asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Entry tags:

assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only

Join or Die

✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

✩ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[I'm sorry that it's so short today... I'm just effing tired :( ]

For us to live, you had to die.

His father died when he'd been elven. Altair had watched as they executed him – his father's life to save a traitor's. His life to pay for a mistake – but it only left one suffering in the end. An elven year old boy who watched his father's beheading, blood staining the grounds as his head fell with empty wide eyes staring up the gray sky. A few years later it happened all over again. The man who'd been as dear to him as his own father died through his blade. Some thought of Al Mualim as a demon, corrupted by the Apple's power, his mind poisoned. For Altair, it wasn't that easy. He couldn't see evil now as he looked at the old man's broken body. All he saw was a man who taught him so much as a child a youth and later as an adult. The worst part was that Altair knew – in his twisted mind, Al Mualim didn't mean harm. He thought what he did was good, he thought he delivered peace. And Altair understood which made it even harder for him to breath now as he carried the corpse towards the pyre. He couldn't hate him and he didn't see a demon when he looked at him, just a man who wanted to do good with terrible methods.

He was eyed skeptical by several members of the Order, some of them still trapped within the artifact's magic, its invisible threads looped around their bodies and playing them like little puppets. Most of them were simply confused, scared maybe, as their Grandmaster had died and everything was at chaos. Others though believed Altair being the real traitor, corrupting their Master's mind and lulling him into doom, killing him in the end as if he'd been planing everything right from the beginning. Only a few knew the truth as they had fought by Altair's side, helping him to get into the fortress so he could meet his fate as he stood in front of Al Mualim, ready to find his death if he should fail. No one stopped him as he walked towards, laying their Master down onto the piled wood, his fingers brushing across the black robes and for a moment he thought he was only sleeping. Nobody was attending the funeral as it wasn't really one, his Brothers holding their distance - most didn't approve with burning him. As the sun slowly died and with the moon rising it was just him standing their, his Grandmaster's ashes still glowing a soft orange its heat reaching his skin, warming him.

He didn't turn around when he heard him slowly walking up to him. Malik stopped just shortly behind Altair – even he didn't dare to get any closer. He was silent for the longest of moments, the fire still cracking. "Sad are only those who understand", Malik said eventually. Altair's head felt just a bit heavier, his muscles tired and heart cold. He had his hood up, shielding him from the soft breeze blowing and from everybody's eyes watching him. He wondered how it was possible for Malik to be so spot on and his shoulders slumped down as he curled the fingers of his left hand into a tight fist. "You know what he always said? We're using lies to tell the truth while the Templars use them to cover the truth up", Altair murmured softly, his words carried away by the wind and sparks were dancing in front of him. He looked up into the dark sky, the wind bringing tears to his eyes. "It makes me wonder now which of those he did."

"Don't confuse yourself Altair. He was fooling us, betraying and compromising our Creed. You did the right thing in the right moment."

"And when the moment ends?"

"When the moment ends it's in the past. The past shouldn't weight you down."

They were quiet after that, both lost in their own memories, fighting their own inner battles. While Altair often enjoyed the silence, today it was just too loud for him to bear. "What are you doing here anyway?", he asked Malik in a raspy voice.

"We are one, Altair", and he thought he could hear the smile in his voice. "As we share the glory of victory-"

"-so too should we share the pain of defeat", Altair finished as it was the same Malik told him back in Jerusalem when he'd told him he was sorry.

"It seems today it's both. Victory and defeat", Malik murmured, placing one hand on Altair's shoulder, squeezing gently. It was actually nice not being alone also Altair was torn between shoving the other man away or relaxing underneath his touch. His muscles went tense anyway and for a split second he trembled, fearing for a moment that he wouldn't be able to control his emotions any longer. He swallowed it all down then and they stood there for a long time until it was deep in the night, the fire had long died and its warmth was gone. Malik had left eventually, leaving Altair by himself and when the ash had cooled down he took a fistful of it, stretching his arm out and then letting go, all of it, the gray flakes flying away with the wind just like the memory he had of a man that no longer existed.

Malik bby ;; I feel so sorry for him, he had nothing to do with it, the poor thing. Here's hoping Altaïr (or even Malik himself) will find some way to save the day. Can't wait for the next update!

It's... going to take a while before 21th!century-Altair and Malik will meet again =/

When he woke up it felt like as if somebody had hit him across the head with a hammer. The world was foggy and it took him a few seconds before he could find the strength to open his eyes. He blinked and the room was spinning as he was nauseas. He was on a drip-feed, laying in a bed in a complete white room. For a small moment his sluggish brain thought it looked straight from a horror movie. Altair wanted to rip off the tubes going to his nose, helping him breath but he found his hands restrained to the bed frame, soft leather manacles wrapped around his wrists and holding him in place. The soft noise of beeping filled the room, the lights dim and it seemed it was late in the evening. There was a window to his left and he could watch the city lying to his feet.

"I'm sorry for these."

Lucy pushed herself off the wall to his right side and Altair glared at her, gritting his teeth. "Then take them off", he told her, his eyes never leaving her frame as she slowly walked around the bed, watching the monitors and changing something on his IV. "I will in a moment." He didn't try pulling at his restraints – he always thought it looked ridiculous when they did it on TV. If he wanted to get out of here he wouldn't need his muscular strength but his mind. Now – first things first.

"What happened?" He licked across his chapped lips and his voice sounded hoarse, his throat was dry. Since it was already dark outside he assumed he'd been unconsciousness for at least a few hours. He sighed heavily and his head sunk a little further into the pillow – did they drug him? He felt almost too weak to move at all. "You had a small seizure", Lucy told him straight forward and Altair looked at her frowning, tilting his head to one side, eyes narrowing. "Uhm... what?" Lucy sighed and she rubbed her temple with one hand. "You see, I think-", she sighed again and her hand dropped back to the side of her body. "How much do you remember from today?", and she was holding his gaze, arms crossed in front of her chest.

Altair sighed and he closed his eyes, trying to brush the wafts of mist from his mind. "I remember... coming here. You picked me up", and his amber eyes opened again, glaring at her with actual betrayal. He had trusted her and learned one more time that no one could be trusted in this world anymore. It didn't mean it hurt any less. "I remember talking with Vidic...", he murmured and coughed, Lucy quickly reacting and holding up a glass filled with water and a straw inside so he could drink. After Altair swallowed she put the glass back onto the small table to his side. He looked back at her and for a short moment there were two Lucy's standing there, his vision blurring.

"Everything is just blank after that..." He remembered Malik but he didn't say it – maybe it was better if he would just keep it to himself. But he remembered him even if it wasn't much. A man he knew from his past but Altair couldn't say which past anymore. Vidic's words still echoed inside his head like a mantra and it was difficult to grasp their whole meaning as he didn't understand any of it yet. This shit was just too crazy too believe. But he would get there – he would get to the truth. He wondered what had happened between waking up and going to work and then coming here, as if somebody had just pushed him into some kind of weird parallel universe. "He said he could fix me", he added and now he did pull at his bindings even though it was just a bit but it really started to get uncomfortable and fuck, he just wanted to go home now.

"Yes he can. We can help you, Altair." Her eyes fell on his wrists. "I will take them off now. We've put them on so you wouldn't hurt yourself..."

"And here I thought I was some kind of prisoner", and Altair expected Lucy to laugh and wave him off, telling him how silly he was for thinking that but her lips turned into a grim line instead. "I'm not a prisoner, am I?", he pondered carefully and Lucy's hands flew across his skin, taking one wrist to release him. "You're not...", she shook his head, her voice soft and quiet.

"But?" Altair looked up at her and drew his hand towards his chest once his left one was free.

"There's no but", and his right hand was free was well. "We're really hoping for you to help us Altair", she was almost looking at him with pleading eyes. "It's a fair deal we offer. You help us and we help you."

That couldn't be true. Lucy might try convincing him nothing bad would happen but Altair knew better. He remembered Malik, staring at him with wide eyes. He had only gotten a few seconds to look at him, but he'd seen that he'd been beaten. "If I'm not a prisoner then what am I?", he asked her instead.

"I would hope for you to become a partner... some kind of business partner", she shrugged with her shoulders and walked around his bed, leaning next to the window with her arms crossed behind her back and she seemed smaller, more fragile... sad actually.

Sad are only those who understand.

Altair hissed with pain, his hand coming up to his temple. His head hurt, a sharp pain which felt like as if it would rip him in two. Lucy leaned her head to one side, her eyebrows rising with worry. "Everything alright?"

Altair nodded and swallowed a whimper, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I just... need a few... seconds", he groaned.

"What?"

"Just a few seconds", he said again and looked up at her, watching how she stepped closer, her hands placed onto the bed as she leaned forwards. "Altair...?" His eyes were flashing, turning bright and almost yellow for half a second. She pushed herself back, moving towards the door. "Maybe I should call Dr. Vidic..."

"What?", Altair called after her, turning in his bed. "What does that mean? Hey! Where are you going?" But she left without saying another word, almost fleeing the room and he could hear a key turning in a lock. Great. No prisoner, huh? Bullshit. Altair pushed back the blanket covering him and, oh joy, they stripped him off his clothes, leaving him wearing nothing but boxers and a white t-shirt. He was still weak on his legs as he stood and he walked towards the window. He was high above the ground and able to watch over the whole city. It was actually kind of a nice view. He'd always liked heights even when he'd been a kid, no tree or rock could ever be high enough for him not to climb and he often watched the birds passing through the sky, wishing he was one of them and free like an eagle.

"... I think he's Bleeding, or something", he heard a faint voice coming from the other side of the door and he turned a little.

"How's that possible? We didn't even start yet."

"I don't know, you tell me!"

The door flung open and he stood once more in front of Lucy who was followed by Vidic. His eyes narrowed at them and his hand turned into a tight fist as he gritted his teeth. "I see you're up and well?", he asked Altair, a delightful smile playing around his lips, looking like a kid on Christmas morning about to open all the presents.

He's like you and it was pure luck that we found him.

Vidic still smiled at him and Altair wanted to wipe it off his face forever. "So?", Vidic beckoned at him but he refused to get any closer. Altair slowly shook his head and the man sighed, turning towards Lucy. "This won't get us anywhere Ms. Stillman."

You don't know it yet but he's very dear to you.

Lucy took one step forward, sensing his distress. "Altair, he's here to help you. You had a seizure. That's nothing you should take easy. He just wants to do some tests with you, see if everything is functioning as it should be."

I wish we didn't have to drag him into this but you left me no choice.

Lucy slowly lifted her hand and it was only then that he realized he had reached the end of the room, slowly walking backwards and his shoulders met the cool glass of the window behind him. Lucy was looking at him as if he was a scared little fawn. He hated her pity, her fake sympathy.

"Altair... come on boy. Talk with me", Vidic smiled but his eyes narrowed, his mouth smiling but the rest of his face didn't show anything friendly at all.

Altair Ibn-la'Ahad meet Malik al-Sayf.

And something just snapped inside of Altair. "Fuck you", he told him and Vidic's eyebrows shot up in surprise, meeting the line of his hair. "Oh, I see", he told Lucy and focused back on Altair. "Do you realize you're not speaking English?"

Altair blinked – and blinked again, head tilted to one side giving the impression of a confused dog. "What?", he mouthed the word, all of his anger forgotten. "You're speaking Arabic. Very ancient Arabic I dare to say, a dialect not many are familiar with these days. So – could you please switch back to English?" Vidic made a small circling motion with his hand and while he was still smiling, he also looked a little annoyed. When nothing happened, Altair just standing there and staring back at them, he sighed and looked up the ceiling. "Ms. Stillman? A word outside please?"

