Rating: none.
Summary: small drabble on Altaïr and Malik.
Author's Note: hopefully a warm-up to more fics about them ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Assassin's Creed characters, Ubisoft does.
"What do you intend to do with her, Master?"
"We're alone, brother," Altaïr sighed tiredly, unbuckling his belts and putting them aside. "There is no need to be so formal."
Malik leaned on the closed door and watched the man took off his hood and weapons.
"All right. But my question remains unanswered."
Altaïr didn't speak at once, he cleaned up his equipment, then approached the window and looked upon the wide sea.
"I do not know yet. And I am troubled by this, because she still believes the Templars were not at fault."
"Why do you care what she believes?" asked Malik, furrowing his brows. "Why did you even spared her life in the first place?"
The Grand Master of Assassins didn't answer, nor did he look at his friend.
"Is she not our enemy?" insisted Malik.
Altaïr remained silent, as if he did not hear intrusive questions. The other man stepped forward and slammed his hand upon the desk.
"Did she not try to decieve and kill you?" he asked angrily, but the back of his companion remained cold and unmoved. He calmed himself after a while, taking his hand off the wood. "She reminds you of Adha, doesn't she." he stated and that finally drew a reaction from the man. Altaïr's shoulders twitched and he turned around.
"Adha has nothing to do with that."
"Of course! But that doesn't mean she's not the reason behind your saving Maria Thrope."
"Worry not, my brother." Altaïr approached his desk and rearranged a few pages that were scattered there. "She is locked up and guarded. And if she ever tries to harm the Order I will not hesitate to eliminate her."
"You did once."
"What do you want me to do now? Go there and kill a defenceless prisoner?"
"No. I want you to think about your reasons. Prisoner or not, she may still be danger to us. Do not let her fool you, women such as her don't hesitate to use all their attributes to manipulate a man's heart and judgement."
Altaïr smiled delicately and looked up at his friend.
"I was indeed wise to appoint you as my right-hand man." he slowly nodded his head. "I will remember your advice."
"Good." said Malik, but his voice and face didn't seem to be pleased.
Altaïr looked at him, then approached his companion and put one hand on his shoulder.
"Fear not," he said, lowering his voice, "I will not let her manipulate my judgement... or my heart. You have my word."
"There is no room for fear in my soul, not anymore." said Malik stubbornly and looked up. He wanted to show his discontent, yet it was hard for him to remain so stern under Altaïr's warm gaze. That was such a rare view.
"Of course there isn't." the man smiled and leaned forward placing a soft kiss on his friend's cheek.
Malik sighed and gave in. He knew he would, eventually, so there was no reason to object. He held Altaïr with his arm and pulled him closer, kissing him back.
Now he truly did not fear.