Magi Sinbad X Reader (CH 4)

The sea salt scented air hit your nose, and calmed you. The sun was still high in the sky. Its orange yellow radiance illuminating all around you. It must have gave off a pleasant warmth, alas you could only inturpet it’s inviting embrace as burning fire attempting to roast you alive. The clothing you had adorned was more suitable for your country's more cloudy and cool climate rather than the tropical island, Sindria.

People that you viewed seemed to mock you, with their minimal thin fabrics draped across their bodies as they went about their days. Merchants were pushing their overpriced goods onto ignorant tourists, and locals convened at fruit and vegetable stands scattered on the bustling kingdom’s streets. Buckets and barrels of fish were dragged behind a successful fisherman who was done for the day. In the distance you could see the masts of ships all docked at port awaiting new passengers, and for the cargo which they had carried to be unloaded. Sindria was prosperous, beautiful and excitement was in the air. Music from a random minstrel working for coins on the side of the road, drifted up from the town to where you overlooked the everyday life of Sindria. Sinbad’s arm still interlocked with your own made you feel at ease for some reason. You could his muscles constrict beneath his clothing as he pointed out different sections of his city. You watched him beam at his kingdom he had built. You were enchanted by the man that was enthralled in explain each little aspect of the country. Every so often his gaze would return to you ensuring you were paying attention to his words. He had noticed you had a tendency to not disguise you look of boredom and day dream while you were in the meeting. Sinbad would also show you a heart filled  grin while holding the gaze of your eyes for a few seconds at a time.He seemed proud of his country; proud of what he considered family.

You found yourself admiring him. Admiring his care for all his people. This was a pleasant surprise, because you were so accustomed to your country’s royalty’s common distain for the public, looking on them only as a mere source of tax money and manual labor.

It struck you as strange though that his entire persona seemed to change from the seductive charm he had attempted to display earlier. This thought made you wary of the man once again, despite your hearts urning for his gaze, for his touch. Nonchalantly you removed your arm from his, and took a small peace of cloth from you bosom and began to fan yourself. You began to feel feverish, but pushed through to observe Sinbad, to figure him out. Sinbad was taken aback by the sudden removal of your arm.  His approached changed once again.

“May I ask you something, Princess, or should I call you Milady as your magician does?” Sinbad questioned, “I am actually unfamiliar with your countries customs on addressing royalty, forgive me.”

“Call me whatever you want, your majesty,” you huffed, your hand still busily attempting to cool your heated skin, “but please don’t call me Milady, I’m not a real princess you know.”

“Really?” Sinbad asked a bit shocked, as he waited for you to elaborate.

“Yeah, I was adopted by my uncle, well I don’t know, I guess I am princess then,” you gasped. You began to feel random waves of cold that overtook your body giving you goosebumps, but it was only to be replaced with the fever again. You were not used to wearing such a heavy and restrictive dress, even for just a few hours.

“Are you alright?” Sinbad said his arms moved up to catch your falling form, “Hey!”

Beads of sweat then began to form all over your skin. You forehead, neck, and upper-lip soon became spawning grounds for the salty liquid. The heat was near unbearable now. Your breathing quickened as you felt the air around you disappear, and a feeling of dizziness over took you. The images of the happy citizens and tourists began to blur in a swirl of color. You felt Sinbad’s hands grip you strongly, and his muffled voice echoed in your ears. You began to fade away, the swirl of blurry colors transforming into black. The last thing you can recall is your mind’s thoughts wandering, impressed that your female cousins are actually able to endure this type of dress for as long as they do.

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A warm orange-yellow glow of a candle was the first thing you noticed when you woke. The next was that you were on a soft large pillow, or mattress, on the ground of a lavishly decorated room. To the side of you, huge open arched window over looked Sindria which glowed with light and the previous abundance of human movement became a small trickle of drunken men attempting to return home after a night in taverns and brothels. It was dark. Even though it was dark you were able to make out the whips of clouds that covered and then uncovered the sprinkles of stars in the night. The lapping of waves sounded through your room, and the rush of the water reminded you of your motion sickness.

As you propped yourself to an angle, a slightly heated damp cloth fell from its home on your forehead. The heat came from your own person you noted, as you picked it up from your lap and tossed it into a water filled bowl that was to your side. The evil dress that caused you to pass out, looked to be torn and split as it hung over a near by chair.

“What?” you heard your quiet hoarse voice croak. Everything was dry; your tongue felt like sand paper and your throat was sore.

You yourself were wearing essentially nothing but an essentially transparent slip, a gown made of fine silk. You made a face at the garment, its frills and laces opposite to your preferred style of dress. Then you remembered your most prize possession. Your dagger. Frantically you threw your head side to side in search for your small weapon. To your left, opposite side of the open window, your eyes were greeted with an unusual sight.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!” your voice cracked and screeched.