Lucy looked from between Altair and Vidic and in the end, her eyes settled on Altair as she noted, her gaze never leaving his face. "Of course", she told him, following the man outside and into the hall.

When the door closed behind them, Altair slowly slumped down the window until he sat onto the ground. Earlier he wondered what had gone wrong between him getting up that morning and going to work and ending up here – he thought he kind of knew it now. It seemed as if he'd lost himself somewhere in between.

xxx

"I think we set something off earlier. He's starting to Bleed but I would rather see him in the Animus. We can control the Bleeding there – I don't want somebody like him loose. Do you understand?"

Lucy nodded slowly. "He's a wild beast Ms. Stillman and you should not pity him. I can see it in your eyes", Vidic warned her, then sighed theatrically. "It's always the same with you women. You see a hurt man and it's the same as if you see a cute little puppy. This is no puppy, he's a wolf and he wouldn't hesitate killing you. Men like Altair need a muzzle. He needs the Animus."

She swallowed again. "Yes Sir."

"Good. Now...", Vidic lowered his voice so it was barely just above a whisper. "Tell him we're going to do a few tests – just about everything that could get damaged during a seizure. If he agrees... you put him into the machine. Tell him it's for testing his brain function or something. I'm sure a bright young woman like you can think of something? He seems to like you better", Vidic grinned and Lucy felt sick to her stomach.

"You really want to go through with this?", she asked him even though she knew the answer. "Once he's woken up he probably won't remember anything from his life in the 21th century. You're going to erase his old personality, old memories." She shuddered a little and while Vidic had told her not to pity him, she did. Nobody should suffer such fate.

Vidic watched her, his hands crossed behind his back. "His whole life has been a lie – I'm just going to show him the truth."

I cannot handle these cliff hangers oh my god

UGH I am so curious as to where you will bring this story! I hope lucy stays sympathetic to altair and I wonder what happened to malik??? Oh gosh so many questions, but i will wait patiently!

;U; good job so far (I am also following it on ao3)

Malik groaned heavily when he came back to consciousness, blinking his eyes open as he was sitting on a chair. Something soft covered his face and it was hot, his head hurting and his throat felt like sandpaper when he swallowed. He rolled his shoulders and wanted to rub his face with both hands but he found he couldn't move them as they were secured behind his back and his wrists hurt as if he'd been restrained for far too long now. His lower back was hurting too and Malik realized it was dark fabric covering his face like a hood.

"Welcome back, Mr. al-Sayf", and he startled at the sudden sound of the voice booming loudly through the room he was sitting in, hammering into his head and adding to the pain. The voice sounded electronic as it came through an intercom and he turned his head towards the source. "Who is this?" The words came out as an raspy old sound and he wondered if somebody could understand him at all. His throat was dry, he needed water and Malik coughed, hunching his shoulders and leaning forward. "What do you want with me?", he added, his memories still foggy and he had a hard time to form a straight thought at all.

"Let's just say you're here as leverage", the voice told him. "I was hoping for you to help us with something." Didn't that sound bitter sweet?

Malik's head hung low between his shoulders, his body slumped forwards as he hardly had the strength to keep himself up right."What?", he thought he only mouthed the word but a soft chuckle followed soon and he realized he'd spoken out loud.

"You know...", the voice sounded heavily, "for someone with your background you made it pretty easy to capture you. Didn't you serve in Iraq?"

He shook his head again and fuck, the movement hurt and he could feel his pulse beating wildly inside his head. "What?", he asked dumbfounded again, not understanding a thing. "What the hell is going on?", he roared and pulled at his restraints, trying to free himself but it only caused the handcuffs to cut further into his skin. They were too tight and he must have struggled before, his flesh raw and hurting. The air became sticky underneath the hood.

"I just need to confirm who you are Mr. al-Sayf and we can move on. Born in Syria isn't that right?"

He nodded and wasn't even sure if they could see the movement. "And you immigrated to Iran shortly after with your parents?"

Again he nodded and he had honestly no idea why he did anyway as whoever it was speaking with him could just fuck themselves.

"They were killed weren't they? Because of the war? You and your brother were taken to the United States and placed in a children's home." There was a small pause. "Why where you brought here anyway?"

"We were injured. Needed medical treatment and surgery. They... couldn't do it there", Malik explained. This was clearly a misunderstanding and he kind of got the feeling they were thinking of him as an terrorist – he just couldn't come up with any other explanation than why he was here, getting asked all of these things.

"Oh yes, that's right. The building you were living in with your parents was destroyed due to a missile. It says here you were trapped underneath the debris for three days before soldiers found you. Mr. al-Sayf, may I ask a question?" Malik thought it was funny because there was no doubt they would ask anyway even if he'd say no. "Why did someone like you with your background serve in the military? You've learned the ugly sides of war at a very early age."

"Shut up", Malik muttered and his whole body jerked which almost caused him losing his balance.

"Your brother served as well. You and him weren't so lucky, were you?" He thought the voice sounded mocking and Malik gritted his teeth. He wanted them to shut up, to just leave him as the images of old memories invaded him like a storm, tearing through his body and leaving nothing but chaos behind. "You almost lost your arm at an ambush and were sent back home. That arm's still bothering you, isn't that right? You're taking really strong pain medication. One could almost think you're addicted to them."

"I need them", he pressed out between his lips, each word cutting into they memories and ripping them apart. "They help me functioning."

"They help you forget", the voice invaded the darkness, making it feel like as if they were able to look straight into his head. He slowly came to realize this was a planned thing, a planned kidnapping and he was currently held hostage – he could no longer hold onto the hope that they got the wrong guy because this... this was really him wasn't it? They were really looking for him with all the background they knew.

"Your brother was killed on his second tour. Three days before he was about to go back home. Oh! Today's the fourth anniversary of his death isn't it?" His said nothing to that, breathing heavily as nausea rolled across him like a heavy wave, drowning him and pulling him deeper. "That's really bad luck..."

"Shut up!" The words echoed in the empty room and Malik slumped back, swallowing heavily and rolling his head back, eyes set towards the ceiling. "Shut up...", he said again, quieter now and sweat was covering his skin like a thin sheet.

"Mr. al-Sayf", the voice sighed theatrically again, sounding maybe a bit disappointed, "There's no reason for you to feel so upset", and Malik could have punched them right then and there into the face. He imagined them smirking, all satisfied and smug about the fact he was at their mercy. "And there's nothing really to worry about."

"You've kidnapped and cuffed me to a chair." He didn't mention they had drugged him too. "And you tell me I don't have to worry?" He scoffed and pulled his shoulders up, shifting in the chair a bit. "Yeah, right. Look, I'm no terrorist, there's no reason for you to keep me like this."

"He's waiting for you Sir."

This was another voice just there, sounding small and distant as if the person wasn't speaking directly into the microphone but to whoever had just spoken with Malik. A second later he could hear some muffled voice, somebody was covering the intercom with their hand so he couldn't hear.

"- two guards." That was all he managed to make out before the voice returned speaking to him. "I can't believe there are two of you...", and Malik had no idea just what they were talking about. It sounded more like as if it wasn't meant for him to hear.

"Alright, alright." Malik nodded and he licked over his dry lips. "Just... just tell me what you want okay? This has to be a misunderstanding. Is it money you want? I don't have any, you've got yourself the wrong guy for that!"

"No, no. No money Mr. al-Sayf. I just need you for someone to remember."

"To remember?"

"Yes", and he could imagine them smiling.

A door opened and he startled and the light was switched on. He still couldn't see with the hood covering his eyes but it wasn't as dark anymore as it had been before. Footsteps were filling his ears as heavy boots walked across the floor and he just kicked at them since he could still move his legs – he wouldn't go down without a fight and his resistance earned him a hit to his head, an elbow meeting his eye and then another one, hitting him in the jaw. He groaned in pain, his head flung to the side and he could taste metal, blood pouring down his throat as his tooth had cut into his lip from the force of the blow.

"We don't like behavior like that Mr. al-Sayf. Stay calm and all will be explained soon."

Malik heard a soft 'click' and he assumed the intercom had been turned off now. There were two of them, he could feel them standing just behind him, could hear the faint rustling of fabric as they breathed. The men with him in the room said nothing but one firm hand was placed on his shoulder and pulled him upright against the chair again. He didn't say anything at all, his erratic breathing reverberating from the naked walls of the room. He had no idea how long he waited there but he felt weaker within the minute. The hood covering his face made the air sticky and hot, sweat tickling him at the back of his neck and his jaw and eye hurt, as did most of the rest of his body.

Time passed and he heard another click, the sound of something moving and then there was that voice again, the guards to his sides shifting. "Show him please", and the hood was ripped of his face, bright light invading his eyes and making them water and his head hurt. He was sitting in front of a window and could see into the next room, two men and one woman sitting there and one of them he recognized.

Malik stared at him with wide eyes and then the man's eyes rolled back as his whole body started to tremble and he hit the ground soon. The woman uickly went to his side, feeling for a pulse and rolling him on his side, white foam starting to build in front of his mouth. She was speaking to the other man, making wild gestures. Malik realized something was going wrong, terrible wrong and another man walked into the room, all clothed in white with a black bag in his hand, kneeling down. The second man, the one with the beard and glasses turned towards the window, teeth clenched and his lips pulled into a grim line. His eyes found Malik's and he knew just then that it was the man he had talked to over the intercom. He pushed a button next to his side and the window went dark and Malik looked at his own reflection in the mirror.

A second later he heard another click, the same voice loud and so much colder now, "Make him ready."

xxx

"So what did Vidic want from you?"

Lucy closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it with her back, hands shoved into the pockets of her pants. She rubbed her fingers across her brow, taking a deep breath in. It had started raining again, the soft sound of raindrops pattering against the window the only noise which filled the room. Altair had pulled the cables off his body earlier and shut down the machine. Lucy shook her head. "We need to do some tests-" She said it as if she would ignore his question.

"The fuck you can!"

"- we wouldn't want to risk your health. We are a pharmaceutical company after all", she flashed him a small lop-sided smile but Altair didn't return it, his eyes as cold as ever as they roamed over her body. She looked fit, very fit and he thought he could actually see a six-pack underneath her tight t-shirt. Her shoulders were broad, she was working out that's for sure. He wondered how hard he had to hit her for her to lose consciousness. He throat was vulnerable, he could use the side of his hand, hitting her there – but that could also kill her. Altair blinked just then – this wasn't like him. Yes, he knew how to defend himself, he knew how to kill but he'd never looked at anybody like that, like a predator who knew the human anatomy very well, knew where to hit, where to inflict pain and how to kill.

Lucy pushed herself off the wall, rubbing her hands together. She either didn't notice his look or didn't want to show him that she did, but right now she kept he friendly façade. "You're still speaking Arabic", she told him and ah, that explained why she didn't answer his question nor flinch when he insulted her. He didn't really notice speaking it. He just did, not paying much attention to how the words sounded coming out of his mouth, if Arabic or English. "That's probably because of your seizure", she made a small waving motion with her hand and then held it out to him. "I can help you. We can fix this", she told him emphatically and his eyes fell on her outstretched hand and he thought he could see it trembling.

