asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.

Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.

There are no request in this part of the meme.

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Part 1
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Oh man that was hot. Airborne substance that makes dudes compulsively suck cock? Hallelujah, writeranon!

This reads like it could have been a cutscene straight from the game. Your characterization is spot on and I love your dialogue. Wonderfully written and refreshingly different. Bravo to you, write-anon!

Original: http:// forkinsocket. livejournal. com/19704.html?thread=3564792#t3564792

Prompt: Sooo going back to AC2 at the first scene where Vieri throws a rock at Ezio's face and all that fighting...

What if, as Vieri and his group fall back, Federico sees him (Vieri) making eyes at his little brother (Ezio)? And so big brudder goes and teaches Vieri a lesson (no sexytiems, just instilling pure FEAR, because that's what real big brothers do)!

I just like to see big siblings protect the younger ones :>

***

His eyes opened, which was strange, because he didn’t remember closing them. He saw darkness, the sky pitch black and cloudy. The ground was hard and flat at his back, but it was smooth and unlike the rough, uneven surface of the alleyway he remembered being in last.

Then came the ache in his jaw.

Vieri blinked, his hand finding its way to his mouth. It hurt. His lips parted, breaking apart, the blood dry between split skin. He could smell the blood, sharp and unpleasant—unpleasant if only because it was his own. It contrasted the dull throb he felt in his hands, and he glanced at his knuckles to see them splotched pink from abuse as if he had hit something. Repeatedly.

“You’re awake.”

Vieri whipped his head up at the voice that came from behind him. Federico stared at him, lying on his stomach a few feet away, his chin resting on crossed arms. His cheekbone was slightly swollen, red and painful-looking. He continued to speak, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I was afraid you’d wake up before I got you up here, but you were out cold. And here I thought you could handle more than a few hits.”

The last thing Vieri remembered was Federico’s fist in his peripheral vision.

Vieri twisted around onto his stomach to push himself up to his knees, refusing to take his eyes off Federico. He suddenly remembered everything: the way he was taunted and goaded into a fight, the way he was led on a chase to separate himself from his men.

Federico had been a crafty bastard and had only stepped out of the shadows when Vieri found himself alone and without backup. The fist fight that ensued had been short, Vieri getting in the first shots, but Federico was swift and knew where to hit to cause the damage he wanted.

Vieri’s hand automatically went to the top of his head, searching for his hat and finding it gone. He recalled it getting knocked off after one of Federico’s hits. His eyes narrowed at the memory, his mouth opening to throw out a enraged curse at Federico, who hadn’t moved from his spot. He would have yelled, would have leaped to his feet to attack, but something wasn’t right. The darkness surrounding them seized Vieri’s attention, halting his actions.

He realized with a start that the reason why it was so dark was because the lights of the buildings were far below them.

“Where—?” He cut himself off as his eyes darted around. He knew where they were: on the rooftop of Campanile di Giotto. He glanced behind him to see the cross on top of the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore. A light breeze blew through his hair and his shoulders drew up. Vieri warily sat back, hands flat and anchoring him to the ground. “How...?”

This time, Federico silenced him, a grin on his face as he pointed towards him. “You’re not exactly light.”

“What is wrong with you?” Vieri shouted, incredulous. Federico was mad! To carry him all the way up here, and for what?

“You don’t think it’s a beautiful view?” Federico stood up and dusted himself off. He turned and grabbed the railing at the edge of the rooftop to gaze out over the buildings. He leaned his forearms against the flat surface and sneaked a peek over his shoulder, staring at Vieri with hooded eyes. “Come, enjoy it with me.”

Vieri pushed himself to his feet, feeling lightheaded. It was probably because of the hits he took from their earlier fight. It could have also been because the ground seemed to move, and he couldn’t help but sway as he straightened. He could see all across the city from where he stood.

“What are you getting at?” His lip throbbed and the back of his hand pressed against it. “Why are we up here?” he growled, irritation mumbled into his skin.

Federico didn’t turn around, didn’t answer him. He seemed content to gaze at the stars twinkling between clouds.

Vieri wondered if he could get close enough without being detected. He could just imagine how shattered Federico’s body would be after hitting the ground from this height. No one would question it; Federico could always be seen climbing along the rooftops. It would only be fitting that one day he’d fall.

He didn’t like being up here, but maybe he could use it to his advantage.

One step forward and Federico spun around. “Why are you so violent, Vieri? I don’t understand.” Federico pushed himself up on the barrier, sitting at the edge comfortably and without a care. “You should be nice to people. The change would do you good.”

“Are you lecturing me?” Vieri said, words ground out as his eyes narrowed.

Federico shrugged. “More like scolding.” He rubbed at his sore, reddened cheekbone. “It’s something else you need, apparently.”

It didn’t matter that they were at the top of the bell tower. It didn’t matter that there was an opening in the middle of the roof and that with one misstep he could fall through. It didn’t matter, because Vieri needed to finish his fight.

Vieri rushed Federico, who hopped from his seat and waited. His laid-back attitude about their encounter only fueled Vieri on to want to lash out harder.

He swung at him, cursing when Federico twisted out of his way immediately. Hands clamped down on his shoulders, Federico taking the steps to pull Vieri to the side and to fling him towards the other edge of the building. Vieri stumbled from the force of the shove, crying out when a body hit his back, Federico’s weight driving him into the railing. His stomach slammed into the ledge of the low wall, his breath leaving him in a pained gasp.

His hands snapped around the railing in an attempt to lessen the overbearing pressure as he fought to push back. His grunt of exertion turned into a loud protest when Federico gripped his hair and forced him further over the barrier.

He took in a harsh breath; he seemed so much higher up now that he was looking over the edge. He was hit with the realization that while he wanted to toss Federico off the building, Federico could very well do the same to him.

Vieri threw him a wide-eyed look without meaning to. From the smug grin he received then, Vieri knew Federico understood what he was thinking. Federico took a step up onto the low wall, yanking Vieri up with him by his arm and shoulder. Vieri jolted back in his grip when the city opened up below him.

“What are you doing!?” he cried out sharply, struggling to break free from the strong hold on him. There was a small wooden platform that jutted out of the side of the building, and Federico shoved him on it. When Vieri scrambled to heave the both of them back towards solid, steady ground, the hold on him became crushing. It kept him still and upright, and more importantly, secured to the beam.

It was no comfort to him and Vieri could not help the frantic noise he made when the body at his back crowded him forward. His feet skidded along the wood as Federico took advantage of his panic to overpower him and to wrestle him towards the very tip of the view point.

