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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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ALPHA MALIK AND OMEGA ALTAIR!
(Anonymous) 2013-02-24 01:17 am (UTC)(link)Re: ALPHA MALIK AND OMEGA ALTAIR!
(Anonymous) 2013-02-24 07:09 am (UTC)(link)Seconded!
Re: ALPHA MALIK AND OMEGA ALTAIR!
(Anonymous) 2013-02-25 02:25 am (UTC)(link)It's For Life (Part 1)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-15 03:19 am (UTC)(link)----------
Al Mualim’s passing brought about a whole lot of problems to Altaïr. Half his brothers were breathing down his neck for answers while the other half tried to keep things under control, with little success. They deserved their answers, but how could he begin explaining when he did not know it to begin with?
The gates had to be reconstructed, Masyaf had to be rebuilt, families reunited, injured had to treated (and consequently they had to use normal rooms as infirmary when the one they had became full), the Apple had to be dealt with, posts relocated, Al Mualim’s scrolls locked away and they would need every help they could get. Some rafiqs and dais from nearby cities came to aid, but others only lent them their sympathy. Altaïr couldn’t blame them, they had their own troubles in their own cities to deal with. Besides, it was his responsibility since he was the one to take down their previous leader.
But most of all, Altaïr hated dealing with Abbas’ constant reminder of what he did.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to hate Al Mualim, even after what he did. He hated what he did, but not him, and every time Abbas spit it in his face that he had been the one to end his life, he could do nothing but curl his fists in anger and move on. There was too much to do to give the gatekeeper the satisfaction of knowing that his words hurt him. So he ignored Abbas to the best of his abilities and when it came too much to bear, he pinned the man against the wall and told him that if he didn’t want to help around, than he would happily send him away to another city. It was enough to shut him up for a few weeks, though the murdering glare never stopped coming his way. But so long as his mouth was kept closed, Altaïr could deal with it.
Thankfully he had help. Rauf took it upon himself to try and keep Abbas away from him as much as possible, which he was silently grateful for. Malik dealt with the angry people that still couldn’t understand why the mentor had perished. He had never been good with words anyway, it had always been Malik’s specialty.
A month after Al Mualim’s death and things slowly began falling into a common routine. Less people came to the castle to complain, Abbas finally settled down back in the gate, Rauf finally started his lessons again and with people finally recovering, the place was less crowded. With more man available to take care of everything else, he locked himself in Al Mualim’s old study room with Malik to finally begin working on everything the mentor had left behind. Days were spent in the room, with little food and rest and only their desire to know more growing with each passing hour.
“You should probably stay with this.”
Altaïr looked up from the scroll he was reading and glanced at the book Malik held out for him. Taking it in his hands, his eyes ran through a middle-sized paragraph in one page and a drawing on the other. Just looking at the figures in the drawing told him what it was about. Two adults side by side, as if talking. One had the mentor’s iconic dark robe and grey beard, while the other was an Assassin with a baby in held in one of his arms. His father.
“Yes.”
He closed and put it together with two other books and a few more scrolls he had separated to hide later. He continued reading until he heard Malik’s voice again.
“We should stop for now.”
He looked up at Malik and waited for an explanation.
“It’s getting dark again and we’ve spent another day enclosed in this place. The books aren’t going anywhere and I need a bath. You,” he point a finger in Altaïr’s direction. “Have barely eaten anything the whole day and I can’t have our future mentor dying on me before he even gets the title.”
The master Assassin scoffed. He had heard it, rumours about how people speculated he was to be the next mentor. A month ago this would’ve inflated his ego, but now he wasn’t so sure that’s what he wanted anymore.
Altaïr looked outside. The sky was a deep purple and the shadows were making it hard to read again, even with all the candles around. They haven’t left the room in three days and all the concentrating with no breaks was taking its toll on him, as he could barely understand what he was reading anymore.
“Let’s stop for now, then.” He looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose at the robe he’s been wearing for the past three days.
The dai looked out the window and put his books on the floor, getting up from his place. Altaïr did the same and they both cranked their necks and turned their shoulders both ways, trying to make it less stiff. Just standing on two legs in days was hard enough.
“I guess I need to clean myself as well.”
----------
They managed to eat in the dining hall with everyone else for the first time in weeks. Rauf had been eager to learn about their discoveries and other high ranked Assassins sat with them to discuss the future of the order. Once again Malik did most of the explaining - he was good at it after all (Altaïr glanced gratefully in his direction when he noticed the other man looking). He then proposed that they split their roles to run the brotherhood back into shape faster; one man would run the treasury and take care of economy, another would be responsible for the military and checking up on novices and their training.
It was a crowded dinner, but he had to admit he had missed it. Having Malik by his side to help deal with all the questions certainly made it more bearable.
