DON'T SHOOT ME! I've been stressed beyond belief these past weeks (months actually), but I managed to succeed this semester with above average grades (could've been better if I didn't go on the hunting trip during the time of the week when we had to turn in major projects...).
Anywho... DON'T SHOOT ME! This oneshot was...difficult to say the least because it's so long and I was experimenting with the same tone as After the First Death is written in (excellent book!) as well as Monkey's Paw. So forgive the choppiness (suppose to be for emotional effect).
Warning: Lemon, fluff, and humor in this one.
There were days when Altaïr wondered why he loved Maria.
That damn, stubborn Templar.
Even as he searched the streets of Acre for her, allowing his sixth sense to guide him, his pent-up feelings of deprivation and annoyance grew with frightening intensity. He never showed these feelings in front of Maria, as he was told emotions of lust, love, and admiration...were all weaknesses for a man in his profession. But something in her brought back those dead sensations...
There. A golden light in a darkened alley. An outline of a woman caught his attention. A smirk crossed his features. Finally.
He stealthily made his way into the alleyway, being careful not to alert Maria to his presence. He crouched down behind some boxes when his target turned to the opening he came through, a most prominent and obvious frown fixed into her face. Her beautiful face that he loved to touch, those lips he was dying to kiss, those gorgeous grey orbs that he adored whenever their master glared at everything in her field of vision. Even him.
When was the last time they mated? A month? Two?
Maria turned away, only for a moment. But a moment was all he needed. Altaïr moved away from the boxes, swiftly making his way over to her. His large hand rested against her shoulder, pressing down gently against her smaller body. Altaïr felt her tense, then suddenly spring up like the coiled cobra that she was.
Maria's arm whirled around and her fist connected with Altaïr's face. He attempted to back away, holding a hand to his now possibly broken nose and trying to stem the blood flow. But Maria stepped forward and grabbed his arm, pinning it against his back and shoving the Assassin into the stone wall.
"Maria! Yla'an, it's me! Would you -" Altaïr growled, his voice suddenly lost with his head pressed firmly against the wall. He felt Maria's sharp intake of breath before she pulled away, allowing the Assassin room to readjust his balance.
"You piss-toad! Never sneak up on me like that! If you're going to meet me anywhere, I'd appreciate it if you did not treat me like a target!" Maria snarled, already examining Altaïr's injury herself. It amazed Altaïr how quickly the woman can switch from such polar emotions...anger, to sympathy...
Altaïr cracked his nose back into place and wiped the blood away before addressing Maria. The Englishwoman remained stoic, obviously waiting for him to speak. He couldn't help but smirk as he brought a calloused hand to her face.
"I honestly don't know how my life would be without your company, Maria...your punches, however, I could do without."
Maria snorted, but let a small smile emerge, "You would have a boring lifestyle, that I know, Assassin. By the way...have you healed from your last injury?"
Altaïr frowned at the memory. Maria was such a tigress that day. His lower stomach still ached from the blow her foot dealt...
"Maria, I have to return to Masyaf soon..."
Maria secretly scowled. She was hoping for a longer night with him. But no, he always claimed to be busy whenever they met and therefore their time together had to be quick. No, she would not allow her eagle to escape so swiftly. A plan touched her mind and she smiled, more so to the thought than the man in front of her. She reached up and planted a harsh kiss against his scarred lips.
Her kisses. Oh, how he missed them. They were rough, yet sweet. Her lips tasted like honey and spices as they closed around the tip of his tongue, suckling the muscle as if she were starved. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he began to exact his passion strongly upon her. He pressed her against the wall, already molding her between him and the stone and began to consume her much unlike their previous love-making. But the feeling of enchantment lasted only for a moment when he felt her pull away.
"Do you really expect me to give you what you want without challenge?" Maria smirked. She had felt her back pressed against the stone wall, and she knew it as a feeling of vulnerability. If the Assassin truly wanted her, he had to work for it. And she would show no such weakness by allowing him to win so easily.
Altaïr sighed irritably. He needed to return to Masyaf as soon as possible...specifically by dusk tomorrow. Why did Maria have to make this so difficult?
"Maria..." Altaïr growled when the woman successfully slipped away from his reach. A taunting smirk was revealed in the night before he heard her chuckle. "I don't have time for games..."
"Tisk, tisk...and you think I don't either? I have been waiting for far too long for this night, and you expect me to just let you take me in this smelly alleyway?" Maria's grin became smaller, more mysterious and menacing in appearance. She stepped forward, cupping Altaïr's cheek with a seductive glint shining in her ashen eyes. "Unacceptable, my eagle."
Her touch set his skin ablaze. He had to hold back his moans of longing as he felt her lips brush against his neck, then quickly retreating to test his will and determination of having her. So difficult...and he loved her for it.