Vieri bolted upright as the empty night sky surrounded him, wind whipping around him. There was nothing below him, nothing to grab if he fell. His hands shot back to grip at Federico’s clothes, his fingers clenched tightly in desperation. He didn’t care; he leaned into the body at his back.

Fuck Federico. He probably wasn’t worried in the slightest. Heights meant nothing to the bastard, but Vieri had never been so high up. He found himself frozen to the spot, staring past his boots at the edge of the platform. His breathing refused to slow, coming out loudly through clenched teeth.

“Look.” Federico’s voice was calm and encouraging over his shoulder as he pointed towards the right. “You can see where I live from here.”

Vieri grit his teeth harder, eyebrows pinching together despite his wide eyes. He couldn’t take his focus off the ground.

“You think I care?” he hissed.

“I would like it if you do so from now on. After all, my family lives there, the one you speak so terribly about.” Federico’s voice lowered, displeasure evident in his tone. “Stop spreading lies about us, Vieri, and stop trying to tear us down. Dishonesty isn’t very becoming to you.”

Anger overrode Vieri’s fear for one moment and he almost managed to snarl out his rage despite his terror. “How are they lies if they’re the truth?”

His breath caught, throat tightening when Federico pressed closer to him, edging him forward, forcing him to lean too far. He slid back against an unmoving body, feeling the tremors in his legs and the pounding of his heart as the arm in his peripheral vision moved in front of him. Federico seemed oblivious to his torment, speaking easy.

“How about there?” Vieri knew right away that he was pointing to the bridge he and Ezio fought on earlier. “There’s where you showed your cowardice when attacking my brother.”

Vieri couldn’t say anything, unwilling to antagonize Federico into pushing him further forward. There was no more space left on any side of him. All it would take to pitch off the edge was for him to tilt forward. He was more scared than he cared to admit and even more so when Federico placed a hand flat over his chest, heat spreading over his rapidly beating heart.

“Don’t harm him again.” Fingers ripped the laces of his cape, Vieri gritting his teeth to hold in his complaint as Federico growled at him. “If I find you going anywhere near my brother, this,” his cape was held out, Federico’s clenched fist opening to let the cloth drop from his grasp, “might be you.”

His heavy cape fell fast. Vieri stopped watching its descent, swallowing hard as he frowned. Federico wouldn’t push him. Federico was sick and twisted, but he wasn’t a murderer, and there was no way he’d go through with his threat. It was bad enough that he had attacked him and brought him up here, but to mess around with him like this!

Vieri kicked off the ground, shoving backwards and throwing Federico off balance. He hoped that he could get back to the roof, but Federico planted his feet against the platform and nudged him hard.

Vieri tripped forward.

There was nothing so terrifying as the moment when he stumbled from the force of the push and his foot found nothing solid to land on. Vieri heard himself yell and felt the wind hit his face as he dropped. His hands reached out for anything to grab hold and only touched air.

Arms shot around his waist. There was another yell from behind him and a loud thump as he landed on something hard. Vieri opened his eyes, his legs straddling the narrowest part of the beam as Federico knelt behind him and held him close.

It was quiet for a moment before Federico let out a breath. “If you’re so eager to jump, perhaps you shouldn’t start so high.”

Vieri brought his shaking legs up, and when he made to scoot backwards, Federico let him, but not enough to get back to the roof. Vieri turned bright eyes towards him, a scowl on his face. Federico smiled and stood up.

“Leave us alone, Vieri, especially my brother.“

Vieri narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you.”

Federico gave him the most pleasant expression. Then he jumped up and slammed his feet against the wooden beam, driving his weight upon it.

The platform creaked loudly.

Vieri froze, his fingers snapping around the edges of the beam in a death grip. He was quiet and subdued even when Federico made his way over to the opening in the roof and started to climb in, a grin on his face.

“Have fun finding your own way down.”

I don't know if anyone's still reading this... this scene didn't want to flow, at all. After this though updates will pick up again, promise; got some new vigor.
--

"You're too important for me to let something happen to you. Do you understand?" Altair asked kissing his knuckles.

"I... yes," he nodded slowly.

"I hope so," Altair said softly continuing to kiss his knuckles with their myriad of tiny scars, "I would become undone if I was to lose you," it wasn't a lie either. "After all who would have the guts to tell me to do something if I didn't want to," he grinned slightly.

"I've never done that," Cipriano said frowning.

"Threatening me when I stayed in my room, not even Ezio came to see me."

"He was busy," Cipriano insisted and Altair smiled, so modest this boy was.

"He knew better than to anger me again for he saw it once and I doubt wanted to see it again."

"Nor would I," Cipriano nodded in total understanding since he'd seen what Altair's anger looked like directed at someone else and probably didn't want to imagine it directed at him. "Have you forgiven him?"

"I was not angry at him. I was angry at myself."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, I am past it," mostly past it at least, he was still trying to think of how to fix what he'd blundered. "We are not talking about Ezio though," he bruised Cipriano's knuckles and fingers with more kisses. He felt the other of the darker man's long fingered hands comb through Altair's hair.

"Aalam?" he asked. Altair just hummed, enjoying the caresses given to him freely by the young man. "You would never hurt me would you?"

"No," he lied. One day he would hurt him just like he hurt all the others. The ones that lasted always wanted to become old with him. But while they could do such a thing he could not grow old with them, he did not age, he did not change, he was eternal, more than even stone. Stone could change its form, become new stone, but Altair could not, all he could be was what he was right now. Even after all this time he'd yet to figure a way out of hurting those he loved, because in the end he became just as wounded as those he hurt. "I would never hurt you," the words came freely to his lips when he spoke, for years of lies made even the deepest ones sweet to any ears.

Cipriano leaned down and kissed him gently, a soft smoothing of scared lips over his own with the one deep, permanent scar. "Good," Cipriano said against his lips.

"Come to bed and let’s put this behind us," Altair said softly gently stroking his face the skin smooth under his calloused fingers.

Cipriano nodded and shed the remaining of his clothing, letting the pants drop onto the floor with a soft 'wumpth'. Altair lay down on the bed and was surprised when Cipriano climbed onto it after him not beside him but on top of him. "Aalam," he said as almost a whisper, tipping his head down and kissing him before pulling away the sheet Altair had pulled over himself to caress his bare chest.

"You don't have to do this Cipriano," he said when they came up for air.

