would assimilate with his metal vessel, choosing to devote himself to the one man he could respect without any tyrannical fear involved. Sinbad at that time could have made him do anything, even now he would charge into war time and time again at the matter of simple words.

He remembered the odd sensation of his body contorting, it didn’t hurt at all, the warm light that had illuminated the flowing Rukh rushing into him. Even though it was all a blur, it was a feeling he would never forget, even as he sat at his grand wooden desk, he could recall traces of the moment.

Even though he knew his life as a human would then be forfeit and that there’d essentially be no way to turn back, he made that decision, for Serendine, and for the people who desperately fought for their escape from the palace. To protect his would be wife who waited for him every time he went into battle and greeted him every time he came back with a gentle smile and comforting embrace.

His scales would tingle often, as a sign of his impending molt which took drastically long for what seemed like a simple process. He hated people seeing him when he was molting, feeling revolted at how he looked; even sometimes he’d cover all the mirrors and shiny things he’d own even out of molt because he couldn’t stand how he looked.

Drakon remembered.

He remembered returning from the battle that changed his life forever, to his new allies that had awaited him, but certainly not as a beast of legends, but as a human. A human man who they treasured, as a human.

He tried dragging his impending presence to them longer and longer so that they wouldn’t have to lay eyes on what had become of him.

Drakon had hid away and attempted to cover himself up as much as possible to hide how he looked.

“Drakon is that you?”

He lowered his eyes, still unused to the green scales that stared back at him, not daring to look Sinbad in the eyes.

“Yes.”

“I knew it was you! Now come with us, I’m sure you need to rest.”

He looked up at Sinbad in surprise, a look free of judgement or disgust meeting him.

“Drakon? Are you molting soon?”

He broke out of thought at the sight of his purple headed king poking his head into the office, golden eyes already showing they knew the answer.

“Yes. You already knew by my guess, does it matter that much that you need to personally come ask?”

He pretended to busy himself with papers, cautiously monitoring the tsunami of a presence hovering at his door that came to be known as his one and only king.

“Saher is off waiting for you, she asked me to come get you. Besides when you molt you get distracted, I knocked a few times after I opened the door and you didn’t even look up or twitch.”

Sinbad looked at Drakon with a glare behind them, the same look he gave when giving orders. Only this was scarier, it was near a threat if he hid things behind a smile. He shivered.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.”

Sinbad went off with a grin, door shutting behind him with a silent click; Drakon appreciated that he remembered that he hated it when his door was left open.

“Sir Dragul? Lady Serendine is asking for you.”

He peered out from the corner of his eye, Saher at the door just barely stepping into the room.

“Saher I don’t think she wants to see me right now, especially not like this.”

“She’s worried about you. As are the rest of the people that know you here.”

“Let me ask something of you.”

Saher closed the door behind her, judging that whoever would pass by wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“Yes?”

“What do you see me as? What do you think of me?”

He needed to hear someone say the truth of what he really was, he couldn’t see even himself anymore, just an unfamiliar beast of terror.

“I see you as the same person. You haven’t changed since the moment we were children and you guarded Her Highness. You only look different. You have the soul of someone who’s kind and devoted.”

He walked through the halls of the palace, the White Capricorn tower far behind him as he approached his quarters.

“Drakon, I asked for help to make favorite foods, I’m hoping they’re not cold by now.”

Saher met him at the door with a smile, a nervous one, anticipating how he liked the dishes that were displayed on the lounge’s table by the large window.

It was already enough.

Everything was already there for him.

“Thank you my love, anything you make for me is more than enough.”

As he got closer, he looked at the small details she had remembered, how one side of the curtains were pulled to the middle and the other side tied back with the ribbon.

All the dishes on the table were indeed the things he liked, but they were all special in their own way.

“Are these?”

He looked at each plate with a pointed finger? Talon?

“I tried to guess when you’d be molting and I asked Jafar, he said soon so I thought I’d make some of your favorite things to eat around that time!”

