Oranges; Sinbad x Reader

The Twenty-Seventh Voyage

"This will be your room, (Y/N). The same as the last time you stayed in Sindria." Ja'far spoke, entering into the guest room that I'd call my own once again. Thanking him for his hospitality, he gave me a kind smile, "There is no need to thank me. Though I am quite shocked that you came back so soon." Bearing shock for a moment, I paused to gaze at the floor longingly.

"I'm honestly not sure why I'm here. My sister threw me on Sinbad's ship, without any explanation and now... we're having this conversation." A moment of stillness. Ja'far's expression was a strange one. It was both blank and vivid. If it wasn't for his blank eyes, I would have known that he was panicking.

"Didn't Sinbad tell you?" Ja'far queried.

"No." I answered, as another moment passed us by.

"Didn't your sister tell you?" He asked again.

"I... just said that she didn't." I answered again, not knowing what else to say. After all, this assassin was acting suspicious and shady.

"Oh," He let out, "Good question." Before I could ask what was going on, he scurried out of the room in a frenzy, leaving me to my own devices. Huffing a little from frustration, I stared back to the where I briefly put my bag of goodies. My bow's horsehair had been on the verge of snapping, so I opted to change it out. Going out to the balcony, I cooed at the flowers that were set out. I sat down on the terrace, before fixing my strings. It took a considerable amount of time. In fact, it ate up the rest of the day.

"There... done!" A giggle escaped to the calming air of Sindria. Placing my violin up on my shoulder, I started to play the Wind Waker fondly. Personally, I was blissfully unaware of the eyes of another watching and listening. Sinbad had come in person to bring me down for an early dinner; however, he was stopped by the serenades of my music. Instead he stood in the doorway, watching from behind. The moment I got done, clapping was heard from behind my figure. Turning to face him, I breathed a sigh of relief, "Um... that song is still rusty on the... violin..."

"Well, I thought you played beautifully." He complimented before I became a flustered mess. Speaking a quick thank you, I then asked what brought him here, "Oh, that. I was just going to invite you to dinner."

"I would accept, but I kind of look like a disaster." I told him, not having changed the entire day. After all, I was still in my blouse and leather pants.

"Nonsense. Even if you were, I wouldn't change my mind on inviting you." Agreeing with him, I left the comforts of the guest room, to follow after him. I would ask him why I was in Sindria again, before he would reply, "You'll find out in due time," as he always did. It was only four of us for dinner. Sinbad, me, Ja'far, and Masrur. And the whole time, I was left wondering what I really was here for.

And a week would pass without me knowing...

Sitting comfortably on one of the couches, I was reading some old history books. Draped over the armrests were old maps, when Parthevia was a great country. Rather, an empire. As I looked from text to map, I lost track of time. Reading some of the documents, I was given more of an idea of Sinbad's life in Tison Village. I had nothing else to do with my time after all. Sinbad had denied me from knowing why I was in Sindria AND denied me any work to do while I waited for his reasoning. In his own words: 'Just relax and enjoy your time in Sindria.'

So here I was, in the library, with a promise to meet with Sinbad later to do nothing in particular, reading about his home and having my own thoughts about governance. To bore a successful country, those of such a place must share universal ideals. However, what happens when the universal ideal is of toxic values? Mob-mentality takes over, and the country and system inevitably fall apart. Balance is needed for a successful country, even more so for a Republic.