"I know, but I want to," he said and ran one of his hands through Altair's hair.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

Cipriano laughed softly, "You won't. You never would, not now," and kissed Altair again to silence any complaints Altair might make. "I trust you," he almost told him to stop then since he did not feel worthy of such innocent and boundless affection this young man was all too willingly showering him with. Instead he pulled Cipriano close and kissed him firmly, pulling away the rest of the sheet as the darker man ground his body against his.

Cipriano's hands fumbled over Altair's scarred and marked skin. He knew the young man had every blemish, every cut, every scar, every tiny imperfection on his skin, a number which had only increased with his age, memorized and his lips and tongue seemed to find every one. Altair sighed when that red tongue rolled over a particularly large one on his chest where he'd been cut from flank to breast in one fell swoop back in the thirteen hundreds. Again and again Cipriano touched those old scars and made Altair shiver and where his tongue had passed would break into goose flesh as saliva cooled and dried on his skin rapidly.

Altair hummed when Cipriano traced a large and puckered scar on his pelvis with his index finger. That one was very old, from the Fourth Crusade, and the bunched skin was sensitive to even such a light touch. The end of the scar was lost beyond the top of his under pants and he grinned when Cipriano pulled them down to finish tracing the scar that went halfway down his thigh after starting just above the join between leg and torso. "Keeping track of all my old wounds boy?" he asked almost playfully.

"I am not a fucking boy," Cipriano said in a low growl interjecting curses where he wanted since he knew Altair liked hearing him say them.

"Hmmm, not with those eye's you aren't," Altair agreed looking down at Cipriano who was staring back with dark, feral, eyes.

"And yes, I am," Cipriano said and pressed his lips against the tender flesh on the inside of his thigh.

"Let me know if you find any new ones. I can't keep track," Altair's teased and Cipriano laughed softly into his skin.

"I will," he promised, sliding further down to coil his tongue across a practically invisible scar on the inside of his knee.

Altair sighed and relaxed into the bed, enjoying Cipriano's careful attention to each scar, even the small ones. "Hey," he growled when the young man bit down on his thigh, "I have enough permanent bite marks," he said and grinning an apology Cipriano released his flesh and kissed the red mark.

“Sorry,” he said softly and Altair could feel the way his lips were curled against his skin.

“That mouth of yours always gets you into trouble Cipriano,” he said and Cipriano chuckled.

“I can’t help it. You seem to bring out the worst in me,” he didn’t seem sorry in the slightest however. Altair just chuckled as fingers and lips moved back up his chest and Cipriano practically lay on top of him, his chin on his sternum. “And I just had a thought-

“Oh here we go-

“Shut up,” he said sounding annoyed but mirthful. Delicatly he picked at the Key which lay in the hollow of his throat. “Why do you always wear this?”

“Problem?”

“You don’t even take it off when we have sex.”

“I don’t take it off when I bathe either,” he pointed out. “Does it bother you?”

Cipriano’s lips became a thin line for a moment as he decided on his answer. “Do you take it off for Venitia?”

“She’s lucky if I take off my clothes,” and Cipriano laughed, quickly smothering it in Altair’s chest, his body shuttering with his amusement.

“Really?” he asked around Altair’s skin and his own giggling. Altair only shrugged to the question. “It’s important to you though-

“Yes. Now are we going to keep talking or-

Cipriano was laughing again. “Weren’t you the one saying we didn’t have to?” he challenged but Altair just pushed him and rolled them over so he was pinning the younger man on his back. “Or were you just kidding?”

“It is not advisable to anger me,” he growled softly though not at all angry.

“You couldn’t be angry with me if you cried,” Cipriano challenged, lifting his head off the pillow and kissed him.

“You should learn manners,” Altair managed to say only when they remembered to breath.

“You’ll have to discipline me than.”

Altair rose both brows at him, “Oh, do not tempt me,” and Cipriano grinned into their next kiss, wrapping his arms around Altair’s neck, keeping him close. “Because I will,” he promised against his lips. At least they could be like this now, an uncertain future could wait and Altair focused just on the man before him, not even letting those dark ghosts get in the way.

—

The knocking was soft, but annoyingly insistent, like a fly that buzzed around your ear and you couldn’t manage to catch it. He grumbled and practically slid off the bed feeling boneless and exhausted and feeling a certain amount of rightful rage to whoever had the balls big enough to disturb his rest. Didn’t they know what time it was?

Currently though he was naked, which was rather obvious, so he slouched over to his dresser and dragged out a pair of pants and stumbled into them, almost falling on his face at least once. Just once though, he wasn’t clumsy enough to almost fall twice. Blindly he reached out and dragged a scarf from the pile he kept at the top of the dresser and mindlessly wrapped it around his head and face like a woman’s hijab. He’d done up enough of those in his life to know how to put one on in the dark, with gloves on, upside down. The drawstring was tied around his waist as he walked to the door and opened it, sticking his head out and looking back and forth down the hall.

No one.

Someone was going to die.

“Aalam,” he started at the voice and looked down and his anger evaporated. It was Giovanni Borgia.

“Giovanni, what are you doing here?” he grumbled and rubbed the part of his face that was visible.

“You’re supposed to take me to see my mama,” he said.

“Now?” what time was it? “What time is it?”

“An hour past the quarter bell,” he recited.

Altair uttered a curse in Arabic. He’d slept in. That hadn’t happened in a long while, not that he was particularly surprised though. “Well I just woke,” he said before realizing something, “How did you find my room?” the boy had never been near his room before.

“Consus told me to ask Dante. He told me,” the traitor. No doubt making him work hard instead of sleeping in. He really did want to go back to bed since he and Cipriano had returned late and finally fallen asleep even later. He was going to have words with Dante about telling children where his room was.

“I see,” he sighed and pondered over what to do. “Come in, I am not yet dressed but I don’t want you waiting outside,” and the boy darted into his room now seeming to be very excited. “Sit on the chair, I will be ready shortly,” he said and the child climbed up onto the chair and sat.

Muttering to himself, though slowly growing more awake, Altair went back over to the bed. “I need to leave,” he said softly, leaning over Cipriano in the bed who was still buried under their blankets making his form indiscernible as far as gender went.

“You need to come back to bed,” Cipriano grumbled, his head stuffed into a pillow.

“Duty calls, it comes first,” he sighed and ran a hand through the loosened curls that covered the darker man’s head.

He turned over so he was lying on his back now and reached up to tug down Altair’s scarf, “Our bed should come first,” he lamented, fingertips drifting over the lines on his face.

“You’ll live somehow,” Altair said and kissed him gently, “You can stay here, just lock the door when you leave.”