The only reason they returned to the study room after dinner was to put a few books back in place and carry out to their respective rooms the books they would need to keep reading on their own, or books that they would take with them and hide away from public - usually relating to themselves or that contained thoughts about the Apple that would be best not seen by the average person.
While collecting some of the scrolls, Altaïr glanced at the one Al Mualim had been working on before his death. It was a list of supplies he did every month, sending apprentices and other low-ranked Assassins to the cities in order to get them. It was a task that he would have to do now that the mentor was gone.
Supplies, medicine... Altaïr widened his eyes. The suppressant. His eyes ran through the list, looking for the item, but it was nowhere to be found - as he had expected. Al Mualim either got them himself or sent someone of trust to get them, he had known that already because he had told him himself.
However now he had no idea how to get them. Where? With whom?
It wasn’t exactly a secret, but it wasn’t said around either that there were omegas within the order. They were fewer than the alphas, but still a considerable number. It was best for them to keep it hidden, to keep a sense of equality, which is why the mentor had the suppressants brought in and kept on his desk’s drawer. He handed them out whenever omegas came to take them, a way to keep track of who was an alpha and who wasn’t.
No lists of names written down either - he was too careful, memorized all names and wouldn’t tell anyone about it, so naturally Altaïr had no way of knowing who could spare some for him. He could check the mentor’s drawer later, but it’s been more than a month, he could hardly believe there would be any left.
“Altaïr?”
Malik’s voice brought him back to the room. He glanced at the one-arm man before shaking his head and collecting the scrolls again. He would have to work on this problem first thing in the morning, but for now it could wait.
“Sorry, just thinking.”
He took the medicine once every six months. He would have to take another in two weeks. There was a chance he will have the answer for the problem by then, so it was nothing to worry about.
“What is it?” Malik insisted.
“The supplies,” he held out the scroll for his friend. “I’ll have to work on this list tomorrow and send men to get them. I had forgotten about it.”
Malik didn’t seem convinced, but was polite enough to not inquire more about it. It was weird, though no less appreciated, the way Malik treated him now, with respect and care. Their bickering and animosity didn’t fade away, but they were far less one-sided. He almost smiled at the thought. Just a month ago and Malik would still be after his head.
It reminded him that Malik didn’t know. Altaïr had never told anyone besides Al Mualim about it, and now that secret had followed him to the afterlife. He would rather keep it that way, though the thought of sharing it with his now friend didn’t sound so implausible.
----------
Altaïr sighed. Two weeks later and he still had no idea where or how to get the damn medicine. He tried asking the doctors in the infirmary about it, asked if they ever got them for the mentor, but they simply shook their head. He asked two master Assassins about it and one of them told him another master Assassin, Elias, was the one responsible for getting them in the cities, but he had died when Masyaf had been taken by Al Mualim.
Without any other choices, he decided to ask for help at last.
“Malik, I forgot about one thing in the supplies list I sent last week.”
“Hm?” Malik groaned, but did not stop reading the book on his hand.
“When you were in Jerusalem, did any of our brothers take suppressants from you?”
Malik looked up.
“Yes, some of them, but I can’t remember any by name.”
“I don’t need names. Do you know where I could get some?”
“Of course.” he looked puzzled and raised an eyebrow. “But why is that?”
“Al Mualim was the one that handed them out around here, did you forget? That task falls to me now.”
Malik seemed surprised about what he said and he wondered if the man had found out about his condition.
“I never knew. I thought it was something the omegas just took from the infirmary like the other medical supplies. That’s how it is in the bureaus - well, mine at least.”
Altaïr thought about it for a while. No, it was best that he kept it hidden, like the master did. He was right about the sense of equality. Everyone knew there were omegas in the ranks, but knowing they were there and seeing them there were two entirely different scenarios. There were far too many transcriptions in older scrolls detailing how frantic the distinction could be if omegas weren’t treated like alphas - too much disagreement, rape going on within. Disorder - everything their previous mentor despised.
“It’s best kept in secrecy to preserve everyone’s identity, that’s why Al Mualim handed them out here. Do you think you could order some from Jerusalem.”
“Yes, I know the man who produces them.”
“Good. Order large quantities.”
Malik blinked at that.
“Wait, how many omegas are in the order?”
“I have no idea, only the master knew about it. I’d rather not risk not having enough for everyone. We don’t have the time to deal with isolating omegas in heat from the others. I want to avoid it as much as possible.”
“I see. I’ll send the order at the end of the day.”
Altaïr nodded. The order would take about three days to reach Jerusalem and about two weeks for production and delivery. He hoped he could hold it out until then. The others as well.
----------
Altaïr hasn’t been in his own room in days. It is with a sigh and a sense of relief that he finally stepped in, heading straight for the low mattress. All books set aside, he fumbled with the cushions until he found a comfortable enough position.
