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Chapter 16
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Greetings friend,
How is the Acre treating you? I hope that as a married woman, you do not forget the friends you still have back home. A familiar face may be coming in the next few days, so feel free to make a shopping expedition in the near future.
-M
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Jin decides right away that she does not like Acre. It is too cold, too unwelcoming with its European buildings and gray fog. Templars and soldiers frequent all corners, and walking outside for a couple of minutes puts a tenuous strain on everyone's nerves.
But what is even chillier is Altair. He says few words to her. He looks off often into the distance. And the few polite conversations they do engage in are purely business.
The sole comfort she has are the brief and short visits from Yasmin. The first time the other girl arrived at the Rafiq's door, Jin almost cried tears of joy. To see a familiar, loving face in a land surrounded by strangers and coldness was like a refreshing drink after a drought.
As the two sit in the Bureau's conservatory, reclining within its lush carpets and sharing a bowl of dates, Yasmin recounts her experiences. She was married to a merchant who is suspected of selling more than pots. In fact, he is a double agent providing intelligence to the Templars. As a merchant, he is seldom home, Yasmin was granted freedom among the household. She is able to hand-pick her servants, and she will always conveniently send them away for errands while she pays the Bureau a visit.
When asked about her pseudo marriage, Yasmin just laughs softly and waves a hand dismissively. "It could have been better but it also could have been much worse," she comments lightly, and then changes the topic. But Jin can see traces of healing bruises under her shawl, and can only painfully wonder how many more she hides under clothing and false pretenses.
So she does not feel guilty when she refuses to disclose anything about Altair. Yasmin begged, cajoled, used every possible method of persuasion short of threatening her life. But she remains silent. It seemed like her friend had her own set of troubles to deal with, and as much as she wants to, Jin just does not have the heart to add one more.
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Dear Friend from Home,
It was a pleasant surprise indeed. I did not expect to see our mutual friend so soon. Especially with that kind of company in tow. (What exactly were you thinking?)
Hardly two words pass between the two. I have not the faintest clue to what has transpired in my absence. She is adamantly silent, and I can only seek your advice on this matter. Please do, for I can tell she is suffering and much thinner from when I saw her last.
-Y
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He looks anxious. No, on edge is a more apt description.
Altair does not stop pacing. He fingers his sword at his hip, sheathes and unsheathes his hidden blade.
"Who are we waiting for?" Jin calls out from behind the counter. She ducks under to retrieve a list of inventory. The Bureau seems to be running low on ink and feathered pens again. Perhaps on her next shopping trip she can also pick up some sugar and nightshade to replenish her own supply.
"My informant," he answers tersely. It seems wise not to pry any further, and so she says no more.
A few more minutes passes, and then a lithe shadow appears by the door frame. The woman pulls down her hood slowly. Jin does not recognize her, but is surprised to see a Western foreigner at the Bureau.
"Maria…" Relief obviously paints his voice as Altair makes his way over to her, and all of a sudden Jin realizes who this woman is. She is the one. The reason why he left Masyaf five years ago and why he is acting so distant now.
All because of her.
She clenches her fists. Averts her gaze as if looking upon a lovers' reunion. But she cannot close her ears.
"Why did you not send George? Especially since-"
"Security has been tighter than usual," Maria tersely cuts him off. "The Count of Champagne is preparing for something. The scullery maids, my people, tells me that there will be important guests coming in from overseas tomorrow. Seems like it will be worth investigating."
"Leave it to me. Go home, and stay safe. You have done much already," he says, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
"You know it will be near impossible for you to infiltrate that fortress. His soldiers are already warned of the Assassins, and they will kill you on sight. That, and your organization has already made an alliance with Henry II. If he catches you in his castle, you might as well have sealed Masyaf's fate."
Altair sighs. "I have no other choice. Malik is convinced there is treachery going on, and I trust his good judgment." With a pointed look at her midriff, he adds "And it is better to risk one life than two."
Maria opens her mouth to protest, but was swiftly interrupted by Jin.
"I will do it."
Both heads turn in surprise. For the first time, Maria takes note of the other woman in the room. Her sharp gaze scans Jin carefully, and then looks back to Altair questioningly.
"Who is she?"
"A dear friend and a valuable comrade. Maria, this is Jinan, I believe I have spoken of her to you."
Jin hides her surprise at his words. She did not think he would be speaking of her… especially to this woman.
"Ah, the orphan. I am Maria Thrope, ex-Templar and now an ally of the Brotherhood," she declares as she extends a hand. Jin pauses only for a moment, but years of impersonating a man kick in, and she grips the woman's hand in a firm handshake.