Lying down on the floor next to you was the strapping naked body of King Sinbad. He was a good distance away from you, and every thing was exposed except his manhood, which seemed to be expertly covered by your father’s dagger. His hands loosely griped on the small knife’s handle its silver body encased in its sheath. Your first instinct was to snatch away the medal tool, and bring yourself comfort in having your father’s gift by your side, but you became hesitant and embarrassed by the thought of revealing Sinbad’s manhood. He didn’t stir, even a bit from your sudden out burst, he continued sleeping soundly a soft constant hum of a snore exiting his form. His purple hair was released from its usual band, and cascaded down his muscular body like a violet waterfall. His face looked peaceful, and much younger than when he is awake. Why do people always look younger as the drift off to their dream worlds?

‘This man is so straight forward,’ your mind squealed, and you could feel your face begin to heat up even more than before, ‘what happened? He is sound asleep, and naked. Did we? But I wouldn’t. I need some air’

As you began to move, a cool gust of air rushed through the window. The cold bit your skin through the thin silk fabric that you wore.You looked next to the sleeping body, and found his discarded clothing littered on the floor. They would have to do. You stealthily maneuvered yourself to the side of the sleeping man, his large chest raising and falling rhythmically with the sounds of the crashing waves. You gathered the random assortment of Sinbad’s clothing in your arms, quickly moving away from the sleeping king to another corner of the room. His garments were confusing. You sorted through the cloth, tossing away the undergarments over your shoulder in the direction of the man. You slipped on the clothing once you figured out the different components of the outfit.

It was big on you, and you constantly had to pick up the baggy fabric to keep it in place on your body. The purple cloth with gold trim that covered your torso had the most extra room when on your form. As you inhaled you smelt the musk of the king of the seven seas, and it sent you senses into a form of minor ecstasy. You brought the tunic closer to your nose to get a better read on the scent. You inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet smells of his sweat and other aromas. A small quite smile began to  sneak its way to your lips,but was cut off as a sudden deep yawn came from behind you.

Panic became the most prominent emotion you felt, worried that Sinbad would view you in such a weak moment in your history. You lightly hit your self on the head, cursing yourself for acting so foolishly.

“Only love drunken fools do this type of thing, stop it you are not a fool!” you angrily growled at yourself, ashamed at, what you considered to be, creepy actions, “What am I a she-wolf?”

You shook your head at your previous actions, and in answer to your own questions. You became focused again on your mission to get some relief from this strange atmosphere you had found yourself in.

Barefoot, and adeptly you tiptoed to the only door of this bedchamber. Sinbad’s violet harlem pants barely kept from being swallowed underneath the heel of your foot as you expertly avoided the sparse population of guards that roamed the palace at this time of night. You had no idea where you were trying to go, but you did not feel like having people’s judgmental eyes scan your body to see it was only covered by their King’s usually garb.

‘Rumors are spread faster than a sickness, and are sometime just as devastating,’  you thought as you recalled the venomous and jealous glares from your female cousins before you embarked on your journey to Sindria, ‘those girls can be really scary when they want to be.’

You had many cousins, your uncle was surrounded by concubines and had many different wives in his long life. The age group ranged from late-20s to the youngest being 9 years. So many half born brothers and sisters, all arguing with one another for different privileges. This is what confused you when he ordered YOU to be the one to go to Sindria, even if it was a simple mission. He had plenty of daughters to wed off to different lands, or give away as wards to over ruling countries in a sign of good faith, but he for some reason picked you.

You could remember his girls all despising you once you were chosen to visit Sindria.

“No fair,” one said snobbishly, “I want to go to Sindria.”

“Yeah how come she gets to see King Sinbad! I hear the most lovely things about him,” Another spoke in agreement with her half sister.

“I wish I could marry him, all of the stories of him make him out to be so dreamy,” the youngest girl sang airily.

The amount of grumbling you had heard from those girls was enough to last you a life time, and for the few days you spent preparing to leave they would give you looks a monster would be terrified of. None of this mattered at the moment however. Figuring out your uncle’s plans would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

“Damn I really need to learn how to focus more, “ you mumbled to yourself as you realized you little flash back distracted you from seeing where you were going. You had been moving on autopilot, and you were now in apart of the palace you had never seen before. Large white pillars sprouted from the ground supporting a large structure that was designed to give the smooth patio, which you stood, shade while the sun was scorching hot. You noticed a few swords placed here and there, as if this was a place for training even though it looked regal. Sinbad’s white overdress began to slip off your shoulder, so you took a moment to re-adjust the fabric back into place. A hardy drunken laugh distracted you from your task, causing you to retreat to the shadows of the pillars.

“What a night!” the voice bellow, and a slim figure came into your view. His shaggy silver hair was a bit out of place, and you could make out markings on his neck and face that were in the shape of lips. The gold chains around his neck contrasted brilliantly with his dark tanned skin. He had a stupid grin on his face, and his arm around an awkward blonde haired boy that stubbled to keep up.

“Master why did we have to do that?” the blonde haired boy questioned the slightly older male.

“What did I say about calling me master!?” he barked his face twisted from joy to anger, then back to joy, “Come on, you never go drinking with me!”

