Not Just a Shoulder to Lean On

The ending! The song here is called, "Jupiter," and it is also both written and sung by Jewel. :-)

"…and you got that scar on your shoulder blade when you fell out of the tree behind my house. I remember quite well how it happened." Deanna was in her element, talking away with a rapt audience hanging on her every word. All the crew wanted to know what Bryn had been like as a child, and they listened attentively to her aunt's stories. Sinbad smiled. Bryn had been as he'd imagined her as a child. She'd been mischievous, but an obedient child nonetheless. Deanna swore she'd never seen a happier little girl, or one who smiled more than Bryn had. Bryn blushed furiously when her aunt disclosed the fact that Bryn had loved to sing as a youngster, and she was forever making up little songs and singing them until she drove Deanna and everyone else within hearing distance up the wall.

"But you were such a beautiful little thing, no one ever got mad at you," she laughed. "You had everyone in the village wrapped around your little finger. And whenever I tried to punish you for something naughty you'd done, no one would let me! I still don't understand why you didn't grow up spoiled rotten!" The crew of the Nomad roared with laughter, Bryn blushing beet red.

Though Sinbad enjoyed learning about who Bryn had been, he felt he needed some space, and time to think about all that had happened. So eventually he excused himself and went below deck, pacing around in the galley for a little while. He found himself outside the door to Bryn's cabin and without really knowing why, he pushed open the door and entered. He felt calmed just by being in there, as if the room had somehow held onto Bryn's presence and she was near him. He sighed and sat down on her bed, rubbing his face for a moment. So much had happened in such a short time, and he wasn't sure if he liked it all. Deanna's arrival couldn't have come at a worse time—he had just realized his feelings for Bryn, and he didn't even have a chance to tell her. Now she had the thing she'd wanted more than anything in the world…her past. And Sinbad felt a cold, icy fear deep down inside his soul that Bryn would choose to leave with her aunt instead of staying with them on the Nomad. Now that she had a real home, and family, would she want to stay? Sinbad knew he didn't want her to leave, but he didn't know how she felt. His biggest fear was that she didn't feel the way he did, that he had missed his chance to tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her near. Would she leave with Deanna, never knowing how he felt?

All these thoughts raced around in Sinbad's mind, while fear and love waged a mighty battle within his soul. Once again he might be losing someone he cared about, but this time it would be so much worse because he truly loved Bryn. She was his other half, and she owned his heart. Aye, you love her, Sinbad thought to himself, but do you love her enough to let her go? And Sinbad knew that the answer was yes. He would never hold Bryn against her will; if she truly wished to leave the Nomad, he would not stand in her way. He would support her through and through, though it crushed his heart to do so.

A bit of white caught Sinbad's eye as he sat there, and he frowned, narrowing his eyes as he looked at it. He lifted a thick book off Bryn's desk and pulled a piece of parchment out from underneath it. The paper was what he'd seen: its whiteness contrasted with the darkness inside the room. Intrigued, he hastily lit a candle and set the paper down, reading what Bryn had written in her delicate, spidery script. His world came to a crashing halt as he read the first line.

"Please, love, let's make no impartial vow…" Sinbad's heart stopped beating, then began again, speeding up as he read through the entire parchment. "Bryn…" he whispered. He couldn't believe what he'd just read. Bryn's words had mirrored his thoughts almost exactly! He could never write things down the way she had; he had a hard enough time saying what he meant without trying to convert it to poetry. Hope flared in his heart that she could possibly love him…

"Sinbad?" The voice was surprised, but not angry. Sinbad didn't even think to hide what he'd been doing.

"Bryn," he said, walking over to her. She stood in the doorway, her expression one of confusion. Sinbad slowly pulled her farther inside and shut the door behind her. He held up the paper, and in the dim light he saw her surprise. "Bryn, you read my thoughts," he whispered, smiling faintly, "or, rather, my heart."

"You read that?" Bryn asked. She retrieved the paper from his hand, awkwardness flaring up for the first time in their relationship.

Sinbad nodded. Bryn flushed and cast her eyes down, wishing she could retreat. She had never meant for Sinbad to see that…! He put a cool hand under her chin and lifted so she had to look him in the eyes. "It was beautiful, Bryn," he whispered. "I'm sorry; I realize I shouldn't have been in here, but I was so afraid…"

"Afraid?" Bryn asked, surprise lighting her eyes once again. "Of what?"

