Don't care about anon anymore. Sooooo, yeah, hi guys! This entire section is also just an excuse for Altair to kick someone's ass (since he does surprisingly little of that in this fill) and to get Ezio and him talking again. They're just STUBBORN IDIOTS!!
— He didn’t look up when someone sat across from him at the desk where neat and boxed (now with locks) documents and summons and orders sat in arranged order from most important to least important. Altair didn’t need to look up to know who it was though. It was obvious to him. It was in the way he breathed, and how the fabric and armor expanded and moved against each other, the way he sat, with just the slightest fidget, as if he expected Altair to explode in his face. Altair said nothing, simply kept his head bowed as he worked over once again what was best to say. He still didn’t have a clue actually but he couldn’t let what had happened continue to come between what he needed to do in respect to what had happened.
Altair tipped his head upward, the edge of his hood flashing yellow for that brief moment as the edge of his vision cause the colors of his Vision before they cleared as Altair fixed Ezio with a level gaze. “Hello brother,” he said at last, “I trust your mission was as successful as mine,” he put the smile into his voice though he was not actually smiling.
“It was. Though I confess, I have not heard of your success, brother,” he said the word cautiously and Altair frowned; this would not do.
Altair leaned forward and pressed his forearms to the table, “Silvestro is dead, I have two left on my list,” he said simply.
“That is good news.”
“Yes, soon I will back to where my most pressing matter is playing nanny to the Borgia and her son,” he said it almost sarcastically, though lightly as well. He truly did not mind the task, not anymore anyway.
“I could give the task to someone else,” Ezio apparently didn’t get it. What else was new?
“No no, it is fine,” he held up a hand then he sighed, “Ezio, I am sorry for my outburst before you left,” he hated apologizing. It meant he was wrong, and he hated being wrong almost as much as failure, and really they were often one in the same. But he would if he needed to, just as he would lie conveniently when he needed to, sleep with someone to keep them silent, threaten a man Ezio considered his friend. He would do all that too, and had, so now he was adding apologizing to that list of things he would do.
“Oh,” he honestly seemed surprised, which it itself was not a surprise since he knew Altair was not one to apologize.
“It was nothing you did,” he continued.
“Really? It seemed it was my fault at the time,” Ezio said mildly.
“No, I had done something stupid. I should not have taken it out on you,” Altair frowned under his mask.
“It must have been something very bad,” he said warily, watching Altair’s reactions carefully.
“Unforgivable, to all parties involved,” he said and watched Ezio blink as he admitted to this and wonder, no doubt, what it was he’d done. Of course he respected Altair enough to not ask and Altair did not share further, Ezio wasn’t ready yet and maybe he never would be. Then suddenly Altair stood, “Come with me?” it was phrased as a question but he knew Ezio would obey. Altair knew because he knew Ezio and he knew himself and that people like Ezio, while leaders themselves, wanted people to follow as badly as others wanted to follow them. So he wasn’t surprised when Ezio stood and followed him when he moved away from the table. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as they left the main room.
“Really now? I have yet to meet a mind reader,” Ezio says, his tone comes easier now, as if movement calms him, Altair wouldn’t be surprised if it does.
“Yes, and I know you’re still-” he doesn’t know which word to use here to not insult him. Afraid would be demeaning or anything like that would be a step too far. “Anxious,” he settles for, “about our last meeting.”
Re: Two Eagles (125/?)
—
He didn’t look up when someone sat across from him at the desk where neat and boxed (now with locks) documents and summons and orders sat in arranged order from most important to least important. Altair didn’t need to look up to know who it was though. It was obvious to him. It was in the way he breathed, and how the fabric and armor expanded and moved against each other, the way he sat, with just the slightest fidget, as if he expected Altair to explode in his face. Altair said nothing, simply kept his head bowed as he worked over once again what was best to say. He still didn’t have a clue actually but he couldn’t let what had happened continue to come between what he needed to do in respect to what had happened.
Altair tipped his head upward, the edge of his hood flashing yellow for that brief moment as the edge of his vision cause the colors of his Vision before they cleared as Altair fixed Ezio with a level gaze. “Hello brother,” he said at last, “I trust your mission was as successful as mine,” he put the smile into his voice though he was not actually smiling.
“It was. Though I confess, I have not heard of your success, brother,” he said the word cautiously and Altair frowned; this would not do.
Altair leaned forward and pressed his forearms to the table, “Silvestro is dead, I have two left on my list,” he said simply.
“That is good news.”
“Yes, soon I will back to where my most pressing matter is playing nanny to the Borgia and her son,” he said it almost sarcastically, though lightly as well. He truly did not mind the task, not anymore anyway.
“I could give the task to someone else,” Ezio apparently didn’t get it. What else was new?
“No no, it is fine,” he held up a hand then he sighed, “Ezio, I am sorry for my outburst before you left,” he hated apologizing. It meant he was wrong, and he hated being wrong almost as much as failure, and really they were often one in the same. But he would if he needed to, just as he would lie conveniently when he needed to, sleep with someone to keep them silent, threaten a man Ezio considered his friend. He would do all that too, and had, so now he was adding apologizing to that list of things he would do.
“Oh,” he honestly seemed surprised, which it itself was not a surprise since he knew Altair was not one to apologize.
“It was nothing you did,” he continued.
“Really? It seemed it was my fault at the time,” Ezio said mildly.
“No, I had done something stupid. I should not have taken it out on you,” Altair frowned under his mask.
“It must have been something very bad,” he said warily, watching Altair’s reactions carefully.
“Unforgivable, to all parties involved,” he said and watched Ezio blink as he admitted to this and wonder, no doubt, what it was he’d done. Of course he respected Altair enough to not ask and Altair did not share further, Ezio wasn’t ready yet and maybe he never would be. Then suddenly Altair stood, “Come with me?” it was phrased as a question but he knew Ezio would obey. Altair knew because he knew Ezio and he knew himself and that people like Ezio, while leaders themselves, wanted people to follow as badly as others wanted to follow them. So he wasn’t surprised when Ezio stood and followed him when he moved away from the table. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as they left the main room.
“Really now? I have yet to meet a mind reader,” Ezio says, his tone comes easier now, as if movement calms him, Altair wouldn’t be surprised if it does.
“Yes, and I know you’re still-” he doesn’t know which word to use here to not insult him. Afraid would be demeaning or anything like that would be a step too far. “Anxious,” he settles for, “about our last meeting.”
Ezio snorts, “I am not,” he says.