AN: Here's another little something staring my new favorite fandom, I just get over these two.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I use them to play out the things in my head.
Altaїr sits hunched over his desk, quill scratching away at a piece of parchment by the dying light of day that filters in through the window behind him. His head aches something horrible and he was just now realizing that he hadn't eaten anything all day, but there was work that needed to get done, and no one else was going to do it for him, or rather he didn't want anyone else doing it.
He'd seen things in the Apple, important things that he had to record for fear of forgetting the details. Altaïr had never been much of a scribe; he had always loathed formal classes on writing and history in his youth and didn't seem that he had grown to think different of it since.
In his frenzy of scratching Altaïr had failed to hear the padding of footsteps echoing up the stairs.
"Busy as ever it seems," Malik says walking up besides the desk, setting down a plate of food before his master, causing him to stop his frantic writing, "you keep neglecting your own needs like this brother, and your ridding the brotherhood of that traitor would have been for nothing."
Altair just stares at his friend with thankful eyes and the best smile he can muster at the moment.
"Thank you Malik" the words fall heavily from Altaïr's lips, his voice shaky from not speaking for some time.
"It is no trouble at all my friend," the older man says a hand on Altaïr's shoulder as he leans in close to place a soft kiss on his master's forehead, "you make me worry though." Malik seats himself atop his master's desk, careful not to disturb any of the piles of scrolls and parchments.
"I can only imagine the worry I put you through, and I am deeply sorry for that Malik" Altaïr says, amber eyes wondering his friend's features, taking in the smile that tugs at his thin lips.
"What I do not understand is why you bother with this work on your own; we both know that scribing has never been your strong suite" Malik says mockingly, reaching out and ruffling the younger man's short hair, earning Malik one of Altaïr's rare genuine smiles, "why don't you just let me handle the paperwork, give yourself more time to take care of more pressing matters?"
Altaïr heaves a heavy sigh,
"That's has crossed my mind more than once my friend, but I do not think I want to share this burden with you Malik," Altaïr says taking the Apple in his hand, its metal surface warm in his hand, and it gives off a subtle glow through the grooves in its exterior, "this thing…it holds information that is unlike anything we've been brought up to know Malik, I've seen things within that have happened in the past that seem unbelievable but have taken place nonetheless, things that are forgot to us..." Altaïr says trailing off, amber eyes growing distant in his recollections.
"I fear what might happen to anyone else if I were to let them gaze upon this cursed thing, for I fear there is a price one pays for taking its knowledge, what price that is I do not know yet, but I certainly feel it" he looks back up at Malik hoping to find any kind of understanding of his features.
"You do not think me worthy of the information within the Apple then, is that it?"
Altaïr shakes his head slowly as he sets the golden orb back onto the desk and takes his friend's hand in both of his, the thumb of his left hand rubbing at the back of it. He does not speak for some time, going over the words in his mind before he gives them voice, careful not to offend the older man before him.
"No it is not that, for as you know, you are worthy of far too many thing my friend…it's just that I need someone else close to me who I can trust, who is not tainted by this thing…someone to keep me here." Altaïr's words come out measured and precise, Altaïr's grip tightens on Malik's hand and looking into his friend's eyes he says, "I need you to keep me here Malik, to give me something to keep me in this world."
Malik feels something pull at his heart at the look in his master's eyes, Altaïr so desperately wants him to believe in his words and even though the things Malik hears are hard to comprehend, something in him knows that Altaïr speaks nothing but the truth.
Pushing himself off the desk and gives a slight tug on his hand, Altaïr eyes his friend questioningly but then stands to his full height, a whole three inches taller than his older friend. Malik takes his hand from his master's and bringing it up to stroke Altaïr's cheek. Never before has he ever seen his friend's features so tired, he seems older than he is, if not wiser. Their eyes meet, dark brown gazing into amber that no longer belong to a killer, but to a man that knows and has seen too much.
"Is there no other way?"
"I have to do this Malik, the sake of everything we know depends on it."
"Then if there is no other way," Malik leans in closer and pressing his lips to Altaïr's kisses him softly, hand still on the younger man's cheek, "Altaïr, my friend, my brother, my master," his voice crakes and fills his eyes well up with tears, "my love, my heart…if you fear that delving into this thing might take you from here… from me, then I will do everything in my power to make certain that does not happen." Malik says shoulder's shaking just the slightest from held back sobs.
Altaïr brings his friend into a tight embrace and holds him close, fingers running through and tangling into Malik's dark hair.
"Thank you brother"
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