Efflorescent Feelings
Chapter 2

Author Notes: Wow, first day that I put up the story and I had two pages full of emails letting me know I have people favoriting the story, and story alerting it. Thanks guys! Glad you like it, and I hope you like this chapter also :)

OH and as a side note, I just wanted to let everyone know I have been known to take requests for tiny things if they aren't to out there as to disturb the storyline. You can let me know of any by e-mail (it's on my profile), deviantart, or in a review.

Special shout out to these amazing people for reviewing and letting me know I am doing alright: Sophie Aiyana, RueLi, and Sweetpeacee.


Malik awoke a few hours after Altaïr had taken refuge in the bureau. The other man was being so quiet, he hadn't noticed him resting on the cushions. He yawned, stretched and stood walking around the room, unaware of the amber eyes gazing at him from the other room. He paused and stared down at the sleeve of his white shirt, waving slightly from his movements. His dream had been so realistic, that he almost forgot the truth of his arms amputation. He cradled it in his hand, closing his eyes as he lowered his head, as if he was mourning the loss of the arm.

Watching this, Altaïr couldn't help but feel more horrible than he already had. He lowered his head and stared at his boots, biting his lip. The feelings he was feeling at that moment, were really hard to describe. His heart ached for the loss of his friend and brother, Kadar, even though it was seven long years ago. He pained for his friend's loss of his arm, and wished that Allah would take his arm and give it to Malik, who deserved it more than he.

Malik let out a small yelp as he began to tip over, loosing his balance as he reminisced having an arm. Altaïr was swift on his feet, and behind him pulling him upright before he made it even close to the floor, which shocked the other man since he was not aware of the other's presence. "Thank you," he said, watching as he nodded and went back to his cushions. 'He actually remembered to remove his hood,' he thought to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "How long have you been there?"

"A few hours, I didn't want to wake you," he stated.

Malik scrunched his nose up, mad at the fact he allowed himself to doze off, especially in front of this particular assassin. He kept his gaze fixed on him, watching him as he stared at the wall as if it was interesting. The air was filled with tension, mostly from Malik, as he didn't make any move to leave the spot he was glued in. He hoped he was making Altaïr feel uncomfortable, but as soon as the thought raced in his mind, he found himscolding himself.

"Are... you alright, brother?"

Malik blinked, looking up at the other, who was looking at him with interest. He could only assume that his expression on his face had contorted into something odd, and nodded his head, walking into the store room, and looking for something to eat. "Are you hungry?" The fast padding sound of Altaïr's feet could be heard second's before he arrived next to the Dai, answering his question as he looked around at the food that was stored. "I... take that as a yes," he stated softly, grabbing a few items and setting them down on the table set in the middle of the room. "We're out of beef..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "Stay here, I need to head out and get some."

Altaïr blinked and took Malik's bad shoulder, to stop him, only getting an aggravated glare. He quickly let go, and held his hands up in surrender. "I had a question," the assassin stated, defending himself from the Dai's cold stare. Malik huffed in annoyance, then looked at him, as if telling him to continue with his question. "Where exactly are the market places? I was told that Malon Al Damon forbid them two years ago."

The Dai seemed troubled by his question, sliding his hand in his pocket and nodding grimly. "You were well informed. Yes, he did outlaw marketplaces two years ago. But of course, people still manage to keep them up. Come with me, I'll show you one." He pulled the assassin out, pulled out a set of keys and locked the storeroom door, heading to the bureau opening. Altaïr watched carefully, as Malik slipped the keys in his pocket, and hoisted himself up, climbing up and out. It amazed him how much Malik seemed to know how to do with the loss of something Altaïr couldn't imagine living without. "Are you coming, or are you just going to stare at me?" he asked, making Altaïr scramble up the wall, as Malik started to close the bureau gate, and lock it.

"I'm not useless, you know," Malik stated as they headed down the street. Altaïr gave him a curious glance. "I can do as much as you, assassin. So do not pity me, or think of me as just a man who stays locked away, forever mourning the loss of an appendage. It's only a minor setback, but more of a challenge to keep my mind going for new ways to do things." The other just watched him with interest. He never thought the man beside him was useless, only wondered how he did certain things. He secretly hoped that during his short stay he'd be able to see more amazing things that the man could do.

They turned down an alleyway, and stopped at a barrel. Malik opened it, after making sure no one was watching, pulled up his sleeve by lifting his arm upward, clamping his teeth down on the fabric, reaching in the water that the barrel was holding, then pulled a lever. The ground that Malik was standing on, shifted slightly, then jolted to the side opening a small crack in the ground. Altaïr smiled, watching as the Dai flushed slightly, "I suggested the idea, they all said it would be caught... two years later..." he drifted off, pulling his arm out and getting off the platform, pushing the rest of it out of the way, then heading down the stairs. When Altaïr followed, Malik pulled on another lever, making the opening close shut.

"I didn't know you invented," Altaïr commented.

Malik blushed ever so slightly and shook his head, "You give me to much credit, I have simply taken the ideas of other men and put it to good use," he stated, heading down the torch lit hall. Altaïr simply rolled his eyes, knowing that the other man was simply being modest, and followed him down a series of halls.

Altaïr stopped as they were getting closer to a more vibrant light. Malik sensed he was alone, and turned, tilting his head to the side as he stared at his brother confused as to why he stopped.

