Chapter 37: Time in Turmoil

Half a year transpired, passing Malik by in a flurry of work. Altaїr's plan to make the Brotherhood hidden from the public eye had drastically altered the whole structure of the operation. More responsibilities were put onto Malik's shoulders, more Assassins came to live within the city walls, and his efforts turned much more towards coordinating the men and teaching them their new ways. Malik spent more time looking at maps rather than making them, more time instructing Assassins rather than telling them of missions to be carried out. It was good work, but exhausting.

The letters he received from Altaїr dealt mostly with business, rarely mentioning Malik unless in regards to his next plan of change. The Assassin Grand Master visited only three times in those six months, but while they were officially to help build up the secrecy of the Brotherhood, he and Malik made time to build their own intimacy. It was difficult, with the Bureau then a hub for Assassin activity rather than just a resting spot. To get away, Altaїr would take Malik to the roofs and there in the rooftop garden they were able to share their intimacy in private and secrecy. Even more so than before they had to keep their relations from wandering eyes and ears. Such a scandal falling upon Altaїr in this time of change would crush everything they had been working towards.

After such a meeting, on a warm late summer evening, the two men lay in one another's arms. The lowering sun sent the orange curtains ablaze with light, casting their naked, entwined bodies in its warm glow. As much as the two had enjoyed their reunion after a long two month wait, Altaїr's brow was darkened in melancholy. Malik asked him of this, of why he was so downcast. The answer sent a chill through his body that had little to do with the early evening breeze.

"It is expected for me to take a wife." It was said lowly, almost practiced in its levelness.

Malik forced down his gut reaction, which was a resounding protest. They had to think of the Brotherhood. The Assassins always came first. The Order was far more important than any relationship they could muster between them. Even so, Malik sighed and sat up, pulling himself out of the man's sweating embrace. He collected himself, shielding his true thoughts and feelings with his mask of diplomacy. "As the Grand Master, it would be odd for you not to."

Altaїr followed Malik and sat up, his eyes fixed to the wooden panels of the rooftop garden. He looked sunken and yet Malik was still overcome by the beauty of the man, his skin seeming to glow with the orange light. Even the scars that riddled that tanned skin seemed to disappear. "The Apple has spoken to me. It tells me that I need to have children."

That made Malik's mind spring away from more sensual thoughts. Altaїr rarely spoke of the Apple, let alone its capabilities. "It speaks to you? What sort of relic can do that?"

Altaїr only shook his head. "I can't say. It tells me only what I need to know, nothing more."

Something rose in Malik's chest. Anger? No, nothing so strong. Perhaps he was simply indignant. His words came out sharper than he wanted. "So you would listen to some unearthly relic and allow it to decide your fate?"

Those amber eyes suddenly turned on him, his face set in all seriousness. "Malik, this is beyond you or me. It may be hard for you to understand, but the Apple tells me that I yet have a part to play in its grand scheme. It has told me things… things no one would believe."

Malik could not resist a humorless grin. "Like you fathering children?"

Altaїr shook his head once more. "It is beyond carrying on my family name."

Malik let this rest on his mind for a time. From the little that Altaїr had told him of the Apple, he had gathered that it held strength far beyond that which he knew. Malik had promised himself long ago that he would never let himself become a burden, and that included to the Brotherhood. He would not bring himself to hold his partner back from whatever destiny the Apple had in mind. More so than that, he would not allow himself to hold his partner back. He steeled himself, knowing full well that he had to force himself to be so selfless. "So go find a wife. Let her bear your children."

That answer seemed to shake Altaїr. "I am surprised you are willing to let that happen."

"So long as you return to me, I care not." And there it was, that bloom of jealousy that Malik had been trying to stave off. He cared, sure. Perhaps he cared too much. But he was not about to make his own selfish desires destroy Altaїr's or the Brotherhood's future. That lesson had been taught to him long ago when the same was done to him, by the same man he sat beside.

Altaїr stared at him for a long moment, letting the words register and pass through him. When he finally responded, it was with such relief that the bloom of jealousy grew larger in Malik's chest. "I am shocked, but I thank you nonetheless."

"Where will you find a woman?" The question was almost defensive, but Malik did his best to keep sharpness from his voice.

Altaїr did not hesitate to answer. "I may already have one."

The answer struck Malik in the chest like a blow, but he would never let it show. "Good," he said definitively. "Get it done and over with. Then come back to me." He pulled the man towards him, winding his arm about the man's back and bringing their bodies together once again. His words and his motions were almost a warning and by the way Altaїr received him welcomingly, it was taken as such. Not only that, it was a promise. A promise to return to his side when the deed was done.

Malik held Altaїr possessively, sucking at his neck and leaving a deep red mark. This man is mine, it said. As the sun continued to lower in the sky, Malik made true that statement. He took the man, possessing him in a way that no other could. It was a consummation of the promise of his return and with every thrust, every moan that was dragged out of Altaїr's throat. The jealousy in Malik's chest abated for the time being. Altaїr was his and in that moment Altaїr was all too willing to concede as much of himself as he could give.

