Lieutenant Lyle Barnes stepped from behind the marble desk, still grinning widely. He waved a dismissive hand toward the plumed guards,
"Thank you for bringing him here. You can go now," he said curtly. One of the guards curled a lip, but said nothing.
"Yes sir," was the short reply, and they departed without complaint. Barnes shifted his attention to Thomas and embraced the knight, clapping him hard on the back. Thomas blushed faintly and hesitated, eyeing the third knight with uncertainty. Thomas, after a short pause, returned the gesture and pressed his face into Lyle's chest, losing himself in the scent and the feel. Lyle brought one hand slowly across Thomas's face, caressing his chin and cheeks gently and Thomas closed his eyes at the touch. Abruptly, the older knight, who was still standing in the room, cleared his throat loudly,
"Infidels!" he coughed into his elbow. Hastily, Thomas and Lyle broke apart and stepped away from one another.
"Er…" Lyle said, motioning toward the aged knight, "this is Captain Asher. He's behind much of our tactical planning and battle strategy," Thomas saluted to the soldier, and Asher nodded in return,
"Yes, well, lovely meeting the recruits, but I have business to attend to. I was just on my way out anyway and," he said, casting a dark glance toward Lyle, "I wouldn't want to interrupt anything. Farewell, Barnes, and remember what I've told you." Barnes saluted and the Captain departed, leaving Thomas and Barnes in the room. Alone. Lyle looked at Thomas and smiled charmingly.
"Well, now that he's gone," he said demurely, "we can… catch up." Thomas suddenly felt uncomfortable; Lyle's tone and his expression betrayed his intentions. Thomas quickly stepped behind the desk, pointedly separating the two men.
"Lieutenant Barnes…" Thomas began, but Lyle interrupted,
"Come now, formalities are unnecessary here…" Barnes said and he circled the desk. Thomas evaded him, using the desk as a barrier,
"Lyle, I need to talk to you. It is very important that we speak…" but Barnes laughed,
"And is there any reason why we could not speak later? There are other needs that are more… demanding," he said in low voice. Thomas gulped,
"N-no, we must discuss this now," he stuttered, "There are knights in this city who are behaving most inappropriately." Lyle bit his lip seductively,
"Oh? Knights being bad, are they? I don't suppose that I…" but Thomas could stand no more,
"Lyle, stop this!" Thomas interjected, Lyle stopped smiling, "This is neither the time nor the place for this." Lyle frowned,
"Thomas… it's been so long…"
"Then a few more minutes will not harm you!" was Thomas's response. Barnes looked hurt,
"Thomas, you don't want this? Have you not missed me these past years?" Thomas shook his head sadly,
"No, Lyle, I have. I've ached and yearned for you. But I want you, Lyle, not just your body. There is more to us than simple carnal desire; I would not lessen our relationship with a meaningless union, especially after all of this time," Thomas took a deep breath," and I did not come here for you, or for myself." Lyle face assumed a sulky expression; the knight was clearly unhappy.
"Fine, then. Then why are you here?"
"There are knights, Templars, who are committing crimes and yet, walk unpunished," Thomas said, and his voice was filled with sadness, "We are to bring order and stability to the world. But instead, we sow chaos and madness. This is not the way of the Templar Order; why have our soldiers adopted such reckless manners?" Lyle shifted uncomfortably,
"The knights," he said slowly, "are not to blame. The Templar Knights do indeed protect the innocent and the disadvantaged," Thomas shook his head vehemently,
"No," he said angrily, "our men are out there murdering innocents! We do not protect them; they fear us, Lyle. We are not knights here. We are executioners." Lyle averted his eyes and looked at the ground.
"And what can I do about it? I cannot control the actions of others…" The excuse was weak, and Thomas knew it.
"Lyle, those men fall under your jurisdiction. Any crime that is theirs is yours. They are you responsibility, Lieutenant!" The last word was spoken with unintentional bitterness.
"But Thomas, look around. These are not people," Lyle said seriously, "these are heathens, infidels and godless monsters. Their customs, their appearance… they do not deserve the salvation we offer." Thomas stood silent, incredulous and mouth agape.
"You… cannot mean that, Lyle," he said after a moment, "They have men, women and children, just England does. They cry tears, they bleed the same crimson color. They dream and hope and laugh and pray, just as you and I do. I joined the Order to help people like them, because of the example you set. I looked up to you. And for you to claim these people inhuman is…" and even though there was no word for Thomas's emotion, the meaning was understood by both knights. Thomas sat weakly on the desk, feeling strangely fatigued, both physically and mentally. Lyle sat in silence for a few minutes before saying,
"So is that what you wanted to talk about?"
"Yes," Thomas said softly, "that is all." Lyle clapped his hands together,
"Excellent, now we can move on to something more important." Thomas sighed,
"I don't know what you're-" but he was cut off as Lyle's mouth covered his. Thomas's eyes widened and he struggled against the larger man.
"Lyle, stop, I don't want to do this right now…" but Lyle would not be denied.
"Thomas, I have been waiting for you. I have waited for this for five years," he said as he slid his tongue down Thomas's neck. Thomas let out a small noise, but he did not yield.
"L-lyle… unh… please, not right now…" Thomas pleaded, but Lyle did not respond. His large hands wandered Thomas's landscape, pulling here and pinching there. They slid underneath Thomas's shirt and past his pants, and as his fingers brushed against that most sensitive part, Thomas would have no more.