Saher explained herself with a smile, Drakon near crumbling to his knees and sobbing; his molt made him emotional, very much more than usual.

He wanted to cry even more when he noticed the chairs for them had been placed where the sun would shine through the window, but nobody could see him.

He’d be sure to repay her later in some way, but for now, he’d appreciate every little thing she did for him even more.

——————————————————————————

Two weeks later when his molt is over, he wakes before the sun even peeks over the horizon, earlier than when he usually wakes up and turns over to look at Saher sleeping peacefully beside him.

He gets up like normal, but this time he heads straight to the street markets who are just barely beginning to set up. They’re more than glad to supply him with his long list of things to get, smiling to themselves at the general making his way back up to the palace, arms full of flowers and several other bags.

——————————————————————————

Saher felt the sun before she opened her eyes, smelling something delicious. She turned over expecting to see her husband, but instead, she found a tray with her favorite fruits and toast, a saucer of honey, and a steaming cup of wildflower tea along with a folded piece of paper.

“Good morning my love, I know I’m not there to wake you up; Sinbad called a morning meeting and I can’t be with you, but I will meet you for lunch wherever you’d like to choose. I made sure to tell the other maids and guards to leave you be today so take as long as you’d like to get ready. I’ll see you soon.”

She looked up and flower bouquets were scattered all throughout the room, by the door, on the lounge table, anywhere she could imagine.

She smiled brightly before eating from the tray, the thought of lunch at her favorite place in the market already exciting.

It didn’t take long for the merchants to take notice of the pattern of how their scaly general went down to the market once a week early in the morning before anyone else peeked out of their houses for the day, coming with nothing but money, and leaving with nothing but all of his wife’s favorite fruits and flowers.

Chapter Text

Jafar’s panic struck him slightly as the little figures over the dish of water disappeared, there’s no way Alibaba and the others died in the dungeon right?

“Yamraiha!”

He reached out for her in concern as she cried out in pain, the dish of water no longer in their attention.

He heard the commotion outside and before he knew it, was already running out to the balcony with Sinbad and several guards following them.

The barrier had a clear hole at the very top, drops of it oddly clear as if it were melting.

Jafar’s blood boiled , the culprit striking much anger that was reserved in him, not showing it but letting it fog over his mind.

“Judar.”

Sinbad’s voice identifying the very obvious person at fault cut through the fog, snapping him to attention. He called for an emergency alert and for defenses, and before he himself was aware of it, he stood in the plaza.

“Household Vessel, Balalark Sei!”

His wired daggers shot out familiarly from his hands, covered in the gentle blue lightning he’d gotten so used to, Judar’s Borg protecting him from the attack that many fell to.

He stopped in surprise, but it was already too late, Judar firing a simple twisting wind that knocked him all the way back to the palace’s entrance.

The tang of blood was clear in his mouth, but he couldn’t feel a single thing with the amount of anger and adrenaline that coursed through him.

He killed Mystras. He killed Rurumu. He killed Vittel. He killed Mahad. He killed.

He destroyed.

Judar destroyed the only home he’d ever known.

Rage coursed through him within every limb of his body, it didn’t matter to him that he would likely lose; if Judar would just bleed, that would satisfy him.

His legs tensed as he spat out whatever was in his mouth, stepping out from the wall and readying his blades once more. Time and time again they had never failed him, they hadn’t cracked or chipped ever since he first held them and obeyed his every command.

His ties with Sham Lash haunted him, but his blades were a reminder of everything he had built until now, a reminder of how his life changed the very moment he was sent to kill the man he ended up devoting his life to.

“What’s up Ja’Far? You seem lost in thought.”

He looked up at Vittel who leaned over the doorway, tiredness evident on his face.

“I’ve been struggling with swordsmanship training. It doesn’t work out with me.”

“Then don’t do it? I mean you already have your blades. I don’t mean to give up if you really want to do it, but you’re so good with your blades. Why do you need to fight with a sword?”

