[A/N: Hello everyone! I had forgotten to include this in the last chapter, but to get an idea of the song Ann played, for anyone curious, here is the youtube link to the song closest to her performance for Altaïr: https/youtu.be/FLXKE4NLphM
Reborn by Really Slow Motion
Thank you all again for your support, reviews, favorites, and follows!]
Chapter 18
Air stretched between them, cold, and still as the assassin that held her. Ann wasn't even certain he was breathing, the man that kept his sword between them and the black assassin never once wavered even after their long, grueling hours of training.
It felt like an eternity wafted by before finally it was the assassin in black who stirred. Boots clopping against the floor, he came up to the closest aisle bench to him and swung the sack he carried off his shoulder onto the seat. His attention left her and Altaïr only for him to rummage idly through his belongings.
"What are you doing here?" Altaïr finally loosed his tongue, irritated that this man was paying him little mind.
"Are we brothers not allowed to find solace here anymore?" Not once turning from his task, the black assassin proceeded to pull various things from his bag. Along the bench he placed two corked bottles, what looked like neatly folded clothes, and a draw string leather bag.
Ann felt the muscles in Altaïr's arm grow tenser. She didn't have to look beneath the hood to know he was fuming at the man's disregard toward him.
"You'll do well to answer my questions," Altaïr demanded. "You're being here is no coincidence, you've been following us this whole time."
This time the man looked up, but Ann got the distinct feeling his eyes did not fall to Altaïr. "I make it a point to keep track of what I care about. Do you?"
The leather of Altaïr's glove squeaked against the tightening grip on his sword. "Enough of this, tell us why you are here."
The black assassin straightened his posture, at last turning fully back to them. "To help a dear friend."
Something clicked at the sound of his voice, but disbelief held onto her. With the pure adrenaline in her veins that enabled her to move, Ann slowly pulled away from Altaïr. She took a few steps, her eyes only able to see the lower half of the man's face beneath the hood even as she came halfway between him and Altaïr. He stood perfectly still, letting her assess him, to connect the dots on her own. Dark blonde stubble that outlined the makings of a goatee along his chin and mouth to a couple of sandy locks that curled at the nap of his neck, and lastly… the two distinct beauty marks at the side of his jawline.
Water stung the corners of her eyes, but there was only one way to be sure.
"Faris…?"
The man's shoulders relaxed at the name on her lips before he reached up and pulled back his hood.
And there it was…
There he was.
That disheveled sandy hair. Those dipped in chocolate brown eyes she had known for years.
"Good to see you again, Ann." That damning smile she knew so well across his lips—she lost herself entirely to the next overwhelming emotion that roared and surged within her.
She darted for him, and Faris, his arms opened wide to receive her, suddenly found her shoulder ramming into his gut until his body hurtled backwards onto the floor and his sword yanked free from his hilt to be pointed directly at him.
"You!" Ann snapped as she advanced on him, angry tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Easy—easy!" Faris had just enough time to scramble backwards from the point of his sword. "I just shaved this morning!"
"Oh really? You missed a spot!" Ann lunged, but Faris leaped to his feet and out of the way.
"Please, Ann!" He nearly tripped over a nearby bench when she came for him again. "Please, we can talk about this!"
"What's there to talk about!?" She snapped. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the reason I'm here to begin with!"
"Me!? Aren't you taking that a little far out of context?"
Ann lunged again, but this time without the sword as she snatched the front of Faris' shirt, just like Altaïr had shown her in their combat training, and jerked him towards her. "YOU were the one that lead me right to them!"
With that found strength that surprised even her, she threw him back until he practically bounced off the floor. "You CONVINCED me to give them a chance if things got rough, and I find it oddly convenient that not long after you tried to butter me up to them that things got explicably much harder than usual and one of their "agents" conveniently came out of nowhere and asked me to work with them!"
"Ann—!"
"They kept me locked in that—that—THING for over a month! OVER a MONTH, Faris!"
Faris managed to roll away before she swung at him again, jumping off the ground with his hands up. "I didn't know, I swear I didn't know they would do that!"
"And not long after that, after they RELUCTANTLY let me go, I find myself here with no knowledge or explanation as to WHY!"
Faris backed himself against a wall and no sooner had he realized it, the knife Ann previously used against Altaïr and slipped back into her sleeve, slid free and she hurtled it straight for him. With nary a second to think, the knife caught his sleeve and embedded itself into the wall, pinning his arm on the spot.
No sooner did Ann see her target through did the overbearing tremors in her body finally take over. The violent quakes in her legs as tears flooded her vision before her knees gave out from under her. Her hands, clapped on the floor as Faris' sword skittered out of her grasp, were all that kept her from collapsing completely.
"What did they do to me, Faris?" It was all she could do not to sob. "Why am I here…?"