His back ached at the sudden relief, but it soon turned into great pleasure as he already started feeling his eyes close. So much for bringing books in to read. Just as he turned to the side to sleep, he heard knocks at his door.
He considered sending them away or pretending he wasn’t there, but thought better of it. It was his responsibility. Letting out a heavy sigh, he sat up.
“Come in.”
Two apprentices entered the room, and he vaguely remembered one of them helping Malik when they took Masyaf back.
“Mentor, forgive us for--”
“I’m not mentor yet.”
He overheard people talking in the corridors (and truthfully almost everyone already treated him as such), despite the fact that no official ceremonies had been thrown in due to the state things were in at the moment. He enjoyed the attention and perhaps a few months ago he would have proudly taken the title even if no official statements had been made, but now it was a constant reminder that Al Mualim was gone. He didn’t want the title just yet.
“Master.” The other novice corrected. “Forgive us for coming in at such a late hour.” It wasn’t that late yet, but they must have felt obligated to apologize since Altaïr was caught nearly falling asleep. “But we have an urgent matter to discuss.”
He nodded to show he was listening, but they simply stared at each other and the one who started talking couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.
“Out with it.” He motioned with one hand for the boys to speak.
They looked at each other one last time before taller one tried to speak again.
“Master, you know... You know how there are” He stopped to scratch his neck, obviously looking for the best words. “There are omegas in the order as well, right?” We - huh, they need certain medicine to contain the heat? It’s already been two months since no official order came in and we’re getting on edge.”
“Two months?” Altaïr blinked. Of course, the master was working on the list for the month prior to his death, and Altaïr only took it a month later, meaning this was the second month the order went without it. It was miracle he hadn’t heard anything about people going into heat yet.
“Yes. We managed so far because... he, well, one of us... they--”
The other boy took a step ahead and spoke with confidence.
“One of us smuggled some in, but we didn’t have any other choices. But now it’s over, there are no more suppressants anywhere in Masyaf.”
Altaïr nodded.
“I know. I had an order placed today, but I’m afraid it might take a few weeks. Do you think you can hold out until then?” He stared at both men as they shifted the weights on their feet. The whole atmosphere around them screamed uncomfortable. One of them began rubbing his hands together.
“We can try, sir.”
Definitely lies to make him feel better, but he appreciated the effort anyway. He was being unfair and he knew it.
“If you go into heat, lock yourselves in the upper rooms on the last floor. The halls are usually empty save for patrol.” After thinking about it, he added, “and if you know any others, tell them to do the same.”
“Yes, sir!”
With that, they bowed in respect and left, closing the door again. He just sentenced a group of people he doesn’t know to two or three more weeks of discomfort.
Altaïr laid down again, kicking the blanket. He knew people expected him to be a good leader, perhaps even better than Al Mualim and all he did in the past months was leave the order to take care of itself while he raided the mentor’s private study room for his own benefit. Huffing in annoyance, he turned to the side, looking out the window.
So much for trying to merit the title of mentor.
Re: It's For Life (Part 1)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-22 07:26 pm (UTC)(link)One of the things I really love in this, is that there is a build-up, and it's not just 'HEAT, NOW SEX'.
I love how the Brotherhood accepts Omegas, but still keeps them 'hidden', so as to make sure everyone is treated with equality.
Even if he is only mentioned in passing, I still hate Abbas..
Eagerly looking forward to part 2!
Author!anon here
(Anonymous) - 2013-03-22 20:13 (UTC) - ExpandRe: It's For Life (Part 1)
(Anonymous) - 2013-03-22 21:15 (UTC) - ExpandRe: It's For Life (Part 1)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-22 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)Re: It's For Life (Part 1)
(Anonymous) - 2013-03-25 14:30 (UTC) - ExpandIt's For Life (Part 2)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-26 01:21 am (UTC)(link)With that in mind, he chose one particular sunny day to silently ignore his duties and escape to the front courtyard. Many of the people there hadn’t seen him in a long time and stopped their training to look at at him, some bowing in respect, others just staring. At the gate, he noticed as Abbas turned around in disgust and walked the path down to the city, probably looking for an excuse not to be around.
The moment Rauf spotted him, he almost stopped in his tracks and turned around, afraid that the man would ask him to show his novices how to wield a blade properly. But when he thought better of it, he internally wished that would be the case - he hasn’t touched his sword in combat since Al Mualim’s passing and it ached to be handled again, ready to be used. Unfortunately, that did not seem the case as the bearded man simply tapped his shoulder and ordered him to approach and watch the progress his apprentices had made.