"A pleasure to meet you."
"So tell us, how exactly do you plan to infiltrate the hold?" Maria's tone is all business, with no trace of patronization or a mocking voice. Jin sees that she has the older woman's entire attention, and she straightens up unconsciously under that severe gaze.
"If they are in preparation for guests, I am sure they are in need of an extra hand. Nobody will recognize me if I am hired, and I can gather the necessary information while I work."
Maria nods. "A sound plan. My informants can help-"
"No." Says Altair with a blood-chilling tone. Both of the women turn to look at him.
The brim of his hood shadows most of his face, but the firm line of his mouth leaves no room for argument.
"No," he harshly repeats, his amber eyes locking onto Jin. Maria regards him for a silent minute.
"Why not?" Maria insists, "She is right, she is the only one with the least likelihood of being discovered. If she has been training within the Assassin ranks, she is more than capable of recon missions. You yourself have praised her abilities when you two infiltrated King Richard's camp."
Altair stays silent. Jin lifts her eyes to meet his, and after an agonizing moment, he tears his gaze away.
"Do as you will." Comes his terse answer. He turns briskly, and leaves through the open door.
"Well that was a first," Maria remarks offhandedly. She turns and looks at Jin with a new, contemplative look. Jin returns her gaze staunchly.
The older woman finally breaks the tense silence. "Are you willing to go through with it? He does not say it, but there will be plenty of risks involved,"
Jin nods firmly. "I will do it."
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Dear Friend,
I do not suppose the phrase minding one's own business has any meaning to you. Ironically, I am in the same boat as you and uncertain about their behavior. Regardless, I am certain your presence, as opposed to mine, will alleviate her misery.
-M
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The Count of Champagne was not a patient man. He was young, ambitious, and had many plans that have yet to come to fruition, but he is serious in seeing all of them through.
"My lord, the new cutlery you ordered have just arrived," his aide reads off of long list tediously. Henry II drums his fingers as the other man drones on. A servant places a cup of steaming, fragrant tea in front of him, and he waves her away.
Food, wine, finery… it was so frivolous and unnecessary. He sips at the tea slowly. Watching the contents of the cup swirl.
"James, just skip to the important matters. Are there extra archers and guards like I asked?" He demands as he sets the cup down.
"Yes my lord. There are twenty more archers posted, ten more watchmen, all with overlapping shifts like you ordered, and then there's fifteen or so good able-bodied men…"
"Then we're all good. Has the preparations been completed?" Henry II lowered his voice. His aide, a high-strung fellow, leans in and asks, "Which ones?"
"The meeting room of course!" He hisses in return. Incompetence is like a plague these days. He takes another sip to calm his nerves. "We have to make sure the servants do not come close to that area, and the guards are hand-picked. Who knows what kind of spies can be lurking in the corners."
The aide stops for a minute, and then leans back in, whispering "But my lord, I thought we were only to discuss this later, in private."
The Count clears his throat. "Right, I forgot about that. But aren't we alone anyways?"
His aide pointedly looks behind him, and the older man almost curses as he catches sight of the servant who served him tea.
He beckons towards the servant to come, and she obliges. "How much of that did you hear?" He demands in English. She does not answer, not until the aide hurriedly translated.
"I beg your pardon sir, I do not understand the tongue," she replies softly in Arabic. He examines her closely. The girl seems to be young, face half-covered with dirty brown hair, but blessed with fair skin. Her eyes are demure and downcast.
"I do not recall seeing you here before," he murmurs quietly. One hand goes to tip her chin up, so that he can have a better look. She returns his gaze shyly beneath lashes, and then quickly averts her eyes.
"Pardon me my lord, but we have hired some extra hands recently," his aide cuts in.
"Where does she work?" Henry II has to wait again, until question is translated.
"In the kitchen and sometimes cleaning the hallways my lord."
"With a pretty face like yours?" he murmurs in contemplation. He keeps his eyes on her features, turning slightly to address to his aide. "Make sure she is one of the servers. With an exotic face like hers, she should be entertaining guests and not scrubbing dishes."
"Uh… yes sir."
She trembles slightly. He realizes he has kept his hand cupped to the underside of her chin the entire time. He releases her. The spell broken. He ashamedly reminds himself he is now a married man.
But he cannot help but let his eyes wander, and follow the servant girl as she withdraws to the shadows.
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It was not hard getting inside. The scullery maids Maria knows helped vouched for her and she was in.
It was finding the time to explore the hold that was hard.