Dear god she was tired, but she wanted answers! She was relieved to see an old friend, but too much flooded her brain now. She wanted to scream, to cry, to sleep, to wake up and realize this whole situation had just been one long roller coaster of a dream. Her mind whirled when she thought she heard someone say her name before she was lifted off the floor. Cradled in strong arms, she recognized the musky scent from Altaïr.
"Give me the word and I'll give you blood." Ann barely registered he had whisked her away from Faris, whose arm was still pinned to the wall, and carried her toward what was deemed her sleeping corner.
"Don't kill him…," she muttered. She didn't have the strength to wipe off her tear-stricken face. "I need answers and…"
"And?"
The hope that her old friend that she used to trust with her life still resided in him. That the reason he was here for her now was genuinely for her and not another stunt for that damned pharmaceutical company, Abstergo.
"I don't know…," as if she could be any more limp, she felt her body sag. "I… just need to figure a few things out."
"Hn." She heard his acknowledgment before she felt the enticing plush of pillows beneath her. How she welcomed their comfort, but loathed the sudden cool air when she felt Altaïr pull away. "Rest now. You've had a long day."
"But Faris—"
"Leave him to me, I am not as winded as you are."
"Don't kill him, Altaïr, I—"
She stopped when calloused fingers tilted her chin up. There beneath his hood she could make out the faint glint of his amber eyes cast in shadow.
"Rest," he repeated, his voice hushed, "and be at peace. You'll have your answers."
Ann was uncertain if him dealing with Faris without her was comforting or not, but his words echoed the weight in her that anchored her to the cushions. It was when he pulled away, his touch leaving her, that she reluctantly settled.
*~*
There was a sense of pride in him. He stood ready to protect the woman, but she found her own strength to take on this black assassin and in her movements he saw his teachings. Only one day and she picked up more than his novice brothers hoped to. He caught himself smiling when she knocked him down, and was even more impressed with her use of her dagger. He recalled… there was a point she said to Al Mualim of her skill with projectile weaponry. He made a mental note that she should receive plenty of daggers before their next mission.
But next to pride, many other emotions swelled. The anger, pain, and confusion on Ann's face, in her actions—all of these she expressed before, but never to this extent. Not to this level right in front of him. The image of her buckled to the floor alone, broken and defeated unhinged him.
The things she said, an insight to her mysterious past... Imprisonment? Experiment? Lies and deceit she endured and seeing glimpses of it before him fueled anger. It was all he could do to go to her, to take her away for rest, and to not cut this man, Faris in half for bringing her to her knees.
"She needs a tonic." Altaïr had returned to the front of the temple just as Faris had yanked the dagger from the wall, freeing his arm. "If you want her to be in top shape to train more tomorrow, she needs to drink the bo—"
"You contend with me now." Altaïr made no move for his sword, but his fingers flexed at his sides, ready to move at a given moment.
Faris sighed, his head dropping in a shake. "Do we have to fight? I swear I'm here to help, not make matters worse."
"From the state she is now rendered in because of you, I disagree."
"Please, I patched her up before to avoid risk of her wound growing into something worse, now I just want to make sure she can stay on her feet for what future days may bring."
The wound in her side. An incident this man didn't hesitate to rub in Altaïr's face as he had done from their last encounter.
"Can we at least let her decide?" Faris pushed when Altaïr didn't respond. "Let Ann choose if she'd want the tonic I brought for her or not."
"How did you know we would be training?"
"I've kept a close eye on you two—believe it or not, I consider her to be my family and I will do whatever it takes to make sure she is okay."
For once Altaïr could see the fierce determination in his eyes. Nothing about this man struck him as similar to those of the nine targets he dealt with. While they had their own beliefs that they were doing good in their demented ways, this Faris at least seemed… a little more genuine.
Slowly, Altaïr turned and looked to the bench Faris had first laid the items out over.
"The blue one," Altaïr heard Faris speak from behind him. "The blue bottle is what she needs tonight."
Altaïr glanced back to Faris. Ann might trust him enough, but how could he? What if the bottle was poisoned? Laced with something that would give Faris the upper hand later? Regardless, if anything went wrong, Altaïr would not hesitate to take the man's life on the spot. Helper be damned, he did not trust this newcomer, even if he did claim to abide by the Creed. "You and I will deal this out first. If I deem you to be trusted, she can make her choice."
"Fine, whatever. Interrogate me. Tie me to the roof if you want, I don't fucking care."
Resisting the urge to throw punches right then and there was going to be harder than Altaïr preferred, but he motioned to the door. "After you. We settle this outside."
*~*
Now, it was just him and Faris out in a clearing as Ann slept within the temple ruin. The moon drifting high overhead with little to no clouds to blanket the stars as Altaïr stared down Faris, unhooded.
"So what are we doing?" Faris started. "Is it punches we're throwing? Swords? I could do without your chronic hateful glare. It's getting old and frankly not all that effective."
"You like to prattle, don't you." Altaïr's hand twitched, eager to reach for a weapon. "Then explain yourself."
