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Chapter 15
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"What about this one?" She carefully traces a pale line of healed flesh from his shoulder to his collarbone, "How did it happen?" The sunlight warms her back deliciously. It was one of those rare days where he does not need to leave in the early morn to train, and the rosy glow of the sun shines on their bare bodies as they lay side by side on the bed.
"Wound from a European sword. My first ever meeting with Robert De Sable. He escaped with almost no scratch."
"And this one?" Her gentle touch circles lazily around a scar at the base of his neck.
"From a sparring match with Malik. We were both young and too proud to admit defeat." Altair chuckles at the fond memory. His deep laughter sends tiny tremors through her body.
Her hand travels upwards, and settles on the familiar vertical line adorning his strong jaw line. "This one?"
He pauses for a minute. "From the battle in Alep. When I lost Adha."
She pauses in her intimate exploration. Her clear green eyes go up to meet with his. "Do you miss her?"
"Yes… and no. Her place in here cannot ever be replaced. But the wound is healed."
Jin smiles at his sincerity. Her gaze traverse across his nakedness unabashedly, a faint morning glow at her cheeks. The pale flesh line at his side, free of scarring, catches her attention. He follows her gaze.
"And that… is kismet." When she looks back at him with incomprehension, Altair gently cups her chin and explains, "You do not remember? You dressed this wound. This is what led me to fall into your room that night. Destiny."
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She finds herself bored. Hands idle and mind despairingly awake. Now that Yasmin is gone, her evenings are free.
And her horse can only run so far before she gets tired. There are only so many who are willing to spar with her. And there is only so much she can do to help in the infirmary.
Jin finds herself with too much free time. She cannot have such a luxury. To be able to sit, and let her mind wander like a winding, trailing road.
Because it will always lead to her back to one place. One final destination.
And she cannot afford to dwell there.
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Greetings comrade,
There has been a recent development. King Richard's nephew, Henry II has requested an alliance with our organization. I am more than willing to meet and negotiate with him.
However, I suspect something's amiss, and I would be more than grateful in your assistance in this matter. None here has my absolute trust other than yourself, and for this reason I ask you to cease your wandering and come back.
-M
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"Remind me why I travel with you again," huffs an indignant Maria. She sidesteps an incoming soldier, and kicks the attacker from the back, "Besides the excellent exercise."
Altair, right next to her, disarms another and deals a blow to the unfortunate soldier's head, while dodging an incoming arrow. "We would not have to go this way if you were able to climb the watchtower."
Maria viciously slashes at an attack coming from her right. Uses an injured man as a meat shield while she pushes into the incoming wave of guards. "So now this is my fault? If I recall, if you did not alert the guards to our presence we would have gotten in without a hitch!" She yells over the clang of metal.
"Dispatching them is inevitable," growls her companion. He defends, turns and hacks away at the guard behind him. "Better now than later."
"Is there not a more sophisticated approach that requires less hands-on contact? You are a master of your trade after all," Maria pants in exertion as she pulls her sword from the last remains of the guards. She is losing count of how many has fallen.
She turns momentarily to find him. Altair, in the midst of disarming a soldier, glances over. With a fling of his free wrist, he sends a dagger flying millimeters above her head to dig into the face of an unseen enemy behind her.
"Yes, and I save them for occasions such as this," he breathes out softly. He makes his way to her, stepping over a red sea of unmoving bodies. "Are you unhurt?"
"Just fine," she replies back, somewhat stiffly. Altair quietly chuckles to himself. In the months they have traveled together, he picked up her habits. Maria is terrible with apologies. Her features right now: a scrunch right between the brows, lips tightening, and the half-scowl tell him all he needs to know.
She marches off without another word. He follows close behind, murmuring under his breath, "You are welcome."
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Dearest Comrade,
I have recently discovered an off branch of Templars located in France, whose leader I promptly dispatched, and I shall set for Masyaf as soon as possible. I know my absence has deeply affected your withering heart.
-A
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He once told her maps are crucial tools. To have fancy flourishes or extraneous details will lower its efficiency and might even cause its reader to make fatal mistakes. Of course, she thought him to be over-exaggerating and taking his work a bit too seriously, but she soon learns that is just how Malik sees the world.
