*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*

For Kassandra, the hours passed in painfully slow notions. Alera's words played over in her mind as she attempted to dissect what she had said. What exactly did Alera know, and how was she connected to her brother? It was clear at this point that Alera was not just a simple mercenary as she had claimed to be, but the question that weighed most heavily on Kassandra was why Alera had kept her knowledge of Alexios a secret. Just the idea of Alera knowing and possibly aiding Alexios made her sick. She Leaned over the railing of the Adrestia and waited for the nausea to pass as the rain fell around her.

Meanwhile, onboard the Spyro, Alera and Cicero sat in the commander's cabin in complete silence. They waited for Thaletas to fall into a deep sleep before they began to speak, but while the two of them remained quiet the familiar pandemonium of tension grew louder. It wasn't until Alera could hear the spartan's soft breathing, that she rose from her seat at the table and waded over to the writing desk in the corner. Her fingers trailed over the dark wood, making love to the creases and imperfections that covered it, searching for something she had hidden.

Alera had yet to change out of her dark Grecian dress, the rain had come before she could escape below deck and as a result, the dress's thin fabric clung to her toned body and outlined the muscles of her stomach and legs. She was a divine specimen of a woman. Strong, but not overbearing and desirable in every way. If you saw her in the marketplace or the streets, you would have never known how deadly she truly was.

Cicero watched Alera's movements closely, from her swaying hips to her swift-moving hands. He was leaning against the cabin door, doing his best not to get too aroused by her sensual gestures. Finally, he had to turn away from her, clearing his throat as he wandered to the table.

" You didn't call me down here just to tempt me, did you?" With his back to her, Cicero began to undo the belt that wrapped around his waist. A low groan escaped his lips as the weight of the heavy sword fell off his hip.

Alera smiled at his sound, she looked over her shoulder to catch a quick look at him. She could stare at him for hours, every curve of his bulging muscles from his biceps to his thighs, she could memorize every line and still want to learn more. She looked away before he could notice and began to speak in a soft voice, careful not to wake Thaletas.

" Not intentionally. " she purred. Her fingers stopped when they reached a small lip in the wood.

"Well, whether intentional or not, you are doing a good job of it." Cicero placed his sword onto the table next to a pitcher of wine and continued, " So why have you asked me here?" he asked, as he began to serve himself.

"Kassandra mentioned that Thaletas asked you to command his men in his absence," Alera didn't turn to look at him, but instead opened the hidden compartment and pulled out a series of parchment letters, "I'm interested in why?"

Cicero was about to take a sip of his wine when he paused, "That he did." he said with a sigh. He put the cup down and turned his head to watch Thaletas as he slept, his muscular chest rising and falling with every breath. There was something about the Spartan that drew Cicero in, a warm and humble feeling that made him feel at peace. But even so, he felt ashamed for how much he had shared with him, and how vulnerable he allowed himself to be.

The sudden silence caught Alera's attention. She looked over her shoulder and followed Cicero's gaze. She could see the logging in his blue eyes and instantly knew he was attached. "You seem to be quite taken with him," she suggested, before turning her attention back to the letters.

Cicero realized he had lost himself in his thoughts, "We understand each other." he said quickly.

Alera smiled discreetly, she knew there was more to Cicero's affections than he led on, but his business was his own. So, she made a simple 'hmm' sound to show that she understood, and shuffled through the letters until she found the one she was looking for, the one with the name "Deimos'' written on it. She seemed lost looking at the name as if caught in the meaning and mesmerized by its owner. It wasn't until she heard Cicero speak again that she was taken out of her trance.

"Besides," he began, "you've made quite the impression on him already." He lifted the cup to his lips and drank.

"Is that so?"Alera cood, glancing over at Thaletas.

"Mhmm," Cicero confirmed as he poured himself some more wine. Just before he pressed the cup to his lips he quickly added "and Kassandra seems to have a wandering eye for you as well." He kept his voice muted and washed away the jealousy with the sweet wine.

Alera felt a tightness in her chest as soon as she heard Kassandra's name. She placed the letters back on the desk and leaned heavily on the wooden ledge. "I wish I knew how to tell her and about her brother." She said softly, trying not to choke on the knot in her throat.

"Ahh, so that's why you called me down here," Cicero complained. He rose out of his chair and walked over to Alera, "and how is your dear Deimos?" A small laugh escaped him as he teased her, but Alera did not find him to be amusing.