“Where are you going?” Altair’s response was to look over his shoulder and Cipriano twisted in order to see around him. “Is that-

“Yes, the Borgia boy,” he said quietly. “Just go back to sleep. We’ll be gone shortly.”

“And if I don’t want you to go?” Cipriano purposefully grabbed the hem of Altair’s pants to keep him from leaving.

“I must, sorry,” he said and gently tugged away. Cipriano just groaned and rolled back over, almost sulking. Altair rolled his eyes and looked back over at Giovanni who was on his knees, leaning over his desk, hands pressed against some papers. He didn’t fear the boy would be able to read them though since like all the personal papers he kept they were written in coded Arabic that he read as easily as regular Arabic. He dressed quickly, pulling off the scarf he’d been wearing to replace it with his mask and hood. “Giovanni,” he called softly as he sheathed his sword properly, now fully dressed and armed.

The boy spun in the chair so fast to look at him he almost fell over and Altair chuckled softly, “Are we going to see my mama now?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, but shhhh,” he said and beckoned to the boy who slipped off the chair. “Someone is still sleeping,” and he motioned to Cipriano’s back where all you could make out of him was his head of black hair. The boy immediately put a finger up to his lips with a nod and Altair ushered him out of the room, locking it behind him.

“Aalam, why was someone else sleeping in your bed?” he asked in a way only a child could ask such a personal question without it being offensive.

“It isn’t important,” Altair replied, “But you must not mention it to anyone.”

“Why?” his head tilted to the side slightly, trying to understand.

Altair kneeled in front of him, “It would cause me a great deal of trouble if people knew I was sharing my room.”

“Why?”

Oh great, this game. Why did children love the ‘why game’? He never knew, and he didn’t know if he had done the same thing even since that had been far to long ago to remember. “Because I’m doing something wrong. I would get in trouble if people found out. You don’t want to get me into trouble, do you Giovanni?”

“No!” he cried, even giving a little jump.

“Good, than this will be our secret? I can trust you with this can’t I brother?”

Giovanni practically glowed at the praise, “Yes, yes I won’t tell anyone,” he promised, nodding rapidly.

“Good, now lets go see your mama,” he said and stood back up. Giovanni smiled brightly and padded along next to him quickly to keep up with his longer strides.

They left the hideout without incident, except for Francesco asking if Altair if he’d seen Cipriano, he’d just said no and moved along. Out on the island no one paid them mind and it wasn’t until they crossed over the bridge that Altair began to use allies and side streets. While he could have moved through the crowd unseen without trouble, no one remembering he’d even been there, there was the boy who as always was curious and would have been noticed. Children he’d found were more memorable than adults because they were so loud, so clumsy. So he stuck to the shaded and less traveled lanes. At one point Giovanni came right up to his side and grabbed his hand. He looked down, surprised, and saw him looking around warily. Not afraid, but nervous as if the darkened streets made him uneasy, which was understandable seeing as how he was only five years old. Altair simply squeezed his hand and continued on, at a bit of a slower pace so he didn’t have to drag him along.

Eventually they came to a quiet, empty, walled plaza. There was one entrance that didn’t involve scaling a three story building and there were two trees in a patch of grass cut into the stone paving. He left Giovanni there, telling him to be quiet and not draw attention before leaving to go find Lucrezia. It didn’t take long, for she was where she always was, waiting for him at one of the fountains, dressed down from her normal splendor so she almost passed as a normal woman.

“Hello Lucrezia,” he said only loud enough to be heard by them and not draw attention.

“You,” was all she said that little hint of venom still there. She did not know his name, he wouldn’t tell her even though she had asked. “Where is my son?”

“This way,” and he made a small sweeping motion with his arms as if to indicate her to go first. She huffed and marched past him, he followed a step behind and directed her where to turn. They weren’t far from the plaza so it was not much of a walk but as they got closer Altair felt like something was amiss.

Lucrezia froze at the entrance of the plaza and Altair quickly looked around her and saw two older men looming over Giovanni who was still sitting where Altair had left him. He couldn’t hear their words but men did not approach children for no reason, especially not in a city like Rome. He pushed past the woman who seemed on the verge of outrage and quickly walked over to them. “Excuse me,” he called and the men looked up. They looked like slavers, or maybe thieves, hell they could have been brothel owners. Some people had sick fantasies that some people were willing to cater to. Whatever they were they looked likely were no good. “I would advise leaving,” he said.

“Get lost, we ain’t got no quarrel with you,” said one.

“Ah, but I have one with you should you not step away from that child,” Altair said.

I'm lame and amused by the fact that I've reached part 123, herr herrr
--
The two men looked him over but saw nothing but his robes, no armor, no weapons, they all were hidden, and he did not wear such a flashy uniform as some of his brothers and sisters did. “Oh? What what are you supposed to be? The Assassino?” one of them joked and he frowned, narrowing his eyes as well. All of Rome knew of Ezio’s reputation, he was the Assassin, most thought the only one, and they knew he dressed in white robes with a hood and a cape.

“No. I am not,” he said in a hard tone. “I am just a blade in the crowd, and unless you want to find out what that means you will leave, now,” he growled.

The men just laughed, “Oh, thinks he’s tough doesn’t he? Look man, we don’t want to fight you, wouldn’t be a fair fight and-

“I take that as a no,” and he grabbed one by the collar of his robes and seemed to toss him aside so that he struck the wall, the blow cushioned by his head. The other yelped when Altair dragged him close with his right hand and seemed to punch him in the gut, only this punch was accompanied by the deadly taste of steel as he twisted his hidden blade into the man’s soft inner flesh. “You would do well too remember to take the words of strangers more seriously,” he said softly and released the man who stared at the man before slumping over, not dead, but seriously wounded.

“As for you,” he looked over at the other man who’d scrambled to his feet and upon Altair turning his attention to him bolted, knocking Lucrezia down in his haste to get away.

“Mama!” Giovanni cried and ran over to her and helped her up, “Are you okay?” he asked.

Lucrezia gave her son one of her rare smiles, “Yes darling, I’m fine.”

“Good,” he said cheerfully.

“But you,” and Lucrezia turned a sharp eye on him.

“I,” Altair nodded slightly.

“You just killed a man in front of my son an-

“He isn’t dead,” Altair looked down, “Not yet anyway,” he added. “I could have if I wanted, but it will be no worse than what he will have to do,” he said looking at them.

“Do not say such things, my child is not a murderer,” she snarled at him and marched over to him, Giovanni her little shadow.

