*Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or themes from the Assassins Creed franchise. Dialogue from the game is used in this story and has been altered and modified*

Thaletas woke in a cradle of soft pillows, the scent of Lavender clung to the air around him and offered some solace in the unfamiliar room. He couldn't remember when or how he moved to the plush bed on the opposite side of the cabin, but what he could remember was falling asleep to a calming female voice not long after Cicero exited the room.

There was a light blanket that was draped over him, it's soft fabric falling freely as he moved. Slowly, Thaletas began to sit upward. He was cautious, for the pain of his injury was still present although more bearable than before. As he rubbed his eye, the spartan noticed something odd, he looked at his clean hands and then down at his bare chest. There was no trace of blood left on his golden skin, no hint of dirt or grime that could be seen.

"Is sleepwalking common in Sparta ?" Cicero's deep voice echoed into the room. He carried a pitcher in his hands and appeared to be guarding something against entering behind him.

"About as common as being stripped in the middle of the night" Thaletas shifted his legs off the bed and rested his hands on his bare knees. The only clothing left on his person was the reminisce of his red tunic, the rest was tucked neatly next to the bed.

Cicero shook his head and smiled, remembering when the same events happened to him.

"Let me guess, the last thing you remember is a song and you woke to the scent of lavender" he spoke with a sarcastic tone in his voice as if to make fun of the situation.

He placed the pitcher on the table next to a bowl and looked over his shoulder at Thaletas, who stared at him with raised brows. Cicero poured some water into a cup and grabbed a piece of bread out of the bowl, "you must be famished," he said, as he made his way over to the bed.

Thaletas ran his fingers through his short, black hair. It wasn't that he was uneasy about the situation and if anything, he was grateful for it. But if Alera had done what Thaletas thought she had done, he would have expected her to be there in the morning and not her second in command.

"Where is your commander, now?" Thaletas was eager to see Alera again, if for nothing else than to thank her for what she had done. However, while his heart still burned for Kyra, he could not deny his attraction to the mysterious leader and her heightened ability to fight.

Cicero bore a crooked smile, the sudden interest the man took of his commander was not much of a surprise, for he once felt the same " She went to the temple shortly after leaving you, I haven't seen her since." This was not unusual for Alera, and so, Cicero didn't pay much mind to her sudden disappearance. However, he could see the disappointment in Thaletas's warm, brown eyes, "Do you have a name, Spartan?" Cicero asked as he knelt, changing the course of the conversation. He handed Thaletas the water and bread, watching his movements tentatively.

Thaletas looked up, his eyes meeting Cicero's for the first time "Thaletas," he answered, graciously accepting the items presented to him. "You?" he asked before quenching his overbearing thirst.

Cicero waited for Thaletas to finish his drink before he answered, "Cicero," he said finally, reaching for the now-empty vessel. He rose and began walking back toward the table.

There was a still silence between the men. Thaletas pulled the bread apart and ate it with caution. He could see that Cicero was distracted, but he was not certain by what. There was so much mystery surrounding him and his commander, it was hard not to be intrigued.

For being a man with so much size, Cicero moved with a sort of grace and fluidity that was mesmerizing. He was truly a handsome specimen, with strong arms and bold thighs that hid underneath his grey tunic and heavy silver armor. He couldn't have been much older than Thaletas, which made the spartan feel even more intimidated by him. It was as if all the confidence Thaletas felt in himself had suddenly vanished underneath Cicero's dominant aura.

"You're a general?" Thaletas asked, breaking the silence between them. He remembered the man mentioning it briefly the night before and was interested in any other similarities they might share. Thaletas struggled to raise himself off the cushions and found himself stumbling to gain his balance, he didn't want to draw attention to himself and rejected the idea of help.

However, Cicero saw this out of the corner of his eye and raced to catch the wounded man. He knew Thaletas was weak from his injuries and didn't think anything less of him because of it, but Thaletas wouldn't understand this, and he would take it as a crushing blow to his credibility as both a man and a leader.

At first, Thaletas rejected this, moving away from Cicero in every way that he could. He stood once again and stumbled towards the large wooden bean which stood a few feet away from him. He held onto it tightly, his nails curled into the wood as he tried to compose himself and dilute his anger and frustrations. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, it's touch sending chills down his bare, back.

