(Some of these will be short drabbles, whereas others will be longer while still not quite fitting my personal requirements to be labeled as full-fledged fics. I suppose you could think of them as ficlets or short stories, idk. Either way, I hope some of you find at least a bit of entertainment in them.
Critique and advice is lovely, by the way. I always like to improve my writing, even in small tidbits like these.)
After he married his wife, Altaïr had made a promise to himself. He wanted no secrets in their relationship, and made an effort to share everything with her, whether it was embarrassing or damning or even simply trivial, it didn't matter. He told her of everything.
Except for one thing. The Apple.
He kept the artifact hidden away from nearly everyone, of course - but for the most part the Brotherhood was unaware that he had been studying the Piece of Eden as of late. Being one of the few men he could wholeheartedly trust, Malik knew, and made his displeasure obvious on a routine basis - Altaïr had no doubt his wife would share the one-armed Dai's sentiments, and her chastisement would be just as sharp, if not sharper.
So when he went to his study one evening and found Maria rifling through the journal at his desk, he rushed in the room, hoping to get it out of her grasp before she discovered too much.
But when she looked up at him, it wasn't with the expression of scorn he'd been expecting; instead, a small smile played at her mouth (such an uncommon sight) and her steely gray eyes shone with amusement. Altaïr schooled his face into his typical neutral mask, but Maria had noticed his initial bewilderment, of course.
"Why, you are quite adept at hiding things, aren't you?" she asked, watching him with narrowed eyes. She didn't take her hands off the journal. "I suppose I should have expected no less when marrying an assassin."
Altaïr wasn't quite sure what to make of her words - did she find his notes on the Apple? No, that didn't explain her reaction. "I don't know what you mean," he said slowly, taking a careful step closer, his amber eyes glancing to the desk briefly before settling back on Maria. "What have I been hiding?"
Maria scoffed, then picked up the journal, opening it and turning her back on Altaïr. He tried to step around her to see, but she kept shifting just so, keeping the book out of his sight. Childish tactics were not beneath her. "Your artistic streak," she explained, flipping through a few pages, then made a pleased sort of hum. "I had no idea a man of your bloody profession would be capable of such talent. I thought you too brutish, simple-minded."
Not even acknowledging the insults (he long ago learned to ignore them, between Malik's jibes and Maria's fondness for name-calling), Altaïr couldn't help but let out his breath in a relieved sigh. She only found his sketches. If he believed in any gods, he likely would have thanked them.
"You are insufferably nosy, has anyone ever told you that?" he complained irritably, reaching around her in an attempt to snatch the journal from her grasp, but she skirted away expertly. Damn the woman. "That is mine, you devilish imp."
"Oh, I know it's yours. What of it?" She laughed again, but stopped slinking away from him, thin fingers lightly tracing over the lines on a page. Her lips quirked up into another rare smile, this time not one of mockery, and Altaïr knew which sketch she was admiring even before she spoke. "Do you really see me like this? Surely I am not so... beautiful."
Altaïr took his journal from her, looking at the page to see the portrait he had drawn of Maria, donned in Templar armor with her mouth twisted in a barely-visible smirk, her eyes determined and sharp, with the last finishing touch being an intricate border framing the image. It felt like he had sketched it centuries ago, but she looked no less stunning now as she did then. "Yes," he said simply, shutting the leather-bound journal. "In my eyes, you will never be anything short of beautiful."
(Initially I had wanted Malik to be the one to steal Altaïr's sketches, and find that there were actually some of him, with much mockery and snark from Malik and Altaïr being sheepish for a change, but I'unno. I was compelled to write Maria for the first time instead. Maybe I'll do the other idea later. Maybe not. :V)