“Giovanni, why don’t you tell your mama what you want to be when you grow up.”

There was a bright shine to the boy’s eyes when he said, “I want to be a Master Assassin like you Aa-” he cut off when Altair shook his head at him, silently telling him not to say his name.

“Oh Giovanni why would you say that?” she asked sounding beside herself and crouched in front of her son. “Those sorts of men kill people.”

The boy opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again and said, “Cesare kills people too,” and Lucrezia seemed shocked.

She turned to Altair furiously, “What have you been teaching my son?” she demanded.

“Only truth, unlike that house of lies you live in.” She looked away, embarrassed perhaps, or guilty, he didn’t know. “You stay here, I shall return shortly,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“I cannot just leave him here,” Altair gently kicked the man who thankfully was not screaming but rather seemed too terrified for words. “Either the Tiber or a doctor, I have not decided which,” and he leaned down before throwing the man over his shoulder. “And do not leave here Lucrezia, or I will not be pleased,” he added as a threat though he knew realistically she’d never jeopardize her son or her ability to keep seeing him.

At her nod he left the plaza and found the nearest doctor. “How may I be of service?” he asked.

“This man,” and he put the man down onto the ground.

“Oh, does he need treatment? Is he dead?” he seemed interested in the dead part.

“Perhaps. He could be, if you wished it,” Altair said. All the doctors knew of the Assassins and other than a few in the area they all paid tribute to the Assassins who kept guards and unsatisfied patients from harassing them. Not to mention Ezio practically owned every practice in this part of Rome as well. “He got in my way,” he explained, “Do you want him?”

“Well as a doctor I cannot kill a patient, it would go against my oath.”

“I see, then perhaps you could heal him? Allow me inside, he is very heavy.”

“He looks it,” the doctor nodded and left the window to open the door which Altair dragged the man through and put on the hard wooden gurney. “Well?” he asked.

“What should I do with him?” Altair asked keeping a firm hand on the man’s chest as he tried to get up despite his wound.

“He does not look like he’ll make it,” the doctor said pulling off his mask with a frown.

“That is unfortunate.”

“Wait, no!” the man finally spoke, able to finally twist his tongue into words that had been tied from fear. “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”

“Ah, but do you deserve to live?” the doctor asked. The statement didn’t surprise Altair, he knew doctors would let their patients die if they felt they deserved it. Not all doctors did, but some. “What was he doing?”

“He and another looked interested in my ward. He is five.”

The doctor tutted, “Definitely not than,” he said.

“You’re a doctor, you’re supposed to help people!” the man cried.

“Ha! Really? No no my friend, I help people who help me. And you are not, so-” he went over to his cabinet and pulled out a small glass jar as well as a syringe. “I’m going to give you something to make you sleep. When you wake up, you won’t remember a thing,” he said filling the syringe with clear liquid and moving back over to them.

“When?” the man seemed relieved since ‘when’ implied he wasn’t going to die.

“Yes. Say hello to God for me while you’re up there,” and he stuck the man with the needle pushing down the stopper quickly. The man stared at him before Altair watched his body shake a few times and lay still. “Rest now, this life is over,” the doctor said and closed the man’s eyes. “Thank you,” he told Altair and handed him a few coins, far fewer than he would make in selling the body to an artist, or simply using it for his own deeds.

“I won’t say it was a pleasure,” Altair ducked his head when the doctor chuckled and left the doctor’s office. He gave the coins to a street urchin without shoes and told them to buy themselves some with it and they nodded before running away. He found his way back into the walled plaza after that where Lucrezia and Giovanni where sitting on the grass under the two trees, interested in something but Altair did not worry himself over it. He sat on the other side of the tree instead, not listening to them talk, merely the sound of their voices and quickly became lost.

—

A child, a different child, not Giovanni, ran up to him and quickly became lost in the long tails of his dark robes. They giggled as he tried to twist around and get ahold of them. But children were like fish and slipped right through your fingers unless you held them just so, which he could not. When he finally stood still they hugged his leg and with lightening fast movement snatched them up from the ground.

“Daddy!” Darim grinned widely at him as he held the boy, so young and fragile and beautiful in every way. Altair had never thought much about children, than he had had one and never wanted to go back.

He smiled back at the toddler, barely three now, and growing so fast, like a weed. “Darim you know you shouldn’t be in my office,” he scolded gently but truly was not mad. He could not be angry with Darim, never, he was Altair’s pride and his joy.

“Well I am,” he said firmly in a tone that Maria took with him when she was being insistent upon something. Altair laughed, “I wanted to help you work,” he added.

“It isn’t as fun as you think Darim,” Altair said gently and walked over to his desk and sat, the boy on his lap. “I’m afraid you’ll find it rather boring.”

“Mommy said daddy works too much. So I’m helping!” he cried insistently and Altair grinned.

“All right,” he said softly and pressed his lips to Darim’s forehead. “I’m glad you’re here to help me then,” and Darim beamed back at him, missing two of his bottom teeth.
--

Damnit I almost cried like a little bitch writing that part with Darim. Just... I'm such a sap >___>

—

Altair looked up at the sun after a while, it was practically at it’s apex, meaning that this meeting had gone on long enough. He stood up from his spot on the tree his head whirling with part events that he shut away into that dark corner of his mind that he didn’t inspect all too often. Too many things he didn’t want to remember dwelled there and he had no patience for the past anymore. It was over, it was done, and yet still those old blades cut like freshly forged steel.

“Giovanni,” he said after clearing his throat, standing over the two of them. “It is time to go.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “Bye bye mama,” and he hugged her and kissed her on the cheek before following Altair who was making his way towards the exit.

“Same time next time, Lucrezia,” he told the blonde from the exit where she still sat under the trees watching them go. She only nodded and he turned away.

“Aalam,” Giovanni said and drew his attention downward. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Why would you think something is wrong?” he asked though wasn’t exactly surprised the boy had figured it out. He was no simple boy, he was a child of Eden, or at very least the Shroud.

“You’re sad,” he said softly, like a whisper or a secret. “Right? Consus says you’re sad too,” he said.

Altair let out a dry chuckle, “Perhaps,” he agreed, “But like everything, it too, shall pass.” The boy frowned and went up to him and hugged him as high as he could reach, which was only about the thigh. Altair swallowed something heavy, “Come Giovanni, we should be getting back. It is time for lunch-

“And you didn’t have breakfast,” Giovanni said grinning.

“No, I haven’t,’ he agreed.