The blonde haired boy looked to be beaten and worn out. His face covered in smudged lipstick and his clothing was out of place.

Slightly behind the pair, was a bounding child with blue hair peaking out from underneath a perfectly placed turban. His musical instrument bouncing off his chest as he skipped in bliss. A light childish laugh escaped his lips as he watched his two companions.

You held your breath as they approached your hiding spot. You felt like running, but fought the feeling and keep still. The cloth was begging to slip again, more than before, exposing your shoulder. They were directly in-front of you, and you prayed they would pass on by you. It was as if they were walking in slow motion, their foot steps heavy on the pavement below you. It was agonizing waiting for them to pass you. The small blue haired boy’s face turned to your direction. Had you made a noise? You felt your lunges burning, pleading for air, as you continued to hold your breath.

“Aladdin!” called the blonde, “Hurry up will ya? It’s late ya know?”

“Coming Alibaba!” and with that his attention was no longer in your direction but on his friends.

You watched the child catch up with his comrades, feeling relief of them passing you released your hold on your breath. The cool night’s air filled your lungs, and gave your relief.

“Sharrkan! Alibaba, Aladdin welcome back,” a familiar voice sounding, a hearty laugh accompanying it, “I seem to have miss placed my clothes.”

Sinbad was awake, and he continued to use your dagger to cover his naughty bits.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered to yourself, “I purposefully left him his underwear, why does he have to keep the only thing I have left of my father covering that region!?”

It would have to be dealt with later. You watched the scene unfolding in front of you, and decided once an opportunity showed itself a new hiding place would be best if you wished to remain undetected.

“We keep meeting like this huh?” the blue haired magi cheered, “You just seem to not like clothes very much!”

“What the hell happened to you?” Sharrkan laughed, “Did you get lucky?”

Alibaba looked awkwardly up at his master, who's arm was still slung around his shoulders.

“Well, I was watching over the Princess of Ruusu,” he sheepishly began, raising one hand to scratch behind his head, “I must have dozed off and taken all my clothes off in the process. My guess is she freaked out and ran off, or something, but now I don’t know where my clothes are.”

You felt like you had to move. Why did you take the clothes in the first place? You could have just put on the dress that you had worn previously, even though you despised it. You slowly made your way around the pillar which casted the shadow that you hid. Once you felt decent enough out of their sight you began to move.

“I know where your clothes are!” Aladdin cheered, “That strange person over there in the shadows has them.”

‘He saw me!?’ your mind screamed, you could still hear them even though you were crouched down in a new hiding place.

“Strange person?” Sinbad repeated slowly.

“Yeah by that pillar,” the blue haired child responded.

A feeling of relief waved over you. He didn’t see you change hiding spots, but he had seen you before. At least he couldn't tell who you were.

“She was just there I swear!”

Never mind, he could tell who yo were, or at least you were a girl.

“How did you know it was a girl?” the voice of the blonde haired boy questioned.

“I always know when there are boobs around!” Aladdin responded mischievously.

“I wonder if its the princess,” Sharrkan added.

“It very well may be,” Sinbad responded, “ Her magician escort explained to me that she typically prefers to dress in men’s clothing to conceal her identity as she travels to different places.”

THWACK! The pounding pain on the top of your head echoed. Your eyes slowly looked up to find an enraged Virgil towering over your squatting position, his staff in hand ready to strike again if needed. The anger was mixed with worry you realized. A look you were all to familiar with, the same look your father had once given you.  The group of men and boy’s attention was directed to you and Virgil. Virgil had gripped you by the left ear lifting you up so you were no longer in your hiding place. Sinbad’s shirt was slipping off of your right side, exposing your shoulder, and a good amount of cleavage. His powerful grip lifted you on to your toes, and the violet harlem pants, saved down slightly below your hips.

“Why must you behave like such a child!?” Virgil scolded, “Do you know how long I have been looking for you ever sense King Sinbad informed me on your disappearance!”

You noticed that Sinbad was now closer to you, and you began to blush uncontrollably. Virgil released his grip from your ear and began to apologize to Sinbad on your behalf, blaming it on heat stroke or something, you had stopped paying attention to the meaningless words of your companion.  You felt a strange confedence raise in you, and you looked the on looking group, daring them to question your actions.

“I took these clothes on purpose!” you said stubbornly, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“But why would you take Sinbad’s clothes?” the white haired one inquired awkwardly.

“I don’t know, they were there, and I didn’t expect him to wake up until I went back,” you said quietly. The feelings of embarrassment were winning. Then you stubbornly grumbled, after a prodding nudge from Virgil, “I am truly sorry, your majesty, please forgive my actions I must have been under the influence of heat exhaustion.”

“Please, just call me Sinbad, or Sin, if you like,” he said with a wink, then he raised the dagger from his form in an offering to you, “besides you look better in those clothes than I ever could.”

You heard a shocked gasp from Virgil, and you face began to heat up even more.

“YA!” Aladdin screamed breaking the awkward silence as he slammed his face into your breast, his childish giggling being the only sounds that were made.