Between washing dishes, running to the markets, and disposing garbage, Jin almost has no time to breath. Her lucky break came when a servant fell ill and she was ordered to clean the halls. She makes a mental map while she mops the corridors, and listens discretely as she wipes dust from metal suits of armor and the gilded frames hanging from the walls. When she returns to the Bureau (after taking many fake turns and backtracking from being followed), she sketches out the blueprint on paper from memory.
Altair's expression grows darker and darker with each passing day. She thought he would lighten up as the mission was going well, but the opposite seems to be happening.
After the encounter with the Count, she now knows her truth serum produces results. She has dyed her hair a light brown to stay inconspicuous, and tried her best to fake ignorance as the two Englishmen examined her like a piece of meat. But she cannot help but tremble with indignation as she sees the lust in Henry II's eyes. And afterward, she hopes he will soon meet a swift, painful death.
The only good thing resulting from that incident is her being able to access the banquet room. They gave her a new uniform, demanded a cleaner appearance, and assigned a veteran server to train her.
Altair grudgingly admits to it too. Although his ominous mood does not change a bit. The plan they devised was to sneak into the meeting room after the guests have finished with their meal. Jin can slip away as the other servants clear the plates and eavesdrop on the meeting while avoiding capture.
The fateful day soon approaches. Jin watches as white sails gather in the harbor, and knows that today will be the day when all the planning will be put to the test.
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She is not supposed to be there.
Altair watches with clenched jaws as Jin inches closer to the wooden doors leading to the meeting room. He himself is safely tucked away in the shadows. But not her. No, she is brazenly ignoring the first tenet of the Creed, risking her safety, and compromising the mission by deviating from the plan.
Why? What is she doing?
His mouth utters a stream of curses as he watches her step ever closer to danger. His mind goes into overload. Thousands of possible scenarios racing through his head but all of them preventing him from interfering.
Jin stops a few yards away from the door. She looks to be in thought… and after a brief second of debate, she resolutely palms a brick in front of her. To Altair's surprise, a section of the wall disappears, revealing a secret passageway. He curses as her slight form disappears into the dark tunnel, and he debates whether he should follow or not.
Thankfully, the decision was made for him.
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It was Templars! Henry II is collaborating with their leader on infiltrating the Assassin's stronghold. However, he is withholding Masyaf's exact location until he gets what he wants: more gold.
Jin congratulates herself on the triumphant discovery as she makes her way back out the secret passageway. The truth serum has more uses than previously thought. Slipping into other servants' drinks and food has produced many interesting information. Some told her scandalous stories and juicy gossip, and others have shared secrets like the hidden passageway.
She pulls the holder of a burning lamp like a lever, and the wall slides open. Blinking against the sudden discrepancy of light she steps out right as the patrolling guards round the corner.
"Hey! You are not allowed here!" A gruff voice yells as the sounds of heavy armor approach from both sides. Trapped, Jin can only feint innocence as best she could.
"Forgive me sir, I was merely lost. I am new."
"A servant girl? But dinner was over and done with an hour ago. Lies! What we have here is a spy!"
Jin protests, but a metal gauntlet slams into her head. Pain, smart and sharp, explodes in her vision. She drops down, and attempts to roll out of the way. Vision blurry, she isn't sure if there are four guards or two.
She blinks. Tries to clear her head and ignores the throbbing wound. She chances a look up.
There is nobody left standing.
"What…?" She tries to get up, but stumbles. Steady hands suddenly lift her, and she finds herself looking into the glowing eyes of an eagle.
"Idiot," he softly scolds her. With the back of his right hand, he wipes at the dripping wound at her temple. Jin notes with surprise that his hand is trembling.
"Why… are you here?" she dazedly asks. She wonders if it is the blow to the head, or just his overpowering proximity that is making her light-headed.
"I decided to follow you. To prevent you from doing something truly … idiotic," he sighs. His hold tightens around her. "We are going back. And this mission is over."
Jin's eyes widen at his order, but refuses to stay silent. "I heard something important in there."
"Save it, now is not the time" he snaps, effectively shutting her up. She stays quiet for the entire trip. And when he finally sets her down on her feet again on the tiled floor of the conservatory, she cannot bear it any longer.
"Are you mad?"
A shift of weight. A sharp intake of breath. "Furious."
Jin walks up to his hooded figure cautiously. It is already dark, and pale moonlight does nothing to illuminate his features, in fact, it succeeds in shrouding it even more. She slowly reaches up to pull down his hood.
Altair's face looks more weary than she remembers. Lines are engraved within his sharp, eagle-like features. His eyes are shadowed with doubt and a rare hint of vulnerability. He is no longer the imposing Master Assassin, the young, defiant man who she first encountered. No, this is a man who has seen the world's trouble and has taken humanity's heavy burden.