“I’m hungry too,” the child declared and let go of Altair’s leg before grabbing his hand and practically pulling him back towards Tiber Island.
--

Almost cried writing this too, wtf why do little kids and Altair now make me unreasonably depressed?

This anon wants you to know that they are still reading and following this fic! I loved the part with the doctor. xD

My repost and continuation of the LadyHawke prompt from the first part, found here:

http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/16841.html?thread=1802441#t1802441

I'm a very slow updater, so I apologize for that in advance. I also encourage anyone reading this to take the time to go and watch the movie it's based on, because the movie is amazing and I'm only trying to do it justice.

For quick notes, this story is somewhat AU from the game, but not completely, and would take place after it ended. Malik is also in possession of both arms, and there is an OC. That said, read on.

To Altair,

My friend, I have no doubt when you awaken you will be just as disoriented as I have been these past few days. I have left this for you to take the place of the notes we have left each other since the start of our predicament. At the very least, this will not leave us wanting for paper at inopportune times. Our current location may seem a little strange, but ultimately it is for the best. My friend, we must leave Masyaf. No, indeed, we must leave everything. Until our situation has been undone, we cannot afford to be found, cannot afford to be known. Even our allies, our brothers, cannot be trusted. While they might do us no harm, this...this curse is too dangerous, and leaves us too vulnerable should the knowledge be spread.

So I have decided the best course of action is for us to take to the road. I have no idea how long it will take for us to find the Apple and rid ourselves of this blight. Perhaps weeks, perhaps years. I wish I could take you into confidence, share and discuss these matters to your face. It pains me to think that it shall be many days, or weeks, or months, before I can again look upon you in the flesh. Nonetheless, I wish you to know that, whatever happens to us now, I will always keep you safe, and will do whatever I can to bring an end to this, however long it takes.

For now, I leave you the comfort of this book, to share your thoughts with me, and I with you. Take care, my friend, be safe, and know that, whatever form, I am by your side.

Malik

Malik gazed sadly over the land before him. Masyaf was quiet in the morning light, the city only just beginning to stir, unknowing of the man who stood in the outlands, watching it with the eyes of someone who knows he may never return. He felt a sting in his chest. No longer would the walls of the city be a comfort to him. No longer could he depend on it for safety or reprieve. Indeed, it may easily be years before he lay eyes, or foot, in it again.

He scolded himself a little for it. He should not be letting himself get so discouraged. It would not help him to brood and mourn what he could no longer have. He had others things to worry about now, other responsibilities.

As if in response to his thoughts, one of which, and perhaps the most important one, made itself known with a small squawk and a light butting against the side of his face. He turned his head slightly to gaze at the eagle nestled on his shoulder, and raised his hand to stroke the feathered head. The bird let out a soft keen and gently nipped his fingers. He smiled a little.

"You are right, my friend. It does not help to dwell on dark thoughts. We should depart."

The eagle fluttered its wings slightly in agreement, and Malik nudged his heels against his horse, spurring the beast to turn and begin to trot away from the city. He cast one last glance over his shoulder before forcing himself to look ahead. Whatever awaited him now, he mustn't be hesitant. He must not regret. He needed to be strong for the trials he was sure to meet, in order to seize back his future.

Both their futures.

Malik,

I admit I was surprised to wake up in such strange and unfamiliar surroundings. You probably would've laughed if you'd seen me. I panicked momentarily until I saw you nesting on a nearby tree branch. Thank you for this book. It does comfort me greatly.

I feared as much, for I drew the same conclusion. I shall miss our home, but like you said nothing can be done for it. I hope we can bring a quick end to this curse, but if I think about it realistically I know it will probably take a long time for us to finish this. This saddens me. I suppose I should get used to living in the wilderness hunting for my prey. It proves much harder than tracking a target. When I kill a man, he is usually completely unsuspecting and goes down quickly. Animals have their cursed senses and usually bolt before I even get close. It is a sad sight. You would laugh.

The sun will soon be rising. Did you know? This whole time you've been sitting on my shoulder, watching me write. You will not remember it, I know, but already you are keeping your promise. How nosy you are, reading over me like this. You seemed like you were laughing at me earlier, watching me chase after food. Regardless of form, how you love to mock me.

I must go now. Safety and peace be with you brother, and know that just like you, I swear, I will always be with you.

Altair

"Where is he!?"

"Get out of the way! Find him!"

"Did you see him!?"

"Don't let him get away!"

The citizens of the city scrambled to get out of the way as a horde of guards and soldiers rushed by, their footfalls loud and echoing as they stampeded through the streets, looking this way and that, pointing and shouting and breaking off to cover more ground.

In the chaos, no one noticed a young man clinging to a low hang post, pressed flat against a building in the shadows, hidden from view by a banner. He made a sound with his tongue as he heard the soldiers fade into the distance, peeking out briefly to be sure it was safe, and then swinging to haul himself onto the roof, struggling to work his tired arms from hanging for so long.

"Yeah right," he scoffed, feeling for a purchase, "I didn't...do all that work...to break out of prison...to die NOW."

Glancing in all directions, he darted across, wary of the usual guards and archers that patrolled the rooftops. He ducked back behind an outcropping, grinning. Perhaps he would make it out of this yet.

He made his way down a few buildings before crawling over the side, bracing his feet against the wall and using the short posts to slowly climb down. As he reached for the next, he couldn't help a startled yelp as it gave under his grip just as he moved to swing down, and he fell, landing in some crates below with an almighty crash. He groaned.

Someone up there was having a laugh at him, he was certain. This kind of poor luck only struck those suffering from being the gods' current source of amusement.

Bastards. They weren't going to get a laugh from him if he was dead.

Almost on cue, he heard a shout in the distance and hurriedly scrambled up, stumbling over boxes and sprinting down the alley.

Of course, it only made sense that since he was being used for some higher force's entertainment, he came out only to crash brutally into a passing guard. Horrified, he flailed backward only to be caught by the arm.

'Oh, mother,' he thought, heart sinking, 'You were right. Life sometimes is so unbearably unfair.'

He smiled weakly. "Excuse me?" he tried.

The guard sneered and jerked him forward. "I have you now, you little vulture."

Well, there was really only one way to sum up this situation, as the first fist came rushing at him.

Shit.

"Shh, easy."

Malik gently patted the horse's snout as he tethered it to the posts, stroking its coat. Once he was certain it was secure, he turned to look at the gates.

Just beyond, he could see the usual bustle of activity, listening to the murmurs of the citizens as they went about their tasks and business.

