“No, I do not.” Altaïr said, and then relaxed further into the cushions. He was tired, his mind had hardly enough energy to find a key when he had no idea what it might be. It would have to be close though, the Piece of Eden always made sure it was close. Perhaps it was Malik. It was most likely to be Malik. But in what way?
“There is no way that I would ever become your lover. Besides finding you unattractive in all ways I also do not hold such... unnatural desires.” Malik sniffed. “And you cannot be from the future, as that is impossible.” He fumbled for a new quill, dipping it again into his ink. If it weren't for Altaïr's knowledge of Malik's 'unnatural desires' and how he had fostered them from a young age he would almost believe the self-assured statement.
“Ah, but you do have desires. You yourself will tell me. All in due time, of course.”
Malik scowled and muttered a violent denial under his breath.
“...And yet you still do not believe me.”
The youngest of them whipped around on his pillow. “Of course I do not!”
Altaïr eyed Malik's frame, tense with fuming anger, and once again reminded himself to keep his mind in the future rather than the present.
“Well no, I suppose that a man would have to live through the act of falling in love to ever understand it.”
“Always the philosopher, aren't we, Altaïr?” Malik twisted back to his desk and tried his best to concentrate on his work. “Now leave me. Can't you see I have work to do? And I would return Grand Master Al Mualim's robes before you are found with them.”
“It started with an apology.” Altaïr hummed, and ignored Malik's command – it was only safe to stay in one place, and besides, Malik was the key. Somehow.
“An apology.” Malik mocked, and scratched out more words with his quill. By the sound of it this nib was far too blunt.
“Yes, and you forgave me. Well – you say that you did not, but in fact you will.”
“Your tenses are confusingly erratic.”
The slight tilt of Malik's head told Altaïr that he was listening intently, despite his comments.
“Then, when I became Grand Master I asked you to join me as an equal. You were only befitting the title.”
Malik did not re-dip his quill.
“However you believed that I was still trying to apologise; that I was not sincere. Though this is not true I still could not convince you to share with me this title. You became my right-hand man, an advisor and brother both in arms as in the brotherhood of the creed.”
“This does not explain how we were to become lovers.”
“How we are lovers.” Altaïr corrected. “And no, for that came later.”
“Oh, do go on.” Beneath the façade of sarcasm Altaïr could pick up on Malik's desire to hear more.
“As you wish.”
“I was being sarcastic.” Malik grouched, and for show took to writing a new line.
“I will be the judge of that.” Altaïr replied, and, when Malik remained silent as if ignoring him, smiled. “Love, as you may have heard, takes time to develop. As does trust, and one cannot stably exist without the other. Trust had begun to restore itself the moment I apologised to you, and despite many interruptions it steadily continued to bloom between us until I trusted you with me life and you trusted me with yours. All this time there was something between us. An object, and also a woman.” Altaïr paused to determine Malik's reaction to this. In his present – the future – Malik would protest that Maria ever troubled him. This Malik remained quite still. He was dreadful at pretending he was not listening.
3; The soothe [3/?]
“No, I am not.”
“You lie.”
“No, I do not.” Altaïr said, and then relaxed further into the cushions. He was tired, his mind had hardly enough energy to find a key when he had no idea what it might be. It would have to be close though, the Piece of Eden always made sure it was close. Perhaps it was Malik. It was most likely to be Malik. But in what way?
“There is no way that I would ever become your lover. Besides finding you unattractive in all ways I also do not hold such... unnatural desires.” Malik sniffed. “And you cannot be from the future, as that is impossible.” He fumbled for a new quill, dipping it again into his ink. If it weren't for Altaïr's knowledge of Malik's 'unnatural desires' and how he had fostered them from a young age he would almost believe the self-assured statement.
“Ah, but you do have desires. You yourself will tell me. All in due time, of course.”
Malik scowled and muttered a violent denial under his breath.
“...And yet you still do not believe me.”
The youngest of them whipped around on his pillow. “Of course I do not!”
Altaïr eyed Malik's frame, tense with fuming anger, and once again reminded himself to keep his mind in the future rather than the present.
“Well no, I suppose that a man would have to live through the act of falling in love to ever understand it.”
“Always the philosopher, aren't we, Altaïr?” Malik twisted back to his desk and tried his best to concentrate on his work. “Now leave me. Can't you see I have work to do? And I would return Grand Master Al Mualim's robes before you are found with them.”
“It started with an apology.” Altaïr hummed, and ignored Malik's command – it was only safe to stay in one place, and besides, Malik was the key. Somehow.
“An apology.” Malik mocked, and scratched out more words with his quill. By the sound of it this nib was far too blunt.
“Yes, and you forgave me. Well – you say that you did not, but in fact you will.”
“Your tenses are confusingly erratic.”
The slight tilt of Malik's head told Altaïr that he was listening intently, despite his comments.
“Then, when I became Grand Master I asked you to join me as an equal. You were only befitting the title.”
Malik did not re-dip his quill.
“However you believed that I was still trying to apologise; that I was not sincere. Though this is not true I still could not convince you to share with me this title. You became my right-hand man, an advisor and brother both in arms as in the brotherhood of the creed.”
“This does not explain how we were to become lovers.”
“How we are lovers.” Altaïr corrected. “And no, for that came later.”
“Oh, do go on.” Beneath the façade of sarcasm Altaïr could pick up on Malik's desire to hear more.
“As you wish.”
“I was being sarcastic.” Malik grouched, and for show took to writing a new line.
“I will be the judge of that.” Altaïr replied, and, when Malik remained silent as if ignoring him, smiled. “Love, as you may have heard, takes time to develop. As does trust, and one cannot stably exist without the other. Trust had begun to restore itself the moment I apologised to you, and despite many interruptions it steadily continued to bloom between us until I trusted you with me life and you trusted me with yours. All this time there was something between us. An object, and also a woman.” Altaïr paused to determine Malik's reaction to this. In his present – the future – Malik would protest that Maria ever troubled him. This Malik remained quite still. He was dreadful at pretending he was not listening.