Vittel asked curiously, Jafar trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t give much of his thoughts away.

“I’ve killed with these.”

It clicked in Vittel’s head without him needing to ask further.

“So you don’t know if you should keep using them.”

Jafar nodded.

“You’ve trained with these blades all your life. You can’t really train yourself to use anything else in the same way or style. They have a different purpose though. Even if you used to kill, we used to kill, we don’t anymore. It’s up to you to decide whether or not they mean something new or something different.”

Jafar didn’t stop thinking. His mind was always filled with thoughts and plans, no thanks to Sinbad who despite being their king, was unpredictable (unfitting seeing as he could see destiny unfold Mystras would say). Now was no different as he listened to Vittel.

“I have to go back to work since Sinbad so lavishly spent money on feasting yet again, but you should try and open up to more people. I’m not always going to be around since you always travel around with Sinbad and I don’t really like that kind of thing.”

He couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’ll try.”

“Stop it Ja’far.”

He kneeled, knowing it was Sinbad even without his command. It was well disguised as a kneel, his body aching in pain while his back and ribs in particular throbbed almost excruciatingly. The adrenaline no longer dulled his body’s sensed as he became very aware of the damage done.

Until it was all over, he’d hold on. He always had been and it wouldn’t change now. There were more important things going on and his injuries certainly wouldn’t be getting in the way until there was a break in time to deal with them.

He makes his way over to stand behind Sinbad, the harsh breeze making it clear his keffiyeh was no longer on his head. Yet another problem Judar caused, he’d have to find it later among all the chaos that would surely ensue.

Ah yes. Old men coming after their lives again.

He near rolled his eyes hearing Judar confirming Al Tharmen was sending a force to destroy them, it would be like all the other times. Still the situation wasn’t something to make light of, he’d be damned if his home was destroyed again.

“Just let him go, it’s not the time to fight with him. Summon the Eight Generals to the White Aries Tower. We’re holding an emergency war council.”

He acknowledged the order and took a breath to relieve some of the pain eating away at his torso before issuing a command of his own for a level 2 alert, summoning the combat units of the Eight Generals as well.

“I’ll have someone get your keffiyeh. Let’s go.”

“Thanks.”

He really d id appreciate Sinbad being aware of him being more comfortable with it, nodding in thanks before turning his attention back to the matters at hand.

The emergency council ended in a decisive manner, the entire kingdom as well as island preparing for the incoming forces. He left the room with a bow, going off alone to compose himself; his injuries combined with his anger were doing anything but wonders for his current state, he needed to be completely focused on doing the best job he possibly could as Sinbad’s advisor.

His ribs groaned in pain with every step he took, the throbbing of his back fluctuating between getting worse and getting better. Think of Sinbad, he’s probably faring much worse with that curse of his at the moment.

The rest of the day was a blur as he laid in his bed, trying to recall what had happened. He went to listen to Sinbad’s speech, then went to the observation room with the magicians, then to the debrief outside the palace, then straight to his room.

The pain hadn’t dulled much, only a slight relief offered by medication that barely landed a dent in his immunity to several poisons, including herbs that were used in both.

Sleep didn’t come easily.

——————————————————————————

A strangled, dry, and silent scream came out from his mouth as he woke up violently, his throat closed up and his body fighting to feel anything, anything at all.

He pulled his daily robes on in a rushed manner despite the urge to take everything off to feel any kind of cooling relief, he wasn’t going to make himself look like a madman any more than he already could to anyone out in the halls at the hour.

Jafar couldn’t hear much, his senses filled with the overwhelming pain that was only cut through by the cold tiles of the palace flooring that kept him awake as he ran to the baths; he didn’t hear his door close, nor did he hear another open.

“Jafar?”

——————————————————————————

The cold bath numbed his skin, now he’d have to visit the healing magicians of the Black Libra Tower discretely with how much it all still hurt.