It was not often he set foot into the major cities, preferring to keep to the smaller towns and villages, but he had no choice. He was desperately in need of adequate supplies. The attacks of last week had kept him in the wilderness too long, and he had been unable to restock in his usual haunts, forcing him to wait until things quieted down and then braving to visit the city.

Ah well. He had been careful at least to compose a proper list of everything he would need and he supposed he could stand to refresh his haggling skills. It had been a while since he'd last butted heads with merchants and the outlet might do some good after his recent sufferance. He grinned a little at the thought, chuckling.

There was a curious sounding squawk before a beak bumped his cheek. He smiled a little as he turned his head to meet golden eyes, raising a hand to stroke the bird's head.

"It is nothing, my friend. It has just been a while since we've been to a city."

The eagle perched on his shoulder gave a soft keen and ruffled its feathers.

He stroked along its wing. "Shall we go then?"

The eagle tilted its head and he nodded, falling into an easy step as he passed the gates and headed down the streets, milling through the crowds and examining the wares and stalls. A few civilians gave him a curious glance, no doubt due to his dusty black cloak, which spoke through its wear his excursions in the wilderness, and the great bird perched carefully on his person. As he bent to examine some goods at a stand, the man running it withdrew at little.

"Your bird doesn't bite, sir, does it?"

Malik glanced up briefly before picking up a piece of dried fruit from one of the many bowls. "No, he is tame enough. If he bothers you..."

The merchant waved his hand. "No, it is alright. It's just...unusual. Eagles are not a rare sight, but I usually observe them at higher altitudes."

Malik chuckled. "I suppose."

"He's quite a sight though. How did you manage to catch him?"

"Ah, he has been my companion for many seasons. I did not catch him, he has simply always been with me."

The man raised a brow. "Fortune favors you then."

Malik smiled a little bitterly. "Sometimes I wonder."

He helped himself to what he needed before paying his coin and moving on.

His shopping was going well enough as he glanced through his list, noting with relief that the prices had been less than he'd expected. Perhaps he'd been out of the cities too long.

As he made his way further along, the eagle suddenly perked, and he turned his head, trying to see what had caught its attention. After a moment he heard shouting and he followed the sound. Suddenly people were more plentiful as they moved past him in a hurry. He quickly dodged out of the way.

"This city is a good deal more lively than I remember," he murmured, watching civilians scramble about the streets and soldiers dashing about. There appeared to be some sort of commotion taking place. Curious, Malik carefully edged through the crowd, gently pushing away any who moved too close to him as he sought a better look.

There. Just ahead, a small group of soldiers were beating what appeared to be a young man, wresting him up from the dirt by the collar of his shirt as another laid a powerful backhand across his face. The boy's head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, spitting blood, and the one who held him shouted something. Two others came forward and grabbed his arms, holding him in place, as the first drew his sword.

Malik's frown deepened. Normally he would not get involved, as it was far better to draw as little attention to himself as possible, but he found himself striding purposely forward, unable and unwilling to watch the boy be slaughtered before him, whatever his crime. He raised his arm up as a cue for the eagle to take flight, which it did, letting out a short cry as it made a beeline for the group, Malik only a pace behind, already drawing his sword.

Blood would be spilled, but it would not be the boy's.

* * * *

Naji didn't understand how it had come to this. Surely there was no reason to execute him over a little pocket change. Dammit, the guards were always so dramatic, getting worked up over the smallest things. He watched the sword be drawn with apprehension, jerking his arms uselessly to try and free himself. To no avail, he was held firm as the guard shouted words that no longer registered to him, gaze fixed on the blade that in seconds would be buried in his flesh, its bite felt in his neck or stomach as it brought his life to an abrupt end.

He had almost escaped too! Curses, why did things always seem to turn out this way? Why couldn't he prevail just once? He might not be the most upstanding citizen, but he deserved a little slack. Perhaps he'd pushed his luck too far after that last incident which had landed him in prison. Hell, he hadn't known! He hadn't even gotten away with it!

He wanted to close his eyes, his body flinching. He hated the way the blow always took so long to come, the guards always drawing it out just to scare you more. Bastards.

He jumped when there was suddenly a wet thunk of someone being hit, but didn't for a moment understand why it wasn't him. A cry sounded behind and one his arms was then freed, and he turned to look.

Behind him stood a man in a long cloak wearing a hood, who had apparently just run through one of the guards holding him. He yanked it free and already it was swinging toward him. He ducked his head, but it flew far over to instead pierce the chest of the other guard, and released he quickly scrambled out of the way as the rest converged on the stranger.

Once a safe distance, he observed the newcomer with interest. He was obviously very skilled with a blade, the way that spoke of natural talent or much practice, or both. It was practically no contest, especially given that he'd caught the soldiers off guard and they were scrambling over themselves for a shot at the man. Naji saw one who'd been knocked away rise and try to come around to strike from behind. Before he even thought about it he grabbed a nearby stone and hurled it at the guard's head, catching him dead in the cheek. The guard gave a short cry before the stranger whirled and silenced him for good.

In no time at all, he'd defeated the entire group, and then turned to regard him. Naji flinched slightly, hoping that it wasn't his turn or something.

Cries from the distance alerted the both of them, and in a flash the man had sheathed his sword and ran over, taking Naji by the arm and dragging him bodily out of the dirt and to his feet. He was quick to take the hint and they ran.

* * * *

"Well...that was, um...engaging."

The two had stopped to rest at a small nest of trees on the outskirts of the city by a fountain, and Naji attempted to wipe some of the sweat and grime from his face. The water felt refreshing after the long chase he'd endured for the last hour.

"Yes," the man said, "It was not what I imagined to be the first thing I encountered upon my arrival."

He fidgeted. "Ah...sorry."

He glanced curiously at his savior as the man lowered his hood in order to see him better. He had a stern, yet handsome face, with dark charcoal eyes and short black hair. His jaw was peppered with stubble, aside from a tuff of a beard on his chin. He appeared to be assessing him as well.

And indeed he was. Malik ran his eyes up and down the other's form. Not overly tall, with shaggy black hair that had obviously seen the bad side of a barber's blade. He was a little on the scrawny side, as most who lived on the streets tended to be, but he seemed to be in good shape nonetheless, carrying the usual scars that spoke of scuffles with guards. He looked to be 18 to 20 years by Malik's estimate, but his most curious feature were his eyes, a startling shade of clear blue that spoke of some foreign blood in him. He gave a faint nod.

"Why don't you tell me your name, little crow?"

The boy glared, his eyes gleaming for a moment that twisted something in Malik's heart, it reminded him of...

