Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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∆ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

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Jealousy Makes for Ugly Clothing pt.2

[(Anonymous)]

He left the clothes on the counter, almost hoping someone would come in and steal them as he slept. When they were still there the next morning, he snarled maliciously, scaring the novice that had been waiting. He was in a terrible mood, more than usual, and it continued to get worse with every passing day. He sent letters out to all of his acquaintances that he knew wore black robes, but every letter came back negative.

Finally, he was sitting at the bureau counter, ink next to him, and he was trembling with jealousy and rage. He was in one Hell of a mood, and it was affecting the picture of the little bird he had seen outside that he was drawing. He looked when someone came through the roof.

“The novices are cowering outside—”

“Finally you came! Honestly! I thought you were smarter than this!”

He got a vicious sort of satisfaction from the confused look on Altair's face. He walked around the counter, snarling at the faces of the novices peeking in from the roof. He didn’t realize Altair was wearing a set of hoodless white robes.

“What are you talking—”

“Did I not tell you that learning to read and write is every bit as important as learning the proper method of killing?”

Altair frowned. “And I have made sure all novices learn such things.”

“Apparently not!” Malik was in rage mode. “Then you need to teach them such a thing as common sense!”

“What are you talking about?”

He gestured to the robes. “Some idiot novice of yours—”

“Of mine?” Altair said with a smirk.

Malik snarled, “Yes! Of yours! There is no one that stupid who could not have come from you! He left these clothes here without any indication of who they were for! The vendor was of no help, and there was not even a note! I have been trying to figure out who they are for—”

“Malik.”

“—for several weeks now with no success! They have been taking up space here, gathering dust and waiting for someone to claim them!”

“Malik,” Altair snapped, his lips turning downward.

Malik fell silent, giving him a glare that would’ve melted iron. Altair walked over to the clothes and picked them up, holding them out to him.

“They are for you.”

It took him a bit to register the words, and when he did, he scoffed and waved his hand dismissively, walking back behind the counter.

“Do not joke like that. I thought you were above such idiocy, but every day you prove me wrong.”

He plopped down at his seat, staring at the picture of the bird. It really was adorable. He cursed Altair under his breath: he didn’t have the energy to continue running on full rage now that he had let the brunt of it out.

“I am not joking, Malik. I bought these for you.”

He scoffed again, resting his head in his hand and glaring at the picture, wishing the innocent bird to explode. “You jest. Just leave them there, Altair. I will find their rightful owner eventually.”

“Malik.”

He saw the clothes appear next to him. “Will you never give up this joke? There is no reason for me to dress in such superfluously fancy clothes. I am nothing more than a mapmaker now. These robes have served me well, and will serve me well until I return to the earth. Besides, surely you did not buy these. What a waste of money.”

He looked at Altair, glaring, and saw the frown on his face. “I bought these for you at the same time I bought mine.”

Malik then saw the new robes that he was wearing. They were white, a plain and cheap color, with red edges and black pants—the same black that the other set of robes was. His boots were also dyed black, and Malik scoffed as he appraised them.

“How noble of you, spending more on a gift for someone else than yourself. Now get these clothes out of my sight. I don’t care if you bought them or not. Just get them out of this bureau.”

“No,” came the immediate and defiant response.

He heard a crash off to the side as one of the novices fell in from leaning in too far to hear what was going on. He sneered at Altair. “Yes.”

“As the grand master of the assassins, I order you to put these on.”

Malik laughed. It was derisive and cold. “How childish. Why does it matter what clothes I wear?”

“Because I wish to signify your position as co-leader of the assassins.”