“Jafar.”

His body and mind still felt hazy, but he would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Sinbad. What brings you to the baths at this hour? You’re usually asleep until past sunrise.”

Jafar kept his eyes closed, the longer he pretended to be tired, the sooner Sinbad would leave him alone. The sooner he would be able to be alone and hide that he was hurt.

“Would it kill you to open your eyes and spare your king some of your attention?”

Now that really got him. Sinbad not once, had ever used his status with him other than in a joking manner, but his tone was serious.

“No it wouldn’t, but would it kill you to get to the point? You’re taking too long and I’m trying to relax.”

He opened his eyes to Sinbad in none of his usual regalia, only in his nightwear with nothing else but himself.

“You? Relax? I doubt it.”

A smile graced Sinbad’s lips that wanted to make him melt into the tub and hide away, fighting the blush that still sl owly creeped up onto his cheeks.

“Ja’far?”

“Hm?”

“You’re ‘relaxing’ in cold water, the sun’s not even up yet and it’s freezing outside. Matter of fact it’s freezing inside too.”

Jafar ignored whatever Sinbad just said, he vaguely heard it, but it couldn’t have mattered much as he slid lower into the bath, the water was getting a bit warmer and the chilling relief was wearing off. Sinbad was at the opposite side, shaking off one of his hands as he recoiled from the temperature.

“Could you get out now? I assume you have no other pressing matters to talk about.”

“Fine. We can talk later.”

Sinbad turned to leave and Jafar was thankful he would be left alone to handle things himself, until a sharp pang went through his side leaving a nasty throbbing that didn’t go away. He shot up straight from the water before curling inwards, hands clasped over his side tightly as his eyes closed shut.

Ouch. That really hurt.

“Hey what’s wrong!”

“It’s from earlier. It’s fine.”

“It’s not and don’t try to hide it either, you’re bathing in cold water when it’s freezing which means you’re trying to numb something. Show me, let me help you.”

Sinbad felt the glare from Jafar before it happened, but he couldn’t help it. He was so important to the world, to Sindria, to him.

“Please. Please Jafar.”

His heart sighed in relief when his famous parental annoyance glare faded and Jafar nodded.

Sinbad’s hands were warm.

His hands were calloused and rough, but gentle and loving. If it had been even an hour of leaning into his touch, it wouldn’t be long enough to satisfy him; only an eternity would feel like enough.

Jafar wasn’t heavy, but Sinbad could feel how he put all of his weight onto his arms when he lifted him to sit on the edge. His front was littered with purples and blues, his lower to mid back mirroring the same.

“Why… why did you hide this from me?”

His hands lightly traced the numb skin that canvassed countless scars, trying not to flinch from how cold it felt under his fingers. He was already cold enough when he opened his door up to Drakon much earlier than he should have following their exhausting ordeal the day prior.

“Who is knocking on my door.”

He grumbled as the biting cold so warmly welcomed him from the comfort of his bed and blankets, deciding it would be better to deal with it sooner rather than later.

“Drakon, to what do I owe you this pleasure at an hour much earlier than my usual waking?”

Sinbad was far too tired to joke or put up with pleasantries, his body was aching from where the curse was. His bed was also nice and warm, his doorway facing the hallway with little insulation and a number of windows however, was not.

“I was headed out to go to the market again to buy things for Saher.”

“Yes your weekly appreciation day.”

“As I was saying, I was about to leave before Jafar ran out of his room. He didn’t hear or notice me.”

That was odd.

“Could you check on him? I couldn’t leave without asking someone and I figured he would feel better if it was you rather than someone else.”

“I will.”

For someone who saw destiny, he didn’t foresee himself getting up before dawn in the freezing cold to chase after his lovely advisor and Sindria’s beloved Prime Minister.

Oh well. Jafar was always cleaning up after him, chasing after him once wouldn’t do him much harm after another ten or so minutes in bed.

