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“Ja’far.”
“Hmm?”
A cool night breeze wafts in through the open window. There is no need for screens nor glass; the island birds are intelligent, much like the crows of his childhood, and have learned to not come in through the open windows. As such, nothing obscures the former assassin’s gaze as he stares out, the moon shining softly on the white bricked buildings of Sindria.
“Ja’far.”
“I’m listening, Sin.”
His king’s breath is warm on the back of his neck, his chest pressed against Ja’far’s pale and freckled back, an arm encircling his bare waist. He likes nights like these, when he can forget – only for a while – the cares and duties that lie on his slim shoulders. There are many, particularly with an unruly king like his.
“Ja’far, remember what you said earlier about me needing to get married?”
His gaze drops to the tile floor, lips pressing together into a thin line. “Of all the times to bring that up, do you think just after sex with your lover is the best?”
He feels more than hears Sin’s responding laugh, the vibrations in his chest passing through to Ja’far’s shoulders. Sin is warm, warmer than he has any right to be, and that’s what keeps him here when he might otherwise scowl and leave.
“Of course it is. I’ve decided I want to marry you.”
Ice fills the advisor’s veins as the words process. He hadn’t thought Sin was slurring, but maybe he’d missed it. Or perhaps Sin wanted a round two, and this is the way he decided to go about it. He pulled away, not looking back to see the king’s surprised face, and hurriedly pulled on his under robe.
“Ja’far, what are you doing?”
“You’re obviously drunker than I thought. Good night, my king.”
Sinbad flinched at the formal method of address, watching in shock as Ja’far quickly picked up the rest of his clothes and fled through the door that led to his study. It took him a moment to follow, head still spinning with his dismay, post-sex haze, and yes, a bit of wine. It could only have been a couple minutes, but it was enough time for the ex-assassin to bolt the door that linked their studies.
He could easily have walked around to his advisor’s main door, of course, or even ordered Ja’far to unlock the one he stood in front of. But the locks on the door (one locking from his side, one from Ja’far’s) had been placed the way they were for a reason, and he had never seen it necessary in all the years they lived in Purple Leo to break that trust. Instead, he tried one last entreat, leaning against the wood for support.
“What’s the matter? I was being serious. I really was.”
“Good night, my king,” was the only response. Sin backed away with a sigh, returning to his bedroom.
Meanwhile, Ja’far sat on the other side of the door, shivering in his thin under robe against the cool tiles, eyes wide as he stared down at the fabric bunched on his lap. He knew Sinbad had been serious.
That’s what scared him.
--
The next day proceeded like most others; the glaring difference being that the two white-haired generals had switched places. Sharrkan took a place by the king’s shoulder as he met with various lower ministers, while Ja’far joined Hinahoho on an overview of the larger trading syndicates in the capital, to ensure everything was running as planned. When questioned, Ja’far simply insisted he knew more about commerce than the general from Heliohapt, having been a merchant with Sinbad in their youth.
It did not, of course, keep Sharrkan and Yamraiha from passing the time trying to conjecture what would have caused the switch. Through Yamraiha’s care, they kept most of it from Sinbad, waiting until he left the room for some cause or another to put their heads together.
“Lover’s spat, huh?” The words left Sharrkan’s lips almost before the door fully shut, raising slim eyebrows as he met the magician’s gaze. She frowned, looking unsure.
“Ja’far would never let something like that get in the way of his work, you know that. He’s more professional than that, even if Sinbad isn’t.”
The fact that the two are lovers was simply an assumed fact. They were the worst kept secret in Purple Leo tower, although it hadn’t spread much beyond. The only one of the generals to be unfortunate enough to interrupt them was Masrur, and while he never confirmed the encounter, he also never denied it, which was proof enough for the remaining six.
“Unless it was something major. You know how much of an idiot Sinbad can be, maybe he said something really bad this time!”
“It’s been fifteen years, I think Ja’far would have left by now if he was offended by something the king ever said. After all, he’s already yelled at Sin - ”
“Yelled at me for what?”
Both generals froze, Sharrkan grimacing while Yamraiha blushed faintly. Sinbad watched them with a smile, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. Normally he would be laughing along with them – the fact that he wasn’t made them realize the gravity of the situation.
“Nothing, my king,” Yamraiha finally managed, looking away. Sharrkan grinned, looking a bit forced.
“Say, your highness, isn’t it time for lunch? I’m sure you have a lunch meeting with someone, without us. Minister of finance, maybe? Hinahoho and Ja’far might be done - ” He was cut off with an elbow to his ribs as Sinbad frowned. Yamraiha grabbed his arm, similarly forced smile on her face.