"Malik... Can I ask you something?"

Malik rolled his eyes, wishing he could cross his arms, as he shoved his hand in his pocket, tapping his foot ever so slightly, "Of course, but that doesn't mean I will give you the answer you seek."

The assassin was silent for a moment, almost making Malik loose what cool he had left, before he finally spoke, "Do you, or do you not hate me?"

Malik blinked, stilling his foot as he stood straight, "You allowed my brother to be killed, Altaïr. You didn't listen to me when you should have. You broke tenants of the brotherhood that the brotherhood have set for a reason..." the assassin lowered his head as the one-armed man stared at him, "yet, I do not find myself hating you as much as I once did. I find you arrogant and foolish, but at times very helpful," he stated.

Altaïr lifted his head looking up in shock at the slight compliment, "You...don't hate me?" he asked, almost unable to believe his words. Malik only shook his head, as he turned and headed down the hall once more. The now happy assassin followed him close behind, unable to contain the wide grin that formed on his lips.

The marketplace visit was uneventful at the least. It was simply a cleaned up sewer that had cheaply made carts and stalls lined up. They were older looking than they probably were, but they seemed to have had the mind set that they wouldn't be down there very long, but didn't have the heart to change them in hopes that they could again surface. It was almost disheartening, watching as people haggled down in the sewers for their food. Drops of water dripped down onto people as they did so, but they didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care. After the two got a decent size cut of cow, they headed back out the way they came, exiting from the same platform.

They were silent the walk back, and silent as Malik made stew. Altaïr kept his gaze on his fellow brother, watching as his face changed every so often from calm, to thoughtful, then to morbid. It went at such a confusing pattern, that the assassin didn't really know what to say. He sat there, wondering if the man was alright. It shocked him, when Malik walked over to his side, and plopped down on a cushion and laid back, staring up at the darkening sky above.

"I really hope you can kill that man, Altaïr." Altaïr looked down at him, not daring to speak, afraid that if he did, the comfortable air would go away as quickly as it came. "Jerusalem has had it's tyrants... but this man..." his brows furrowed.

"I will not fail you," Altaïr stated, staring down at the Dai, who looked back to him.

"Confident as always." Altaïr couldn't help but smile, then blinked as his hood was pulled down. "What did I say about the hood?" The assassin could only chuckle, muttering a soft "sorry" as Malik smiled and shook his head, resuming his glance up at the sky. It was a rare and odd moment, where the two were this close together without any sneering, or any snide comments being thrown about. Altaïr couldn't help but treasure the seconds, remembering back to his and Malik's training days when they would sneak off and just throw small rocks in a creek. He recalled Kadar always finding them within thirty minutes of them sneaking off, and scolding them for missing training.

"You better watch out, I might pass you up and become the best assassin ever." Altaïr blinked and looked back as Malik stated that. It was as if he was recalling the same memory. Malik simply smiled grimly, then stood and went back to checking on the stew. "It's ready," Malik stated, half expecting the assassin to be at the table in seconds ready to be fed, like a puppy, which was exactly how it was.

Despite how hot the stew was, Altaïr was quick to gulp it down, only to pause halfway through it to gulp down half of his cup of water. Malik stared at the other, a brow raised, wondering if his tongue had been scalded into not feeling any heat, or had been prior to allow him to eat something so hot so quickly. The broth stuck to Altaïr's upper lip whiskers making Malik snort and roll his eyes as he slowly ate his own soup. "You cease to amaze me," he murmured, sipping it and munching on a carrot.

Altaïr seemed to take that as a compliment, and stood stretching as he crawled back over to his cushions and collapsed. Soft snoring emitted the air within seconds, making Malik scowl as he started to clean up the dishes. "What do I look like? Your wife?" he asked, bringing them to a bowl of water and washing the bowls, spoons then the cooking pot and the spoon he used to cook. He simply poured the rest of the water, at least his own, back into the jug he kept his water in, and tossed Altaïr's out after noticing chunks of dinner inside the glass. He made a note which glass was his, and which was the pig on the cushion's, then blew out the candles, before going to retire himself.

As he laid down in his bed, he couldn't help but wonder about Al Mualim, and how exactly he treated Altaïr. He knew the master assassin had a habit of treating his favorite pupils like dolls, and liked to make them do whatever he could, just to test them. He shivered slightly, not envious of anyone who received that treatment. In a way, he was happy he had to become the Jerusalem Rafiq. It got him away from the older man, and allowed him freedom, a freedom that allowed him to run his bureau the way he wanted. Of course, as long as he stayed within the creed tenants, and didn't treat the assassins who came to help like they were lepers. The only real thing he missed was the hunt. Malik thought of himself like a lion. He enjoyed the catch of the hunt, the kill of the target. He half-wished he had the nerve to go out and kill Malon Al Damon right this second. As long as the job was done, right? He yawned, bringing his blanket up to his chin as he shut his eyes. He only wished later on that, that thought hadn't planted a seed in his mind, because he would regret it more than ever...


I'm surprised I had enough time to come out with this chapter so soon. Of course, there is the fact that I had a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me to get this story going faster... The next chapter will probably be up in a few days, if not sooner if I have time.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I look forward to any reviews,good or bad, I don't mind, feedback is always appreciated.

Until next time~