He did as was asked, and approached the training ring to observe. Rauf was quick to announce their “mentor” was watching so they better put on a show for him. Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms and watched as two men circled around a novice, waiting for him to attack. When it didn’t come, one of them went for an opening at his back but missed when the man in the middle sidestepped and used his own momentum to throw him on the ground. He was quick to come to his feet though and waited for the second one to attack so he could follow and attempt to break the cornered man’s defense. But the novice was good, and although he got hit a few times, he fared well in the battle and some of his companions around were cheering on him.
Altaïr was perhaps too engrossed in the battle to notice a pair of familiar eyes on him initially. It wasn’t until he glanced at Rauf to mention he was doing a good work at training them that he realized the instructor had been staring at him the whole time. He closed his mouth before he said anything and continued to watch as the match unveiled, but from the corner of his eyes he could see Rauf was still looking at him. Somehow it made him uncomfortable. If he had something to say, he should just come out and say it.
When the match ended, he didn’t even pay attention to the winner. All he could so was excuse himself as he returned inside. As he climbed back to the castle’s entrance, he could sense another powerful set of eyes on him, but this one he didn’t even need to look back to know who it belonged to. He had years of practice of Abbas’ burning glare on his back not to know.
----------
Had Altaïr not been so absorbed in his books, he would have noticed Malik had changed sooner. But as it was, he only noticed the constant staring after nearly a week and only because Rauf kept doing the same. Malik’s stare he was used to (the man was, after all, his best friend and right-hand man - he would have found it weird if he wasn’t looking after him the whole time), but the combat instructor’s? Pretending to be reading something, he looked around the room where other people had come in to clean the place. Malik wouldn’t stop throwing glances in his direction every few seconds - it was too much, even for him. It was starting to get annoying.
After the others left the vicinity, he turned to his friend, who didn’t even pretend he wasn’t caught staring and lowered his own book.
“Care to explain?”
“I’m not sure you’ll believe me.”
“Try me. This is starting to get on my nerves. Is there something on my face? You could have said it before.” To emphasize his point, Altaïr tapped his face twice with the palm of his hand, as if daring Malik to say it.
Malik went silent for a moment, probably thinking about what to say, until he eventually let out an almost inaudible “I actually have no idea. I simply can’t stop staring.”
“What do you mean you have no idea? You and Rauf have been breathing down my neck for the past week, it’s irritating and I can’t concentrate.”
Malik’s nose wrinkled in disgust, but his eyes were perplexed, which told him he didn’t even know the Rauf had been staring at Altaïr as well.
“It means I don’t know!” Malik huffed frustrated. “I know it’s annoying, trust me, every time I catch myself staring I look away but it’s not even a minute before I’m staring again.”
Altaïr opened his mouth again to make another retort when something came to his mind: his heat was starting. It had been just like the first (and only) time he had his cycle before. Everyone looked in his direction as if he was a piece of meat on display and he was only spared any unfortunate events because Al Mualim had noticed it as well before his heat had kicked in with force.
The master had explained it as an involuntary occurrence that caused the alphas nearby to be attracted to him before the cycle actually started. He described it as an instinct and Altaïr had to be most aware during this phase because he could still prevent it then.
He pinched the bridge of his nose - of course Malik wouldn’t know about it. There hasn’t been a case of heat in the order in decades, not since the suppressants started being distributed. Malik, as an alpha within the order, had never been near a heat cycle before! Nor Rauf or anyone else for that matter.
(Now that he thought about it, even Abbas’ glaring had been weird lately and the mere idea that his upcoming cycle was the cause made his stomach churn in disgust.)
With his eyes closed and fingers still massaging the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath. “I think I know why.”
Malik straightened his back when he heard it, showing that he was listening to it.
“Out with it then.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at his right-hand man so he focused on a book on top of his desk instead. He pressed two fingers to the cover and traced it down as if the material was something incredibly interesting.
“I think my heat cycle is about to begin.” He grimaced at the thought. “I was hoping it would happen after the suppressants arrived.”
Malik’s expression was as expected. His eyes immediately widened at the implication of his words and his mouth fell slightly open. But he was a man of reason and quickly recovered.
“That’s...”
“Complicated and to be kept a secret. I already have too much on my hands to deal with as it is now, I don’t want to add another problem to the list.”
He hoped Malik would understand what he meant by that. It was almost certain now that he would eventually be recognized as the rightful mentor of the order and never in the history of the brotherhood has existed a Grand Master who wasn’t an alpha. It was problematic already that some of the novices talked about his Christian lineage, he didn’t want to add another reason for the Assassins - for Abbas - to commit a coup d'état against him.
Malik nodded, putting his worries to rest. For a moment, he let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding. He never cared about what others thought of him, but was he really that concerned about how Malik saw him?
“I don’t think it would be well accepted.” Malik nodded.