"I said no!" he shouted, and struck out at Lyle. But the Lieutenant's grin just smiled and he pinned the younger knight's wrist to the desk.
"Lyle, don't do this!" he screamed as Lyle began to disrobe him. Tears began to cloud his vision and panic rose in his chest. Suddenly, Thomas was on his back and an eager Lyle towered above him. Lyle hastily pulled down his own pants and Thomas began to flail and splutter,
"No, no, Lyle, stop!" he cried, "Don't do this! Lyle! I trusted you!" he said as Lyle spread apart his cheeks, "I loved you…" he said almost inaudibly. Thomas had resigned himself to the violation, powerless against Lyle's strength. But just before Lyle entered, a chilling scream echoed through the building.
"God dammit…" was all Lyle could say before crawling off of Thomas. The young knight lay motionless on the desk, eyes frozen and staring upward. Barnes fumbled quickly with his pants, but before he could pull them up, a guard burst through the door.
"Sir, Captain Asher has been murdered! He…" he said, and then saw Thomas laying on the desk with no clothes and Lyle with his trousers still around his knees. The guard stared speechless and Lyle yanked his pants up violently. But before the guard could say anything else, a sword blade appeared in his chest. Blood spurted everywhere and the man crumpled to the floor. A cloaked man replaced the guard's silhouette in the door, and the assassin entered the room. Lyle snarled and grabbed his sword, but the murderer was not looking at Lyle.
"Thomas?" Altair said, dumbfounded. He looked at Thomas, who was know lying on the desk, sobbing quietly and was wearing nothing, and then he looked at Lyle, who had no shirt and a pair of unbuttoned pants.
"You know this assassin?!" Lyle asked angrily. Deep, hateful anger welled up inside of Altair bared his teeth and charged, but Barnes was fast. He ducked to the side, out of reach of Altair's sword and crouched low to attack. He pounced at Altair, but the assassin dodged easily. He countered, smashing his sword's hilt into the knight's skull. Lyle crumpled to the ground, unconscious but alive. Altair flexed his left hand and he prepared to slit the man's throat. But as Altair leaned down to end Lyle, Thomas, who was now leaning against the desk, called out,
"No, Altair…" he said softly. Altair threw him a disbelieving look, and Thomas shook his head, "No. He wasn't always this… violent. And we cannot heal his violence with more violence. It will destroy you both."
"You would spare him? Even after he…?" Altair gestured hopelessly. Thomas nodded sadly, and more tears fell,
"He did nothing. He might have… but he might have stopped. He used to be good. He used to…" but Thomas could not finish. Altair looked down at Lyle with disgust and he whispered into his ear,
"You will live, but you will not escape unscathed." Lyle did not hear, but Altair slashed his blade across Lyle's face, ensuring that the knight would never forget his actions. A bright red streak, from the left corner of his mouth to his right eye, appeared on Lyle's face. Hurried footsteps filled the building, and Altair moved quickly.
"I'm getting you out of here," he said to Thomas, and the knight nodded.
"Yes… please, help me stand," he said, and Altair helped him rise. Thomas slung one arm over Altair's shoulders, and they left the battle scarred room together.
They attracted many glance and several curious questions, but Altair ignored them all. They reached the safe house that Altair had shown him before, and they entered the shade of the building gladly. Once inside, Thomas leaned against one wall, and he stared blankly at the floor. Altair did not know what to do; but some instinct, some long forgotten intuition told him to take Thomas's hand. Thomas flinched at the touch, and he looked forlornly into Altair's brown eyes. But Thomas could not contain himself any longer. He dove into Altair's arms, and the assassin held him close, for there was little else he could.
"I loved him, Altair…" he sobbed, "I gave myself to him… why? How could he do this…?" but Altair had no answer. He could only grip tightly to the wounded knight and whisper,
"I know. I know." Thomas buried his head in Altair's chest and cried until evening came. Altair carried the knight to the bed and as he turned away, Thomas's knight caught his wrist,
"Please… stay with me," he said in a voice rough with pain. Altair could not deny him. They shared the small caught, and they held one another close. Thomas finally fell asleep, nestled in Altair's chest, and the assassin could not bear to leave him.
When Thomas awoke, he felt worried when he found his limbs entangled with Altair's. But they were both fully clothed and Altair smiled down at him. But Thomas did not return the smile; he could not. Lyle Barnes was a changed man, and he needed to know why. But Altair's smile was too inviting, and Thomas returned it with a grin, despite himself. He joined the Templar Order to protect life, and now he was sharing secret smiles with an assassin, a murderer. Altair, as well, considered the situation. He was to work against the knights, and yet, here he was harboring a knight in his arms. But, for a small moment, despite the violence and death and horrors each had witnessed, and despite that to come, they felt happy because they were with each other. Impulsively, Altair brushed his lips over Thomas's forehead. Thomas recoiled slightly, and Altair realized that they both had a great amount of healing to do.
A/N: Well, that was a bit more harrowing than I had originally intended. Poor Tommy. And we all know that Lyle is gonna be BITTER. Revenge is bittersweet. Like chocolate chips. And what/who is Tom going to do next? Escape? Fight? Altair? I like the last one. Oh, and this is just for fun, but in your reviews, try and guess my gender! I'm conducting an experiment. I'll explain in the next A/N!