Assassin's Creed: The Virgin Girl
Chapter IV
The trip back to Masyaf was a longer one than usual. It took a full night and a day to reach the village and when they finally did, Altair allowed Lilith to rest in his home while he went to speak with Al Mualim, who was, surprisingly, still awake. He told the man of Lilith, and what she could offer to their cause. The elder was hesitant to accept but in the end, arranged to find a home for the girl within the village. If one could not be found, she would have to be Altair's burden until they could get one. Not wanting his privacy intruded upon, Altair asked if one could not simply be built, but due to the limited space within the protection of the village, no such arrangement could be made.
When he came back to his little home, he found Lilith sleeping in a corner. The journey had been rough on her, because while the assassin was used to such long trips, the girl was not, and he certainly did not allow any stops longer than the time it took for their horses to drink and eat. Lilith's old beggar robes had slipped off of her shoulder, exposing the bloody bandages, and the expensive clothes she wore after having run away from Majd Addin. Sighing from exhaustion, Altair picked up the girl and carried her to the bedroom, where a decently sized straw mattress sat on a simple wooden frame. His blanket and pillow were still in disarray from the last time he'd slept in it, although he couldn't clearly remember when that was.
Altair placed her down as gently as his tired arms would allow and then proceeded to pull off her scratchy robe, which he tossed carelessly to the ground. He threw the blanket over Lilith and proceeded to the previous room. There, he gathered as much of the pillows around his home and, after having taken off his belt of knives, sword, short blade and hood, laid down on the pillows and let out a long breath. His muscles, sore from the weeks' worth of work, began to finally release and Altair found himself falling into sleep easily.
With the sun barely rising, the assassin woke after having a confusing dream about dancers, rivers of blood, and drops of water. He couldn't remember the last time he dreamed. Altair got to his feet and stretched his sore body, wishing he had a spare mattress, or something softer to sleep on. He went to the room and found the bed empty. Lilith's beggar robe was also gone.
In urgency, Altair flew from his house, thinking that Lilith was trying to run away. Perhaps she was in league with the Templars, and was now trying to escape back to them. There were very few people up at this hour, but he asked around anyway. They had seen a young girl, a new face in the village, wearing an old robe, heading toward the nearby river.
Why the river? Was Lilith meeting with her superiors there? What was this girl up to? The place in question was quite a ways out of the village. It was at least a thirty minute walk to the river. Wasting no time, Altair hopped onto the nearest horse and raced his way down the well-beaten path. The closer he got to his destination, the less people there were; too convenient for this Templar meeting.
The man was fuming. He had stuck his neck out for this girl to keep her safe, and if she really was a Templar, and was actually running back to them to report any information, not only would he kill them, but he'd be sure to kill her too.
Soon, Altair heard the soft sloshing of water. Jumping off of the horse, he pushed his way through the tall, thick brush that hid the river from sight. Expecting the girl would be close by with her contemporaries, he was sure to move quietly, keeping his ears open for any hushed conversation. Peeping out of the bush, he thought he would spot someone, in front or at least, close by. There was no one around. He needed a higher place to search from, and tall trees, bursting with leaves stood close by, crowding each other for the rich soil.
Altair climbed the closest one, and hid among the foliage, making sure he could not be seen below. It seemed that no one had come yet, and so the man waited, although not for long. Not less than seven minutes later, he could hear someone forcing their way through the bushes. Lilith emerged, pulling her robe from the brush, having caught it on a branch. Why hadn't he seen her coming on his way here?
The girl looked around. This is it. Altair steeled, readying himself for anything. Lilith knelt down at the river bank and put her hand in it. With a nod, she pulled off her old, scratchy robe and hung it on a low branch of the neighboring tree, her back now facing the man. What's she doing…? She pulled off all of her jewelry, starting with the golden elaborate choker around her thin neck, and placed them on the ground, covering them with the robe. She stood and gingerly unwrapped the dressings around her shoulder. The wounds were still healing, and there was a good amount of old and drying blood staining her skin. From there, she unclasped her top from the back with one hand and slipped the straps from her shoulders, the chains and coins adorning it, jingling merrily. As she turned, Altair, who couldn't look away, suddenly averted his eyes. He had seen the naked female body before plenty of times, and done many, many sexual things to a number of women in his years, but it was always consensual, and besides, he was certainly no Peeping Tom, gazing at women's naked bodies when they weren't aware.
He heard more jingling, telling him that the girl was removing her floor length skirt. There was a moment of silence and then he heard the sound of feet stepping into water. Hesitantly, he looked up. Lilith, with her back to the tree, was hip deep into the gently flowing river now, her one good arm up to cover her bare breasts, the other down by her waist. The ends of her long hair was caught by the flow of water, and created a gentle part in her tresses as it was dragged along by the current, allowing a view of her slender naked figure.