“I hardly care about what they think of me, but I’m too busy to deal with more problems for now.”
Altaïr pretended to go back to reading his book and making annotations, but he knew Malik was still staring and couldn’t keep the façade for long. He felt judged under the other man’s eyes and it felt even worse than before confronting him about it.
“You never told me.” Came Malik’s low voice.
Altaïr lowered the quill on the table and glanced back at him. His eyes were intense, but with a tingle of betrayal.
“I never told anyone.” Not even Al Mualim, he wanted to add. He found out by himself.
“But you never told me.”
“And I wouldn’t have told you if it weren’t for this little problem of yours.” Annoyance, lack of sleep and a bit of shame made Altaïr close the book and stand up, gathering his things before it turned into an argument. “If you need me, I’ll be on the vacant rooms on the last floor.”
“What?”
“You don’t expect me to stay here and have half the order parading in because they can’t keep it in their pants, do you?” He marched for the door with books under his arms, but turned back and pointed a finger in his direction before reaching the door. “And clearly this is affecting you too, so I changed my mind: if you need me, don’t go looking for me.”
Malik wasn’t happy with the accusation but couldn’t counter it as it was clearly the truth. With nothing more to add, Altaïr left the room and walked the corridor until he reached the foot of the stairs and stopped. He forgot about something very important. He turned back the way he came, stopping in front of the open door to the room he had just left. Malik still looked grumpy but looked up at him nonetheless.
“What is it now?”
“Actually, I’ll need your help for this.”
He saw Malik raise an eyebrow before the other man spoke. “I’m not having sex with you because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
Ah, there was the rebuttal he had been cooking up. Altaïr decided to ignore it and go straight to the point.
“I don’t know how long it will last. I’ll need you to bring me breakfast and dinner.”
“Are you mad? You just said it yourself, you need distance from the alphas and you want me to come and bring you food? Altaïr, if we get close when you’re like that...” Closing his eyes for a second, he took a deep breath before opening them again. “If we get close neither of us will be able to keep control. You know that.”
“I know that and I also know that I can’t have anyone else send me food there. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m up there, I don’t want anyone to...” Altaïr stopped and took a step outside, looking around, making sure there was no one nearby. Despite the empty corridor, he took another step back in and closed the door, barely whispering. “I’m serious, Malik. We’ll both have to endure it.”
“Forget it. I’m not babysitting you just because of your problem. If you want my help, I’ll send someone to deliver food for you, but I’m not going there.”
Altaïr’s brows drew closer and he walked in Malik’s direction, never breaking eye contact.
“First you complain because I didn’t tell you about it before and now that I did you pretend to ignore it.”
Malik stood up, eye level with him, and hit his hand hard on the table.
“They’re two completely different things! I said I will help by sending someone else--”
“You know it can’t be anyone but you!”
“But this? You know how it will affect us both!”
“I just told you no one can know about my condition for political reasons - for the good of the order! - and you’re ignoring this because you’re too afraid to get near me during my heat? How little self-control do you have?”
Altaïr put the books down on his desk and slammed his hands against it, face to face with him. They were both red with anger and Malik’s breath on his face made him uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t back away.
“What are you afraid of, Malik? Huh?” He whispered in a threat. Malik’s eyes widened in response, but his brows furrowed and he was ready to counter, but Altaïr wouldn’t let him. In the next moment, he threw his hands in the air, taking a step back. “No, never mind, you’re right.” He said through gritted teeth. “I don’t need anyone who can’t keep their right state of mind near me.”
Altaïr collected the books and stormed out, not bothering to close the door. There was a poor novice walking the hallways and he nearly flattened himself against the wall in order not to get in the way of the stomping master Assassin. He didn’t care. The were many things swirling inside his head, from fury to shame to plans about what to do during the next few days he was going to spend locked in a room.
He made a quick stop in his own room before heading up, gathering his quill, another book for his own personal notes and a few candles to keep him going during the night. Hidden amongst the pillows on his mattress was an spheric object protected only by a single layer of dark fabric. He wouldn’t need the Apple, so there was no reason to bring it, but he considered it anyway. Malik would come back later to get it - it was a set rule between them: in Altaïr’s absence for whatever reason, Malik would be responsible for taking care of the artifact.
However, clouded by his current anger, he took it and tucked it under his robes. He knew Malik was against him studying the object excessively so he avoided doing it in front of him. But now was the perfect moment to take his sweet time learning about its mysterious purposes and piss off Malik when he came in and noticed he had taken it. Smiling to himself, he closed the door again and finally headed upstairs.