She admires his latest work; a city map of Acre complete with hidden passageways and sewage routes, before she rolls it up and gathers all the paperwork in her arms. Making her way through the all too familiar halls of the grand library, she locates the archive.
It is late noon, when even the guards are resting or having their midday meal, so she has the entire library to herself. Jin hums a whimsical tune as she files the maps into their respective places. As she finishes the last one, she cheerfully turns, walks out of the aisle, and runs right into Malik.
"Oh! I did not hear you!" Jin gasps out.
"Safety and peace, Jin," he replies sardonically, "Although with all the noise you make you deprive me of the latter."
She answers with a guilty grin. "Sorry, are you working?"
"Was." He levels a disapproving glare. One she knows too well and no longer minds.
"Well you usually work at your office, there is no need for the Master to assume his duties in a dusty, cramped library… is there?"
Malik closes his eyes. He cannot tell her the reason he is here. That this is the only spot where he can focus. For whenever Jin and her smile waltz into his office, his concentration evaporates.
"I will not have you questioning me or my methods. I should be asking you the same. What are you doing here?"
"Putting away your maps. The latest one looks wonderful by the way," she replies with a quirk of her mouth. She knows how upset it makes him when she goes through his possessions. Perhaps she does it purposely.
Malik exhales loudly. Paces a few steps away from her, but then comes back. The usual obsidian eyes are shadowed, and its inner depths hidden. His face, uncharacteristically contorting with irk and frustration, draws her curiosity.
"What troubles you now?" Jin asks teasingly. He silences her chuckle with a dark look.
"Many things," he answers enigmatically. She does not realize how close he is until his form begins to block off the light from the windows. She takes a small step back, but finds herself already leaning into a shelf of books.
"Malik?" She questions him innocently.
He watches her forest eyes, free of fear or apprehension. Such simple trust, shining with purity. It almost pains him to see her like this.
"You," he exhales softly, "It is all because of you."
"Pardon?"
Malik grits his teeth. Any older, more sophisticated woman would know exactly what he is talking about. But then again, this is also what makes her so appealing.
"The treasures that your mind hides," he murmurs, and lightly taps the base of her forehead, "and the secrets deeply buried here," his hand moves to point to the left side of her chest, "they all bother me."
She glances up at him, finally meeting the gaze she is hoping to avoid. Malik is looking at her intently. Gauging and measuring her reaction to the slightest movement.
"How so?" Jin breathes. She gulps slowly as he draws even closer, his arm bracing his tall form against the bookshelf. He has never been so close before. Her breaths are stopped short by his hard chest. The growing stubble along his angular jaw. Pale lines of past battles criss-crossing his face and neck. She can see them all.
The second his lips almost meets hers, she turns slightly to the right, and her cheek brushes against his in greeting.
The golden afternoon rays enters quietly through the dirty windows and the dusty air. The library is hushed silence, muffling all sounds. And yet Malik's sharp words are unmistakably clear, slicing through the air.
"Do not toy with me, siren. Just tell me one thing," he rasps against her ear, "will they be forever unattainable to me?"
Jin sighs. She turns to gaze back at him.
He keeps on looking ahead. Fierce and concentrated. As if he is in the midst of battle.
It has been five years. Five years of loneliness and losing hope.
The man in front of her… he is not him. Cannot and will never be him.
But he is here with her. His breath in her ear. His body heat that she feels. And his scent, of ancient maps and fragrant ink, comforts her in their familiarity.
Jin opens her mouth to speak.
"Master Malik! He has returned! The Grand Master has returned!" An excited voice calls from the library's entrance.
Malik stiffens. A dark look passes through his features and then the mask of composure slips back on. He straightens.
"My behavior was out of line. My apologies," he says coolly. He turns and disappear down the hall of books to his office.
Jin does not hear or see him leave. There are only three words playing through her head: He has returned.
Even after the years, her heart still stops at the mention of him. She closes her eyes. Allows herself to relive the memories. Of his dark, haunting face. His touches. And those golden, piercing eyes.
She pushes off the bookcase violently. Races out of the library, through the staircases and hallways, weaving through people haphazardly and with rushed apologies. At the edge of the landing, she pulls herself into a stop. Gasping for breath, blood pounding in her chest, Jin searches wildly with her eyes.