How wrong he would be. All day Jafar was by his side, giving out commands and orders as well as advice to him, yet not once had he expressed his own injuries that should’ve been debilitating.

Ten more minutes did hurt. A lot.

“There were more pressing matters. I was going to take care of it after, but I was too tired.”

“Jafar. There are no pressing matters worth more to me than you. I can’t lose you. Nor can I stand it when you bottle things up and don’t tell anyone.”

He could tell Jafar didn’t want to say anything by the way he avoided his eyes.

“I’ll be back.”

He left to Yamraiha’s lab, the blue haired magician sleepily moving about in an oddly organized manner for her current state and appearance before she noticed him at a door.

“What can I do for you my king?”

If it wasn’t evident she was drained from helping restore the barrier, it was now.

“Do you happen to have a medicinal herb or balm or anything for injuries?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“It’s for Jafar. Remember how he was slammed against the wall by Judar?”

“I do, and I already have something ready for that. Although I expected him to come for it discretely.”

She rummages around her messy tables and stocked shelves before pulling out a bundle.

“The salve goes directly on his skin. Bandage it and leave it alone until they turn blue, that’s when it needs to be changed. Do that until it visibly is better. The medicine has to be taken daily, one vial, and don’t give it to anyone else. It’s more dangerous ingredients and higher concentration.”

He listened to her blurred instructions carefully, not daring to zone out even a little bit.

“Thanks. Get some rest when you can.”

The walk to the baths was more like a run, Jafar right where Sinbad left him.

He wordlessly unpacked the box in the bundle and tipped one of the vials into Jafar’s mouth, his face scrunching up ever so slightly at the taste as he swallowed. He let Sinbad dry him off and forced him to turn around to put a fresh pair of pants on, loosely draping a clean night robe over himself before poking at Sinbad.

“Alright, we can go back to my room.”

He took Jafar’s hand and pulled him along back to his room, sitting him on the side of his bed closer towards the nightstand that provided a gentle orange-yellow light in the dark that began to brighten every few minutes.

He doesn’t mention how the salve is cold to the touch, although to Jafar, the cold sliminess wouldn’t bother him. Sinbad noticed how he flinched less and less as the bandages began to cover the odd looking green mixture; either because he could tolerate it or because the medicine was working.

The bundle stayed on his nightstand neatly repackaged before he wiped his hands clean and turned the lamp off, Jafar already under his faintly warm blanket as he turned to look at him.

“Thank you Sin.”

“Anytime. And please. Please whenever something happens to you I need to know if you’re alright or if you need help or anything.”

“Don’t get into the bed! I thought you were leaving.”

Jafar scowls in a scolding manner, a hidden joking tone in his voice.

“I would never leave you.”

“I know.”

Despite Jafar’s earlier rejection of his presence, he welcomes the warmth of his body with little hesitation, his exhaustion pulling at his conscience. Sinbad put an arm carefully around Jafar, terrified to hurt him more than he already was.

“Sin. We can’t do this, there’s a lot to take care of today.”

“Mm. We can take care of it tomorrow. I’m sure everyone would love a break after that little war.”

“Tomorrow then. No putting it off.”

He watched with a tired smile of his own that Jafar matched as his eyes drooped close, his breaths going shallow and almost silent.

Sinbad was glad Jafar didn’t put up much of a fight like he usually would, his facial features finally, truly relaxing for the first time in days, maybe weeks.

“Sleep well my love.”

He savored the peace and quiet of the palace that was much needed, tomorrow and on would resume the usual busyness and he wouldn’t have as much time to appreciate the boy, now man, that he had grown up with; the man he had grown to love quite dearly. A kiss placed onto his forehead made Jafar smile in his sleep, in the afternoon he would wake up to the only man his heart belonged to. His home.

Chapter Text

No matter his status as a Magi, Judar really caused issues. To be fair, his little declaration of war was from Al Tharmen and not himself, but still, problems.