He weighted his options and decided just then and there. He shook his head – even she would understand that. No, he wouldn't let them do any tests. No, he didn't want her help. No, Vidic could just fuck off. In the far distance he could hear thunder crawling through the sky. "Please", she tried to reach out for him, to grasp his shoulder but he shook her off and knew just then that she came to realize she'd lost his trust. "Come on – don't make me do this." Her voice was almost pleading now and he scoffed because she acted as if she had actually a chance to convince him working with them. Again he shook his head and made to walk pass her, pushing her aside as he reached for the door handle but she placed one hand firmly on his chest, holding him back. "You don't have any clothes, you can't go outside like this", and he looked down his body. Altair shrugged with his shoulders, he didn't care and if he had to walk naked out there, he would because every step would bring him further away from these people. "Wait for me here. I get you something to wear", she told him softly and pushed against his chest, bringing more distance in between them. He felt more like a trapped animal with everybody acting as if his fate was already sealed.

"Let me go."

"Altair..."

"Now!"

She flinched, her shoulders slumping. "I'll get you some clothes", she muttered once more and she couldn't manage anymore to hold his gaze, looking down on his chest where his collarbone was. "I'll be right back", she told him and her voice was small and fragile as if something inside of her was breaking apart. Her hands reached behind her back, searching for the door handle without looking and she slipped out of the room, locking him inside again.

He could have just grabbed and pushed her to the ground and yet he didn't. He could have easily overpower her, he could have taken her hostage, he could have – he could have done so much and yet he hadn't moved one single muscle in his body, not even his little finger. All which was left was the feeling that sometimes an alley could look like an enemy and it felt like a déjà vu. The back of his head prickled with old faded memories, emotionless and faceless, empty images whirling inside his head mostly black.

He could hear a hissing noise, like the angry snarl of a snake just above his head and Altair looked up, soft mists of bright white smoke filling the room. His eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth, his hands turning into tight fists.

What a fucking bitch.

Oh my god this plot is turning so dark so fast but i love it omg what are they going to do :((( malik and altair :((((((

I hope Lucy sort of helps idk?? I can only wait and find out. Ugh poor malik and altair I just feel so bad but i...YES? UGHH i can't wait till they meet again like...with all this happening what can they do :((

"Welcome to the Animus."

It was the last he heard, white fog engulfing him as he made his way through the mists and the world came tumbling down, breaking apart only to be re-built within the blink of an eye. He stood in the middle of a courtyard, the sound of steel hitting steel piercing his ear, men shouting and goats bleating. It was cold and the ground wet as he set one foot in front of the other. Altair looked down on his hands, his nails dirty. It was early in the morning and the sun was slowly crawling up the sky but today it was covered by thick gray clouds almost touching the ground and swallowing the earth. He made his way towards the stables and beyond them, walking down a small hill with grass covered by first frost. He kept walking until he reached an old abandoned field, a small stable underneath a large oak tree in the far distance which had once been used to hold sheep. Behind the stable was a small creek which had been a river but as the last few summers had been hot with hardly any rain at all it was almost completely dried out by now. Altair stepped into the stable, the wood musty and old and the smell of sheep and hay still lingered in the air.

He could sense him approaching before he felt the hand on his shoulder, a hard push to his back sent him stumbling forwards – it wasn't much to make him lose his balance, it needed a lot more than that so Altair moved with the push, rolling his shoulder and turning slightly to the side, changing the position of his feet on the ground and leashing at him with his arm. He saw it coming and Altair's hand met empty air as he put one foot between his legs and Altair tripped over it and for a moment, lost his focus. Hands placed on his chest, pushing him back until he met the stable's wall and he snarled, angry at himself for falling for such an easy trick trying to wedge his own foot behind his knee and pressing back against him, trying to send him to the ground. But he was pushing back, his chest like a wall he couldn't break through and then, just like that, he gave away and stepped back but there was still Altair's foot and he lost his balance. For a moment, a smirk caressed Altair's lips but it only lasted for maybe half a second as his fingers curled in the front of Altair's robes, pulling Altair with him to the ground. They landed in a tangled heap of limbs and chaos, clawing at each other as each one of them tried to keep the upper hand, rolling over the dirty cold floor, forgotten pieces of hay sticking to their clothes and mud rubbing into the fabric. It was Altair who was on his back and he knocked him over, his elbow meeting his ribs and it changed everything once more with Altair straddling his hips, reaching for his wrist to pin it against the ground next to his head. They were both panting now, their breaths gathering in small white clouds in front of their mouthes and for a few seconds, nothing happened as they glared at each other. Altair was leaning down as a pair of eyes roamed over his face and he smirked, pushing his hand back to the ground forcefully as he made another attempt to get free. Their lips were almost touching now and he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye but it was too late to react. The knee hit him in the back and he slumped forwards, loosening his grip of his wrist for just half a second but it was enough for him to free himself. The tables were once more turned, only now he found himself on his stomach, his arm pinned painfully behind his back.

"Enough of that", he growled into Altair's ear, his breath splashing like small waves against his skin and it send a small shiver down his spine. He didn't answer but gritted his teeth and he only pushed his hand higher up between his shoulder blades, sending a new bolt of pain through his body. Altair groaned and he tried to hit him but he just changed his position, pressing his knee down onto his backside to keep him perfectly pinned to the ground. His body bucked underneath his hold as he tried to shake him off before he laid still, breathing heavily and the silence was too loud. A few seconds later Altair tried it again and once more it was no use. In the end he kept laying there, a thin sheet of cold sweat covering his brow. He waited for Altair to calm down, leaning down to his ear. "Do you behave now?"

When he said nothing and after several minutes had passed without him trying to get free again, he let go of Altair's arm and slowly got up. Altair turned around and on his back, looking up at him and eyed the hand in front of him, grabbing it to get up. Their clothes were dirty, the both of them panting, glaring at each other. He didn't know who moved at first, maybe they both did but it didn't matter in the end as he closed his arms round him, their lips meeting in a kiss. Altair framed his face with both hands as he didn't want him to go, their tongues meeting in a slow dance, whirling around each other, invading each other's mouths in small waves. He almost melted underneath those lips, warmth spreading through his body and chasing away the cold. His heart was beating wildly and not just because of the adrenaline shooting through his veins because of the previous fight but of a whole different reason. He'd waited too long for this and now that the moment was there, he didn't want it to end, not ever. But they had to part eventually, both gasping for air as they had stolen each other's breath.

Malik was the first to move, taking a step back and bringing some distance between their bodies, Altair's hands falling from his face. Malik shook his head, "No." Altair held his breath and slowly released the air between his lips as he tried to close the gasp between them but Malik held him at arm's length. "This has to stop", he hissed and his fingers closed above the fabric of Altair's robes and his arm slowly sunk down before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "You're right", Altair nodded, lips pressed to a thin fine line. "I'm getting tired of letting you win all the time."

Malik groaned, then scoffed and resisted the urge to just roll his eyes at the younger man. "Don't turn this into some joke Altair."

"I'm not", he insisted and tried again to get close to him but Malik turned away. "What is this today?", he pondered with a hint of worry and he went pale as he finally realized. Malik couldn't meet his eyes, not this time and his shoulders were stiff. "Why?", Altair asked him, voice thin.

"And here I thought you're not a novice anymore. Are you that ignorant to not see it?" Malik wiped his face, turning around to face him, their eyes meeting and the look he saw in them hurt Altair probably more than he would ever be able to admit. "This", Malik gestured between the two of them, "is wrong. It's forbidden."

"You're telling me I'm ignorant and yet you use the same foul lies the Templars would tell us?"

"Are you calling me a Templar?"

"No. But nothing is true and-"

"-and everything is permitted. Don't hide behind those words. This has gotten over our heads. If nothing is true then-"

"Don't." Altair interrupted him, a sick ugly feeling of boiling anger rising within him, the bitter taste of bile burning his throat. "Don't you dare to say it."

"Then how do you know this", and again he nodded at Altair, then looked down his own body, "isn't just another lie?"

He blinked at him, dumbfounded. "I just do", he said quietly and he reached for Malik's hand, their fingertips touching but the other man pulled away. "But you don't trust me", he added a moment later, Malik's rejection feeling like a stab to his heart. Malik said nothing and while flames of betrayal and hurt licked across his skin, threatening to eat him alive he didn't move at all, wasn't even flinching. Instead Altair's eyes just grew cold. "No you don't", he voiced what Malik couldn't say. "And I thought you weren't one of them."

At that Malik looked up. "One of them?", he pondered, his fingers curling into a tight fist and Altair knew they were just at the brink of another fight.

"A fucking sheep", he spat and lost his control for just a small moment but it was enough for Malik to know what he just did to him. "A mindless, little sheep following the shepherd without questions as long as they're well fed. Look at you, you're almost choking on all those lies they feed you."

"Be careful of your next choice of words They might be your last before I rip your tongue out." Malik was practically fuming with rage and Altair knew he was pushing the older man. He just wanted him to hurt as much as he did at the moment, wanted to punish him, to make him suffer. He wouldn't step back, he wouldn't lose his ground in front of Malik. "Then prove me wrong", he hissed and he closed the distance between them with one large step, curling his fingers around Malik's shoulder and shoving him backwards. "Tell me this isn't true", he snarled, his body pressing up against Malik as he pushed him back still until Malik couldn't move any further, the wall blocking his escape route.

"It isn't true."

"You're a liar", Altair whispered, their faces so close they were breathing the same air, lips almost touching once more. Malik didn't move for a long time, just kept breathing heavily through his nose, his face pulled into an ugly angry mask.

"You're an ignorant", he said eventually and Altair's fist twitched but he didn't punch him. He let go of Malik's collar, his hands slowly sinking and he simply stared at him for the longest of times.

"So that's your decision?", he asked in a small voice, the words hoarse and heavy and in fact it did feel like as if they pulled him towards the ground as his legs grew weak. Altair stepped away, his voice thin and worn out, "I'm leaving tomorrow in two weeks. Master sends me on a mission to France. He told me this morning."

Malik simply nodded and Altair waited for him to say something, anything but the man pressed his lips tightly together and he knew getting Malik to talk was mostly an impossible task. "Is that how it is?", he asked him as he couldn't stand his silence any longer. Malik closed his eyes, sighing deeply and when he looked back up, he stared right over Altair's left shoulder at the opposite wall.

Altair nodded. "So be it", and he turned around, leaving the stable and the man inside behind him.

Oh mai.
I am... struck and captivated, and cannot wait to see what happens next.
well done ser Anon. Well done.

He was sitting on the edge of a roof, crouched and hands dangling between his legs as his target was about to leave the small tavern to his feet, the moon high in the sky and the air cold. His hidden blade came to live, his finger twitching nervously and activating the mechanism of the weapon when he was watching the man stumbling outside and onto the street, clearly drunk from too much wine. This late of the night, there were only a few up, mostly drunkards trying to walk home as it was the beginning of the week their money quickly spent on alcohol, or guards patrolling the streets of Le Mans. So far it was quiet and he was sitting in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

The man was old, early forties and he was using the whole street as he walked -stumbled- home, singing a song Altair didn't know and his words were sluggish, his tongue heavy by the wine he'd had. His eyes never stopped leaving the figure and he stood slowly, making his way over the roofs tops, jumping across street canyons as his target was heading towards the poor district – he was a noble man, his way should lead him to his home in the rich district. Altair though knew what business he had there and he was determined to catch him first. He'd spent the last month in France, always feeling like as if he was hunting nothing but the shadow of a man. A week ago he was able to gather important informations about the man he was after and learned that he was currently staying in Le Mans after he'd been searching for him in Paris. So, he traveled France's roads and made it to the city three days ago. He spent yesterday and the day before with observing his target, learning its routine and decided quickly to strike today as it was Monday and he was known for liking to spend his money on good wine and women to start the week.