The moment suddenly was interrupted.
"Who goes there?" Altaïr and Maria froze upon hearing a guard's voice. They turned to the entrance of the alleyway where a young recruit stood, wide-eyed at the scene he came across.
Isaac was befuddled. He heard moans and whispering in the alleyway and went to investigate. If it was something of interest, would he gain advancement if he resolved it? He most certainly was surprised to see this – a man and a woman, most likely much older than him, kissing one another as if both were starved.
Altaïr's eyes reverted back to its' normal cold, and calculating gaze. They narrowed at the young man, perhaps only sixteen, and he hissed, "Do you mind?"
The youth blinked. Who gave this white-hooded man permission to speak to him in that tone? A guard! "Straighten that tongue of yours, knave. You do not speak to your superiors like that." He raised his nose, proud at his well-rehearsed insult he obtained from his captain. If only someone was here to see him now...
Maria snarled, appalled at the youth for acting so snobby and rude. She was now irritated at him for more than just interrupting her teasing... "And you hold your tongue, youngling, or I'll rip it out myself. Now leave, before I make you."
Isaac's eyes narrowed at the woman in anger before addressing Altaïr again, "And keep your whore under control, too. We wouldn't want an unfortunate incident tonight..."
Assassin and Templar growled with indignation and annoyance. They had no time for this! Both drew their swords and approached the boy.
Isaac nearly panicked when he saw the couple draw swords from out of nowhere. It only grew when they marched toward him and he recognized the red sash and white robes of the man. It was an Assassin that killed hundreds of other guards before him! He took trembling steps backward, before turning fully and bolting back to headquarters.
Altaïr and Maria sighed in unison, glad to be rid of that nuisance. But no doubt he'll bring a whole squadron soon...
"I suppose it's not safe here anymore." Altaïr sighed, "Now what?"
Maria's eyes wandered across the terrain. Where would a good place be so they would not be disturbed again? Her gaze caught on a stone tower in the distance.
The structure was built proudly over the unoccupied Templar fortress of the late William of Montferrat. She always admired the design of the fortress. It was strong and well-thoughtout, with a fifty-foot stone wall surrounding the courtyard within. The fortress was virtually impenetrable by men of lesser skill.
Altaïr made her rethink those aspects, however.
She turned back to him, noticing that delicious look of longing in his eyes, and motioned to the tower with a jerk of her head. Altaïr followed her signal, at first a bit confused at her choice. But why was he confused? Maria always made things difficult...
"Race you there, my darling."
The door slammed in his face, and as he attempted to open it, he was met with the resistance of a bolted lock.
Altaïr introduced his forehead to the wooden frame. His nostrils flared from irritation, his heart beat erratically against his chest from the run through Acre.
He would not lose this battle against Maria, no matter how hard she made it for him.
He began to scale the wall. Ignoring the pain throbbing in his arms as he hoisted himself ledge after ledge, rock after rock. He wanted her. Right now. Nothing else mattered.
Altaïr finally arrived at a small ledge, recognizing a small lantern hanging from a post. Should be simple to get past.
Or at least that's how it looked like.
He jumped up and down, now directly below the post and struggling to let his fingers find purchase upon the wood. Alas, he was just not tall enough to grab hold of it.
He nearly screamed with frustration. It had been hurdles and obstacles tonight, leap after leap and still far from his goal!
No! He won't give up! Damnit, he came this far for her and he will not retreat now!
He hoisted himself onto the ledge, making his way over to the right side of the wall. Here, he could jump to the post, then continue to his beautiful Maria...
Altaïr prepared for the leap...
He yelped as his head smashed into the wooden frame of the post.
It was a bit higher than he thought...
Altaïr tried to keep his breathing calm as he stared at her back. She did not even turn around to acknowledge his presence yet, only continued to watch the horizon as if something cosmical or mythical were about to happen.
"What took you so long?" Maria questioned, still faced away from him.
"That damn ledge by the door."
"Ah." Maria replied simply, a knowing tone hidden in her voice. She finally moved, drawing her hood back as she did so. Maria smirked at him, those wonderful lips forming a near straight line with a slight puckering. His blood boiled, his body becoming more demanding as he watched her lips transcend this formation. He was amazed at how she could show such mirth in her smiles...
She lifted her hand, turning it palm up, and motioned him forward. Ordering him to come to her.
He swiftly made his way over to her, not even taking note of the hay spread across the center of the tower, and wrapped his arms around her.
Their lips met. And without interruption at last. Desire and lust swelled within each other, growing with great intensity that would likely damn them both to Hell. Neither cared for anything at that moment...the frustration, the difficulty, the teasing...they seemed to forget everything from the previous hours. Upon that tower, two worlds met once again, with the heavens and eagles watching from above. Peace at last. Almost.