Altair had seen most of this girl's body before, because of the clothes he had often found her in, but this time it was different. Knowing she was completely bare, knowing she was more relaxed, not having to worry about being a sex slave, or escaping from her captors, it changed the way Lilith looked to the assassin.
Further down the river, out of sight, Altair heard the sounds of other women bathing and chatting loudly. Lilith heard it too, for she looked in that direction. There was something in the profile of her face, the way she looked when she heard the sound of other people. Altair recognized it. It was the look of loneliness. The feeling of never having been close to other people was one that was familiar to him, but while he had discarded it with the acceptance over the years that he no longer wanted that closeness, Lilith had not yet begun to feel that way.
Altair continued to watch Lilith, his face hot and flushed, not sure why he was so enraptured with the sight of the girl like this. She washed her shoulder first, cleansing her wounds and skin of old blood, cringing at the stinging it brought on. Then she submerged herself completely into the water, coming up seconds later, glistening in the morning sun. She did something odd for a moment, but it seemed she was searching the bottom of the river for a rock. The one she procured was round, smooth, and the size of her palm. The girl rubbed it all over her body, scraping away all of the dirt, grime, sweat and dead skin. Lilith climbed out of the river. Altair averted his eyes. He thought she was done with her bath and was going to leave, but then he heard her splash her way back into the water. Looking up, he saw her rubbing what looked like large, pink and white flower petals into her hair and on her skin. When she was done with one, she would let it flow down the river, and take another from the pile she had seemingly brought with her and put close by. After all of her petals had been used, Lilith climbed out of the river and began to squeeze water from her hair, while her body dried in the gentle breeze coming from the north.
Altair looked away and didn't look back until he heard Lilith pushing through the bushes, on her way back to Masyaf, presumably. Sighing heavily and leaning back on the tree trunk, the assassin rubbed his hot face, thinking. So she hadn't come here to meet with any Templars. Perhaps she was innocent all along. Maybe he was over thinking things, becoming paranoid from his work…
Jumping down, Altair moved towards the river. The day was becoming hot, or maybe it was just him. Either way, he wanted to bathe himself as well, and clear his mind, letting the soft current of the water take away his troubles for the moment. Altair took off all his weapons and yanked off his boots. He removed his red belt and white hooded, long-tailed vest, and then pulled his shirt over his head, enjoying the cool wind blowing across his skin. Making sure no one was around, Altair dropped his pants and slipped slowly into the river. The water was slightly chilly, but it was a relief on his hot skin and felt nice on his aching muscles. Altair had never been a very good swimmer, but this river was shallow enough for him to stand in, making it level just beneath his prominent Adonis lines.*
Immersing himself under water, Altair spent several long seconds beneath the surface. This was exactly what he needed. The coolness of the river took away his worries and his stress, and he suddenly felt very relaxed. Slowly reemerging, Altair wiped the water from his face, and pushed his hair away from his forehead.
And suddenly, there was a slight, merry jingle. The man's eyes snapped open, and he found himself looking up at Lilith, who was bent over near the tree where she had hung her clothes, gathering the jewelry she had forgotten to take. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Altair, taking in his wet, toned, upper body physique. When their eyes met, Lilith's cheeks went from a subtle pink to a blushing red. She dropped everything in her hands, turned her head and covered her eyes.
"Altair! I'm very sorry! I didn't… I didn't know you would be here!" she sputtered.
The assassin said nothing, not wanting to reveal that he knew she was bathing in the exact same spot he was standing in, not too long ago. The way she felt he was looking at her, or perhaps it was his silence, suggested a question of her presence there, for she answered, even though he did not speak.
Still keeping her eyes averted, Lilith stammered, "I was... I was bathing here, and I forgot something, so I came back to get it and you… you…" She glanced over at Altair once more, and seeing that he was still looking at her, immediately clapped her hands over her eyes. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" With that, she ran off, not even taking what she had come to get in the first place. After she had gone, Altair turned away and splashed cool water onto his blushing face.
As he was getting dressed, the glint of something gold caught his eye. It was the jewelry Lilith had come back to retrieve. He put them in the pouch of his weapons belt and finished pulling on his clothes.
The horse he had taken was a little ways off behind the bushes, munching at the few patches of lush grass, popping up out of the beige land. Even though there was a fairly wide river here, it wasn't enough water to make the entire surroundings green. Altair mounted the horse, and it trotted its way back to Masyaf. Not ten minutes later, Altair spotted a lone hooded figure, walking in the same direction that he was going, pushed out of the mid-morning crowd going in the opposite way towards the river. The person in question wore and old beggar's robe, a shoulder becoming stained in blood and they were barefoot. Altair urged the horse forward until he was right next to this person. Their shoulders tensed, and then they winced from pain from it. This person tried to keep their head down, and pointed away from Altair, but he knew who it was.