“Come on old hag. Pay attention, there’s a Level 1 Alert, Ja’Far dismissed us to go prepare.”

“Shut up sword freak I was there when he issued it.”

Sharrkan knew he always had a way of irritating her, especially with that snarky grin of his. Today though, it was more empty, the mood somewhat grim after the whole confrontation.

Her head seemed to hurt a lot with a tight expression carefully masked under a thin smile on her usually relaxed face. The barrier he knew she prided herself on creating was separating their island kingdom from any incidents like before. It wasn’t her effort alone that created it, but after it had been broken even just a portion, it was clear how much of her energy really went into maintaining it.

“Hey. Focus on what’s going on yeah? We’re supposed to go up to where Pisti is.”

“Yeah.”

Sharrkan saw the grimace on the magician’s face far before they reached each other in the hall, something striking inside him as it became more clear she was in some sort of pain.

Although it was hidden well, she kept face when they had shown up in the plaza and even throughout the war council although he saw right through it.

“It’ll have to wait until later. I’d be back to normal sooner rather than later with the hag. It doesn’t feel right when she isn’t smiling or nagging at me.”

He said it under his breath while leaving to one of the smaller islands he had been stationed to, but it still didn’t escape Masrur who shot him a blank look.

“She will be ok.”

“I know.”

——————————————————————————

He could feel how soaked the slashed fabric loosely hanging around him was, the long cut across his upper back stinging without showing signs of not bleeding anymore.

For a moment during all their little battles with the random men, he caught a glimpse of the hag flying over and disappearing with some creepy old geezer following behind. She seemed to have trouble, but she had already been drained from repairing the barrier as much as she could before heading off to her stationed area. He’d see the palace doctors after this if it weren’t for the guards and military that they’d be busy with; he’d rather not ask the magicians for help.

“Sharrkan. Go ahead to see the palace doctors to get bandaged and changed. Do me a favor and check on the magicians of the Black Libra Tower later after dinner and tell them to take a break for the night.”

Sinbad called him prior to the debrief and gave him a quick rundown, well aware that out of their little scuffle that was barely even a war, he was the most severely injured.

He slipped into a poor postured bow, leaving the room before walking off to the infirmary. It felt longer than usual, the blood loss making his mind hazy and slow.

The palace doctor fussed over him instantly, moving him around quickly before he found himself face down flat on one of the beds, various pricking and stings uncomfortably poking at his back.

“Lord Sharrkan, I’ve finished treating the wound.”

The muffled clanking of the tray and the cart rolling away grew quieter, the treatment over quickly. Everything felt like a blur, even more so now that he’d basically been numbed with herbs and whatnot.

The doctor helped Sharrkan to the door before he limped slightly through the halls as if he were tipsy after a few drinks, earning concerned and poorly concealed glances from attendants passing by. When he came to back in his bed from his stupor, his head finally felt clear despite his body moving more sluggishly than it did normally.

The bed was dotted with red, his back uncomfortably moist and sticky.

“Lord Sharrkan, Sinbad alerted me to keep watch until you were awake, it’s about midnight right now. The cooks left food in the kitchens for you.”

“Thank you, I’ll head over to the kitchens then.”

He dismissed the attendant and began the long walk from the tower to the kitchens, the halls dimly lit with a breeze filling the emptiness. The slight cold wafted up the thin robes that were nothing more than a cover to hide his marred skin, chills spreading throughout his body.

There were a few plates of various fruits, grilled meats covered with palm leaves long cold from when they were first cooked. He lit the stove and the meat was reheated quickly, but Sharrkan found two plates that sat in front of him. He bundled the plates in the palm leaves that had covered them before, making his way through the maze of halls that he knew like the back of his hand. The long climb up the stairs to the highest room of the Black Libra tower however, was unfamiliar, he was accustomed to the short walk to the hag’s lab.

“Rai.”

He watched the blue haired magician turn around to the nickname she claimed to hate, eyes bloodshot and disheartened.