And then she sees him.
In his white robe, dusty and worn from travel, there stands Altair. Despite his grime-covered clothes, he walks like a king returning from battle, his pale imperial robes swishing behind him. And his followers flock behind him, in awe of his imposing aura and hanging onto his every word. He is surrounded by many, barraging him with questions and welcoming him all at once.
Despite the clamor and noise, his eyes find hers instantly. The world around melts away. All is suddenly quiet. Amber and green, spinning in and out of control with each other. Jin finds she cannot tear herself away. Her body is frozen to the spot.
After what seems like an eternity, he releases her. He turns, follows an escort up into Malik's office. As if nothing happened.
She is drained. Slowly sinks to the ground because her legs no longer have the capability to hold her shaking body. Jin clutches at her chest. All of her breath is sucked out. The strong, undulating ache is so unrelenting it might as well be killing her from the inside.
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Jin cannot sit still. She rushes through her evening stroll, going at twice her regular pace. Her mind is racing as she climbs the staircase to her room, and as she pushes against the wooden door, Jin takes a deep breath.
Nobody. Her viridian gaze scans the room carefully. There are no traces that anyone has entered the room.
She goes to her bed. Sits down gingerly, and waits. But then she stands, impatience in her movement, and begins to pace. First to the window, where she watches the last vestiges of sunlight graze the mountainside, and then to the edge of the bed. She falls into the thin mattress, and stares at the grains in the ceiling.
Where is he? Surely he is done reporting back to Malik by now…
Jin decides that staying in the room is foolish. All she has been doing is wait, so why is a few hours such unbearable torture? With deliberate steps, she walks back to the Garden, intent on visiting her favorite tree. The moment she nears the familiar spot, she senses it. Something is different.
A stillness of the air. The deathly quiet of tension emanating from within the dense branches.
"Welcome back," she breathes out.
"Safety and peace," a reluctant pause, "Jin."
She takes her usual spot at the base of the trunk. Does not bother looking for him within the leafy foliage. He will show himself if only he wants to.
"It has been a long time."
"Yes." His voice is just as she remembers. Rich, deep, and with an underlying tinge of danger.
"I wrote to you. I never received answers."
"I read them all," he replies coolly, "I did not deem it necessary to write unless it is important business."
"Did you manage… to help your friend?" The words are so hard to say, but they come out anyways. Jin closes her eyes. Truthfully, she does not wish to know.
"Yes… and no." His tone sounds regretful, and she wonders why.
"Why…" she takes a deep breath, "Do you not show yourself to me?"
The treetop is quiet for such a long time that she almost abandons the issue. But then, a slight rustle and a soft thud on the other side of the tree signals his landing. "Because I lack courage."
Jin cannot help it. She laughs. It is such an absurd concept. Him, Master Assassin, the dealer of death and skilled warrior, is afraid?
"Of me?" she asks incredulously.
"Yes," he answers simply. "I do not know how to face you, after all these years."
His words strike her speechless. She does not know how to even respond to that kind of comment. She hears him exhale loudly. "Time moves like a river, and only in one direction. Things that used to be one way, may not be the same with time's passing."
"Perhaps you are right," Jin sadly murmurs, "Some things do change." She despairingly thinks of the distance that has grown between them. Of what he has learned and seen during his travels that slowly transformed him into the stranger she is talking to.
"Indeed. It is selfish and irrational of me to assume that I can reappear in everyone's lives as if nothing has happened. I believe some things lost in the river… will never be recovered again."
"I believe so…" Jin echoes back hollowly. The dull ache is blossoming into a painful hitch. Her breathing is turning shallow and erratic. "Are you staying long?"
"It depends. I was called back for an investigation at Acre."
She shuts her eyes painfully. He came back for a mission. Not for her. It is so foolish of her to expect such a man, a man bound by duty, to return back just for her.
Altair's deep voice comes from in front of her now. "Life in Masyaf has treated you well."
Jin nods slowly, not daring to open her eyes yet. For fear he might dissolve like a dream. As if reading her thoughts, he chuckles and murmurs, "You can open them. I am real."