It had to be a joke when he turned right to keep climbing the stairs and none other than Abbas was heading down. For a second he froze and felt his palms sweating. Abbas’ presence usually was nothing more than an annoyance, never something intimidating. But due to his upcoming condition and the instinct he knew Abbas could pick up on, the thought of him learning about Altaïr actually being an omega was nothing more than a huge nightmare he didn’t want to dwell on for long. Nonetheless he was good at conceiving his emotions and glared at him instead, hoping it would do the trick to shut him up before he even started talking. Not wanting to give him the opportunity to start his usual rants about how much he hated Altaïr, he didn’t stop on his way and simply walked past him.
But the feeling he got that someone was watching his back annoyed him to no end. He knew Abbas had stopped to look him passing and it made him incredibly uncomfortable and anxious. Willing his feet to keep moving and pretending to ignore it, he continued on his tracks. He wasn’t going to look back and acknowledge it.
Finally at the top of the tower, Altaïr did the usual round, checking for any closed doors. None yet. A bitter smile crossed his face as he realized even the novices were faring better than him in this matter.
The rooms were all pretty much the same. A rug with colored pillows and a thin blanket for sleeping, a wooden desk and a simple chair. He deposited the books on the table, lit a candle and picked the one he had been reading to sit down on the cushions and continue where he had left off.
It would be a long day.
----------
You know, it annoys me how calm and reasonable Altaïr is in this fic. No, really, I'm well aware that he's slightly OOC in here. I'm writing another AltMal for another fill here at the same time where he's a lot more snarky and hardheaded so writing this calmer Altaïr feels almost like an itchy spot in your back that you can't reach. In my defense, this is not because of omega traits (which I didn't even take in consideration when writing this), but because of the time this fic is set on. My headcanon is that after Al Mualim's death Altaïr was too sad (not depressed) to be a dick all the time so he tended to busy himself with the Apple or Al Mualim's things in order to forget about it. Think Revelations!Altaïr. Actually, I basically had Revelations!Altaïr in mind when writing this, in part because Revelations!Altaïr is my favorite. I hope I haven't scared anyone away yet because of this; ;A;
Re: It's For Life (Part 2)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-26 03:40 am (UTC)(link)And very ominous foreshadowing with Abbas there, writeanon. I'm getting a really bad feeling that he's gonna show up before Malik does. ono
And totally wanting that to happen, fml.Re: It's For Life (Part 2)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-29 03:04 am (UTC)(link)Oh Malik, you better get that stick out of your arse before someone decides to take advantage of your soon to be incapacitated Mentor...Or not
Keep up the fantastic work!
Re: It's For Life (Part 2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-21 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)Re: It's For Life (Part 2)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-26 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)It's For Life (Part 13)
(Anonymous) 2013-04-29 04:32 am (UTC)(link)He had thrashed around during the night and somehow rolled to the cold ground (which he was partly thankful for, considering how warm he felt). The blanket had been discarded to the side and the pillows were everywhere. His skin burned. It was nothing like he had remembered. It had been bad then, but this was something else. He was feverish, that much was obvious. He pressed his heated cheek against the ground in an attempt to cool himself, but it wasn’t enough. The robes he wore now felt too hot, too constrictive.
Of course, there was also that small nuisance between his legs as well. He pressed his groin against the cold stone, hoping it would help somehow, but it only made it worse, so he retreated. Without thinking about it, his hands moved to remove the red sash and throw it to the side, next to the blanket. He proceeded to remove his cowl and robes, also discarding them and staying only with his breeches on. Laying back down on the cold ground felt like a soft bed against his back and he hissed at the welcoming sensation. However he knew that would not be enough.
Glancing to the side he noticed the books on top of the desk he had brought to read during his stay here. He knew he wasn’t in his right state of mind to even concentrate properly on them. Such a waste of time. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. What a headache. Never again would he forget about the stupid suppressants.
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It had been a while since the sun rose in the sky and it entered through the window in a cruel manner. There were no curtains in the room, nothing Altaïr could use to protect him from it and his skin burned even more with the intensity of the sun. Noon would likely be even worse.
It must have still been relatively early in the morning when he heard a scraping noise from the other side of the door. Raising an eyebrow he took notice of the faint sound of footsteps retreating fast and disappearing entirely in the hallway and down the stairs. Gathering enough energy to get up, he moved to the door and opened it slightly. He glanced both ways and didn't see anyone, or anything, until he looked down. On his feet stood a round tray with bread, water and some herbs.
It took him a while to realize what had happened, but when he did, he took the tray inside and mentally thanked his friend for the trouble. He had hoped Malik wouldn’t actually abandon him, he never did. But he also knew what he had asked of Malik and exactly what it had implied.
While eating Altaïr thought back about his first heat. Back then he had someone help him get over it, but now... Truthfully, the only person he could think of helping him with his problem was Malik and he wasn't as disgusted at the thought as he should have been. That in itself made him worry his condition was affecting his way of thinking as well.
