I've been a lurker here for a while, but also a devoted Sinbad/Bryn fan. I've written my first fan fic and decided to post it here, though it's short, and not finished, I'm not sure it ever will be. It also didn't exactly turn out how I had planned it...*shrugs* I hope it's not completely trash worthy.
Anyways, please let me know what you think...and I'm also in need of a title (I seriously stink in that field).
Thanks
~Argenta~
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters so don't sue me, and the complete lack of a plot can be blamed on my seemingly always absent muse.
Bryn turned her face to the warm sun and smiled. It had been weeks since she last stepped on solid ground, and the earth felt good beneath her feet. She remembered the looks of her fellow crewmates as they had come ashore. It had been evident that they shared her happiness as well. All were overjoyed to finally get a little vacation time.
As soon as the longboats had been secured on the beach, the men all but ran towards the village, seeking some good ale and a warm meal. Bryn laughed to herself as she remembered the silly grin that had been plastered on Doubar's face when he beheld the large tavern. Someone was going to have a massive hangover in the morning.
Personally, she wasn't one who took to liking ale all that much; she much preferred having a clear head. Made life all the more enjoyable. So she had decided to browse through the market place alone.
As she walked down the busy streets, she heard merchants yelling out their bargains, and practically shoving their goods in her face. But Bryn merely smiled, and declined politely. She was not in the mood for shopping, but rather liked seeing the merriment of these people, as she had seen far too much sorrow in the past months.
A small frown made its way onto her delicate face, as she thought about one man in particular. She sat down on a patch of grass, some distance away from the hustle and bustle of the market place and turned her thoughts towards Sinbad.
He was a bit of an enigma to her. He had helped her defeat the savages that had sought to sacrifice her to their god, and then offered her a place upon his ship. Although she could not remember anyone from her life, she was certain that no one had ever been as kind to her as he was being. Bryn had no memory of her past, but Sinbad gave her the chance to make a future with him and his friends. His actions proved that he had a good heart, but there were things about him that sometimes had Bryn questioning his choices.
There was that look he got whenever he pulled his sword from an enemy, and stared at the blood on it. Almost like a perverted sense of pleasure. The way with which he gazed at the sunset, one of longing and despair. The one that made Bryn the most angry, though, were all of the women. They flocked at him, like bees to honey. And when Sinbad returned their flirting, it made Bryn's anger boil.
She scowled at the thought of a certain 'concubine' that they had encountered during the time they had freed Rongar's homeland from the evil Ali Rashid. Bryn shook her head, deciding that the little wench wasn't worth the effort. She picked up a strand of the green grass, and played it with absentmindedly, twirling it around her fingers as she thought some more of her captain.
There was the pain as well. It was the one thing that Bryn did understand about him. No one who took a close look at Sinbad could miss it. And she of course, did have a tendency to do that. Bryn blushed slightly as that thought crossed her mind, but let her attention drift back to Sinbad.
The pain. It would fall across his face without warning, and his blue eyes seemed to dull. Whenever he watched Dermott, circling in the sky, is when it would hit him the hardest. That was when he would close up. Let his walls encase him, so much so, that not even Bryn could bring them down.
That was what hurt her the most. When he shut her out.
Bryn glanced briefly at the rainbow bracelet that adorned her left wrist. She could not remember how she had gotten it, but she knew there was a reason why Sinbad had an identical one. The two had a bond, one that was so strong, that not even the devil himself could break it. And he had tried, mind you. The memory of their encounter with Scratch would forever be embedded in her memory. Bryn had never felt anything so evil as the aura that had emanated from that demon.
But something good had come out of that terrifying ordeal. Sinbad found a little peace. That wonderful woman, Mala, had given it to him, and for that, Bryn would forever be grateful to her.
This has helped Sinbad to enjoy the good that he could do for others. Whenever they came across someone who was in trouble, he did not think twice about helping them, and practically jumped into the thick of the battle, though it was not his fight. His love for fighting evil would actually inspire others to help.
But Sinbad seemed to be the happiest when he was sailing, and that was when Bryn enjoyed watching him the most, from afar. She would let her eyes drink in every detail about him.
The way that he would stand at the bow of the Nomad, the wind blowing through his thick hair, tousling it a little. It seemed that was where he was most content. He would close his eyes slightly, letting the sun's rays warm him and the waves gently rock him, soothing whatever pain he might have felt.
And when he would turn, and catch sight of her, Bryn swore that his eyes would light up, just a little. She relished in that thought. He would smile, and beckon her over to join him at the railing. She of course, would drop whatever it was she was doing in a heartbeat. Simply because nothing was as important to her as he was.
They would stand there, the two of them. Talking or simply gazing out at the sea in silence, enjoying each other's company. Those were the moments that Bryn would cherish always.