The wedding was to occur in Cyprus. That was what the short letter that Malik held in his hand stated. It had been delivered by bird rather than by an Assassin. Not many men traveled the long distance from Masyaf, not since the structure change. The missions were carried out by the Assassins living within the city walls. It was a surprisingly efficient system, though without such frequent direct communication with the fortress the feel of unity was sacrificed.

Maria Thorpe was her name. In all his time of knowing that there was a woman that Altaїr was courting, Malik never knew her name. It was a foreign name, and English name. Through his gathered information, Malik had pieced together just who the woman was. He had dared not ask Altaїr of her, somehow afraid to hear the words from the man's own mouth. She was the one who Altaїr had fought in Robert de Sable's place. She was the one he had met in Cyprus. She was the Templar, though had renounced her ways. For a year she had been staying inside the walls of Masyaf, learning the ways of the Assassins. Malik dared not dwell on the fact that she and Altaїr were in constant contact. He knew they were together and every time he thought upon it, his chest constricted unbearably. But Malik dared not give in to jealousy. They had made a promise and Malik trusted his partner to uphold his end. Altaїr would return to him once his duty was complete.

That did not change the fact that Malik dared not imagine Altaїr being content with another lover. No, not lover, Malik forced himself to believe. Just a vessel for his children. Just a convenient means to an end. That was all she was supposed to be. These thoughts were the only thing keeping Malik from begging Altaїr to come to him, to drop whatever mission the Apple had given him, to force him to return to how things were before. Altaїr had a duty and he was ensuring it. Malik only had to step back and allow it. He had thought it would be easy, but as the months passed it became clear that he no longer had the capacity to let the man go. He had done it once before and it had torn a hole in his heart which had barely patched over when Altaїr left him again. He chastised himself for growing so attached to his partner. The sinking feeling in his chest would not abate and only grew deeper when he received the letter he held in his hand.

If it had been an invitation to attend the wedding, Malik would have gone into a rage. But it was not. Altaїr knew Malik enough to know that he would desire nothing less than to attend the union of the man he had grown to… so deeply admire and trust. It was a simple statement of fact. They were to be married in Cyprus to help solidify the bonds between the new Assassin base and the Brotherhood in the east. It was a political move and Malik forced himself to believe that was all it was.

As the months passed with no further communication, Malik began to despair. He tried his best to stave away the poisonous jealousy that coursed through him every time his thoughts came to his partner. He felt as though he had been betrayed all over again, only this time the one taken away from him was the very man he had made the compromise with. He wanted to trust Altaїr. He wanted to trust him and be able to accept his duty. But something stopped him. His pride. He himself had a duty to uphold and he did so every day, following Altaїr's instructions in leading the Brotherhood in Jerusalem.

It was this duty that carried Malik through those months of no discourse.

The weather had turned cold, Jerusalem on the cusp of winter. The evening was thankfully absent of Assassins in the Bureau, a rare event ever since the changes were implemented. Malik took full opportunity of this peace and was spending the quiet evening at his game board, playing a compelling game against himself. He always trained his body to keep himself sharp and his sword arm strong, but it was equally important to keep his mind just as keen.

His concentration was interrupted by a practiced landing and roll from the terrace. Malik silently chastised himself for getting too caught up in his game to remember to close the grate for the evening. He would just have to send the Assassin away, or tell him to-

"Safety and peace, Malik."

Malik froze, his heart all at once constricting and racing. He let out a small, hissed curse, too soft for the man to hear. It took him a moment to gather himself, to stand and face the man he had tried to put out of his thoughts for so long. He forced himself into an expression of indifference, carefully schooled. "So you do still live. I was beginning to think otherwise." It was not a warm welcome and although the twitch on Altaїr's brow gave away his hurt but he maintained his composure.

Altaїr's voice was soft, his every motion sincere. "I'm sorry, Malik. I did not mean to be so long from here." He took a step forward, the confining space seeming to close in around them. Something was different about the man. As he stepped further towards Malik, he saw no visual differences. He still wore the white robes of a Master Assassin, dusty from the road. His expression was soft and apologetic, but that was not what Malik sensed. Then it donned on him. It was his smell. His usual scent of spice and blade polishing oil was overlaid with something sweet, like wildflowers and strong tea. It was a different scent and it felt wrong. It was so wrong. The jealousy that Malik had thought had abated over the months was brought immediately back to the surface and his chest boiled with it. Malik took a single defying step back, his stance on the offensive rather than welcoming as Altaїr apparently had anticipated. Fury boiled in his chest as he saw the hurt pass briefly over his partner's expression.

Malik's voice was soft but that in no way dampened the sharpness of his words. "You dare come in here after this long, still smelling of her and expect to be welcomed into my bed?"