“Are you here to bother me? If you are the door is right where you came from.”

“Don’t say that to me. Please.”

Sharrkan stepped through the magic circle, a surge hitting him like he had run into a brick wall. He fell to his knees, feeling the magoi draining from his body.

“Why’d you go into the magic circle! It’ll drain your magoi and you’re already injured!”

“You are too. You’ve been in this tower the moment you could, you haven’t seen the palace doctors, you probably haven’t eaten, and you probably haven’t had anything to drink either.”

He got back up and walked to the middle, pulling at her calloused hands to sit down with him. She stubbornly agreed, leaning into his side as they ate in a comfortable silence.

“Sinbad ordered you to come here didn’t he? There’s no way you would’ve come for me.”

His heart hurt. Not because she was right, but because she didn’t know how much he really loved her. Every time he heard someone talk about how they bickered like a married couple, he could only wish it were true. He liked arguing with her because Yamraiha took him seriously, she didn’t laugh at him or want to use him in any sort of way to make herself feel better.

“I’d come for you even if he didn’t ask.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth filled with various supplies he managed to sneak from the infirmary, setting them down at his side while unfortunately having to pull away from her. She didn’t flinch at all when he cleaned the cuts on her face, closing her eyes as they grew tired together with the night continuing to pass slowly.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Sharrkan set everything back on top of the cloth to put it away, her hand gently pushing his away before pulling the cloth closer to her.

“God you’re really hurt.”

He noticed the small gasp she let out once he turned around and let the robe fall off of his shoulders her warm fingers tracing the edges of the slash. He felt them draw away before feeling her hands on his back with a quiet chant leaving her lips.

“Why would you waste your magoi to heal me? You’re already drained from restoring the barrier so why?”

“You’re wasting yours just by being here and you don’t have as high of a capacity like I do. It hurts you more to be here than for me to heal you.”

He treasured the way her fingers felt on his skin pulling the robe back over his shoulders, little warmth returning to his body. Yamraiha let Sharrkan take her hands and pull her away, out of the tower and away to their quarters, feeling his gaze lingering on her as they split ways.

——————————————————————————

He paced back and forth at the terrace as the boat began to pull into sight, watching as the procession from the boat came closer and closer to the palace. The blue hair he saw was not the blue hair he wanted to see, Hinahoho and Drakon towering over while guarding the person he wanted to see the most. Sharrkan decided to go back to his room, he didn’t have anything to do for the day and if he got caught looking for her he’d never hear the end of it.

Through a telegram he heard that the magic academy’s chancellor was lost to the Rukh, his heart dropping when Sinbad explained that he was her adoptive father. He knew they had some kind of connection, but he never actually figured it out until now. He wanted to see her as soon as he possibly could.

He didn’t actually see her until later that night during the celebration, blue hair glowing underneath the lights strung up all throughout the area. He took another swig out of whatever he had in his mug, slamming it down onto the table while scaring off whoever was still stuck around him. The magician seemed happy earlier when they were talking with Alibaba the slight red tint to her cheeks more apparent than usual along with the slight puffiness of her eyes.

She had been crying.

The alcohol didn’t do much to him this time around, a slight buzz in the back of his mind was all the indication there was to the fact that he drank. It was late by the time Sharrkan washed up and was ready to hit his bed immediately, but his gut told him to stop in front of her door. He heard her turning over and over in discomfort, knocking on the door to get her to answer it. She never came. The noise continued and grew unbearable for him to listen to as he hoped he wouldn’t regret just barging in.

As opposed to her lab, Yamraiha’s bedroom was quite clean and organized, her curtains pulled apart for the light from the moon to shine through the windows. The sheer drapes on her bed weren’t pulled to hide her, making it clear she was perspiring heavily. Her face was stuck in a tight expression, her body near completely tensed and in discomfort.

“Rai? Can you hear me?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, sitting down to hold her hand with no luck, now noticing the tear streaks on her face that was the opposite of her usually smiling face or in his case when they argued, scowling.