Now it was Sinbad's turn to feel foolish and turn away. "That you would decide to leave with Deanna now that you know about your past and you have a family. I don't know how I would get through the day if you ever left, Bryn…"

Bryn laughed, a light, breathy sound. "Sinbad!" she said, "I've always had a family." She touched his face, running her fingers lightly down his cheek. "Here, on the Nomad. With you. I'd never leave unless you wanted me to. I love it here, and I'm happy with my life. I don't want to leave."

Sinbad met Bryn's eyes, and as he did he saw the most beautiful sight in the world. Her warm brown eyes were brimming with light and love…for him. He stepped closer and slipped his arms around her waist, feeling her warm presence against him. "I don't want you to leave," he replied. "Bryn, I love you." He was more than rewarded by the surprised joy that welled up in her beautiful, beautiful eyes, and by her soft,

"I love you back." Sinbad didn't know what else to say: those three words seemed to say it all. So he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, just a soft touch, and felt her smile against him. He deepened the kiss, moving closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she responded to him. Endless moments passed with neither of them realizing that anything existed besides the two of them. They were lost in a world of their own, and time stopped completely as the kiss continued. When they finally broke away, Sinbad moved in again and kissed her eyelids gently. She opened her eyes as he straightened once more, and he saw her beautiful smile light up her face. He couldn't help but smile back.

Sinbad reached down and took the paper from Bryn's hand again, reading over the words. "This is really good, Bryn," he said. Then, because he couldn't resist teasing her, "I guess you got plenty of practice writing songs as a kid, huh?"

"Ooh!" Bryn said, trying to sound mad. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him for a moment, but then Sinbad slipped his arms around her again and lifted her clear off her feet, cradling her against him. She laughed dizzily as he swung her around, feeling happier than she could ever remember.

"But seriously, Bryn," he said earnestly, "this is wonderful. I don't think I could ever write like that." He paused. "Would you write another one if I asked very nicely?"

Bryn laughed. "I don't see why you'd want it," she said, "but I will if you insist."

Sinbad smiled. "Good." He leaned in for another kiss, and for a long time neither of them said any more.

The next day, Deanna said her goodbyes and prepared to leave. "I left the village in the middle of a plague," she said. "I'd best be getting back—they got infected through their water source somehow, and I'd like to try the remedies Firouz has recommended to me." She smiled her thanks to the inventor, who grinned with pride.

"Anything I can do to help," he said. Deanna turned to Bryn.

"You're sure you won't come with me?" she asked. "I'm so sorry about the trouble I've caused…"

"I know," Bryn said, stepping forward to hug her aunt. "But I'm needed here." She glanced back at Sinbad, who smiled broadly. "I'll always remember you," she said, "but this is my home now."

Deanna nodded, glancing wisely from her niece to Sinbad and back again. "Bless you, child. You have so much light—use it well."

"I will," Bryn promised, and Sinbad came up beside her. She gripped his fingers and he squeezed back.

"Save journey," he wished Deanna, and she nodded solemnly to him.

"If you are ever close to our village, don't hesitate to visit," she told them. "You will be most graciously received."

They nodded and stepped back as Deanna summoned her magic and misted away. Bryn gave a soft sigh, so light that only Sinbad could hear, and he kissed the side of her head gently. "You have your past back, Bryn," he told her.

"Sort of," she replied. "I don't remember any more than I did before. Still, it's nice to know that she's there." She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "And I learned something important from all this."

"What's that?"

"I've been searching for something ever since meeting you, Sinbad. I thought it was my past, but Deanna helped me realize that it wasn't. It was important that I find my past, because it has helped make me a whole person. But the thing I was searching for was you, Sinbad."

The Nomad lurched suddenly as the leftover magic from Deanna's transportation spell dissipated, and Bryn stumbled. She caught at Sinbad's shoulder for balance, and he chuckled slightly as he steadied her with his arms. "Yeah, Bryn," he said. "I'll be your shoulder to lean on."