"You don't have to be ashamed of needing help, Thaletas," Cicero whispered in a soothing voice. He couldn't help but feel inclined to study Thaletas's bare form, soaking up every detail of his flexed back and every curve of his muscles. " I made that mistake once, In Argolis. It was a mistake I would never make again."

Thaletas turned to face Cicero, intrigued by his remarks, and eager to know more.

"You commanded the Spartan armies of Argolis?" He questioned.

"Yes," Cicero confirmed, his hand moved with Thaletas, and rested on the peak of his chest. He was not proud of his past as a General, having lost many good men due to his regrettable pride.

Thaletas leaned against the wooden beam, his mind racing with the stories he heard about the horrific battles that took place in the region. Some regarded the generals there with much respect, awed by their bravery and willingness to do what was expected of them. Others, however, saw the men for what they truly were, mindless war machines with only one intention, and no matter how many lives it took to succeed in their conquest, they would take them without a second thought, even if those lives were of their blood.

Cicero watched the man's eye as they read over him, he already knew what Thaletas was thinking and felt the need to clear the air between them. He dropped his hand to his side and rested it on the hilt of his sword.

"If there is something you wish to ask me, Spartan, now would be the opportune moment." Cicero's spoke with an assertive tone, he sounded just as you would expect a Spartan general to sound, but there was also something else in his voice that was comforting, although, Thaletas couldn't pinpoint what it was.

" If you commanded the troops in Argolis, then where you not one of the commanding generals at the battle of Epidaurus?" Thaletas hesitated to ask this, he had heard about the near loss of when he was still only a soldier, it was a bloody battle that raged on for days. Many Spartan lives were lost in the struggle to maintain dominance over the land, and while the spartans remained victorious, it was not without its sacrifices.

Cicero's stomach turned at the mention of Epidaurus. He turned his back to Thaletas, not wanting him to see the hatred and the remorse that began to manifest in his eyes. "Yes," he sighed, gipping the edge of the table. For years Cicero had to live with the overwhelming guilt that hung over him. " I lost so many men, young men…boys," He curled his fingers into tight fists as the memories came crawling back to him. Flashes of memories appeared before his eyes, bringing him back to the night he almost lost it all, the same night he met Alera.

Thaletas managed to make his way over to Cicero, he knew the same pain he was feeling, he had lost men over the years, more recently than ever before. He placed his hand on Cicero's shoulder, the cold plating sending shivers down his bare body. He didn't know what to say to him or what comfort he could offer. They were both broken men, hardened by the seeds of war.

"If it weren't for you and your commander, I would have never made it off that beach." Thaletas choked on his words, never once did he have to have such an intimate talk with anyone, not even Kyra.

"You are general to those men now, Thaletas." Cicero covered Taletas's hand and squeezed it tightly, he turned to him and looked deeply into his brown eyes, "Do not make the same mistakes I did."

Thaletas didn't need Cicero to elaborate on what he meant by this. While the whole of Sparta celebrated him as a hero, there were those among Cicero's ranks who criticized him. They chastised him for not waiting for reinforcements and believed his decision to attack the Athenian force was made purely from his heart and his love of Sparta rather than using his head and accepting the help offered to him.

As the two men shared a silent moment they discovered much about each other and themselves that they did not see before. Similarities, differences, and hidden emotions that didn't previously exist. Although they had just met, It was clear that Thaletas and Cicero understood each other. Both Kassandra and Kyra ultimately fought for themselves and their own crusades, whether it be revenge or for their gain. They would never understand what it would have been like to completely devote themselves to a cause or their country.

"Cicero!" a man called urgently from above deck, "there's riders approachin!"

Cicero's eyes went dark as he shot a quick glance at Thaletas before excusing himself from the room, "Stay here." he ordered.

There was no reason for anyone to be advancing towards the ship at this hour of the morning unless it was someone who already knew of the ship's identity and the crew it carried aboard. Before Alera departed, she specifically ordered the crew to dismantle the black sails they flew and remain without colors until they were ready to depart. It was a strange request to give, especially being that the sails where already cloaked in the darkness of the night, but the crew never hesitated and obeyed their commander.

As Cicero climbed the stairs he could hear the endless chatter of the crew, whispering words filled with lies and altered truths. While he did not stop to listen to what the sailors were gossiping, but what he did catch with his acute hearing sent a rattling chill down his spine.

"It's them...they found us… the cult…"

*Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or themes from the Assassins Creed franchise. Dialogue from the game is used in this story and has been altered and modified*