Chapter Twelve: Dolor et Voluptas
Desmond felt Heyreddin shift in his arms and knew the man was now awake. He waited, nearly holding his breath, not wanting to waste a single second.
"Des..." Heyreddin's voice croaked into the morning air. "You're going to bruise my ribs."
"Sorry." Desmond eased his grip and Heyreddin rolled over to look at him, a smile in his eyes.
"What has you so uptight lately?" Heyreddin reached out a hand to grab a fistful of Desmond's hair and pull him in for a quick kiss. "Dogan said things will clear up. Don't stress so much."
Desmond wasn't worried about things clearing up though. Almost twelve years had passed blissfully in Istanbul. He had never felt more like an Assassin than he had while working alongside Heyreddin and Kasim and Dogan. Amazingly he had even been useful and not once had any of his fellow Assassins had to rescue him. Of course, he was constantly reminding himself he had only twelve years to spend here before he would be yanked away again. Why had he caved to Heyreddin then? It was only going to make leaving all the more painful.
Worse, he hadn't bothered sharing this information with Heyreddin or the others. According to Achilles, he had left mysteriously and never been heard from again. Though he wanted to confide in Heyreddin concerning this, he was afraid of how it would affect the Ottoman to learn Desmond would soon be gone.
"You're worrying." Heyreddin announced, pressing a finger into Desmond's scrunched brow. "What is wrong?"
"I'm..." Desmond hesitated and then sat up, sighing. "Sorry, but you know how I feel about..."
Heyreddin's eyebrow rose as he waited for Desmond to continue until it was hiding behind his bangs. "What's wrong, Desmond?"
"It's just..." Desmond tried to push past the block in his throat. "I mean...I never know when I'm going to be gone."
Except he did. Why had he lied?
He didn't dare look at Heyreddin because the frown and concern he knew he'd find would have shaken even more off his willpower.
"Maybe you won't."
He hadn't wanted to hear those words.
"I probably will."
Heyreddin now sat up, depression lining his aging features. The bright charismatic light which had been in his eyes twelve years ago had dimmed considerably during their time together, though Desmond doubted it was because of their relationship. The man had matured significantly, just as Desmond had, and with such maturity some of his easygoing side had diminished.
"You are always so pessimistic." Heyreddin stated, his voice almost a growl. "Can't you be at least a little optimistic?"
Desmond opened his mouth to admit the truth, but then clamped it shut.
"Don't worry too much about it." Heyreddin draped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Or you'll get grey hairs. And if you're worrying about me, I'll be fine. I'll miss you, but I'll be fine."
Sighing, Desmond finally faced the other man and smiled. "Good, but to clarify I want you to promise me you won't wait up for me."
Heyreddin was frowning. "Don't put expectations on me. Just because I'll be fine doesn't mean I'm going to...damn it, Desmond. Sometimes, I swear you are purposely insensitive."
Desmond stood, not wanting to think about how Heyreddin would wait for him with no guarantee he'd return.
"Hey!" Azize shouted from the other side of the door. "Hurry! Dogan's found the last, or hopefully the last, of the Byzantine resistance!"
Both men were already yanking on their clothes, tightening clasps and fastening buckles.
"Hey, Des." Heyreddin caught the man before he had left the room to plant a kiss to his lips in haste. "Try not to die."
Desmond grinned. "Yeah. You too."
It was a ritual he knew he'd miss.
Desmond's sword was a white streak in the minimal light as he took down his opponents. Several feet away, Heyreddin was just as easily defeating each foe and it didn't take long for either's enemies to begin to give them a wide birth, hesitant to approach. Desmond didn't taunt them, merely eyeing them patiently, while Heyreddin encouraged with crude insults. It caused Desmond to smile a little.
A Byzantine lunged and Desmond cut him down before slicing into the next and then the next. How he had ever thought this was hard once upon a time was beyond him. In only a few short minutes, their work was done.
"Where's Dogan?" Heyreddin called up to Azize.
"I don't know!" She replied from her perch in the rafters. "He was..."