They ripped each others' clothes away, cradling against one another as if this were their last night together. The fabric that dressed them was now lost in a dark corner, leaving the lovers exposed to each other. Once again.
Altaïr slowly laid Maria down upon the hay-strewn floor, kissing her with much ardor. At last, she was giving him what he wanted all along.
Maria gasped when she felt his lips brush against her collarbone before dipping to one of her breasts. She began to wrap her legs around his waist, giving him permission to proceed, but then that nagging voice in her head spoke:
'Don't let him win this!'
Maria chuckled to herself, which Altaïr took as a pleased giggle. She felt him move slightly, trying to find balance in between her legs.
Maria, with an unwarned jerk, flung their bodies over to where she laid on top of him. She chuckled again, then bent down to whisper into Altaïr's ear, "My dashing, Assassin...did you really think you could take me so easily?"
Altaïr was still recovering from the shock of being flipped over forcefully, and once he did recover, he growled with discontent. He felt her teeth nip at the flesh surrounding his mouth, and he could not help but let out a moan. Maria chuckled, and shifted her weight slightly, and before he could grasp the feeling, he had slipped into her.
They both gasped from the sensation, as the pleasure felt so alien, yet welcoming to them. When was the last time they experienced this moment with one another?
Their tongues met for a struggle of dominance, both trying to gain the upper hand. Their bodies twisted together, appendages intertwined as they tossed together amongst the hay, their coupling lasting for long minutes.
How was it that they, Assassin and ex-Templar, could find such solace together? Both believed this whole affair was dangerous, yet did not dare to relinquish it. They had to keep it in the dark, but whenever they were not within reach, the ache and need for companionship became stronger with every passing moment. The lovers do not risk their lives for the lust or the thrill...no, they do it for the need of another. That special feeling of admiration, responsibility, and above all, love.
Altaïr groaned softly against the flesh of Maria's throat, finally achieving release as Maria let loose a high pitched whine. The Assassin collapsed atop of his lover, both panting and utterly spent, with their hearts becoming one as the rapid beats melded together.
Altaïr lifted his head to meet Maria's eyes, and he pressed another kiss to her now tender lips.
They dressed quickly, as the questing fingers of the night's chill already began to invade their bodies. As Altaïr strapped on the last of his weapons, he returned his attention back to Maria. The Englishwoman smiled sadly even as he took her back into his arms and laid her down upon the grass surrounding them again, caressing her body as she did the same.
"Please, Maria...come to Masyaf with me." Altaïr whispered as he brushed her cheek with his hand, "These visits to Acre must stop...I'm the Grandmaster now, and I have duties I must devote my full time to."
"You know I cannot do that. Your Brothers will not accept me for being a former Templar, even if you claim that one can join if they have seen the truth." Maria shook her head sadly, causing a slight pang in Altaïr's heart, "Nothing is true, Altaïr...you told me this everyday while we were traveling. If I come with you, I will be treated harshly, contrary to what you claim. The insults will never lessen; they still don't."
"But everything is permitted, Maria. My Brothers have seen the light, as have you. They will accept you, maybe not at first, but will not treat you anything less than a human being."
Maria chewed the skin in her cheek. She wanted to join Altaïr, to be by his side. Until their deaths. She valued his company and his warm touch, but most of all, his friendship. But she would never subject herself to a simple life of a wife and mother. No, she was too ambitious for that lifestyle.
But, this was Altaïr! He would never expect her to behave like a housewife!
...Would he?
Oh, what to choose?
Maria was unaware that for the past few minutes, Altaïr was staring at her, his hazel eyes drinking her in and memorizing every particle of skin, knowing that this could be their final moment together.
Their eyes met, and it pained her. She did not know what to say, but it seemed her eyes told him for her, 'I don't know what I want.'
Altaïr pressed a kiss to Maria's forehead, whispering, "I understand, habibti. I did not expect you to agree in one night. But, if you change your mind, there is a pigeon coop in the poor district, near the tallest tower."
They held each other for long minutes, breathing in the others' scent, relishing their final moments together even as realization hit them. It was time for Altaïr to leave. To return to his previous life without her.
Their fingers remained locked together even as the man in white rose to his full height. He gazed down at his lover one last time, before he turned away.
Maria watched as he executed the Leap of Faith, like an eagle spreading its' wings.
Her eagle spreading his wings.
But who's wings were they?
I'm quite proud of myself for writing that last part.
WOW! Longest oneshot I have written! 3, 202 words...yikes...
So, review? PM? Story alert? Story Favorite? Text? Whatcha think?
Translations:
Yla'an - Damnit
habibti - Sweetheart