Altair run ahead as he knew exactly where his target would turn into a small aisle, the shadows dark enough to swallow Altair when he would start his attack. He stopped, suppressing the urge to take deep breaths of air to keep silent. He could hear a dog barking in the distance, a hoarse whinnying. He watched his target turning into the small street, then stopping and leaning heavily against a wall. Altair cocked one eyebrow and watched how he emptied his stomach, the sound of vomit splashing on the ground loud in the night's silence. His face wrinkled up into a mask of mild disgust and he rubbed over his mouth, slowly crawling towards the edge of the roof and looking down. His target stretched his back, shoulders rolling and spitting on the ground several times before he continued his way towards Altair. When he was close enough, the assassin jumped.

Altair caught him by surprise, of course he did, and he took his target with him to the ground, his blade piercing through his shoulder. The wound wasn't enough to kill him but sure hurt like hell. He pressed his palm quickly over his mouth, muffling the sounds of cries as pain ripped through the man's body and he leashed at Altair who just ducked underneath his hand, connecting his elbow with the man's back knocking all the air out of his lungs. He sat up and crawled backwards, eyes wide and his back met a wall. Altair curled his finger in his collar and pulled him up, his target slumping heavily against the wall with his palm covering his shoulder, blood running through his fingers and staining the ground to their feet. Altair pressed close, his elbow across his chest near his throat and he wouldn't hesitate to increase his hold to keep him from breathing. "Keep quiet Alain de Sablé or I swear I will cut your throat", he hissed into his ear, turning his shoulder to press against the wound, the man's hand trapped underneath it. It earned him a hiss of pain but he kept still, wide eyes meeting Altair's in the dark.

Only when he was sure Alain wouldn't struggle he slowly let go of his hold, his hidden blade ready to end his life should he make a wrong move. Alain's breath brushed over his face, smelling like vomit and cheap wine and Altair breathed through his mouth. "Pourquoi tout ça, blasphémateur?", he snarled at him, eyes narrowed and face painted with pure agony as he watched Altair.

Altair's hand moved quickly, his fist meeting Alain's stomach, sending him toppling over and causing him to empty his stomach in front of Altair's feet again. Undigested pieces of bread clung to his lips as he looked up again, the muscle in his cheek twitching. "Tu pousses un peu!"

"Stop insulting me and I will", Altair told him in a low voice, pulling the man by his collar and manhandling him deeper into the shadows, pushing him in front of his body and kicking his legs so he fell to his knees, looking up at Altair. "What I want is information. Whatever it is you can tell me might be worthy enough for me to spare your life. Now...", and he held his hand close to Alain's throat, his hidden blade jumping forwards almost touching his vulnerable skin. "Your cousin. Tell me about him."

Alain looked up at him dumbfounded before his lips pulled back into an ugly grin. "My cousin?", he slurred, his arm hanging useless to the side of his body as it pained him too much to move his limb with the puncture wound in his shoulder. "If- if you have business with my c- c- cousin I suggest you talk with him not me."

"Tell me where I can find him and I shall follow your proposal."

Alain shook his head, a low chuckle crawling up his throat and spilling over his lips in an empty breath. "If that's what you want you're wasting your time, assassin. I'd rather die than telling you his whereabouts."

Altair narrowed his eyes at him, adding more pressure to his hold and the man winced with pain. "You'd rather die for a man who fucked your wife and killed your child?", he asked in disbelieve. "What a pathetic fool you are", he snarled. "Do you have no honor at all?" Of course he didn't have honor and Altair cocked one eyebrow at him. He thought a man with honor wouldn't spent his money on women and alcohol and emptying his stomach in the middle of the street for everybody to see. A man with honor would keep his head up with pride.

Alain spit to his feet, a mix of bread and blood landing right in front of Altair's boots. "You have no idea what you're talking about boy", he muttered. He grinned empty and hollow. "You're not equal to Robert. You're chasing a monster and talk about honor. If you're a man of honor yourself you can't beat him. You two don't play the same game."

Altair's gaze washed over Alain's face, his head tilted to one side as he mused over his words, turning them this way and that way in his head, trying to find the connecting pieces until the picture would be whole. There were still too many missing parts and he brought his blade closer to his throat, nicking the first layer of skin. "Robert has been traveling forth and back between Egypt, England and France, the Order is moving underneath his commands. Why? What's he looking for?"

Alain looked up at him with glassy eyes, his look distant. "He's looking for heaven", he slurred and he was moving with speed Altair hadn't thought to be possible in his current physical state. He ducked underneath Altair's blade and yanked up his arm, his elbow meeting Altair's wrist and he was on his feet within a second. The sudden movement was something he hadn't expected and it was enough for Altair to lose his focus for the smallest of moments as Alain kicked at his legs, sending him stumbling backwards. His fist connected with the assassin's jaw, sending his head flying the other direction and made Altair see stars. Out of the corner of his eye Altair could watch a silver shadow piercing through the darkness and he jumped back, the small digger missing his throat by mere millimeters. He didn't have enough time to gather himself as Alain was jumping onto him and he fell back onto the ground, his back and head hitting the stone. He was dizzy and felt the cold steel of the weapon pressed to his throat.

He watched Alain's face hovering above his own through a thick fog, his vision blurring. The man leaned his head to one side, a mocking smile standing on his lips. "Never underestimate your enemy boy", he smiled down on him, his words not sluggish at all but perfectly clear. "You think I don't know you're chasing me? You think I haven't heard about the man in White looking for me?" He spit down on him, the bloody saliva running down his cheek and Altair glared at him with angry eyes, gritting his teeth. "I'm Alain de Sablé you fucking salope. Just as my cousin I'm a member of the Templar Order too and I won't let some stray tell me what I have to do. One day, you're arrogance will be your downfall." Alain leaned in closer, Altair's eyes almost crossing with how close they were and all he could see was that ugly grin of the man above him. He tried to kick at him to hit him in the back with his knee but Alain just shifted his weight, avoiding easily his attempt to throw him of. He withdrew the dagger from his throat, the tip of the blade trailing down his chest and across his stomach and stopped just above his crotch. "Move again and I castrate you like the dog you are." Blood was spilling down on Altair from the wound of Alain's shoulder, staining the man's wrist in which he held the small blade, making the hilt slippery. "You think I hold some grudge against my cousin for fucking my cheating wife and killing that bastard child of her?" His grin only widened. "I was there, watching them and I loved the look on her face when I punished her for her trying to make me believe it was my seed which filled her womb. I bet your informant didn't tell you I slit her throat, did he?" And fuck, no that was new information for him and Altair tried to remember he would sought out the man and make him pay dearly for his mistake of not telling him everything. "Your little plan didn't work... I won't tell you a thing."

Altair shifted his weight underneath him, his shoulder rolling from where Alain's hand was pressed against it, sending a wave of pain up his arm and to his wounded shoulder. It was enough for the man to lose his focus and Altair grabbed his wrist, the dagger falling from his fingers and Altair connected his forehead with Alain's, sending him falling backwards and twisted his arm behind his back. He managed to get the upper hand again, straddling his hips and his hidden blade pierced the skin of his throat, entering deep. Everything was so fast that Alain could just stare at him with wide eyes, disbelieve written all over his face. The world turned gray, the fog swallowing Altair and Alain and made him forget everything around them. "It seems you forgot who you're speaking with", he muttered in a deep hoarse voice, breathing heavily.

Alain was dying.

It was only a question of time for how long it would take for him to bleed to death but Altair only had a few more minutes left until his heart would stop beating. "This is your chance to come off clear with all your sins. Tell me what I need to know and meet your god with a chaste soul."

Alain wheezed underneath him, blood slowly entering his lungs making him suffocate. "No god can save me", he whispered and Altair had to lean closer in order to understand him. It seemed his blade had nicked his vocal chords as well, making it difficult for the Frenchman to speak. "It's too late... we're almost there. Robert found the location of it. Soon he will hold Heaven in his hands." Alain's eyes rolled back and he closed them, taking a deep shuddering breath but he made a gargling noise and a stream of blood spilled over his lips and down his throat. He cracked his eyes open once more.

"You're speaking in riddles", Altair snarled angry at him. "What did he find and where? I will end your misery if you tell me."

But Alain only laughed at him, at least he tried as it was just a breath escaping his throat. "Robert's with JHWH..." His eyes rolled back once more and his breathing became more short and turned erratic.

"No...", Altair said slowly and shook his head. "JHWH is where I'm going to send you now" He looked down on him, one eyebrow arched. He brought his blade close to Alain's throat once more and pushed forward, his life ending within half a second. Altair pulled out a feather from one of his pouches, pulling it through the man's blood, the white turning red as the feather was dripping with it. He stood up, hovering over the corpse and as he looked down on him he knew what he had to do as they pieces of his words finally made sense.

UUUUUAHHHHHHHHHHHhhhh

oh man have i told you i always liked your action scenes?? you describe them so well! UGH And i love your altair! You write him so good, really!

lksfvg;lrg the plot is thickening I GOT SO EXCITED TO SEE THE UPDATES!! I really enjoy your dialogue too, it's so real like I can hear altair say them in my head when I read.

i screamed/liveblog to my friends lkrfler they must be sick of me by now freaking out over these fics ahaha but it's so good how can I not??

I can't wait to see what happens next!!!

This wasn't love, this wasn't sex – he was fucking her, that's all. No more, no less. No emotions involved, he didn't care for her and he fucked her just like that using her body for one purpose and one purpose only, to satisfy his needs. He didn't aim for her pleasure, didn't care if she liked what he did. She was either a good actor or she really was enjoying his rough touches, the fingers wrapped around her neck when he pressed her face into the mattress as she was on her knees and he thrust into her almost violently. He didn't like watching their faces, never did. He couldn't stand it when he saw their eyes, couldn't stand it when they tried to kiss him. Kisses were for lovers, not for whores. She met his thrusts and pushed her hips backwards as he moved in and out of her, her moans filling the room while he hardly made a sound at all. Skin slapping against skin, wet bodies touching, nails raking over limbs, scratching, biting, searching.

In the end he didn't come, pulling out of her and kneeling for a few more moments behind her naked form, breathing heavily and running his fingers through sweat soaked hair. She turned around, her cheek still pressed against the mattress, eying him and her gaze almost burnt him. “What's wrong?”

He looked at her, his lips moving but no sound came. He got off the bed, reaching for his clothes and got dressed quickly. “What's wrong?”, she asked again, her voice rising with confusion and she sat up, pulling her knees underneath her body, wrapping the blanket around her body to hide from his sight. Altair would have almost scoffed. He looked at her, cold eyes burning into hers and he reached for the small pouch on his belt, placing a few coins on the small table right next to the door. It was enough money to pay for the whole night. She called after him but he didn't pay her any attention at all as he made his way through the brothel and out onto the streets of Paris.

Altair wiped his face, his hood up shielding him from curious eyes and turning him into a faceless shadow. He'd no idea why he went there, why he sought a woman's warm touch. Sex wasn't even that important to him, in all honesty it often rather bored him. It was a physical need which was necessary every now and then but nothing he truly enjoyed. Most of the times he tried to ignore it, knew no good would come of it ever since-

No. None of that. No thoughts about him. It was neither the right time nor the right place to think about it. He was on a mission, his master counting on him – he wouldn't disappoint Al Mualim, wouldn't let himself get distracted any further. It was bad enough he'd visited a brothel, in the end it only felt degrading.

