In Chains {Sinbad X Reader}

|Part Nine|

|YOU|

Pisti skipped between tables and racks full of linens and materials. It was amazing to me that she could be so excited over such a boring task. Shopping so far, wasn't turning out to be something I enjoyed.

So far I had two paper bags filled with an assortment of shirts, pants and tunics. In my opinion it was more than enough, but Pisti believed otherwise.

"Do you think we could take a break?" I finally asked.

The hot sun was beating down with no remorse. My back was sticky with sweat and I could feel the skin of my shoulders starting to burn.

"Oh, sure!" Pisti agreed. "You and Morgiana can go find somewhere to sit, I'll get us some drinks from one of the vendors!"

I couldn't even speak a reply before the blonde disappeared into the crowd of people.

Morgiana stood next to me, and without saying a word she headed towards a bench that was shaded by a large awning. Hesitantly, I sat next to her. My goal on this little outing was to apologize to her, but I couldn't find the right time. And now that I had the right time, I couldn't find the right words.

Unconsciously, I started wrapping my rope between my fingers.

"You should break that habit, you know? You're going to scar your hands."

I jumped at the sound of Morgiana's voice. She hadn't spoken to me since the night of the feast, and it made my chest warm with relief. If she was willing to talk to me, then maybe she'd be willing to hear what I had to say.

"You're probably right," I said, dropping the rope.

Silence surrounded us again, but this time I forced myself to say what I had been thinking.

"I'm sorry, Morgiana. I know you and Aladdin and Alibaba have done so much for me, and I haven't acted appreciative. I also know that I've been pretty ignorant in my actions towards you. I just—" The words caught in my throat. I so badly wanted to tell her everything. About me, about Sinbad, but right now it all just seemed like an excuse. Like something I'm saying to try and justify my actions.

"You just what?" She asked, looking up at me.

I sighed. "This place has had me on edge since we got here. It has nothing to do with you or the kingdom. Sindria is genuinely the most amazing place I've ever seen! It's almost too good to be true."

"But it's not," Morgiana spoke. "Sinbad is changing the world one small step at a time. His goal is for everywhere to have peace like Sindria. You're away from Balbadd, and I know it's hard to adjust at first, but why can't you just enjoy being free?"

I looked down at my hands. The skin was dry and cracked, bleeding in some places where I had rubbed them raw. The sting and the pain was normal for me now, something I had gotten used to. It was hard for me to share anything about myself with other people. It was a foreign concept to me, but I knew I had to do it, and I knew the person I could trust most was sitting right next to me.

"My mom passed away when I was young. I don't remember her, so as far back as I can remember it was always just me and my dad."

Morgiana looked confused by my subject change, but stayed silent as I explained.

"He had a friend that we would visit from time to time who had a son a couple years older than me. His wife would make us meals when she could, and give my dad advice about how to raise a daughter on his own. Our families grew close, but then the dungeons started appearing and war raged between some of the kingdoms. Both my father and his friend —his name was Badr— were drafted.

I stayed with Badr's wife and son while he was gone. They were the only people in my life other than my dad," I sighed as I remembered the hardest day of my life. Morgiana stayed quiet and didn't push me to continue, which I appreciated.

"A couple years later Badr returned home. He was missing one of his legs and as soon as he got back I attacked him with questions about where my dad was and why he wasn't back, and he had to tell me that he had passed away in the war. It was probably the worst day of my life, and I did nothing but lay in my bed and cry for more days than I can remember," a small laugh escaped my lips. "Then one morning their son came into my room with a mango he had stollen from the market. He knew I loved them, and he knew I was hurting so he got it for me and we carved it up and ate it right there."

Morgiana finally voiced her confusion. "(Y/N), I don't really understand what you're telling me this for." 

"I need to tell someone. It'll make sense in a minute, I promise."

Morgiana nodded and allowed me to finish.

"We lived happily for awhile. Badr and his family became my family, and their son would always surprise me with mangos whenever I was feeling down. However, as you know, life for the poor never stays good for long. Badr ran into some trouble, and to repent for his bad decisions he was drafted back into the war. This time, he didn't return home. It was heartbreaking for all of us. Not to meantion it was already hard to scrape by with Badr supporting us, but with him gone we were really scared we wouldn't make it."

"What did you do?" Morgiana asked.

"His son and I scavenged. Stole what we could, grew what we could, but eventually he decided to take his own path to try and support us in the only way he could really think how." I swallowed hard. This was the part of the story that was really going to reveal the truth about my relationship with Sinbad.

"His mother gave him his father sword, and with it he left to win the dungeon closest to us. I tried begging him not to go, but he was a determined kid back then. He was gone for just over two months, and in that time his mother had become really ill and I started finding money my own way."

Morgiana cringed. There were very few ways for a young woman to earn their keep, and none of them were good.

"I came home from collecting what I could one day, and saw him sitting next to his mom. She had passed away while I was gone, but luckily he was there with her and she didn't die alone. But with both of his parents gone, and with nothing else to hold him back, he left. He always talked about building a place where there was no war and everything was peaceful. I never believed him, and up until a few years ago I didn't even realize he had accomplished exactly what he set out to do."

Morgiana stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes. I could see the cogs turning in her mind as she put together who I was talking about.

"You and Sinbad grew up together?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Kind of. In the grand sceam of things it was a small part of our lives. For me it was the happiest years of my life, because not long after Sinbad left I was sold into the slave trade. For Sinbad, I was just one of many that he's met along the way. I wasn't a significant enough part of his story, which is why he doesn't recognize me or my name."

Before Morgiana could say anything more, Pisti returned with three small cups in hand.

"Sorry I took so long. The line up was unbelievable!"

Morgiana and I both took one of the cups from her and drank them quietly as Pisti rambled on about where we were going to go next.

"I'm sorry, Pisti, but I'm really tired," Morgiana said.

"Oh, that's okay. Do you think the clothes we got will be enough for your stay?"

I laughed lightly. "I've never owned this much clothing in my life! I'm more than grateful for this amount."

Pisti grinned. "Okay! Let's start heading back."

As we began walking, Morgiana gave me a look that said "this conversation isn't over", and as much as I didn't want to talk about it further, I was glad that she and I seemed okay again.

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