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Spending the rest of his time thinking about it was no use and it only made him all the more self conscious about the throbbing pain between his legs (he did consider offering it the comfort of his hand for a while, but that hadn't worked in the past and it only left him with a tired fist and a burn in his palm, something he never forgot about). Instead, he decided to ignore it as best as he could by focusing on something else. Reading was out of the way, so he turned to the Apple instead. He was bewitched by the wonders it contained. As soon as he had more time and things calmed down enough he'd have Malik trace the figures it showed. He was still considering the possibility of such a thing, but he was starting to believe it was, in fact, a map of a world greater than they knew. If it turned out to be true, he was not sure what to do with such a knowledge other than leave it for future generations to use.
This time he managed to pick up the sound of someone walking outside. At first he thought nothing of it as it was probably just a guard making his rounds. But as the silent footsteps seemed to approach his room instead, he raised his head.
Something inside him made him put the Apple aside to get up and walk towards the door. He stared at it as if he could see through it. He knew someone was there and he had a feeling he knew who it was.
Once again he heard the scraping sound of the wooden tray against the floor. The other person was going to leave soon.
“Malik?”
No footsteps. He wasn’t leaving. Altaïr bit his bottom lip. Tentatively he approached the door and touched the unrefined wood with the tip of his fingers. Slowly his head moved forward and he closed his eyes when it touched the door. He took in a deep breath and knew exactly what was happening to him. He was sure of it now, it was Malik, in more ways than one.
But still no response came from the other side, just an unbearable silence. For a moment he wondered if his right-hand man could sense it too. Yet all too soon the man spoke at last.
“If the order wasn’t in desperate need of a mentor right now, I swear I’d let you starve to death.”
Ragged voice, that annoying tone he knew Malik only made when he wanted to hide something, the sound of shuffling cloth. Too many years practicing eavesdropping made Altaïr pick up on every minucius detail about him. Or maybe he was already too clouded with lust to tell the difference, it didn't matter.
His free hand roamed through his chest and downwards. The one at the door closed in a tight fist. His thoughts quickly vanished of anything else when all he could think about was slipping his hand to the lock and opening the door for him. This is bad, it’s bad, it’s...
Footsteps walking away. Waking from his trance, Altaïr glared at the door as if he could melt it by willpower alone and wanted to yell Malik’s name, ask him to come back. They didn’t even need to be on the same space, he just wanted the reassuring feeling that his friend was there on the other side. But he managed to keep enough self-control to contain it.
He would not give Malik the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
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^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-04-29 04:34 am (UTC)(link)He tried thinking back about his first heat so many years ago and how he dealt with it then. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to salvage from his first experience - it had been short as Al Mualim had found it out before Altaïr even entered the stage and he only spent a few hours in it before--
Altaïr turned his head in the door’s direction as a faint glow entered from beneath, probably from a candle. Someone was outside (and he hadn’t heard them, which meant whoever it was made sure to be imperceptible). If there was one good thing about his condition it was how sharp his senses became. His skin felt the cold stones beneath him, every solid detail of the texture as if he had never felt the ground before. He could swear even his hearing and vision became clearer, better. So he waited and breathed slowly.
He heard the person outside step forward, slowly on his tiptoes. As silently as possible, Altaïr raised from his spot and walked in their direction, wanting to get closer, wanting to open the door and invite them. Only there was something at the back of his mind telling him not to and he knew why; he knew exactly what would happen if he opened the door. But the part of him that wanted it was speaking louder.
Just then fast footsteps approached and Altaïr retreated his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Malik’s voice and he didn’t seem happy.
“Patrolling. I thought I heard something up here.”
Altaïr twisted his nose in disgust at Abbas’ voice. Damn him.
“Your patrol duty is at the gate, not up here. Now get down to the dining hall or go to your room without dinner, I don’t care. But the upper floors are none of your concern.”
There was a pause and he saw Abbas’s shadow cast from beneath the door shift his weight before taking a few steps.
“I don’t take orders from you, only from the mentor, and your friend just murdered him. ”
“Yes, you do. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re still a guard and I’m still a dai and your superior. Now get your ass out of here before I do it myself.”
Abbas was noticeably uncomfortable, walking around nonstop. If Altaïr knew him well - and he did - he was probably looking for a way out or something to exploit. Whatever it was it was never a good thing.
“Why the food tray?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The rooms in these halls have always remained vacant and open to all, why are they all locked now? What are you hiding?”
Altaïr hated not being able to see what happened behind the door. Malik was getting pissed off and he knew what his friend was capable of doing when he lost his temper. (More or less, he was the living proof of it anyway.)
“Abbas, I’m warning you.”