“Rai! Wake up!”

“Rai please! Wake up!”

Her eyes shot open to his worried face, too tired to fight him so late into the night.

“What happened?”

She teared up again at the simple questions, hands going up to block her face from his. She couldn’t stand the way he looked at her now.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Then we don’t have to. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but I need you to know that I will always be here to listen, wherever and whenever you need me.”

“Can you stay tonight?”

He chuckled, the laugh she loved breaking her out of her swimming mind and bringing a smile to her face.

“Don’t laugh at me! If you continue then you can leave!”

She turned her back, but felt the clear dip of weight in the bed, Sharrkan already pressing up his torso to her back, wrapping his arms comfortably around her body.

“I would never turn down a night with you.”

Yamraiha wiggled free of his grasp to turn and face him finding an oddly comfortably position that ended with his chest right against hers, the soft sheets twisting around as he pulled the light duvet over them. He let go of her for a moment, bringing his hand up to her face and wiping at the tear marks on her face, ending with a chaste kiss to her forehead. She shied away with her cheeks flushing pink, hiding her face against his nape.

“Thank you. Really, thank you.”

“Of course Rai. Anytime.”

She got more relaxed as time passed, sleepily giving him a kiss right on his lips that had him going pink. He looked down at her figure comfortably curling up against him in his arms, wondering how holding someone could feel like the world was in his hands.

“I love you Rai.”

He said it quietly, knowing the words would fall on deaf ears and that the magician wouldn’t think of the gesture of him being there for her as anything more than a little brother drunkenly helping his sister feel better.

On the other hand, it was a rare occasion for Yamraiha to wake up first, even more so to find herself tangled with Sharrkan in her bed. The sun barely started to show up on the horizon, a warm glow filling the room. She reached out for a tuft of his white hair, his hair silky and fluffy to the touch. She’d never seen him asleep or tired before during the day, he’d always put on a face in the public right until the moment he was behind closed doors. Aside from the rest of his body, the skin on his face was soft and untouched, carefully taken care of without a single scar or wrinkle.

If he was asked what the best feeling in the world was, truly, he would have said waking up to the person he loved the most in his arms. He cherished her hand gently tracing the features of his face as if he were made of porcelain, deciding not to let her know he was awake just yet.

“Good morning Rai, are you feeling better?”

He made a small show of faking his “waking up”, stretching his arms outwards before they went right back to wrap around Yamraiha’s torso, another kiss to her, this time on her cheek. He wouldn’t be the one to tell her about their kiss when she was basically knocked out. He wasn’t going to make her feel uncomfortable either.

“I think so. I don’t want to get up today though.”

“I don’t think you ever like waking up in the morning.”

They laughed together, appreciating how it felt like they were the only ones in the world, the peace and quiet of their island home yet to be filled with the bustling of their citizens beginning their days.

“Let’s go back to sleep Rai, we have nothing on our schedules today.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Not enough for me to stop, besides you like it when I call you Rai.”

“If anyone finds us it’s over for the rest of our lives for sure.”

Her smile made his heart flutter, if there was some kind of magic that could capture the moment her lips turned upwards and her eyes shut in a wholehearted grin, he’d fight tooth and nail to get it; although he would get pestered by her for it.

It wasn’t a surprise to Ja’Far nor Masrur when the pair were found in the kitchens later in the afternoon as Sharrkan stood over the stove while Yamraiha tried to peek over his shoulders to see what he was making; no surprise again, it was her favorite stir fry.

They always looked after the two in their own ways ever since they met, so it wasn’t at all a shock to see that at their next festival, Sharrkan had a silver ring with a blue jewel embedded in it on his left ring finger. They looked to their magician standing seemingly far on the left from him, wearing a matching one with a green jewel instead.

“Ja’Far shall we bet on who proposed that idea?”

“I would rather bet on when.”

“Sharrkan did last night.”

“Wait what?”