Author's Note: IMPORTANT!
Thanks an "amazing" citizen who obviously has a lot going on in their life, I have been reported (if you're curious who, check out my reviews). Therefore, I will never post the sex scenes on this website. If you want to see the second chapter either go to my Deviant Art account (ParadoxdelaPaladino) or type in "Paradox de la Paladino + Dark Desires + Adult Fanfiction" into google and either my profile will come up (you can find the fic under "games") or my fanfiction will come up.
Please let me know what you think. I really appreciate reviews because it actually makes me want to write. It's hard to write when there are over 1200 hits and 12 reviews and one is someone who has nothing better to do than report me.
A lone man sat in his study, his chin propped up with one hand and his other absent mindedly shifting through the papers on his desk. A knock interrupted his reverie and one of his templar knights entered the door.
"Master de Sable, are you not preparing to leave for Arsuf?" the templar asked of his master. Cold blue eyes slowly shifted their way to the inquirer.
"I've made a slight change of plans. It seems that I will be going to the funeral after all," he drawled out in his low baritone voice before going back to this mindless task.
"But Sir! The Assassin! He will surely be there!"
"I realize that, Thomas, and the last thing that I want to do is disappoint our dear friend," Robert looked Thomas dead in the eye with a growing smirk on his face.
"As you say so, Sir. I will inform the others of your change of plans," Thomas nervously uttered before quickly closing the door behind him.
Robert sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling as if it contained some great play.
"Soon, my little Assassin friend, I will show you the true meaning of defeat."
A laugh echoed through the castle walls.
"You are foolish! Stop rushing in, Altair, you'll be the dead of us!" Malik yelled at his voluntarily mute companion.
"I know what I'm doing!" Altair snarled back before jumping from the shadows, blade extended towards Robert de Sable.
As if anticipating his move, Robert turned around and grabbed Altair's arm with the extended blade and used the other hand to dig his fingers into Altair's right hip, paralyzing him with the pain.
Altair fell to the floor.
"Foolish Assassin," he uttered with a devious smile.
Slowly, Solomon's temple began to change, the walls slowly smudged together to look like a freakish oil painting and Robert's guards and Altair's assassins simply evaporated from the scene. Altair observed this all with horror before turning to look back up at Robert.
He was met with cold blue eyes staring at him. If those eyes contained a desire for his death, Altair would have understood. However, those eyes bore into Altair's and all they had was a carnal tint to them.
"It seems we are alone . . . Assassin," Robert growled before all Altair could see were his eyes, his icy blue eyes as he felt Robert descend on him.
Altair awoke with a start, wishing to scream but finding that his voice was somehow paralyzed. He looked around the room in alarm, but found the familiar pillows and rugs of the Assassin's bureau. He was in Jerusalem, he remembered, where he would need to face Robert.
Altair inwardly groaned. His nightmares of Robert had increased ever since Al Mualim had told him to go to Jerusalem and assassinate Robert. For the past few days of gathering up information on him in the city, Altair had been having the same dreams, each one creepier and more real than the one before it.
He slowly got up and brushed the wrinkles from his tunic before gathering up his weapons and going to find Malik.
"Good morning, Malik."
"Ah, Altair, I believe you've found all your information?"
"I have."
"Good," Malik finally stopped looking through his books and glanced at Altair, "Altair, what is wrong with your eyes? It looks as if you had no sleep."
Altair smiled slightly as Malik's genuine concern.
"It's nothing," Altair brushed back some of his longer strands of hair, a nervous habit. Malik seemed unconvinced. Remembering the nightmares, Altair suddenly had a small wave of guilt brush over him.
"Malik, I also wanted to tell you something."
"What is it?"
"I apologize for what happened at Solomon's Temple. For your brother and your arm. I was truly being arrogant."
"I cannot accept your apology, Altair, for you are no longer the same man. Furthermore, my anger towards you has been replaced by worry. The past few days that you have been in my bureau while gathering information on your next target, you have seemed on edge and I can hear your fitful slumber from my room. What ails you, my friend?"
There's just no getting by him, is there! Once he latches on something, he doesn't stop until he's drawn blood.Altair furrowed his eyebrows in irritation.
"It's nothing, really, just a few pointless dreams. Don't we have more important matters before us?" Altair snapped back before putting on his hood. Malik gave a deep sigh, clearly giving up with reasoning with the most hard-headed assassin he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.
"Perhaps another time. Take this and be on your way," Malik handed Altair a white feather, which was promptly snatched and stashed somewhere in the confines of Altair's belt.
"Sir, shall we still use the decoy?"
"Yes."
"What shall we do about the assassin?"
"Capture him any way you can and bring him to me, alive."
"I shall alert the guards."
Thanks to the scholars, Altair perfectly blended into the funeral, making his way to the very front and began to scout out his target. Between his scouting, bits and pieces of his dream seemed to worm into his thoughts. An assassin should have a clear head in order to focus on the task beforehand. Altair internally scolded himself before tuning back in to the world around him.
" . . . and he is right here before us! Kill the assassin!" Out of quick reflex to the threat, Altair drew his blade and began attacking whoever was in front of him – luckily a templar. Using his rage against his dream, Altair quickly dispatched of the minor guards before locating Robert and began attacking. Right before he stabbed him, Altair managed to remove Robert's helmet.
"What sorcery is this?" Altair exclaimed because instead of seeing Robert, he was face to face with a woman.
"We knew you would be here, so Robert has left for Arsuf," the templar told him with a smile.
"You are not my target. I will not take your life," Altair spoke before he sheathed his sword and began sprinting away from the funeral, which was beginning to become vastly populated with guards.
He began to climb a building and narrowly dodged a few rocks, courtesy of the templars, as he made his way to the roof. With a racing heart and a clouding mind, Altair began dashing from building to building.
"Foolish assassin!"
Altair stumbled over some wooden board and fell the building below. A mistake only a rookie could make. What is wrong with me? This dream haunts me in my sleep and now it must follow me while I'm awake?Altair quickly climbed back on to the building above, narrowly escaping the blade of an angry guard. Quickly unsheathing his sword, Altair stabbed the guard in the stomach, effectively killing him, before sheathing his sword and running again.
His steps were fast, but unsure, almost as if Altair had forgotten how to run. He suddenly felt nauseas, as if this was his very first escape from the guards. Finally, he dove into a garden on the roof and slumped against its side as another wave of nausea overcame him.
"It seems we are alone . . . Assassin,"
"Get out of my head!" Altair yelled as he stood up, bfriefly forgetting where he was, and ran out of the garden, only to stumble towards the edge of the roof top, lose his footing and fall to the ground below.
He heard screams all around him as people darted to and fro. Altair slowly got up, still dizzy from the fall and trying to remember what had just happened.
The last thing Altair felt was a dull blow to the back of his head before everything went black.
AN: To read the next chapter, please read the Author's Notes. :)