“What are you plotting?” Abbas’ voice was firm and low now. His shadow indicated he was near Malik and probably attempting to intimidate the other man. He threaded on dangerous ground. “First Altaïr rid us of our mentor now you’re all full of secrets. You’re both destroying this entire brotherhood, planning something against us all. I don’t think I’ll let you do it.”
This is the part Altaïr couldn’t tell what happened, but Abbas had probably touched or done something to malik that set the whole thing off. The next moment there was a loud cnoise from the wooden tray crashing on the floor along with the food. A punch was heard and then someone tumbled down the stairs - violently apparently, because there was a scream.
“You! You miserable... I can’t believe-- You’re as twisted as that rotten friend of yours! You’re all going to burn and I’ll make you pay for this.”
Abbas ran away and Altaïr opened the floor quickly, stepping outside. There were a few drops of blood along with food on the ground and definitely some on Malik’s hand as well, as he shook it slightly from the pain of crashing it right against Abbas’ nose. His right-hand man stood in front of him, facing the other way where the coward had fled.
“He’s getting dangerous.” Altaïr spoke calmly, watching the stairs as well.
“And I don’t like it. No wonder Al Mualim threw him in a dungeon once.”
“He threw me there as well.” He cast a glance at Malik, but the man didn’t turn his way.
“You’re not dangerous, just dumb. When are you going to get rid of him? Are you going to wait until he truly does something worse?”
Altaïr shook his head, even if the other man couldn’t see him. “If the master could correct him, so can I.” He wanted to try at least. If anything, he owed Abbas that much since they used to be friends.
“Then you are dumb and naïve.”
No more was spoken and a heavy silence fell in place. Still Malik wouldn’t look at him.
“Malik.”
“I’m serious, Altaïr. He is getting dangerous.” Malik turned slightly, but his head hang low, only glancing at Altaïr’s feet for a second before turning to the food mess. “Don’t ever open that door unless you’re certain it’s me.”
“You want me to open the door for you?” He raised an eyebrow and did his best to contain a cocky smile.
For a second Malik stared right at him, annoyance clear in his face, before he turned away again. “You know what I meant.” Deeming the conversation to be over, Malik walked in the stair’s direction.
“Malik.” Altaïr followed.
“I’m going to send someone to clean the mess.”
“Malik.” He fastened his pace after his friend who was already descending the stairs.
“I’ll bring you more food.”
“Malik!”
Dumb and naïve perhaps, but he had the eyes of an eagle and knew Malik better than anyone. Altaïr knew him well enough to realize that when he violently yanked Malik’s arm back and pulled him up the stairs with him in one swift movement, the other man actually let him. Even with one arm Malik was strong enough to have stopped him if he wanted to.
But Malik didn’t stop him and Altaïr had a feeling he knew why as well. He pulled the other man close enough to face him and now Malik couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked and his fist tightened against the front of Malik’s robe, pulling him closer.
Malik looked him up and down and opened his mouth to say something, but lingered a while longer before actually speaking.
“Altaïr, seriously, don’t.”
“Why?”
“Let me go.”
“Give me a reason to.”
“I could give you many, but the only one that matters right now is that you’re not thinking coherently.”
He didn’t want to. The only thought in his mind was to pull Malik with him to the room and lock them both inside. It took him a sheer amount of willpower to timidly open his hand and let him go, though his fingers still lingered on Malik’s chest and the other didn’t seem to mind it all that much. They were still close, none of them having moved, and still could feel Malik’s breath close to his face like the day before, only he didn’t seem annoyed by it anymore.
It took him even more willpower to turn around and go back to his temporary room. He waited with his back against the wood, hand on the key. Just when he was about to turn it and lock it for the rest of the night, Malik yanked it open and turned him around. The door closed again after Malik claimed his lips in a possessive kiss.
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This shouldn’t be much longer now, probably three or four more chapters, but I’m usually wrong about these predictions so it could turn out a lot longer or a lot shorter than that, don’t take my word for granted. There may or may not be porn on the next chapter, seriously, I suck at it.
Quizz time: can you figure out who was the one who “helped” Altaïr through his first heat? (hint, hint: the answer is in one of the parts posted until now, can you find it?)
Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-04-29 08:50 am (UTC)(link)author!anon here
(Anonymous) - 2013-05-07 03:41 (UTC) - ExpandRe: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-05-06 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) - 2013-05-07 03:44 (UTC) - ExpandRe: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-07-12 11:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-09-16 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2013-11-28 03:48 am (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2014-10-10 03:38 pm (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2015-01-30 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)Really looking forwardT-T
Will you come back? Plz
Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2016-06-04 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)I'm wating as well, wanna know what will happen next T_T
Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2017-03-17 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2019-01-01 05:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2019-01-01 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
(Anonymous) 2019-11-25 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)