“I think Sharrkan’s right, you’d better not be late! We’ll return to our own pursuits. Isn’t that right?” Her sentence was punctuated by nails digging in to the other general’s arm and a quiet yelp from him, before both bowed and scampered off. The king sighed, rubbing his temples and sitting back behind his desk, composing his thoughts.
So what if Ja’far was there? He was Sinbad’s right hand man, and knew far more about the details of the country’s finances than he did. Did they really have so little faith in him to think he’d be distracted by his personal life when the country was at risk? Hadn’t they gone over this already, when they’d thought he’d bedded the princess of the Kou Empire? That was far more frustrating than any disagreement with Ja’far could ever be, to think that those he trusted most trusted him not at all.
Well, that was unfair. In battle, they followed him unquestioningly. Yet in running his country – his dream, his family, his people – they seemed to think he was only a flighty man who couldn’t keep his mind on affairs of state. And while this was sometimes the case, it truly wasn’t the majority. How could one not love the country they themselves founded, not want to hold it close and protect it? It wasn’t that there was nothing on his mind, but instead, that there was too much.
Which didn’t at all solve the problem of what would happen if Ja’far was avoiding him. He doubted the younger man would do so, but he also knew his general’s quickness to anger. If he had offended him beyond anything he’d done before… well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it. With another sigh, he rose, heading for the hall where he was meant to meet with the minister.
--
The overview took longer than usual. Hinahoho knew the younger general liked numbers and paid almost unnerving amounts of attention to detail, but when it got to the point where a warehouse owner nervously asked if there was anything wrong, enough was enough. He waited until Ja’far had lifted his stylus to speak. “Ja’far.”
The smaller man was pulled out of his concentration instantly, looking up to fix Hinahoho with a curious look. “Yes? Is something wrong?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. You’ve taken almost three times as long on that list than any of the others.”
Ja’far turned pink, pursing his lips as Hinahoho smiled. “It’s a complicated list. You know as well as I do that this is one of the larger companies.”
“Is that why you’ve been reading the same line over and over, then?” Ah. He’d hoped the older man hadn’t noticed that. “Come on, hand it back to this poor man and let’s be on our way.”
Ja’far apologized to the now sweating owner, handing back the paper and assuring him that yes, everything was in order, and no, he wasn’t in trouble. He could hardly admit to purposefully dragging his feet, loathing the idea of lunch with Sin and the minister of finance where he would have to pretend like last night’s conversation hadn’t happened. He was a master of concealing his emotions, even where the king was involved, but this one threatened to break his façade.
They left the warehouse, Ja’far tilting his chin down as much as he could allow without completely obscuring his vision and hearing. Old habits die hard; once an assassin, always an assassin, and he remained wary of his surroundings to this day. Which is why it only partially surprised him when his Imuchakk companion placed a hand on his shoulder – he knew it was coming, he just didn’t know why.
“You don’t have to have lunch with Sinbad. He isn’t expecting you there.”
Oh. That was why. Ja’far frowned, shrugging Hinahoho’s hand away. “I have to do my job. If that includes lunch with Sinbad, so be it.” He tried, mostly failing, to keep the anger out of his voice. The man liked to think he did well, considering the coarse language of his childhood. His blue-haired companion seemed to think the same, as he didn’t comment on it.
“Your job says to take him the report, not when,” was the mild response. The large man straightened, still smiling. “I would think you would prefer to do it when there are less witnesses, should your temper get the better of you.” The again was silent, but they both knew it was there. While many things had changed from the days when they first traveled the world at Sinbad’s side, Ja’far’s infamous temper remained a constant.
“Perhaps you’re right.” He’d always had a hard time saying thank you, but then, by now it rarely needed to be said to make him understood. Such were the perks of knowing someone for over half your life.
“Come on,” the Imuchakk warrior repeated cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder – this time more for camaraderie than comfort. “You should eat while you can. No doubt paperwork awaits when we get back. My treat.” Ja’far let Hinahoho steer him towards a street vendor, trying to look exasperated instead of appreciative and not quite succeeding.
--
It wasn’t quite that Sinbad was expecting him at the lunch, but he also couldn’t say that he was disappointed when his top general did not appear. The meal went smoothly regardless; idle chatter was made and the talks of business were amiable and assured him that all was going well. When he dismissed the woman, it was with a smile. He returned to his office, once again reclining in the large chair and turning to look out the window, pointedly ignoring the pile of paperwork on his desk. If it was truly urgent, Ja’far would be in soon enough to harangue him, as he’d done for over a decade.
