Disclaimer: I do not own Sinbad in any of his incarnations, nor do I own Gunnar, sadly. This is just for fun.

A/N: This was actually written about 6 months ago but it's taken this long for to add Sinbad as a category. Better late than never LOL!

IN ANOTHER'S EYES

Gunnar sat up on deck, alone save for cook who fished just off the bow for the evening meal, distant enough and for once silent enough so as not to intrude on his privacy. He leaned back against the rigging, his shoulders and head pressed into the wooden mast, one hand clutching at a rope for support while the other lay limply across his knee. He was tired, so tired he thought as he stared blankly out over the ocean, but he could not rest. Not with all that had happened today and all that could have happened. Not with the tumult of emotions that flooded his body and the thoughts that raced unchecked through his mind.

Sinbad knew. Sinbad who was himself flawed and arrogant and sometimes selfish, yet somehow still had a naïve innocence about him that drew Gunnar to him like a moth to a flame. Sinbad, the one man above all others who Gunnar would have shielded from the shameful truth of his past, the one man he could not stand to see disappointed in him. Sinbad, who had hidden in the palace shadows waiting for the opportunity to rescue his friend from Obsedian and the Khaima, had heard everything. He had heard his confession of guilt, his admittance of his past crimes and had saved him anyway… in more ways than one.

Why? Why, knowing the monster that Gunnar had been and the terrible things that he had done, had Sinbad risked his own life to save him? And more was the question, why did Gunnar care so much? Obsedian had seen it before even he himself had. Had released him in good faith of his promised return because of it, and when all was done, had released him from that promise for the very same reason, but it was only now, in the early evening sun, with the sound of the sea lapping gently at the edges of the ship, that Gunnar could admit to himself that his feelings for Sinbad were so much more than friendship. He loved him, completely and inexplicably, in every way it was possible to love another person. The realisation brought with it a strange sense of relief, coupled with a feeling of utter hopelessness. No matter what his feelings for Sinbad, Sinbad would never love him back, not the way Gunnar would have wanted. Even if his leanings were towards other men, and he was certain they were not, he could never love a man like Gunnar… No one could.

He closed his eyes and leaned back even further against the mast as if he could somehow melt into it and disappear.

When Sinbad came on deck, Gunnar felt his presence before he heard his footsteps. At first he didn't dare open his eyes in case he saw the disappointment that he so feared but the boards beneath them both creaked loudly as Sinbad drew nearer and when he sat down Gunnar found he was no less able to keep from looking at him than he was to keep from breathing. The look was brief, and he turned his eyes from it almost immediately.

Say what you have come to say. He begged silently. Then leave so that I might mourn alone the loss of a treasured friendship.

But Sinbad did not speak, he watched. He watched the other man intently, turning his gaze away only briefly and shaking his head almost imperceptibly before turning it back. Gunnar risked another glance and this time it held. Sinbad was still staring, head tilted to one side, brows slightly furrowed as if he were waiting for something. He sighed. Sinbad answered with a sigh of his own. Gunnar could stand it no longer.

"There was this little village." He began, with a sudden and desperate need to fill the painful silence that was stripping away his defences, defences that had taken years to build and under Sinbad's curious eye, just moments to destroy. "Hindemark. Little farming place. Beautiful." A faint smile tugged gently at the corners of his mouth but it was gone in an instant. "Valsgarde tore through it one morning, torching buildings, putting down any resistance." His eyes darkened. The memory was painful to him, as was much of his past but he continued. It was important to him that he finished, now that he had started. "Just as we're leaving… Someone starts to strike me from behind. I turn, and I see this little old lady standing there. Tiny thing. She has a walking stick in her hand and she's hitting me with it again and again. Everybody's laughing at her. She's too old and weak to do me any harm and..." He paused , taking a moment to regain control of his emotions. "I start laughing too." He said, shamefully. "And then I see the look in her eyes, not of fear and anger, but of disgust, for what we are. Inhuman. Plague. It is a look I have seen many times since..." He turned his gaze back to the ocean. "In my own eyes."

For a moment there was only silence. When Sinbad finally spoke, his voice was soft, full of concern, not the contempt Gunnar had expected.

"Gunnar." He said. Gunnar's eyes remained fixed upon the sea. "Look at me." When he received no response, Sinbad reached out a hand to touch the other man's cheek, cupping the strong, bristled jaw in his palm, fingertips lightly brushing across the tanned, battle scarred skin there, thumb stroking at the edge of the blond beard, making Gunnar prickle and burn. "I said look at me." Gently he turned Gunnar's face to his. "Tell me, what is it you see when you look into my eyes.? Do you see disgust?"

Gunnar looked, searched, but all he was saw was respect, admiration and… not the love he craved but still something infinitely deeper than simple friendship. It wasn't everything he wanted but it was more than he ever could have hoped for and more than enough for him. It made Gunnar want to fall into his arms and weep.

"No." He whispered. "No. I don't."

Sinbad smiled.

"That's not who you are anymore. You're a good man Gunnar, a fine man, brave and honourable. You were ready to sacrifice your own life in order to save mine. That is something I will never forget. Stop punishing yourself for the terrible things you did in the past and instead, be proud of the good that you do now."

"Sinbad I…"

"Hush, and listen. Remember these words. When a man looks into a mirror, when he looks into his own eyes, he sees only what he expects to see, what he thinks he should see. It is only when he looks into the eyes of another and catches his reflection there that he can see what he truly is." He let his hand slip from it's place on Gunnar's cheek and settled it upon his shoulder. "When you are ready, come and join us below."

Gunnar nodded .

"A moment more, please."

Sinbad nodded in return and rose to his feet, smiling over his shoulder as he left.

Alone again, Gunnar took one last look out over the ocean and thought about what Sinbad had said. Could it be that he was right, that he, Gunnar, was a good man? He had been a monster once, he had committed vile and unspeakable horrors but when he had looked into Sinbad's eyes he had not seen the face of a monster reflected back at him, he had seen a man, the same man that Sinbad had seen. Sinbad had already forgiven him, maybe it was time to forgive himself. He had been running for what seemed like forever, hiding from his past, maybe it was time to put the past behind him and move on.

It would not be easy. Guilt, Gunnar thought, of all the emotions was possibly the hardest to let go of, especially when one had been clinging to it for as long as he had been. He would never forget the man he had been or the things that he had done, he would always be shamed by them, but with Sinbad at his side to remind him not of what he had been, but what he was now, would he at last be able to lay that man to rest and begin a new life.

Gunnar smiled. Yes, he believed he would. With Sinbad at his side he believed anything was possible.

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