"He's dead." Kasim's announcement drew them all into a chilly silence as he entered the room, his robes covered in blood and his arm twitching at his side. "I'm sorry...I tried, but..."
Desmond was the first to regain control.
"Did any escape?"
"A few..."
"Than Azize, Heyreddin, and I will chase them down. Return to Istanbul. We'll sort out a change in leadership as soon as we are done here."
Kasim nodded dismally as he left the room.
"Azize?" Desmond called to the rafters and heard her sure response. "Lead the way."
"I advise for Kasim." Desmond stated as they stood in the library of the main headquarters in Istanbul. "Or Azize."
Kasim shook his head. "I am not fit for the position. My arm...I don't think...the doctor said there wasn't much he could do."
"Malik Al-Sayf had only one arm and he lead the Order fine enough." Desmond informed the man. "More than fine, really. I'd say maybe even better than Altair."
The other man did not seem as sure.
"I believe either Kasim or Azize as well." Heyreddin put in. "But it's up to you two to decide."
Azize was staring hard at the ground and Kasim didn't look like he wanted to be apart of this conversation anymore.
"I...it's my fault." He finally murmured. "It's my fault Dogan..."
"It isn't your fault." Desmond's tone was harsher than it probably needed to be. "People die. End of story."
All three of the Ottomans were now staring downward, none happy with Desmond's words.
He rushed a hand over his hair, agitation in his movements. "Look. I might sound insensitive, but it's true. It isn't your fault and you have more than proven yourself in the past to be a capable mentor. You as well, Azize."
"I don't want to." Kasim's bitter tone was enough for Desmond to know he wouldn't convince the man.
"Nor do I." Azize cut in. "I want to start a family, Des. I can't do that if I'm always risking my neck."
"Why don't you?" Kasim looked straight at Desmond. "You've had the tutelage of both Altair and Ezio and you have clearly improved since we first met. Even Dogan...even Yusuf would agree you're more than fit for the position."
"No." Desmond's fists were tight at his side. "There is never any certainty I won't just disappear and return to my time. That would be just as bad as me dying. This Order's past two mentors have each died young. They don't need a third."
"You're young?" Heyreddin tried the joke, but even he didn't laugh at it. "Fine. I'll do it."
Desmond looked at him, somewhat surprised.
"What?" Heyreddin crossed his arms. "No one else is willing...unless you all have a complaint about me taking over?"
When he'd seen each shake their head, he shrugged.
"Then it is settled. I'll be the mentor."
"A formal..." Kasim's words were cut off.
"There's no need for a formal induction." Heyreddin waved off the idea. "Dogan didn't get one. I don't need one. Just let everyone know and I'm sure they'll be fine. I'll write a letter to Lodovico in Italia to inform him of the change of command."
Desmond's gut tightened upon reminder Ezio no longer led the Assassin Order there, having passed it on to Lodovico Ariosto upon return from Istanbul in 1512.
Suddenly, he was leaning against the table, nearly unable to breathe while Heyreddin and Azize rushed to his side.
"Desmond!" Azize gasped, trying to see what was wrong. "What's...are you all right?"
"I'm fine." He choked, holding up a trembling hand. "It's just...it's...ugh...I sometimes wish I didn't know half of what I know."
"What do you mean?" Kasim whispered as Heyreddin started to relax a fraction.
Desmond steadied his breathing and straightened, again assuring those around him he was fine.
"It's...well..." He hesitated, not sure if it was right of him to inform them. "D-don't be surprised if you receive bad news from Lodovico."
"Bad news?" Heyreddin's eyes widened. "What kind of...is there anyway we can help?"
"No..." Desmond fidgeted beneath his lover's gaze. "It's...Ezio dies this year."
They all stared at him, eyes wide and bewildered, before they managed to lower their gazes.
"I see..." Heyreddin mumbled, his gaze searching the floor. "I'm...sorry..."
Swallowing hard, Desmond nodded. "Yeah...me too."
They didn't discuss it again.
I think this is all I'm getting for tonight. I'll update tomorrow. :D