"No, Sinbad, you are more than that, much more." She smiled and gazed deep into the depths of his beautiful sea-blue eyes. "You are not just a shoulder to lean on."

Sinbad reached out and stroked her face gently. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice quiet. Her eyes lit with surprise, but she laughed gently.

"Maybe someday," she said, kissing him lightly. "Right now I want to get used to things being as they are."

"I can live with that," Sinbad agreed, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. They faced the sea before them, and Sinbad kissed the top of her head, burying his face in her silky hair. "Have you written that song yet?"

Bryn turned her head toward him, nuzzling his neck gently. "Yeah."

"Well?" Sinbad tugged gently on a strand of her hair, wrapping it around his finger and watching it shine in the sunlight. "Where is it?"

Bryn reached into her belt pouch and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. "It's really short," she said, stepping away from him and trying to hand the paper to him. He refused to take it.

"No," he said, smiling. "Sing for me."

Bryn's eyes grew round, and she started to shake her head. Sinbad sat down, leaning against the railing, and pulled her to sit beside him. "No one else is up here," he said. "Please, I want to hear you. Sing for me."

Bryn rolled her eyes in good-natured irritation and squinted at him. "Will you sing for me?" she asked.

"I will if you insist," he said, "but I warn you, it's not pretty."

Bryn laughed and unfolded her parchment. She began to sing, the clear tones of her voice rolling over the ocean and the words she had written bringing a smile to Sinbad's lips.

Bryn finished softly, nearly whispering the last words. She glanced over at Sinbad, and she saw the smile on his face. "Beautiful," he whispered, and she smiled. "How do you do it?"

Bryn shrugged, snuggling close to his warmth. "I merely say what's in my heart, Sinbad."

Dinner that night was a happy occasion, and all the sailors were jovial and at ease. Sinbad sat next to Bryn, and he refused to let go of her hand long enough to eat, so he was forced to use his left hand to eat dinner. Doubar guffawed loudly at this, but Sinbad paid his big brother no mind. He didn't care anymore; now that he knew Bryn loved him nothing else seemed to matter. She was everything he'd dreamed his true love would be, and more. She adored the sea just as much as he did, and she was his best friend, his confessor, and his love. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the morning and she was in his dreams all night. She felt right in his arms, as if their bodies were specially made, one for the other. They were perfect for each other.

Bryn came down from her watch later that night to find Sinbad sitting up in the galley. Firouz was up on watch, and everyone else slept.

"Hey," she said softly. "What're you doing up?"

"Waiting for you." Sinbad crossed to her and took her into his arms, gazing into the sweet brown sunshine of her eyes. He swore he could get lost in their clear brown depths, and he smiled at the thought.

"What for?" Bryn asked, teasing. Sinbad smiled and dipped his head, kissing her fully.

"Any other questions?" he asked, nibbling gently at her skin. She laughed lowly, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her hands in his dark hair. Sinbad gathered her closer and lifted her easily into his arms. "You have such a strong will," he teased, "sometimes it's hard to remember you're such a little thing."

"Was that a judgment, Captain?" she asked.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," he said, kissing her gently.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, not letting him off the hook so easily. "Why not?"

"Because then you wouldn't be Bryn," he said easily, carrying her into her room and laying her gently on her bed. He kissed her deeply, and she pulled him down to her. He shifted and moved on to the bed beside her, then straddled her waist without breaking the kiss. "Bryn?" he asked when he finally moved his mouth off hers, "Will you marry me?"

Bryn laughed again, and Sinbad sucked in his breath as the laugh shook her body beneath him. "Still maybe someday, Sinbad," she answered, " and only if you're very, very good. But you're welcome to try and make it sooner."

He smiled and moved to kiss her again, but before he did he whispered softly into her ear. "What if I'm very, very bad?" he asked, grinning devilishly.

Bryn's eyes held love and laughter. "Ready and waiting, Sinbad," she answered before reaching up to kiss him. "I told you that you weren't just a shoulder to lean on!"

"I believe you," he whispered against her skin.

The last thing Bryn heard before sinking into a blissful haze of emotion was the sound of Sinbad's husky voice whispering the last line of her song. "You make me so crazy, baby…could swallow the moon…swallow the moon...swallow the moon..."

What do you think? :-)