Altaїr was taken aback, though he stood his ground, a safe pace away from Malik. "She is my wife, Malik." It was a statement of fact but there was hurt behind the words.

"And what does that make me, your secret bed servant?" Malik practically spat out the words, lashing out at the man. "She was only supposed to be the mother of your children. That is what you told me she would be."

"Things changed." The response cut Malik deeper than he thought.

"Obviously." Malik growled in reply, unrelenting his glaring at the man before him. The man who had so easily stated that he had broken his promise.

Altaїr pursed his lips, more defiant than Malik cared to allow. "I would not expect you to understand."

"What is it that is so beyond me?" The fury was almost boiling over, Malik's hissing words coming from somewhere deep in his chest.

The man stood his ground in the face of Malik's barely restrained fury, keeping a level head. "That I could care for both you and Maria."

Malik could have laughed. Instead he tossed his arm up in exasperation. "You are right. It is beyond my understanding because it is nonsense." Needing to put some distance between them, needing to distract himself, Malik stalked to his desk and absentmindedly shuffled through some scrolls there.

Altaїr made no move to follow, simply standing his ground. His was the voice of reason, though Malik could find no sense in them. He did not want the words to make sense. "Someday you will meet her. Perhaps you will change your mind then."

Malik clenched his fist against the wooden desk, his back firmly to the man. "What makes you think I wish to meet her?" His question was a growl.

"She is carrying my child."

That made Malik stop. It shot through his chest like the bolt from a crossbow. He let it sink in for an agonizing moment, the silence tense between them. Finally Malik came to himself, the ferocity in his chest overcoming whatever qualms he had. All the pent up jealousy and anger towards the man came out in a senseless burst. His clenched fist slammed on the desk and he turned to face the man, his voice strong and ferocious in his rage. "Am I supposed to be impressed that you filled her with your seed? I am more surprised that you found the right hole!"

All calmness dispersed between them, the room seeming to heat up with the animosity. "Don't you dare say such vulgar things about her." Altaїr's voice was dangerous, the small changes in his stance revealing his preparedness for a brawl.

Malik did not care. He saw the signs of anger in the other man, but all he cared about was his own need to inflict as much pain as he could upon him. They were both dangerous men. "Is this not what you do? Is that not what you have always done? But now it is a woman instead of me." Lightning seemed to crack between them, the room closing in even more about them. The next words spoken in the room was the thunder following the storm.

"I love her, Malik."

The shock that rang through Malik's body almost made him stagger. The static abated, the energy passing from the room in an exhausted sweep. Malik slumped back as he took those words in, leaning against the desk behind him for support. It was a blow like no other he had taken in his life. He had felt pain before, felt betrayal. This was something else entirely. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and almost broken. "And you admit it freely, that is a first. Tell me, what is so different about her?"

Altaїr looked to immediately regret his outburst, motioning to go to him. "Malik-"

Malik would have none of his sympathy. "No." He held up his arm as if to put a barrier between them. "No, Altaїr. You have a wife now, so why still bother with me?" His partner remained in a pained silence. Malik shook his head. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to hear from you that I have been replaced."

"You could never be replaced, Malik." The softness of Altaїr's voice revealed the truth that lay deep in his chest.

"No?" Malik was skeptical. "Then what is this?" He motioned vaguely between them.

Altaїr spread his arms out like an offering of peace. "A compromise. When I am here, I am only yours."

Malik scowled in defiance. "And when you go back to Masyaf? Will you forget me until your return?"

The response was diplomatic, revealing the Grand Master's hard earned training in the art. "I will be Mentor, husband to Maria, and father of my children, but I could never forget you, no matter how hard I try." It was so raw, so truthful. It struck Malik, melting the tips of the spiked ice that had built up in his chest over the long months. But the coldness was far from gone and both knew it would take redoubled effort to stoke the fire once again.

"And you have tried before?"

"Did you not try to forget me not long ago?" Malik glanced away as if struck by his own accusation getting thrown back at him. "Please, Malik. See reason."

Malik gave in, hating himself for it but so needing the animosity to withdraw. He had had enough conflict with this man. Any more and he would deem Altaїr not worth the effort. But then he knew that Altaїr would always be worth the effort. "We will try your idiotic plan until it fails. I only do this because you make it impossible to stay away from you, though I do not hold on to a hope."

The relief that washed over Altaїr was almost tangible. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For seeing reason, you stubborn Dai." And there it was, that crooked smirk that he loved and hated in equal measure.

Malik scowled, though not from anger. "Wash yourself before coming to me."

That made Altaїr pause, his brow softening with hurt. "Is her scent so repulsive to you?"

"No, but you stink of the dirt of the road and of horse." With that the crooked grin returned and Altaїr stepped out to do as he was commanded.

End Notes: I hope that was adequately heart-wrenching. And this conflict is far from over. No one can get over such deep jealousy with one conversation.

Okay, get ready for more major time jumps. I'm getting ready to finish this baby up!