"Explain what part about me, exactly? Which part of our brotherhood I belong to? How long I've been tailing you? Why did I keep a distance the entire time except for when it matters?"
"Enough! You are just rambling at this point. Tell me exactly what she was talking about in there."
This time Faris hesitated to speak.
"Is that what it takes to still your tongue? What do you know of her position here?"
Faris loosed an aggravated sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "That is not really a simple answer I can give you, you know."
"We have all night. Don't waste my time and start talking. What information can you give me? What do you know of Ann's being here?"
"Look, all I can tell you is that the people I used to work for brought her here. For what reasons, I don't even know. I found out about it and immediately broke off to come after her."
Altaïr's eyes narrowed. "People you used to work for? You're telling me that there is a group of our brother's that operate under a command outside of our creed?"
"No, they approached me specifically because they were impressed with my work and I was in a bind. Can you blame a guy for wanting to make sure he could afford to eat? There weren't hiring for assassinations anyway."
Altaïr wasn't going to go out on a limb for sympathy. The man didn't deserve it in his eyes. All he could hear was Ann's desperate voice demanding and crying out about what "those people" did to her. And it all started with Faris leading her right to them from what he was able to grasp.
"Then what do you know that they did to her? She remarked being locked up for a month. Can you tell me that?"
"I have no answer to that. All I can tell you is that I believed they were decent people, but clearly Ann was right and I was wrong. I never should have trusted them in the first place and now, because of them, because of me, my dearest friend's life has been put at risk and I am doing what I can to atone for my mistakes."
Altaïr crossed his arms. "Could still be an easy tale to spin to wait for us to lower our guard."
"After I have done nothing but help?"
"Tactics anyone can use to win the trust of their target."
Faris threw his hands up. "Oh just fuckin' punch me and call it done, I'm not here for you anyway!"
"All the more reason I shouldn't trust you and whatever it is you're trying to pull over her."
"And why, dare I say, does it matter to you what happens to her or not? Would it not be easier for you to go back about your life, your missions without her in the picture? I at least can take her home, what is it exactly are you hoping to gain here?"
Altaïr's jaw clenched. His balled fists at his side were all that kept him from leaping onto Faris and freeing his hidden dagger. It made sense for Faris to have an idea about Ann and her life, but for him to speak on his own perspective crossed a dangerous line.
"Because we have taken her under our brotherhood," Altaïr's voice seethed below his breath. "What happens to her is my responsibility." He only cleared four targets, just barely halfway towards his reclaiming his master title. With Ann now charged under his watch, her fate could easily become his damnation if he failed her. Al Mualim made it clear that failure was no longer an option, not with this second chance given to him. That was the real reason he cared about what happened to her, right?
The image of her tear-filled eyes stirred something in him that said otherwise.
"Then perhaps I'll visit your branch of the brotherhood, won't I?" Faris pressed on. "This place isn't her home and I can take her back to where she really belongs. Where she's actually valued and wanted. Surely your master would understand this."
The thought of Ann no longer being at his side during his missions should have made Altaïr relieved, right? Yet why did he feel threatened? "What makes you think that I would le—"
"I already know where your brotherhood is in Maysaf. I follow the Creed too, I would say better than some," Altaïr's lip curled at Faris' insinuation, "Like I said, I make it a point to keep an eye on who I care about. Don't think that I trust her safety in your hands either. She already got hurt once on your account. Negligence is what you seem to excel at, rig—!?"
Altaïr let his fists fly, the first hitting Faris' square in the jaw, the next aiming for his ribs, but the man had moved to block by that point.
"That's right!" Faris howled, his own fists up as he blocked and ducked the next strikes Altaïr swung at him. "Hit me! Hit me with all you've got, that'll win her over for sure!"
Red filled Altaïr's vision against the night—he WILL have this bastard on his ass for his words! His hands found his sword and he moved to swing, but metal clashed with metal as Faris threw his own sword to block.
"Aha!" His laugh grated Altaïr's ears. "Now we're talking real bloodshed now, is that it?"
"You will stop talking!" Altaïr snapped as he swung his blade down again, but Faris whirled out of the way.
"Why? Because the old assassin has a sensitive ego?" He could see Faris' smirk under the moonlight and he moved to strike again, meeting another counter. The fact that Faris only moved to hold his ground and not once attack back angered Altaïr more.
"Because your tongue will be the death of you," Altaïr pushed into his sword that still held strong against Faris', forcing the arrogant man back as he did. "And I promised her not to kill you!"
Altaïr shoved forward and, to Faris' surprise, managed to throw him to the ground with his sword pointed straight at him. At least here was exactly how far Altaïr allowed himself to go.
"I'm only letting you live because she wishes it and needs your answers." Altaïr relished in the glare Faris shot him from beneath his blade. "You want to win back her affection? Start by telling her the truth come first light when she wakes. Give her the solace she needs and only then will I consider not spilling your blood."
"You're one hell of a bastard, I hope you know that."