"Forgive me," she murmurs, "… and thank you. For saving me once more."
Without warning, his strong arms come to wrap around her frame. Tightly, with almost a violent passion. He buries his face within her hair. His words, whispered roughly and almost incoherent against her skin, stops her heartbeat.
"I cannot lose you."
Her lips, hesitantly and with much trepidation, finds its way to his. His body stills. And then, oh, so deliciously, he responds. She can feel it. The heat, the fire. A flame that swells upwards, rising from dying embers and burning away the years of loneliness.
So intense it is, it overshadows the pain and anguish, and replaces it with a delicious flicker of a familiar ache. Desire coursing through her veins, Jin clutches at his robes, trying to hold on to the vestiges of reality.
He pulls away suddenly. Breathing a bit harder than normal, but his face immaculately carved in composure. "We cannot continue."
She does not even try to hide the hurt and disappointment in her voice. "Is it because of Maria?"
"Yes… and no. Things are not-"
"…the same, but tell me, does this not feel the same?" Jin urgently pulls him down for another heady kiss. He responds instantly. Almost as if he missed the warmth of her body as much as she for him.
"Can we not go back to how things were?"
"And how were things back then?"
"It was…" she pauses, coherency being difficult at that moment, "much simpler."
A humorless chuckle. "But it is not much different from now. No titles, no formal claims. Tell me, precious Jin, what is different back then?"
Now she stops. Fully concentrates, and searches his amber gaze slowly.
He is right. As always. He never promised her anything. He gave her life, his time, and a new home. His life is bound by duty, to the Brotherhood and countless of lives he feels responsible for. He can never belong to one person. She finally realizes.
"Then let me ask you this: what does the man Altair want? I do not want to hear from the Assassin, the leader, or the philosopher. I just want you… to tell me exactly what I am to you."
He takes a slow breath. Steps back, and immediately she feels the loss of warmth.
"I cannot," he answers simply. "For who I am and what I do are intertwined like strings of fate. Forever binding me to others, and at the same time to no one. The moment I let someone close, they automatically become a weakness. There is a possibility that I might let my own selfishness transcend others' needs."
Jin turns around painfully. She cannot bear to let him see the tears threatening to spill over. "You have been selfish anyways," she hoarsely chokes out. He does not disagree.
"Are you scared?" His voice is close, breath tickling her ear.
"No," she answers back in a soft murmur.
Altair reaches out a tentative hand. She lets him slowly turn her around.
His hands lift from her face. "Then open your eyes."
She does. And gasps in wonderment.
The sky is stretching on endlessly. The horizon far off, grazing mountaintops. The clouds seem so near, close enough to touch, and an eagle's cry pierces through the air. A light breeze caresses her face, and the ground is dizzyingly far below. Fear stabs through her then. A blinding, paralyzing fear.
"Look at me."
She does. The same pair of molten amber gazes imperiously back at her. Just as when he tackles her to the ground in their first meeting. When he rescued her from countless sticky situations. In gratitude, in sickness, and most memorable of all, when they first came together. That penetrating, deep look that cuts to the bone, demanding nothing short of truth.
Altair grips her elbow as she almost takes a step back. "Steady." He slowly maneuvers to the end of the beam they both stand on.
"I'll go first. Look closely and learn."
She saw the question there. Asking for acceptance and forgiveness and … something else. More than she can provide and more than he deserves.
"Wait," she hates the sound of panic in her voice, "How will I know it will break the fall? That I will be fine?"
He leans back. Tawny amber steadfast on viridian green.
"That is why it is a leap of faith." And he flies.
And she jumps.
Notes: Sorry for the wait you guys. School's been busy, and it was only when I got sick for a week that I had the motivation to put something down on virtual paper.
Apparently fermenting sugar can give you ethanol, Scopolamine from nightshade, and bunches of other stuff all can make a drug that is somewhat like a truth serum. Unethical to use... but hey, who's to stop Jin?
I seriously doubt I can have a chapter where I don't somehow include Malik. Can't miss out on the sarcasm. -_-
I hope the last scene where it goes back and forth between present and past doesn't confuse alot of people. I like writing drabbles about the past times they might have shared with each other, and somehow the leap of faith seemed to be relevant to what he's asking.
Thank you for all the reviews! It's very encouraging and it does push me to see this fic through. There are some key events that need to happen, and to connect them all together coherently will take some work and a lot of inspiration. It'll be tough, but seriously, it'll be an epic journey.