Jin slowly opens her eyes. And true to his word, there he stands. Proud, towering, and a dangerous weapon of a man. He is no longer wearing his assassin's robe, but a sleeveless tunic. He is just as she remembers. The angular face, the eagle-like stare making her pulse quicken, and the powerful aura. The only thing different are the scars. He has a few more than she can recall, and with a twinge of her heart, she wonders how many more he has that she cannot see.
She has changed. So much that he can hardly recognize her. Long, wavy strands of blonde hair draping down past her shoulders. Her face has lengthened, forming a pleasant oval. Her features have a sense of maturity to them. And the only thing he distinctly remembers, and is still the same, are her wide, guileless eyes. The same pair of forest green that haunts his dream, disappearing like smoke when he awakens.
They stand there. Peering through the late twilight and lengthening shadows and into another world. Jin blinks back the tightness of her throat, and swallows the tears.
He is not the same. She stayed still, while he moves on. The unfairness is clawing at her.
Altair exhales slowly. "You should go and rest. Take my room, it will be yours from this day on."
"And where will you sleep?" she asks tightly. He regards her silently.
She does not move as he brings himself closer. His face, shadowed and devoid of emotion, draws near. Jin closes her eyes. Altair leans in, and with deliberate motions, brushes her soft hair away from her face. He bestows a lingering kiss on her forehead. Similar to how a parent would embrace their children.
And then he is gone.
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Malik finds him in the library again, with books strewn around his vicinity. Third day in a row. Eyebrows twitching with annoyance, the elder Dai coughs.
"Greetings brother," Altair acknowledges him with a nod. Malik waits. When it is clear that Altair is not going to ask him the reason for the intrusion, Malik decides to jump to the point.
"Your mission." He deadpans.
"Yes."
"Leaving immediately?"
"As you wish."
"Your investigation target is-"
"Henry II, the nephew of King Richard. He is requesting an alliance with the Brotherhood. I am to go and investigate his motivations for doing so."
"… I see you have done your research," Malik begrudgingly concedes. Altair chuckles. Shuts the book he is holding, and regards his comrade.
"I hear you put on quite a display for him when he visited Masyaf."
Malik shrugs. "The usual procedure. Two of our trainees performed leaps of faith, and he was convinced of our competency. And before I forget, I would like to add a trainee to your one-man traveling team. We are under-manned at Acre, and I believe we can use all the eyes and ears we can get."
"Of course. I hope for his sake that he rides fast, for I wait for no one ."
Malik smirks. "Indeed, I feel sorry for the poor soul already".
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There was something wrong with Malik's smirk. It was more twisted and grim than his usual sarcasm. Altair does not dwell long on it. Until the moment he arrives at the stables and sees Jin dressed in the loose grey trainee gear and waiting by her horse.
He curses under his breath.
She looks as if she wants to bolt as soon as she catches sight of him. If not for the reins she is holding onto, he bets she would have.
"…This is unexpected," he says after a long pause.
"You are not the only one who was played," Jin scoffs, "My first mission outside of Masyaf and my escort just happens to be you."
His amber gaze narrows. "Is there a problem with that?"
Jin stops. Lowering her gaze, with her hands playing with the leather reins, she answers, "No, Master Altair."
"If you are ready, then we shall depart. It will be a three day ride to Acre," Altair briskly says as he saddles up. Once all is in place, he pulls himself up with much practiced ease, and without a backwards glance, makes his way out of the stable.
Jin watches wryly. "A very long three days indeed."
Notes: Wow... it's been so long since I updated. Apologies, but life has been crazy busy. I lack inspiration... there needs to be so much research done regarding France, Jin's heritage, historical events, Altair's codex...
1) The first scene's obviously a flashback. I don't know why, the randomest thing triggered the idea. And with the distance that grew btw the two characters, I think it makes it very bittersweet.
2) Malik... is so hard to imagine seducing/chasing after a girl. In his own sarcastic, awkward way. And as much as I adore him, I cannot imagine him not being one bit jealous/bitter that Altair's back and is complicating things.
3) Henry the II did visit Masyaf apparently, seeking an alliance. And the Hashshashin did give him a show, making 2 of their followers jump off of towers as a display of their dedication. As for his motive... that might just be revealed next chap.
4) I also miss writing plots. All this romance drama is taking its toll on me, but it's just so much work researching... Argh! More plot stuff next chap, I promise. Just don't expect a fast update.