In his head, he turned over the possible reasons the younger man had fled his bedroom that night. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up alone, but Ja’far usually stayed the night, at least staying until Sinbad fell asleep. Obviously something he’d done had upset his lover, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. He’d meant every word – had thought about it for a long while before coming to the decision, too. Yet somehow, the mere mention of it had his general out the door.
The door opened quietly, footsteps falling lightly on the carpeted office floor. He didn’t bother turning. Only one person walked so softly, and that was only for the king’s sake, to avoid startling him. (Sometimes, Ja’far didn’t pay him the courtesy, if he was ornery or Sinbad was being a nuisance.) Sinbad raised a hand, waving slightly to the figure at the door. “Lock it behind you?”
“Sin.” The younger’s man tone was one of warning.
“Not for that.” Sin couldn’t help but smile as he turned to face Ja’far, who looked distinctly unimpressed and disbelieving. “Honest. We need to talk.” Slowly the younger man stepped further into the room, closing the door behind himself. After a moment’s hesitation, he locked the door as well, as his king had asked. “Have you thought about my proposition?”
Ja’far scowled, forcing himself to meet Sinbad’s eyes. Perhaps if he bristled, Sin would let it go. Such tactics had worked before. “I’ve been around you long enough to ignore your drunken ramblings.”
Unfortunately for him, Sinbad had an equal amount of experience of dealing with his anger, and was unfazed. “We both know I wasn’t drunk.” Ja’far seemed to deflate slightly, as if the king had just confirmed his fears. “Why do you keep insisting I was?”
“Because you can’t be serious. Wanting to marry me?”
“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We’re both men, Sin!” Ja’far threw the few papers he held on his desk, face darkening. “It isn’t done! Being lovers is nice and all, but you’ll be expected to find a girl and settle down eventually.”
“Who says it isn’t done?” Sinbad’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms atop his desk. “There’s no state religion in Sindria. It’s my country, and I’m damn certain I didn’t make any laws against it.”
“Everyone says!” came the exasperated response. Ja’far began to pace. “Your kingdom is a monarchy, you’ll need a line of succession. I know anatomy was never your strong suit, but we can’t have children together.”
Sin waved a hand, unconcerned. “Simple, we’ll adopt Alibaba. No, look.” The last phrase was in response to the expression of loathing directed at him by his general. “I’m not making fun. He’s supposed to become a king, yes? What better position to be in than to have him under me as my heir? Then we get Aladdin as well, and he’s already been trained in princely duties.”
“You’re a complete idiot, Sin.” Ja’far turned his back, heading for the door. He wouldn’t listen to any more of this farce. Sinbad hurried to his feet, quickly moving over to the smaller man and pressing his chest to Ja’far’s back, grabbing his wrist and holding him fast.
“Alright, alright, we won’t adopt Alibaba. I was trying to make you smile. If you’re so concerned, though, we can adopt a child. It’s not like it’s never been done.”
“It’s never been done.”
“Then we’ll be the first. This country is a world of firsts, isn’t it? Why not this as well?”
It was harder to protest when Sinbad was pressed up against him like that, warm breath tickling his ear. Still, he wouldn’t be swayed so easily. He still had a little fight left in him. “Your people will only go so far for you. They’ll say I’ve only gotten where I am because you love me. They’ll turn on you.”
“They’ve never once turned on me for sleeping with a dozen women in a week. They’ve seen you in action with the other generals; only fools would suggest you’re not worth your weight in gold.” He paused to chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m fairly certain there are people who think you ought to be king instead of me.”
Ja’far opened his mouth to protest, but was surprised by a tanned hand covering his mouth. “If you don’t want to marry me, just say so.” Sinbad pulled back, gold eyes earnest as he turned the slighter man around and gazed down at him. “Say the word, and I’ll never bring it up again. But no more excuses. Just tell me what you want.”
A deafening silence came over the room as Sinbad dropped his hand, waiting for Ja’far’s answer with bated breath. He’d looked down, not meeting the older man’s eyes. This was his best friend, his king, his lover. He’d follow him anywhere – the idea of being without him made him feel like he was falling off a precipice. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before looking up again. “No more girls. If you’re going to marry me, there’s no need for you to bed other people.”
Sinbad laughed, gathering the younger man into his arms and kissing him soundly. “Of course. Anything you want.”
Perhaps marriage wouldn’t be so bad, after all.