"Get on the horse," he said.
The figure pretended not to hear him.
"Get on the horse," Altair repeated firmly, and louder.
Again, the person feigned ignorance.
Altair huffed a breath from his nose and grabbed the person by the scruff of their robes, throwing them over the horse in front of him. The crowd around broke away, staring alarmed at the hooded figures, murmuring about such inappropriateness and if this could mean danger. Wanting to be rid of all the prying eyes, the assassin rode away and soon entered Masyaf.
The horse stopped outside of Altair's house. Here, the man climbed down, threw his captive over his shoulder and slapped the behind of the animal, so that it trotted away in slight alarm. He entered his home, shut the door with a snap, and proceeded to his bedroom, where he unceremoniously tossed the person onto the bed.
Lilith landed with a grunt, her hood falling off. She looked at Altair who looked at her with annoyance in his eyes, his lips pressed thin. He left the room and when he came back, he held something in his hand. Forcefully, he pulled the girl's robe off. She cried in pain and grasped her shoulder, causing Altair's hard stare to soften a bit.
He approached her again, this time more gently, and proceeded to clean, staunch and wrap the girl's wounds. They sat in silence as he did this, her head turned away, cheeks flushed. "We need to talk," he said a moment after he finished.
Lilith jumped to her feet, her cheeks getting hotter. "Altair, I promise, I was not peeping on you or anything, I just—" Altair put his hand up to silence her, and then motioned toward the spot on the bed next to him. Hesitantly, she reseated herself, still avoiding his eyes.
"This isn't about that. I want to talk to you about those men you were captured by, and what you know about Robert de Sable."
Relief seemed to wash over the girl's face. "Oh." However, she still refused to look Altair straight in the eyes. They talked a long time, well into the late afternoon, and only stopped when Lilith's stomach made an embarrassingly loud grumbling noise.
"You're hungry?" Altair asked, followed by his stomach grumbling loudly as well.
"As are you," Lilith replied. "Please, let me cook you something, in recompense for everything you have done for me." She stood but Altair grabbed her hand.
"No, it's alright. I have no animals, nor ingredients to cook with."
"Then what do you eat when you are home?"
"I have women elsewhere to cook for me," Altair said, referring to the womenfolk in the headquarters, who cooked and cared for all of the assassins.
"Oh… you are… married…" Lilith said, dejectedly.
Altair smirked, "No, I just have women who cook for my brothers and I. Stay, I'll return soon."
Before Lilith could ask about his siblings, the man stood and left the house, making his way up to the sanctuary, where he could already smell the food simmering. He returned with one of the women, who assisted him in carrying two plates, two cups of drink and a small bottle of liquor. They placed the dinner on the little table in the front room and as the woman gathered pillows for Altair and his guest to sit on, the man went looking for her. By the time the two returned to the table, the woman had left.
The assassin sat down, pulling his hood and gauntlets off, his legs open and one knee up. The girl on the other hand, sat down timidly, her hands in her lap, and her legs in side saddle. "Eat," Altair said, pushing a plate towards her. On it, were two kebab kashkhash, which was rolled lamb with chili pepper paste, parsley, garlic and pine nuts, and one grilled vegetable kebab.
The food was delicious. Lilith couldn't remember when the last time she had meat of any kind was. When she was kept prisoner by any of her captives, they fed her a variation of the same light porridge, consisting of something along the lines of clear broth, some gruel and some vegetables. She took a sip of the drink and her face lit up. "What is this?" she asked.
Altair, who was watching her eat with an amused expression, answered, "Polo, lemon juice squeezed with mint leaves." He finished his last kebab and drank the last of his minty lemonade.
Lilith placed her cup down. "The food is so wonderful. Is it always like this here?"
"Not often, only when we have the ingredients to spare for such a feast."
"Well, I suppose it is best that you did not have me cook."
"Why is that?"
"Well, I do not know how."
Altair furrowed his brows skeptically. "Really?"
"Yes." Lilith touched her finger tips together from around the cup thoughtfully. "As a girl always being sold and kidnapped, I had no way or time of knowing, especially since I didn't have a mother to teach me such things when I was young."
Altair frowned, pouring from a bottle of liquor into his cup. "What happened to your mother…?"
"She died."
The man set the bottle down somberly. "I'm sorry." He knew the pain of having lost a mother, although perhaps not know the suffering as Lilith knew it. "…How?"
Lilith shrugged, "I had heard she starved to death, begging on the streets."
Altair sat up straighter. "You mean you don't know? What about your father?"