Altair returned to the small room he currently stayed at, renting it for small money right above the small shop of a blacksmith. It was late the night and he would depart tomorrow morning and return to Masyaf to deliver the news.

When he opened the door Altair knew instantly something was off and he scanned the chamber, his eyes soon falling on a figure sitting on his bed. He felt for his throwing knives, about to pull one small dagger out and aiming for the person sitting there but it wasn't the blade that cut through the silence, but the figure's smooth velvet voice. “That's no way to greet old friends.” Altair still throw his knife and it hit the mattress right next to the man's thigh but he chuckled unimpressed.

“No, it's my way of greeting you”, Altair muttered and walked through the dark room, reaching for an lamp and lit it, the oil burning quickly His face was instantly illuminated by a soft glowing orange, the flame trembling and creating flickering shadows across the walls. The bed creaked when he moved, getting off and walking towards the young assassin, hand laying on Altair's shoulder to turn him around. “You lack some manners then”, he muttered, eyes roaming over his face and he cupped his jaw, his thumb brushing over Altair's scar. “I should teach you some”, he added as he leaned towards, closing the distance between them and consuming Altair's mouth with a kiss.

He punched him in the guts and the man groaned, stumbling backwards and rubbing his palm over his stomach. “You don't touch me like that”, Altair told him and his fingers got already busy to remove his chestplate. Another of his chuckles filled the room and he sat back on the bed, leaning heavily on his elbows as he watched Altair removing his belt and red sash, folding the latter neatly and placing it on top of the armor which now lay on the table. “No”, he said nonchalantly and waved his hand, “I just fuck you.”

“You missed me Saleh?” Altair stared at him, his robes gaping and revealing a flat stomach with a soft trail of hair leading from his navel further down and underneath the waistband of his trousers.

“I missed your mouth around my cock.”

“Can you even get it up old man?” Saleh looked at him, lips pressed tightly together. It wasn't like Altair said something which wasn't true. Saleh was old, could be his father actually, his hair already turning gray and looked just as silver as the moon's light. It was a sight he'd rather forget. Saleh snorted at him and rolled his head from one side to the other, the ordinary clothes of nothing but a man seeming strange on his body.

“How long has it been now boy? Three years? Four?”

“Five”, Altair said unimpressed, sitting down on the chair to remove his boots and he groaned when his feet were finally free as they hurt from the day. He leaned back and eyed Saleh skeptical. “So how come you are here?”, Altair asked, his whole body radiating distress. He didn't want him here, he didn't want to see Saleh's face, didn't want to waste his energy speaking with an outcast. Somebody who waited for Al Mualim's heart to turn soft again to welcome him back into the Order – they both knew no such thing would ever happen as Saleh was forced to live in exile with no chance to ever return. Still, he clung on to that hope and maybe that was his way of staying sane – so who was Altair to judge?

Saleh just smirked and lowered his head, eyes hidden from Altair's sight. “I count nine fingers. So you've finally achieved your blade. You father would be proud”, and Altair gritted his teeth, hating it with all his guts whenever he was talking about his father, bringing his ghost back from the dead to the living. “But it seems you still lack an assassin's ability when it comes to going unnoticed. There were rumors filling the lands, Altair, rumors about a white ghost leaving a trail of blood behind. I followed your trail and look who I found? The boy I turned into a man. I'd call it destiny wouldn't you agree?”

“I'd call it misfortune.”

Saleh sighed and placed one hand to his chest, falling onto the mattress with his back first and staring up the ceiling. “Uhg, I'm hurt boy, I'm deeply hurt.” He looked at him again, propping himself up using one of his elbows. “What is it with you? Normally you would have been already on your knees sucking my dick and yet you're still sitting there with too much clothes on. That needs to change.”

Altair just shook his head, swallowing every threat down which was about to leave his lips and roll over his tongue. “Just... go Saleh. Go wherever you came from. Whatever it is you're seeking I assure you it's not here”, he sighed and wiped his face with one hand, peering at the older man through his fingers. Saleh's eyes grew cold and distant and his face wrinkled up as he sat and looked at Altair. “Ah”, he said and licked across his lips, rubbing the back of his head, “you see I'm very disappointed.”

“Why is that?”

Saleh slowly turned to Altair and straightened his back, making it even more visible that he was at least two heads bigger than the young assassin. “After all I've done for you and after we finally meet each other again I thought I would get a warmer welcoming and not getting kicked out”, he stood up walking towards Altair. His muscles tensed and his fingers curled into a fist when he craned his neck to look up at Saleh in order to meet his eyes. If it was needed he would defend himself, if it was needed Altair was ready to kill, no matter if old friend or not. Saleh placed one hand onto the small table behind him, leaning down to Altair. “It seems you've forgotten why I'm here. It would have needed nothing more but a word and it'd be you in my position, cast out like a lousy dog. And why not? Because I made a promise to your father”, he whispered, foul breath crawling over his skin as the man leaned into him, his lips almost touching his ear.

“I'm not sixteen anymore”, he said but his voice sounded uneven and breathless, his heart beating wildly. He shouldn't feel like this and Altair felt disgusted with himself. “I'm not the boy I used to be, easy to manipulate and following your orders.”

“No you're not sixteen anymore”, and Altair could feel how his lips pulled into a grin against his ear. “But you still are the boy easy to manipulate. The only thing that changed is that it isn't me anymore fucking you but that Master of yours, fucking with your mind and playing you like a little puppet and you're sitting here, too arrogant and blinded by the Order's lies to see the truth.”

It was then he snapped, pushing Saleh away and sending the man stumbling backwards, standing up fast so the chair lost its balance and hit the ground. “It's time for you to leave”, he breathed through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed to small slits, chest heaving with unresolved anger.

“Indeed it is”, Saleh nodded as he rubbed his chin, looking Altair up and down. “It's truly a shame then, you've had all the potential but you decided to throw it all away. I thought you were your father's son but it seems you're nothing more but one of Al Mualim's sheep.” Saleh snorted and made his way towards the door, his hand already reaching for it. He stopped right next to Altair though, his fingers touching the handle but he didn't pull the door open yet. “Al Mualim caught me fucking you and I was the one sent away into exile, yet you were allowed to stay. Ever wondered why?”

“Out”, he snarled, staring at Saleh from the corner of his eye. The old man nodded. “I see”, Saleh said and smirked. “You do know then.”

He stepped out of the room and the door fell shut behind him and Altair stood there, watching his world burn with chaos.

Oh my god what is even happening I HAVE MORE QUESTIONS NOW...

I really do enjoy your take on Altair and I love your dialogue! It flows nicely uGH IM SO GLAD YOU UPDATED I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WOULD SOON.

Thank you!

What questions? XD

It's been two weeks now since he'd killed Alain and it was the third morning after his encounter with Saleh when Altair stood out in the open right in the middle of a busy street, Paris' citizens getting ready to greet a new day. He rubbed his chin and pulled the hood covering his head deep into his face, sinking back into the shadows, feeling more comfortable like this when he couldn't feel the eyes of those around him anymore. The sun had just risen and didn't manage yet to crawl up and over the houses, the shadows still large and air cold. His ship would leave in five days and he still had to ride all across France to get to Marseille. There was only one more thing to do...

He pushed people to their sides as he forced his way through the crowd, walking through dirt, shit and piss and needed to make a b-line in order to avoid getting hit by piss thrown out a window. The smell was unbelievable and he got once more reminded of why he'd never liked Paris. It was filthy, its citizens sick and there were rats everywhere. Altair just simply hated rats and one or two of his Brothers might even dare to say he was terrified of them but those would lose their tongue quickly if Altair was ever to witness to hear such thing. His boots and pants were covered by mud and something he didn't want to think about once he reached the market place. A rather large crowd had already gathered there, people cheering and screaming as the hangman was already up on the platform, ropes ready for their use. Altair made his way towards until he'd almost reached the first row. There were children held by their parents, sitting on their fathers shoulders or on their mothers hips, happy and eager to see a few men and women lose their lives today. Altair himself just stood there, a solid rock in the middle of a sea of madness, face hidden and eyes emotionless as he waited for the spectacle to begin. Guards were walking up the platform and the crowd started to move, people pushing forwards in large waves as their cheers and screams got louder.

Altair's fingers twitched when he saw several men and women lead onto the stage, cuffed and tied together. He counted nine of them, four women, five men and they all stopped underneath the ropes waiting for the hangman to put them around their necks, their faces dirty and some of them had tracks of tears on their cheeks, others had been clearly tortured. Their crimes were read to the cheering people, the noose pulled tight. He did no longer hear the people around him, did no longer see the laughing children. The world stopped turning while he focused completely on his target, his finger activating the mechanism of his hidden blade. He heard his pulse beating loudly inside his ears, his blood rushing through his veins and carrying adrenaline. Colors faded into gray and Altair stepped towards, pushing men and women aside but he didn't hear their insults, didn't feel their hands on his back as they shoved him.

He was the one, Altair's eyes set on him and for the first time ever since he'd killed his first target, his hand was shaking. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes, the hangman pulling the trigger and the trapdoors opened underneath the prisoners feet, their bodies falling and the ropes were pulled taut. Altair leaned forward, his hand moving, finger twitching again and his blade retract, hidden underneath the leather once more as he stood there, watching them struggle. Only two have been lucky enough to die through their fall. The other ones were slowly suffocating. Altair watched the man struggling, his face turning red then blue and his legs were kicking empty air. He was the one and he didn't feel pity at all, he didn't feel anything and yet he trembled like a leaf in the wind and only when none of the prisoners were moving anymore, he turned away swallowed by the crowd and forgotten in the shadows.

“Who was he?” Lucy looked up at Vidic, sitting next to the man's lifeless body trapped inside the Animus.

“There's a memory missing”, the man muttered and Lucy turned to watch Altair, feeling pity as she saw him like that, his wrists raw since they'd been strapped to the machine for so long now. Her eyes fell back on the old man and all she saw was the side of his face, the screen of his computer reflecting in his glasses as his fingers flew across the keyboard. She wondered if there'd be one to stop him one day. She wondered what had happened to the woman send by the Order to spy on Templars only to become one of them. She wondered what had happened to herself.

“How can there be one missing?” She slowly stood up and her fingers brushed over Altair's as she walked pass him and stopped next to Vidic. “That's not possible.”

“There's one missing”, Vidic growled again and he leaned closer over his screen. “Why would he go there? What does this man have to do with the artifact?”

“Maybe nothing at all”, Lucy told him quietly and she looked back over her shoulder, watching Altair still. It was strange to think that he was a monster. He didn't seem human at all when he was on missions, didn't seem human at all when he took his targets lives and there were moments where she thought he enjoyed killing. Moments like the one she just witnessed. She had been almost able to feel his satisfaction as he watched the man fighting for his life, had almost been able to feel his blood thirst being stilled. “Maybe it's about something which comes after the execution. Why don't we see?” Lucy sat back on her chair and rolled over to Altair's side once more. “He knows where it is, Alain told him that much.”

Now Vidic turned his head and Lucy saw her own reflection in his glasses. “Why's that? If I recall correctly Alain hardly told him anything.”

“He knows. Alain told him enough for Altair to put the pieces together. He knows where it is, he's going back to Masyaf. Why else would he do that if he didn't know?”

Vidic opened his mouth for a reply but he kept silent when there was a small groan and the rustle of moving fabric filling the room. “Is he... waking up?”, Vidic pondered and his eyes narrowed at Lucy, lips pressed to a thin white line, face dark. “How can he wake up?”