"Naji," he said at last, "It's Naji. Of course, anyone who calls me anything calls me scavenger, thief, vagabond, gutter trash, etc."

"Naji...a good name." Malik's face was thoughtful.

He frowned, guarded. "My mother gave it to me."

Malik gave a faint nod. "I see. I am called Malik A’Sayf. You may call me Malik."

“Malik,” Naji echoed, “Uh, well, thank you, for saving me from those guards. I am in your debt.”

He gave a slight laugh. “There is no debt to be paid. I was simply passing through.”

Naji frowned. “You’re wrong. You are obviously a skilled warrior, but you still risked yourself to save me. I owe it to you to repay it.”

Malik raised an eyebrow at his vehemence. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

A smile flickered briefly across his face. This...could be troublesome, given his situation, but he supposed it would do no harm to indulge the boy for a short time. At the very least it would be an interesting diversion, and he did miss the company.

"Well, you may as well come along with me. If just to stay out of trouble." He turned and began to walk back towards the city gates.

Naji followed, staying a step behind.

They walked in silence for a short time before Malik spoke up.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Naji started. “Huh? Oh. I just turned 20.”

“Ah, I thought as much.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, how old are you?”

“I am 30, to be 31 this year.”

He felt surprise flutter through him. “Thirty? You don’t look it.”

“No?” Malik smiled.

“Well,” he scrutinized his features a moment, “I suppose I can see it, to an extent. You have a deceptively youthful face. You look more mid-twenties.”

“I am glad to know I apparently age well.”

A pause.

“So…Malik…where are we going?”

“Well, given the fuss we caused, it would be best to leave the city. So first we shall fetch my shopping, and then we will be on our way. Fortunately I secured most of my supplies before the scuffle.”

“Wait, we’re leaving the city?” Naji questioned, “Doesn’t that seem a bit drastic? Why not simply lay low?”

Malik turned to meet his eyes. “I am a drifter. I only stop in the cities when I am low on supplies. It is better, and easier, for me to stay on the move.”

Naji frowned. Something about the wording...“Are you on the run from something?”

“Not exactly. Nonetheless, my situation is a little complicated. Now, stop dawdling. We will speak more once we’re on the road.”

He groaned. What had he condemned himself to?

For someone who claimed not to spend much time in the cities, Malik seemed to know them like the back of his hand, easily mapping them through the alleys and backways and out of the sight of any guards. Eventually he took them around a corner where a small pile of bundles lay nestled in a shadowed crook of a building. What startled Naji though was the large eagle that sat perched on a crate, like a safeguard. He gave a squawk when he saw them and Naji jumped.

“What the—what is that? Why is it here?” he said, shuffling back as the bird flapped it’s wings briefly as though to shoo him off.

Malik made a clucking sound with his tongue and reached out an arm, inviting the bird to it, which it took quickly and shuffled its way onto Malik’s shoulder. He stroked its feathers briefly before letting his hand drop.

“This is my companion,” he explained, “He was guarding my belongings.”

“…Oh,” Naji glanced over the bird, unnerved by its piercing stare, “So he’s safe?”

“More or less, so long as you do not provoke him.”

Naji looked less than convinced. “Great.”

Malik chuckled, bending down to gather his things and passing some of them into Naji’s arms.

“Come, we have what we need.”

He peered around the corner before leading them down another road.

By the time they reached the gates Naji was beginning to question the wisdom of this decision. Malik seemed like a trustworthy individual, but he knew nothing about the man or his travels, and this business about staying out of the cities troubled him, as it implied there was more going on then he was going to like. But he couldn’t exactly just bail. Perhaps he could simply come along until they reached the next city and then be on his way.

Malik didn’t pay him much mind as began packing his horse, murmuring gently to it as the eagle took flight and hovered in small circles above them. Naji watched him before Malik nudged his side and he returned his attention to handing over his bundles. Once they were secured Malik mounted the horse and reached out a hand.

“Get on,” he said.

Naji frowned as he regarded it, unsure. “I…I have not really ridden horses before.”

A raised eyebrow was all he received in response. “Just put your foot in the stirrup and grab hold. I’ll pull you up.”

He did as Malik instructed, bumping his leg into the horse’s rump as he tried to swing it over.

“Are we really going to spend the night out in the wilderness?” he asked, already feeling reluctance at the mere idea.

Malik chuckled. “No. There is a village a short ride from here. We should reach it in a few hours. We will find accommodations there, so I may gather the rest of what I need, and be on the road tomorrow.”

With that, he kicked his heels and they were off.

* * * *

Two hours later found Naji bored and burning under the mid afternoon sun. He had not even had time to acquire a proper cloak, though Malik assured him they would remedy that once they reached the village. He had entertained himself a while by watching the eagle, who followed them steadily overhead.

“Does your bird have a name?”

“He does.”

“…Are you going to tell it to me?”

“Perhaps later.”

He groaned.

"Did you have any family or friends in the city?" Malik returned, "Someone you might have wished to appraise of you departure?"

"Do you always talk like this? And no. I'm not from that city. It's just, uh, just where I wound up."

"I see."

Naji was not about to make Malik aware of his thieving ways. Not yet anyway.

"Where are you from?" he asked instead.

"The city of Masyaf. It is a long journey from here."

Naji looked a little surprised. "Masyaf? Really? I've only heard stories of it."

"Oh?" Malik grinned a little, glancing over his shoulder, "What exactly have you heard?"

"That it's home to cutthroats and murderers, and secretly houses an army intent on someday taking over the neighboring cities."

Malik laughed. "Truly? How curious." He turned back to the road. "The Masyaf I grew up in is a peaceful city, full of interesting people. It's had a few troubles here and there," his eyes darkened for a moment in thought, before continuing, "but it is strong, and does not bow under hardships."

"Sounds like a nice place to live."

"It is. Though further out and more isolated than many people prefer. We are somewhat self-sustaining that way."

Second anon just wanna let you know they're still following the updates as well! (I wasn't sure if we were allowed to comment in the fills section =X)

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

Re: Sneezes and Other Physiological Responses [5/5]

Re: Tutorial [5/5]

[Fill] Overprotective big brother Federico

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Re: [Fill] Overprotective big brother Federico [3/3]

Two Eagles (119/?)

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Fill: A Long Time in Coming

A Long Time in Coming- Prologue

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 1/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 2/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 3/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 4/?

Fill: A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 5/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 6/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 7/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 8/?

A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 9/?

Re: Two Eagles (124b/?)