Assassin's Creed I – Tales of Altaïr and Malik

A/N #1 – We wanted a locked room and to see them have it out a bit... well... here we go... ROUND 1 ! I am sure there will be more in the future... Also... This might be um... kinda... Yaoi... yeah... *grin* just warning...

Altaïr pursed his lips and ignored the forthcoming pains as he stood and snatched his clothing. He dressed as swiftly as he could while Malik protested at him, commanding him to just sit his ass down and stop being such a novice, "You do not have to prove anything, Altaïr!" Altaïr ignored him till he was dressed save his armour. He could get more in Masyaf if he had to. Malik was pushing the barrier with Altaïr and about to pay dearly. Altaïr needed to get out before he lost control and took it out on Malik. Malik just did not understand how it felt to be trapped and confined like this!

Malik could not believe it. Altaïr was going to leave. He REALLY was in no fit state to. Or did Malik miscalculate? It didn't matter, Malik had no intention of letting Altaïr try to find his way to Masyaf yet. He was not going to let him just run away from this... from him...

He stepped in to block Altaïr from either exit. He even tried to shove him back to the bed. "You need to stay. Altaïr!" He too was losing his temper with this stubborn assassin.

Altaïr snarled suddenly and grabbed Malik, ramming him up against the wall. Malik swiftly calculated the places he could hit Altaïr now without really worsening his wounds. Though, the impact against the wall jarred him, as did the actual furious, feral contact. Looking into Altaïr's eyes was like looking into a very mad eagle. Fine... if Altaïr really wanted to fight him, he was going to get one hell of a fight.

Malik stepped one foot in between Altaïr's and threw in his weight. The fight began! Malik earned a few very decent bruises and was glad Altaïr did not have a knife, or those might have been very fatal hits. Altaïr earned new bruises to add to the many he had. Fists flew. Legs tangled. Two men tumbled and struggled for dominance and control.

Finally Malik seemed to have Altaïr pinned. He straddled the assassin with the white tunic gripped in his fist which pushed hard to keep Altaïr on the floor, but deftly avoided the broken ribs. Altaïr struggled on the floor under Malik. He grabbed the sleeve and wrist with one hand and dug talons into Malik's pants. He simply lacked enough strength to really throw the other man off.

Malik's black hair was plastered to his face with sweat which also made the little goatee stand out start on his chin. He dark eyes glared angrily at Altaïr. Altaïr bared teeth and glared back with fiery golden eyes. They were locked and not moving, unable to, not daring to.

"I said stay put! You are not well enough to go. If you would... Dammit Altaïr! You asked to trust ME! Why don't you? I am here and all I am trying to do is help you! STOP FIGHTING ME! I am NOT the enemy! You want to trust me? You want to be trusted? PROVE IT! Prove I can trust you! Prove I can trust that you are not going to abandon me! Stay so I do not have to worry about you! I will not let you leave me to die like Kadar! I am NOT letting you leave me again!" His cheeks felt too wet as the drops wriggled down to his jaw and dripped onto the fabric of their clothes.

Malik felt Altaïr's grip loosen on his leg and wrist. He had to blink several times to see through the blur in his eyes. Altaïr's breathing was ragged, his own cheeks wet despite his scrunched eyes. Malik relaxed his hold on Altaïr's tunic and just rested his hand on Altaïr's chest, ignoring that his weight was full on Altaïr while he straddled him.

"Altaïr... Can I... will you let me... trust you? Will you please... trust me just a little?" It was hard asking around the lump in his throat. The ache in his heart panged painfully when Altaïr turned his head away. Malik didn't realize he had held his breath till Altaïr nodded. Malik sighed with relief. "May I resume what I was going to do earlier?" Again Altaïr just silently nodded.

He lifted his hand from Altaïr's chest and slid it under the hem of the hood and pushed it up till it was nearly off Altaïr's head. Altaïr lifted his head to let it come off. Malik wanted to know what was going on inside Altaïr's thoughts. He threaded his fingers through Altaïr's hair briefly. It made Altaïr's eyes snap open and at him. He carefully tugged the tunic up with the shirt. Altaïr raised his shoulder a little, then the next one, then his head allowing Malik to remove it. The fight was gone from him. Malik wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but it was welcome.

Some stitches had been torn in the fight, but it was not terrible, they didn't need to be restitched. Malik leaned way over and pulled the towel with the medical supplied over. He didn't need to remain straddling Altaïr, but he chose to. In a way not ready to trust that Altaïr would just get up and go, and in a way he liked this position very much. It was easier to treat Altaïr, or so he told himself. After inspecting all the wounds, old and new, he concluded that in another week, all but the broken ribs will be mostly healed. "I sent word to Al Mualim not to expect you for a while, that you needed a fortnight to heal." He wished Altaïr would say something... the silence was unnerving. "I'd like you to stay that time. You are not invading. You are not disrupting. I want you here. I am not that busy either. I just do things so I can do things."

Malik shifted slightly to straddle Altaïr's thighs and motioned for him to sit up. "I want to rebandage your ribs to hold them in place to heal. He did not expect his own heart to jump as Altaïr did so. Or again as Altaïr wrapped one arm around Malik's waist with the other behind him to lean on for balance. He felt uncomfortably warm and refused to believe that he might be blushing. His hoped the lighting was dim enough that Altaïr would not notice. He focused on bandaging around Altaïr's chest carefully. It was very awkward straddling Altaïr's lap like this, easier to bandage, but dear Allah, let no one come in. Did I lock the front door?

Turmoil bubbled inside Malik. Turmoil between this closeness and the feelings of abandonment for the years they were solo assassins and the tragedy of Kadar which Malik had so bluntly yanked into their current memories. He moved his stump and used it to rub his face of the dampness on the folded sleeve. His spine snapped rigid when Altaïr leaned forward a little more and wrapped the other arm around him. After a few frantic fluttering heartbeats, he realized Altaïr was resting his head on his shoulder, not the one with the stump, but still. "Altaïr... I am never too busy. Really, even if I say I am. I am not. Not for you. But... I... I am lonely." He swallowed hard when he felt Altaïr tighten the hug and then felt Altaïr's shoulders shaking. He pushed his fingers into Altaïr's hair and the back of his neck and held him a while. We are both lonely...

A/N #2 – ART! By ShortieBat... a new art discovery today that inspired me for this chapter.

http:/ shortiebat .deviantart .com/art/Tears-of-Sorrow-162975133