Lucy quickly made her way towards Vidic's screen, her eyes watching the numbers running across it. “He's not... not really”, she said and her voice sounded pressed, “he's still inside the memory but”, and she looked over her shoulder once more, her eyes scanning Altair's frame, “but it looks like his body is waking up. Shit. This is exactly what I tried you to warn about”, she hissed.

Vidic followed her, stopping by her side. “What does this mean?”

Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Vidic liked to talk about the Animus as if it was his baby, but he knew surprisingly less about it. “It means”, Lucy forced out between clenched teeth, “he's going to wake up and believe he's still in medieval France.”

“Like the Bleeding Effect?”

“Not effect. He's Bleeding”, Lucy explained. “I told you his old personality is going to get erased if you wanna go through with this. We're soon going to have a pretty pissed 12th century assassin.”

“Ah.” Vidic didn't seem as stressed as Lucy. “Well I expected that. Drug him, keep him unconscious and keep him in the Animus. We don't need him anymore after we're done.”

Lucy's head snapped around and she stared at Vidic. “You want to kill him?” She was outraged. Vidic was an idiot. Killing Altair was like throwing the artifact into the ocean. He was precious. He was important, he was like the 8th wonder of the world. Did Vidic not know that? “He's not like the previous subjects, Sir. He's not replaceable. He actually is Altair.”

“I know pretty well who he is Ms. Stillman, thank you very much”, and now his voice grew cold again and it reminded Lucy once more of what he was capable of, what she had witnessed him doing. It made her blood grew cold. Vidic smiled at her and it made her want to rip off his face. “We still have the other one, don't we?”

Lucy blinked, her rage ebbing away like the tide. “But- we can't work with him”, she stuttered.

Vidic sighed. “No but we can still use him”, and he talked about them as if they were nothing but cattle. He pursed his lips and they broke into a smile just a second later. “You know...”, he said and his voice was as soft as if he was speaking to a small child. “Bring him down her. Let Altair wake up. Let him see we have him.” He paused for a moment and then turned towards Lucy fully. “This was the plan all along wasn't it?”

She took a deep breath of air, her head hanging low between her shoulders with hair falling into her eyes.“There's only one thing”, she murmured, meeting Vidic's eyes and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, standing between him and Altair. “How do you control a monster?”

He had no idea where he was. He had no idea what time it was. The room was dark and cold and Malik was cuffed to a chair, his wrists raw by now and his back ached terrible while his legs hurt from cramps. He could hardly remember anything, he just kept falling in and out of unconsciousness. When the door opened he startled, eyes narrowed as light fell into the small room, blinding him. Feet moved over the ground and Malik heard the rattling of metal, the sound of guns being carried.

“Up you go”, came the voice and tears were running down his cheeks, the light hurting his eyes since he hadn't seen it for so long now and his hands became loose, fingers curling around his shoulder and pulling him upwards. “He wants to see you now”, they whispered into his ear and before he was even able to move his hands, they were pulled behind his back once more and Malik was tied up again. It wasn't like as if he couldn't fight – he could. But right now he was too confused as if he could act and maybe it was because he hasn't been active for the last five years, maybe he'd gotten lazy. He didn't know what it was that held him back and made them follow. Maybe curiosity. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on, he just wanted to make it out of this with no harm. His vision returned slowly, two guards walking by his sides, framing him and pushing him down a long, barely lit hall. The walls were gray, the light flickering and shining down on him from old fluorescent tubes. Malik watched the guards from the corner of his eyes and there seemed something odd about them, something off as if the picture wasn't right. The back of his head was tingling, the hair on his arms standing to end and Malik felt cold, the sick feeling of something bad about to happen engulfing him like thick, tough honey, sticking on to him and not letting go.

They reached an elevator and the doors opened, Malik and both guards stepping inside. He couldn't tell if they were going up or down, the elevator hardly making a sound at all and he could barely feel it moving. It took a few more turns, more halls they were walking down until they finally reached their destination and Malik was brought into a rather large room, empty expect for a desk with a computer on it and something that looked like a... solarium cabin? Seriously?

They stopped a few feet short of a man and a woman, the both of them wearing white coats. She wore her hair in a high bun and he thought it made her look older than she probably was. She eyed him uncertain and he could tell she was fucking nervous while the man just stood there, arms crossed behind his back wearing a huge -probably faked- smile, gray hair and glasses riding low his nose. The guards didn't leave but stood slightly behind him, their hands on their guns and Malik gulped audibly. Only now did he see that there was a second man laying and it was-

Him.

“Altair”, Malik whispered, his lips barely moving but the man heard him, his smile even widening. “Mr. al-Sayf”, he greeted him, arms spread to each side of his body in a welcoming gesture. The woman -and Malik could barely call her that because she looked like a frightened teenager at the moment- picked up a folder, skipping through it and pretending to read the papers inside.

“I'm Dr. Vidic.”

Malik's head snapped up and his eyes were set onto him. He recognized that voice. “It's you”, he muttered, his voice growing deeper, fingers curling into a tight fist and he gritted his teeth. “It's you”, he snarled again, wanting to take a step forwards but one of the guards simply put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Malik didn't try to go further as the man stroke with his thumb over his gun.

“Of course it's me”, Vidic smiled and he beckoned Malik forwards. “Come on... don't be shy. I trust you to not doing anything stupid, yes?” No he wouldn't – Malik knew though he was good, he was really good when it came to fighting, hell, he'd been on two tours to Iraq, he knew how to fight! But he also knew when it was better to keep low and right now it seemed to be the better choice to just do what he were told.

“No I won't”, he said and held his chin up high, his back straightening while he put his arms behind his back. Just show these fuckers he wasn't intimated by them.

“Good, good”, Vidic nodded. He gestured behind him, pointing at the strange looking table with the man trapped inside. “You remember him then, I take it? I think I just heard you say his name...” Malik followed his gesture, his eyes roaming over the body and his gaze stopped at his hands. He counted ten fingers and that didn't seem to be right.

“I- I think”, he muttered softly and maybe it was wrong even answering him but Malik didn't understand anything of this and he just wanted answers – maybe the best way to get them was to pretend. “His name”, Malik looked up at Vidic, “his name is Altair.”

Vidic's smile grew cruel and the woman stood up behind him, eying Malik over the Doctor's shoulder. She stepped closer still, leaning towards his ear. “He's going to wake soon”, she whispered and yet Malik could understand her words very well. “He's going to think he's still in France.”

Vidic nodded and while she seemed to be at the brink of a meltdown, he wasn't worried at all. “Good”, he nodded. “Let me show you how to control a monster, Ms. Stillman. Mr. al-Sayf?” Vidic rose his chin and his eyes bore into Malik's. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“Bullshit.”

Malik snorted at Vidic, his face twisted in a mask of disbelieve. Vidic beckoned at him, inviting him to come closer but Malik refused. Disgust settled like thick liquid metal in his stomach, hot and burning him from the inside. He watched the woman, Stillman, walking around the table and crouching down next to the man's side, her fingers brushing over his bound wrists in an almost loving gesture. The sight sickened him and his anger grew as he watched her touching him like something close to a lover and he knew it wasn't right, wasn't right for her to touch him like that as she held no right when she did so much wrong to him.

“You know this man, don't you?” Vidic smiled at him and Malik shook his head, his chest heaving underneath rising rage. “You know his name and you remember his face, but you just don't know why.” It made Malik realize just how sick the man really was for believing Malik already had lived a life, reincarnated a few hundred years later only for fate to come back crushing down on him, finishing something which started in the late 11th century. He laughed at Vidic, dry and short like the bark of a dog. “'course I know him. Met him on my way back home the other day. He's just another face I meet when riding the train”, he told him nonchalantly though he could tell Vidic looked right through his act. His words had made sense in a strange way but he yet refused to believe them.

“Sir, he's-”

“Let him”, Vidic cut through Stillman's words. “Mr. al-Sayf here will tell him that everything is alright. He will tell him that he's working for us. Isn't that correct?”, he smiled at Malik and it made him just the more angry.

“And why would I do that?”

Now Vidic shook his head in a manner of pity. “Because we'll kill him otherwise”, he said and the way how his voice sounded made Malik realize he wasn't kidding, wasn't kidding at all. It wasn't all though and he braced himself for what has yet to come.

“You'd kill him?”, he pondered and his eyebrows met the line of his hair. “He's quite valuable, isn't he? And you'd just kill him? I don't think so.”

“Ah, aren't you a clever young man”, Vidic chuckled and he walked towards Malik until he was just an arm's length away from him. “We would drug him further, keep him in the Animus for a couple of weeks more, learning what we want to learn and then kill him. He's like a wild dog, Mr. al-Sayf and wild dogs need to be put down.”

“So it's just that easy for you? Then what do you need me for?” It sounded like as if they would get whatever they wanted no matter what Malik would or wouldn't do so... Vidic keeping him here didn't make sense at all.

“No”, Vidic smiled still and Malik knew he walked right into his trap. “You're right, we don't need you for that and it would be indeed a pity to kill somebody as talented and skilled as him. You're going to tame him of course”, he concluded.

“What you did is called kidnapping”, Malik told him in a low voice while his eyes narrowed. “You have no right keeping me here, you have no right doing... that to him him.” He gestured towards Altair and Stillman.

Altair groaned again and he pulled at his bindings, Stillman's fingers flying over his wrists to untie him. Maybe she was suicidal for doing so.

“No, what I did is called necessary for saving what's left of this pitiful world. This is just the end of a war which should have been over a very long time ago.”

“He's waking-”, she started but Vidic lifted his hand, hushing her. “There's not much time left, Mr. al-Sayf. I'm afraid you have no real saying in this anyway”, and now Vidic was finally cutting to the chase.

Malik saw the movement from the corner of his eyes before he heard Stillman's surprised gasp. Altair's hands moved, fingers curling around the woman's wrist as he reached for her before his eyes flew open. She watched in horror while Vidic smiled still, walking around the desk and opening a drawer. He pulled something out which looked like a gun but Malik knew it didn't held deadly bullets as it was a tranquilizer gun. So he was prepared after all.

“This could get ugly”, Vidic told him and his smile didn't fit the situation at all as Altair woke. Within the blink of an eye he was up and jumping off the table, pulling the woman down to the ground with him. He knelt there for a whole of two seconds, eyes dilated and blown wide searching the room and his gaze settled on Malik before it flickered over to Vidic. “Easy there”, the Doctor told him as if he was talking to a wild animal and maybe Altair really was. He kept staring at Vidic while the woman slowly came back to life, pushing herself off the ground and crawling away from Altair, seeking cover behind the table as she probably knew better what would happen within the next seconds. Maybe she wasn't suicidal after all.

Vidic took small steps closer to Altair, aiming the gun at him. “Now... this must seem very confusing but I believe your friend here will explain everything. Isn't that right Mr. al-Sayf?” His voice was bitter sweet, like venom eating its way through Malik's veins right down to his bones. Altair snarled at him, gritting his teeth and Vidic was almost close enough to reach for him. It was the moment Malik stepped into action, acting on instincts not knowing why the words came to his mind he was about to say. He didn't want him to do anything stupid, thought it was better for him to first understand what was going on. They could figure a way out of this mess later but he feared if Altair would act like the trapped animal he currently was it would end in his doom.

“Safety and peace, Brother”, he said slowly, his hand coming up and he held it in front of his body and Altair blinked, some of the confusion inside his eyes melting.