The girl fiddled with the lip of the cup, never really looking up. "My father was a married man, a merchant from Damascus. He took on an affair with my mother, who had just come from Israel. They conceived a child, and when he found out, he claimed the child was not his and left my mother. She never saw him again. She gave the child the name meaning 'of the night' and 'from Damascus'. It was her way of memorializing the moment with a man she loved, and whom she thought loved her back. In any case, she could not raise the child on her own, and gave it away to an orphanage. All I was ever told about my mother was that she was once beautiful, and died a pitiful death."
Lilith had become restless during her story. She drummed her fingers on the table, wiggled her toes, and kept rubbing her neck. Altair poured her a half cup of Arak, aniseed-flavoured alcohol, and passed it to her. She looked at it, her mind blank of what to do with it. "Drink. It's best to wash such bitterness down with heat," Altair instructed.
She wasn't sure what that meant, but she gulped it all down, her throat burning immediately from it. She could feel it settling in her stomach as well. It did not taste good, and the expression she made as she drank made that clear. When she put the cup down, she did indeed feel a little better. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to bring the mood down."
"It's alright. I don't mind." Altair poured another half cup and passed it to the girl. She drank only some of it, and what she couldn't finish, he drank for her.
Soon, night began to fall outside, the assassin and the girl had sat at the table, sharing alcohol and conversation over lit candles and lanterns. For the first time since meeting him, Lilith witnessed Altair smiling, or rather, smirking. The girl just assumed that was his charmingly rugged way of smiling. He even chuckled a bit. Their conversation was not deep. It was friendly, the kind of talking used to distill tension, worry, fear, relaxing the participants in innocent chatting. At one point, Lilith even stood and danced for Altair, encouraged by the alcohol. The outfit she was wearing was perfect for this. Altair asked jokingly how she had time to learn to dance, but not cook, and she replied that dancing just came naturally to girls. As she continued to dance and sing accompaniment, the man watched, listening to the jingling of the coins and chains on her clothes, and quietly appreciating the life and vibrancy her presence brought to his home.
When it was fully dark outside, the two had finally finished their alcohol and were just sitting together, talking, and smiling, not having to worry about anything. Lilith's cheeks were flushed a deep pink now and she was tipsy. Altair, who was also pink in the cheeks, was a little more sober than the girl. When he talked to her, he was always trying to be serious, but she could always bring a bit of comedy to his words.
Soon the conversation died on their lips, and the house was quiet again. Altair and Lilith looked at each other from opposite ends of the little table, and suddenly he reached across and pulled her over into his lap. Perhaps it was the alcohol making him do this, or perhaps it was his male instinct to conquer, but he suddenly knew what he wanted to do.
Altair brought his hand to Lilith's face, and caressed his thumb over her soft skin. She was so close now; he could smell the fragrance of the flowers she used in her hair and on her body. Her big eyes were wide with anticipation, the long lashes only emphasizing it. Pulling her in, Altair captured Lilith's lips with his own. She was shocked, but pleased. She didn't push him away, but she had never been kissed before, so Altair decided he would teach her all he knew in the art. He nibbled her plush bottom lip, and showed her how to dance with her tongue. Meanwhile, his hands found their place on her body; one was pulling her close by her tiny waist, while the other was entangled in her soft flowery hair, pushing her head further into the kiss. Even through the fabric of their clothes, Altair could feel Lilith's rapid heartbeat against his chest. Her hands grasped his biceps and were squeezing from the intensity of it all.
Altair laid the girl down and pushed his body down on her, wanting to feel her, needing to feel her, but when he began tugging at her skirt, she stopped him. Slowly falling out of the spell, he pulled out of the kiss and looked at her. Lilith's eyes were closed still, and her lips were trembling. Her hand that stopped his was also shaking. She was scared.
"If you do not wish…" he whispered, voice hoarse.
"…I am not ready…" she replied.
And just like that, the moment was gone. In his passion, Altair had forgotten just who he was with. Lilith was a girl who had been sold repeatedly specifically for sex, even against her will. If she was not ready, he would not force her.
When Altair tried to sit up, Lilith pulled him back, "Don't go," she whispered. And so he laid there with her until she fell asleep. The assassin gently carried her to the bed. He placed her in it as gently as he could, and pulled the blanket up to her chin. He returned to the table, where he sat for a long time, going over that entire evening in his mind.
After managing to catch a few hours of sleep, dawn broke and Altair awakened. He pulled on his gauntlets and made sure he had all of his weapons. He went to the bedroom and looked in. Lilith was nestled in her warmth, her dark hair pooled around her head, like a black halo. She looked so peaceful.
Quietly, Altair left the house, and headed up to the sanctuary, where after washing his face thoroughly, he reported to Al Mualim, who sent him off to his next victim.
*'Adonis lines' is vernacular for that sexy V ladies like so much on toned men.