She was quick to respond, raising her voice just enough to make her intentions clear, "Deimos…" She paused and lowered her voice, "Alexios…is not the reason I called for you." Alera kept her back turned, attempting to hide her body's feverish reaction.

Cicero moved silently, a smile growing as he snuck up to Alera. He was smiling because he loved watching how Alera reacted to the mention of Deimos being hers. He moved his worn hands around her and placed them on the desk, trapping her against him. He would never outright admit his love for her because he didn't have to. From the time they had first met, Alera and Cicero knew that they were connected by more than just physical attraction or desire. But that deeper connection didn't eliminate their lustful need, if anything it strengthened it.

"Ahh, yes" Cicero purred, "you want to know why the Spartan asked me to command his troops." Cicero's lips were barely touching Alera's soft skin when he heard a loud crack of thunder coming from outside the ship. His head shot up as he anticipated the next sound.

Alera covered one of Cicero's hands with hers and looked over her shoulder at him. "This is just like the night we met, do you remember?" she asked in a whisper, careful not to block out the sound of the pouring rain.

Cicero inhaled deeply, he was taken back by the sudden change in conversation but welcomed it regardless. "How could I not?" he answered. He pulled his hand out from under her and turned her around to face him, stroking the side of her face as he spoke, " By the time the Athenians invaded the shores of Epidauros, we had already claimed our victory. You spoke of our conquest as though it was the will of the Gods, but in this triumph, you gave me a warning..." Cicero paused, the memories of the battle coming back to haunt his words.

Alera placed a cold hand on his stubbled cheek, "Victory does not come without sacrifice." she whispered sweetly, finishing Cicero's depiction.

Cicero ran his hand through Alera's damp hair. He grabbed a handful of the light brown locks and gently tilted her head back. He looked deeply into her icy blue eyes, she was just as beautiful then as she was when he had first seen her in the Temple known as Epidauros Akropolis.

"But, I was too proud to listen to the admonition of an Oracle," Cicero confessed. He ran his thumb over her chapped lips and instantly felt the heat of desire wrack through his whole body. He pulled Alera closer, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. A low groan manifested within him as he felt the bareness of her back underneath his hand. The goosebumps that ran across her skin aroused him further until he could no longer fight his need, and placed a hot kiss on her lips.

Alera sank into the kiss as though she needed to quench an unbearable thirst. She opened her mouth and eagerly waited for that spark of excitement when Cicero's tongue would caress hers. It had been months since she had tasted his kiss, and now she was practically begging for it. She drank every breath of air he offered her and relished every flick of his passionate tongue as it danced against hers. A fire had been lit between them, and at that moment, any worry or doubt that occupied Alera's mind had melted into the heat of desire and passion.

It was often easy for Alera to get lost in Cicero's romantic ways. From the way he lightly touched her skin while they kissed, to the way his fingers tangled with her hair. It was moments like that where she would remember who she was. As Cicero so tenderly reminded her, she was an oracle, a messenger of the gods, and whether she liked it or not, she was forced to see things that others couldn't and often shouldn't. In that moment, she envisioned Cicero's thoughts, his future, and his desires, all without speaking a word.

Cicero felt Alera's body grow heavy as she leaned deeper into his kiss. He held her tighter, lengthening their embrace until he was practically gasping for air. He pulled away slowly, not wanting to alarm Alera with his sudden need to breathe. His hand fell gently to the side of her face as he waited for her eyes to open. He gently stroked her cheek as he regained his breath, heavily panting behind his closed lips.

"What did you see?" Cicero asked softly.

Alera opened her eyes slowly, as though afraid too. Uncontrollable tears were forming in her eyes, and while she knew she could be vulnerable with Cicero, and he would never judge her, she refused to let those teardrops fall. She knew that Cicero would never hide anything from her, and therefore felt obligated to tell him the truth. But there was no happy ending in the truth, not for her or for Cicero.

"If you lead the spartan armies against Poldarkes…" Alera struggled to make the words she needed to say. She lifted a gentle hand and wrapped it around Cicero's, leaning her head into his palm for a moment before guiding the back of his hand to her lips. In kissing him she continued, "We will forever be apart…"

Alera's hands trembled as she spoke. Although she had proven herself to be an admirable fighter with seemingly limitless heroism, she was still human and she had her fears. The thought of losing Cicero would forever haunt her until it eventually happened, this is what she feared the most.

*Want to find out what was in that letter from Deimos? An extended version of this chapter is available on , Simply join the "writer's block" tier for access to the extended version and more*