“That's right boy”, Vidic whispered and licked over his lips, walking closer still. “Everything's alright-”

Altair shot up, his shoulder meeting Vidic's outstretched arm, the gun falling from his fingers and landing in a loud clatter on the ground. His forehead met Vidic's, knocking him down within a second and Altair was crossing the small distance separating him from Malik with long steps, almost throwing him to the ground when he pulled Malik behind the desk, crouching down and seeking cover as they heard Stillman cursing, shifting and reaching for the gun. There was blood on Altair's brow and Malik peered up from the desk, watching Vidic laying on the ground with blood coming from his nose. He saw the woman's blond hair sticking out from behind the table when she was taking cover.

“What is this?”, Altair whispered with his back pressed against the furniture, his fingers curled tightly around Malik's bicep and he sounded breathless. He was speaking Arabic, old, ancient Arabic of which Malik hardly understood a word. He hadn't spoken it for too long and the accent was thick.

“What's going on?”, Altair roared and Malik just looked at him, witnessing the madness unleashed, whirling in dark clouds behind Altair's eyes. “Malik! Novice!”

It was the lost key setting things back into motion. Malik blinked and old faded memories returned in bright colors, long lost ghosts hunting him, taunting him. A lost arm, brother, title... Altair, the bitter taste of betrayal making him almost gag. He remembered an old church, a market place and the sharp pain of steel cutting through his finger, screams piercing his soul and pain collapsing over his body like a wave, dark eyes forcing their way into his vision, a face -Abbas- the last he saw before the blade came rushing down, cutting through skin, muscles and bones -

Malik gasped as if he was drowning, finally breaking through the surface of thick black memories, taking deep inhales of much needed air. “Templars”, he whispered at Altair and he felt another personality inside of him, fingers pushing against his mind trying to throw him down in order to take over. Malik resisted and held his place, fighting to stay in charge. He watched panic crawling over Altair's face before it was replaced by something else, by something much more frightening, terrifying. Altair searched his eyes and held Malik's gaze, his fingers squeezing the man's arm as grim determination settled in, bringing calmness as well. Apparently Altair had understood the word and he knew Malik's face, remembered him and while he didn't understand what the fuck was going on at least the looked into the familiar eyes of the man he trusted with his life.

“We're going. Now”, Altair told him and he looked upwards, Malik following his gaze and he saw the small opening in the ceiling Altair was looking at, nodding.

“Mr. al-Sayf, please!” It was the woman and he heard her fumbling with the gun, re-loading it. “They won't let you leave just,... please, let me explain?”

Malik placed his arm over Altair's chest, holding him back and pushing him down to the ground again. He locked his eyes with Altair's telling him in a silent way to just wait a few seconds longer. When none of them answered, when none of them moved, she kept on going.

“It's true what Dr. Vidic said, you are your ancestor's reincarnation, you are him. Just like Altair. Altair was inside the Animus, his memories of his time as an assassin got triggered and erased the ones he has from his modern life. He probably won't remember anything of this world and it will leave him very confused, making him a very dangerous man. Your own memories, Mr. al-Sayf, will return soon and you will see all of this is going to make some sort of strange sense. There's no need to fight, please. You can't make it out by your own, but you can make it out when you let me help you.”

Altair tried to get up again but Malik held him back once more and stood up himself. He felt Altair's eyes burning into his back, hot rage radiating in waves off his body. “You fool! She's tricking us, don't you see?”

Malik slowly turned towards her, saw her crouching behind the table with her back pressed against it and the gun tight in her hands. “You want to help us?”, he asked her softly and she turned her head, her eyes meeting Malik's. She nodded.

“My name's Lucy Stillman. I'm working undercover, I'm no Templar.”

Malik's shoulders tensed. “I don't believe you one word”, he said as he watched her slowly standing up, the gun loosely between her fingers now, pointing down to the ground.

“I can understand, I don't judge you. But you don't have a chance in hell without me. You can't trust me but you also don't have a choice here.” Vidic groaned to her feet, his leg twitching and Lucy's eyes bore back into Malik's when she looked up again. “I can show you the way out”, she told him, her look hard and determined.

Altair's fingers found Malik's wrist and he pulled him slightly down, his lips close to his ear. “Don't trust her”, he hissed, “she's one of them.”

“I don't”, Malik told him as he looked down on Altair, “but she's right”, and he pulled his arm free from his grasp. He nodded at her. “Alright. We'll go with you.”

“Malik!”, Altair hissed again but Malik ignored him and instead whirled him back to his feet by grabbing him underneath the arm. He stood close to Altair, their eyes almost on the same level. “You don't trust her, alright, but you trust me”, he told him through gritted teeth. “And I say we go with her.” He turned towards Lucy again.

“Let's go.”

xxx

“Alright”, Lucy told them once they reached the end of the tunnel they've been followingthe last ten minutes and her voice was low. They were in the basement of the building, in the maintenance tunnels, big tubes hanging low from the ceiling and the air was hot and moist. “This is it. Go through that door and you're on your own... I can only point you in the right direction but my fate's sealed with Abstergos Industries.” She handed Malik a small cell phone. “I will contact you in three days. I hope you two are smart enough to get as far away as possible. I won't be able to distract them longer than that.”

Altair stood close by, his hand already pushing down the handle. He hadn't spoken a word ever since Lucy had showed them the way down, making sure to avoid guards as they were making their way out of the building.

Malik nodded, fingers curling around the phone as he put it into his pocket. “Now, go!”, and Lucy pushed between his shoulder blades while Altair was already into motion, opening the door and a second later, they were both out in the open, the sky black with rain pouring down on them, thunder tearing through the sky and they were soon soaked to the bones.

The storm was loud, wind ripping at their clothes and yet Malik felt calm, the rain against his skin making him feel alive again. He took a moment to sort his thoughts, the door falling shut behind him again and it was like as if he'd just stepped into a new life, a new life he knew all too well, a life which future lay unknown in front of him and yet it was familiar, the memories terrifying and comforting at once. It felt like as if he was choking on the events which just happened and he swallowed thickly around the lump forming in his throat.

Altair just stared at him, chest heaving heavily underneath his erratic breaths, his heart beating wildly with blood pumping loudly through his veins. He watched raindrops rolling down Malik's jaw and nose and it took him a moment longer to realize it wasn't rain but tears, his eyes red and puffy and fingers curled into tight fists as he looked at Altair, trembling. Altair took one step forward and started crossing the distance between them, Malik moved as well.

He ducked underneath Malik's fist as he saw it coming, grabbing his wrist and whirling the man around until his back met the cold wall of the alley. It happened within the blink of an eye, Malik snarling at him as he tried to kick him between the legs but Altair just stepped closer, pressing himself with his full body weight against him and kept him in place. He pinned Malik's hand against the wall right next to his head and they both looked at each with intense eyes, staring into each other souls. Malik was trembling as well as Altair, it was cold, heavily raining and they both just barely escaped with their lives, still high on adrenaline.

It was Altair though who moved first. Malik groaning, protesting but Altair swallowed his words as his lips moved over those of the man, kissing him. It'd been too long now, decades, centuries and dear god, a kiss wasn't enough to make up for the lost time.

Malik's hand pushed against Altair's chest, pushed him away and Altair blinked down then looked back up at Malik.

“We need to go”, Malik told him, voice raspy and just as cold as the weather. “We need a place to hide.”

“Hide?”, Altair practically mouthed the word and it was the first time he was speaking since Lucy led them out the building. “Like cowards? No.” His English was flawless and it made Malik tumble for one second but he found his balance once more quickly.

“Yes!” Malik shoved at him again, holding one finger up and into Altair's face. “Right now we do have to hide, we can't rush into things. Did you forget everything which happened, did they fuck up your brain? If anything of what Lucy told us is true, you should remember what happened at Solomon's Temple – you of all people should know that no good comes from making rush decisions. We hide. For now.”

He shoved Altair aside and made his way down the alley and towards New York's busy streets.

I know i already told you all my thoughts on Ao3 but i will here too i JUST REALLY LOVE this development and how dark you are making it.

ok my questions - as previously stated - are slowly being answered. I was wondering where malik was and if altair would get out of the anumus and if lucy was really on their side and if they would escape/??? hHHhh

this is coming together so well I CAN'usefwgr REINCARNATION.....PLEASE REALIZE SOON YOU TWO I MEAN ALTAIR IS ALREADY..>COME ON MALIK...

“Take it. He won't need it anymore”, Malik told him and held out the coat for Altair to grab. It was still raining and he only wore thin white pants with a white t-shirt and the fabric was clinging to his body like a second skin by now – not to mention he was freezing and his lips already turned blue from the cold. He nodded slowly and took the dirty fabric, the man Malik had taken it from laying dead in the alley. A homeless, and the coat smelled just like it but Altair didn't mind and just put it around his shoulders. The sleeves were too long just as the rest of it was too big but it did the trick and warmed him at least a little though it was still wet. Malik still wore what he'd been wearing all day, black shoes, business pants and a white shirt with a tie, soaked as well but he wasn't as cold as Altair.

Altair himself felt tired, confused and as if somebody had pulled out his brain and stuffed it upside down back in. He had no idea how much time he'd spent in that machine, didn't know how much they have seen but at least he was free – for now. “They were wrong, weren't they?” Malik stood up again, licking over his lips as rain run down his cheeks, dripping off his nose.

It took Altair a moment to process the words. He had a terrible headache, his throat was dry and he felt dizzy plus his ancient memories were so strong that it was difficult for him to stay in the present. “Wrong about what?”, he asked softly and his voice sounded just as tired as how he really felt.

“About remembering the modern world.” Malik actually smiled a little. “About remembering this time.”

Altair shrugged with his shoulders and pulled the hood up, his face falling into deep shadows. “'course I remember”, he muttered softly, wiping his face with one hand. “I was confused at first though but... yeah I remember”, he sighed and looked at Malik. “I remember everything, I remember everything from jumping down Masyaf's walls to waking up this morning and going to work.” He looked lost for a small moment before he turned his gaze back on Malik who was leaning heavily against a wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. “And what's with you? Did they put you in that... thing as well?”

“No”, Malik shook his head. All it really took for him to remember was to hear Altair's voice, to see his face, smell his scent and not just his memories returned but also the forbidden fruits of his desire.... He didn't say it and kept silent instead. He sighed deeply and pushed himself off the wall. “We need to get out of the rain... we need to find a place to stay.”

“We leave the city. I know a small motel just outside the city's limits. Looks like shit and I think the only people staying there are rent boys and drug dealers.”

Malik nodded and nudged the dead man's leg with his foot.

“Check his pockets. Maybe he has some money on him”, Malik noted at the homeless and his nose wrinkled up with mild disgust – the body was already rotting, the foul scent of something sweet and sour invading his nostrils; he'd been probably dead for a couple of days. Altair leaned towards and turned the man around and on his back, feeling inside his pockets. They were empty and he thought for a minute. “Give me his shoes”, Altair nodded at Malik and he crouched down, pulling the boots right off only to let them fall a second later.

“Shit, no. You don't want to wear his boots”, he said and Altair looked up and over Malik's shoulder. Oh. Yes, no he didn't want to wear his shoes that seemed to be right. Apparently the man got an infected toe at some point, didn't treat it until it got so bad that maggots were wiggling inside the wound eating their way through his flesh, through bones and skin. “Fuck it”, he said and grabbed the boots, shaking them and reached with his fingers inside, cleaning them out as good as possible. He found something else besides maggots inside them and pulled out the bills he was looking for, putting the money back into his own pockets before he put on the shoes.

