Laying in bed, Malik rolled his eyes. “Because I do believe that I have encroached upon your marriage quite enough as it is. I don't want to be-” Altaïr pressed his hand over Malik's mouth, cutting him off.
“Maria and I are not married. And she entered into the Creed knowing of our relationship.” He leant down and kissed Malik's forehead. “She knows that my feelings for you will never venture into our bed and do not compromise my love for my family, and she knows that my love for my family will never compromise my feelings for you. You have so little faith.”
Malik bit at the soft flesh of Altaïr's hand sharply until he drew it away, grunting. “This is too close to your bed with her.”
They stared at each other for another moment, waiting for the other to back down.
“Do you need anything?” Altaïr eventually asked, ignoring Malik's comment. He rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
“Water, please.”
A small cup and large bowl of water was situated next to his head, which was propped up on a couple of stiff pillows.
“I am only caring for you.” Altaïr said gently and placed a miniature bell next to the water. “Ring if you need anything at all.”
When Malik closed his eyes to rest Altaïr left his side and the room, leaving the door ajar.
*
All day spent in bed was incredibly dull. The only excitement came in the panicked moments where the pain in his arm would become too great, but Malik quickly decided that he would rather be bored than experience that often and usually kept himself on a small dose of hashish oil to keep his mind slow and the pain numbed. He counted the flagstones stones piecing together the ceiling aloud to himself. Yusef burbled in the room next to his. Sometimes he cried.
By night time the bones of his arm had completely formed and he had succumbed to his morbid curiosity, pulling the blanket up to look at the bones lying there like a perfect anatomical representation, or some poor soul's abandoned and rotten body. Some invisible force kept them together. Even though he had picked up his forearm and waved it around slightly the small, delicate bones of his hand had somehow stayed intact and secure on the end, and the elbow restricted the movement as it would if wrapped in tendons. Malik hoped for a further development rather than a sudden halt in progression. He was quite sure that walking around with a skeleton arm dangling at his side was not going to make a good impression on the townspeople of Masyaf.
The ache in his arm was gone. Instead a bruising and sharper pain throbbed over the scar tissue where the flesh of his arm cut off and where the bone jutted out. Malik groped for the bell by his head and grasped it in a sloppy fist before ringing it. Yusef made a muffled sound of complaint. Maria entered, the baby suckling on her breast. Malik quickly averted his eyes.
“Some more oil, if you will.” He spoke, the snuffling and suckling noises louder now that he was aware of them.
“You haven't eaten since waking up. Would you like some broth?” Maria cradled her child and caressed his soft head with her thumb.
FILL [2.b/?]
Laying in bed, Malik rolled his eyes. “Because I do believe that I have encroached upon your marriage quite enough as it is. I don't want to be-” Altaïr pressed his hand over Malik's mouth, cutting him off.
“Maria and I are not married. And she entered into the Creed knowing of our relationship.” He leant down and kissed Malik's forehead. “She knows that my feelings for you will never venture into our bed and do not compromise my love for my family, and she knows that my love for my family will never compromise my feelings for you. You have so little faith.”
Malik bit at the soft flesh of Altaïr's hand sharply until he drew it away, grunting. “This is too close to your bed with her.”
They stared at each other for another moment, waiting for the other to back down.
“Do you need anything?” Altaïr eventually asked, ignoring Malik's comment. He rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
“Water, please.”
A small cup and large bowl of water was situated next to his head, which was propped up on a couple of stiff pillows.
“I am only caring for you.” Altaïr said gently and placed a miniature bell next to the water. “Ring if you need anything at all.”
When Malik closed his eyes to rest Altaïr left his side and the room, leaving the door ajar.
All day spent in bed was incredibly dull. The only excitement came in the panicked moments where the pain in his arm would become too great, but Malik quickly decided that he would rather be bored than experience that often and usually kept himself on a small dose of hashish oil to keep his mind slow and the pain numbed. He counted the flagstones stones piecing together the ceiling aloud to himself. Yusef burbled in the room next to his. Sometimes he cried.
By night time the bones of his arm had completely formed and he had succumbed to his morbid curiosity, pulling the blanket up to look at the bones lying there like a perfect anatomical representation, or some poor soul's abandoned and rotten body. Some invisible force kept them together. Even though he had picked up his forearm and waved it around slightly the small, delicate bones of his hand had somehow stayed intact and secure on the end, and the elbow restricted the movement as it would if wrapped in tendons. Malik hoped for a further development rather than a sudden halt in progression. He was quite sure that walking around with a skeleton arm dangling at his side was not going to make a good impression on the townspeople of Masyaf.
The ache in his arm was gone. Instead a bruising and sharper pain throbbed over the scar tissue where the flesh of his arm cut off and where the bone jutted out. Malik groped for the bell by his head and grasped it in a sloppy fist before ringing it. Yusef made a muffled sound of complaint. Maria entered, the baby suckling on her breast. Malik quickly averted his eyes.
“Some more oil, if you will.” He spoke, the snuffling and suckling noises louder now that he was aware of them.
“You haven't eaten since waking up. Would you like some broth?” Maria cradled her child and caressed his soft head with her thumb.
“And bread please, yes.”
She left the room. Malik heaved a sigh of relief.