“Let's get a cab then”, he told Malik and walked past him, the man following Altair suit and out into the streets.

It didn't take long for them to get a cab to stop – it took by far longer finding someone actually driving them. Altair smelled disgusting and Malik had to breath through his mouth to keep himself from gagging. In the end they finally found somebody, an elderly man, a Russian from how his accent sounded who agreed to drive them for some extra money. Altair just shoved some of the dirty bills into his hands and told him to keep the change. They drove in silence, Altair watching the bright lights from the city rushing by the window, the night the darkest just before dawn. His mind was traveling just as fast as the car was speeding along the streets and it brought him back to Masyaf and Al Mualim, back to his childhood, his real childhood, the memory of his father's death tasting bitter on his tongue, the picture of blood covering the grounds with his head laying next to his body filling his vision. When he looked back down on his hands again he saw the wrecked car of his parents turned over on the Autobahn, the piece of flesh sticking out from beneath the debris, a piece of flesh which had once been a hand. He muttered soft words to himself, humming an old melody he'd thought he'd forgotten. Altair felt Malik's eyes on him, watching him as he sung softly to himself but he ignored the man and closed his eyes instead.

They didn't speak a word until they reached the motel, the both of them stepping out of the car. Altair waited as Malik went inside, renting them a room and returning only a few moments later, leading Altair to a door with the number 13 on it. He pushed the key into the lock and the door jumped open, a foul smell greeting them. “Get inside”, Malik urged him and switched on the lights.

Altair sat down on the bed and he really didn't care about the stains on the sheets or the wallpaper coming lose or the fact that the air was really moist and sticky. He thought he heard water running somewhere from behind the walls and looked up when he heard feet shuffling over the floor, Malik sitting down next to him.

“This is a dream, isn't it?”, Malik muttered softly and Altair understood all too well. He was confused himself, terrible so. He felt foreign in his own skin, he felt like an invader to his own mind. This was him, Altair, the guy who tried saving money to go back to school, who never stayed for too long at one place because he'd moved so much during his childhood he didn't know how it felt to be at home. This was him, Altair, an assassin who became Grandmaster before the age of thirty, who had watched the woman and man he loved die, killed by the enemy, who'd lost his son to betrayal. He felt miserable when he thought back to his past life, felt miserable at how much sense everything suddenly made.

“It's a nightmare”, Altair answered him and he looked sideways, watching Malik from the corner of his eye. While Malik's presence offered him comfort it also freaked him the fuck out. He slumped a little and leaned close to Malik, his head resting on the man's shoulder. “Just let me sleep”, he told Malik as he knew the man had other plans with him. “No”, Malik shook his head and Altair sighed because he'd known the answer long before. Malik shifted his weight, scooting further away from Altair which caused him to lose his balance and he dropped down onto the bed, his cheek hitting the sheets. They smelled like piss and he shot up again. “Why did you do that?”, he asked Malik, scrunching his nose.

“Don't act like an idiot”, Malik simply told him. “And for god's sake, will you please take off that coat and shoes? I swear I'm going to throw up if you don't.” This – this was the Malik he remembered, the one he grew up in Masyaf with. His tongue and mind sharp, his words like venom. He wondered if Malik felt the same as he did – two minds being crushed together to become one.

Altair groaned heavily and rolled off the bed, standing next to it and felt Malik watching him from the corner of his eye. “Do you still have that cellphone she gave to you?”, he asked him while his fingers worked on the boots, pulling them off his feet and he kicked them away, sending them flying across the small room.

Malik scoffed. “I threw it away when we were driving across the Hudson.”

Altair hummed in an approving manner, peeling the wet coat off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “Good... “

It was strange how easy it was to fall back into old habits, how easy it was to relish Malik's presence, how easy it was for their minds to click again, for their survival instincts to kick back in. He felt more like the Sleeping Beauty who finally woke up; and yet, it wasn't the same at all. They weren't the same. While so much was just the way it used to be, there was so much more which had changed now and Altair didn't know what to make out of it. He wondered what would happen once the adrenaline wore off when he got the time to think again...

“Malik, we need to talk-”

“Go shower first”, he interrupted Altair. “I'm not going to talk to you when you smell like a novice who's been hiding in a manure pit for the whole day.” Yepp. Definitely the Malik he once knew.

Altair grumbled a reply and Malik's head shot up. “What was that?” And Altair straightened his back, his fingers gripping the hem of his soaked t-shirt and lifting it up and over his head before he let it drop onto the floor as well. “I said it's nice to see you didn't change at all – or so it seems”, Altair muttered and watched how Malik looked away, the faint traces of a blush standing on his cheeks and his lips broke into a grin.

“Now who's the idiot here?”, Altair pondered and shoved Malik's head playfully as he walked pass him and entered the bathroom. He switched on the lights and it looked just like the rest of their room as if it has not been cleaned in a very long time. Altair chose to oversaw the bathroom's flaws, stripped naked and turned on the water, waiting until it got warm and he stepped inside and underneath the spray. For a moment he just stood there and waited for his body to warm up again, steam rising soon and engulfing him like a comforting blanket. He scrubbed his head and he thought he felt something crawling over his skin – he really didn't want to know what else had been inside that coat. Only when he felt clean again he turned the water off, grabbed a towel and put it around his waist, walking back into the room. Malik still sat on the bed, head hanging low between his shoulders with his hands folded between his thighs. He looked up when he heard Altair walking back inside, his hair still wet from the rain. Altair did a 360 in front of him, showing his body from all sides and held his arms to each side of him. “That's better?”, he pondered with a sly smirk and Malik nodded.

“We'll stay for the night – we move again tomorrow”, he concluded with a heavy sigh and slowly stood, rubbing his wet hair as he eyed Altair. None of them spoke for a few moments and it wasn't one of those comfortable silences. Altair grew slowly restless and he caught himself by avoiding Malik's gaze, something he hadn't done in a very long time. It made once more clear in what an unbelievable situation the two of them were. He knew Malik, was familiar with him and still, he could be very well a stranger standing in front of him. He knew nothing about him and yet everything and the thought made his hair stand to end, it made Alair kind of sick to the stomach as it was so very much confusing.

When Altair didn't say anything, Malik opened his mouth again. “What were they looking for?”, he asked Altair, his voice raspy while he pulled his tie from his neck. He narrowed his eyes. “If it's that damn artifact again I hope you made sure for nobody to ever find it again.”

“No”, Altair shook his head, the word soft and just barely above a whisper as Malik's simple question had pulled him right out of his past into the present and back again. “They're looking for the Chalice.”

“The Chalice? But that's-”

“Adha”, he whispered and pressed his lips tightly together until they were nothing but a thin white line. Her name felt like a sharp knife, cutting into his guts and piercing through his heart. There hadn't been a day where he hadn't thought about her, but those thoughts he kept to himself, didn't share them with anybody.

“But she- they took her and-”

“And nothing. She was lost then, she's lost now, dead for centuries”, Altair told him bitterly.

Malik rubbed his face with both hands and looked up the ceiling, sighing again. “You need to explain this. What they did to you, how that thing works you were in.”

It made Altair somehow angry. The way how Malik acted, the way how he chose his words with such accuracy as if he'd never had this modern life. He swallowed it all down. No good would come out of it if he would follow down that path. Altair sat down on a nearby chair and he did tell him, told him everything he knew and told him everything about how he ended up at Abstergo's the first place. His hair was almost dry when he stopped and he looked up at Malik who had hardly moved, just standing there and listening to his words.

“And what were those memories they'd watched?”

“The ones before I left for France-”, and at this Malik took a sharp inhale of air, “- and the ones when I was there.”

“Why? What happened there that they would be interested in them?”

“It's none of your business”, Altair simply told him. He could tell Malik was hiding something so he didn't see the point in telling him anyway.

“None of my business?” Malik scoffed while Altair walked over to his wet clothes, picking them up and put them over the heater, turning it on so they could dry. “I think it's very well my business. Come on now, novice. Spill it.”

Altair fell back into the chair and shook his head. “You don't need to know...” Besides – the less he knew the safer he actually was.

Malik groaned and he walked up and down the small room like a trapped animal. “You are so frustrating Altair. Stubborn as ever.” Malik stopped in front of him and glared down on him. “What else is it you're keeping to yourself?” His eyes narrowed at him and they grew dark and cold, distant maybe.

“I assure you it's nothing, Brother-”

“Nothing?” Malik snorted again. “Yes, of course it is.”

It was the moment Altair finally lost his patience and he stood, stepping in front of Malik and glaring at him. “It's nothing”, he hissed and closed the gap between them, his chest touching Malik's. He could see his own reflection in Malik's eyes and he thought he saw his history whirling inside of them, showing him the long forgotten key to his past and it made him overcome with his own emotions. He leaned in closer, his hand coming up to rest on Malik's hip and-

“Altair, don't. Stop it.”

“Why?”, he muttered but did pull away, licking over his lips. “Why can't we just-”

“Because we can't!” Malik glared at him breathless with his fingers clenched to a fist. “Look at you, you're pathetic”, he practically spat the last word. “What about Maria? Did you even think about her?”

Altair's eyes narrowed and he held his breath for a whole of two seconds. “Is this how you think about me?”, he asked Malik quietly and his voice was trembling with unleashed anger. “You think I haven't thought about her? You think it's just that easy for me? You think ever since I woke up I haven't thought about my family, about my sons?” Altair snorted but his eyes grew softer and then he sighed.

“All of this- all of this is just a reminder of how much I've failed. How I failed the Order, my sons, my wife – you. I thought I did the right thing back then, I didn't. I've watched my wife die right in front of my eyes, dying through the blade which was meant for me.” Altair laughed bitterly, empty and shallow. “What, you think I'm betraying her? That I betray the woman who died centuries ago? I'm not.” He looked up, meeting Malik's eyes. “She knew.”

“She knew? About what?”

“About me.”

Malik seemed confused, puzzled. “Explain.”

“What's there to explain Malik? Nothing is true. And everything is permitted. Isn't that right?” He smiled bitterly sweet at him. He released a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm not going to talk about this with you. You didn't want to listen back then, I doubt you're going to listen now.”

When he looked up again he saw something change behind Malik's eyes and for a moment he thought he remembered, he thought Malik knew, would maybe understand.

But maybe his mind was playing tricks on him because Altair watched how Malik turned around wordlessly and closed the door behind as he nearly fled into the bathroom.

He sighed as he heard the water running just a few seconds later.

OOhhh tension....I love tension.

Ugh i was hoping they talk things out too now that they all remember. WOW who knew others remembered adha! I was surprised to see her mentioned!

I hope they talk again and I hope they stop BEING SO THEM and stubborn it isn't helping :(((

Really good update. I also love your pacing with the story. (I'm a sucker for really long fics)

Holy crap!!! I cant believe I havent reviewed this story yet! Dear god this story is FREAKIN AMAZING!!!! The odd relationship between moden day Altair and Malik is so freakin interesting! I can't wait to read the next chapter!

I won't update here anylonger. You can new parts and the story here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/654633/chapters/1192550

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Re: Fill: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again 7/?

Writer!anon 2 here

Re: Writer!anon 1 here

Re: Fill: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again 8/?

OP

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 9/?

OP

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 10/?

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 10/?

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 11/?

OP

Re: Fill: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again 12/?

OP

Re: Author

Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 13a

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 13b

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 14a/?

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 14b/?

OP

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 15a/?

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 15b/?

OP

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 15b/?

Re: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again Part 16/?