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Chapter 19
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Yasmin Sal Dijn, wife of Jamal Sal Dijn, marches through the dreary streets of Acre with fury in her steps. When the Assassin's Bureau comes into view, she has the notion to storms in through the front door with not a care for followers or potential spies. And cause a ruckus loud enough so that the guards on the utmost tower of the Templar's Hold can hear her.
Fortunately, years of training usurps that notion and she finds herself sneaking in as usual through the courtyard.
"You!" she yells at the familiar figures of Master Assassin and Rafiq. Both men look up immediately at the uncharacteristically forceful sound of her voice. "Why are you here?"
"I beg your pardon?" Altair calmly turns to face her. She is like a wildfire, eyes blazing and teeth flashing.
"Why are you in Acre of all places? Is it because of that Templar woman? Just how important is she that you would leave Jin all by herself? She is carrying your child!" The Rafiq makes an odd choking sound in the background, and quickly excuses himself from the conversation.
Altair closes his eyes. Breathes in deeply. "I have a previous arrangement I need to see to. Once I am done here, I will immediately head back to Masyaf. I have already told Jin of this."
"Just what are you playing at?" Yasmin hisses. She realizes she is making a scene in front of one of the most important and revered individual in their Brotherhood. But anger fuels her on. "Exactly where does your loyalties lie?"
"With the people. As it has always been. I have made a promise and I intend to keep it." He almost cringes at the frailty of the words. Such a useless, flimsy shield against Yasmin's furious verbal assault.
"Then start with the person, no, soon to be two people who are most important to you! Have you no sense of duty as a father?"
Deadly amber flashes in anger at her words. Altair whips around to tower over the shorter woman. "Yasmin Sal Dijn, do not dare challenge me in matters of honor and duty. In this organization, we are all bound by its unyielding strings. Do not assume you know all there is to the phrase "duty" just because you have married a man for our cause. Men lay down for their lives for us everyday, and it is only right that I acknowledge their sacrifice with sacrifices of my own. Kaddar knew what it means to put others before himself, as well as his older brother."
Yasmin seems to deflate at his cruel words. She hangs her head, her gaze refusing to meet his. Thinking the conversation over, Altair makes his way in the direction of the Rafiq.
"She loves you. Does that mean nothing to you?" Her words, quiet and hushed as they are, reach him like a blow.
Altair stops. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His hands ball into tight, painful fists.
"More than it should."
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The skies are clear the day his first born comes into the world. The midwife and another girl servant shooed him out of the room once the labor pains began. They should have known better.
At the first cry of the infant, Altair swings himself into the room by the open window. Ignoring the indignant outcries from the women, he makes his way over to Maria. The babe is a tiny little thing, and after cleaning him, the midwife hands him over to the mother with a disapproving look at the new father.
"Say hello to your father," Maria murmurs. The child who was crying a moment ago, quiets instantly in his mother's arms. Altair gingerly brushes his finger against the pink skin of the newborn, and marvels at the miracle.
"Have you decided on a name yet?" he asks as he gazes down in quiet wonder. Maria smiles.
"Gawain. It means hawk of battle. An appropriate name, considering his parentage and how much struggle he put up coming into this world."
"A fine name. For a fine warrior," Altair confirms proudly. The soft look Maria has while gazing upon their child has him wishing he does not have to speak his next words.
"When he is of age, I will take him to Masyaf, where he will stay and be trained in our ways-" Altair pauses midway at the expression in Maria's face.
She looks up aghast. Maria pulls away from him. "Y-you cannot! How dare you separate a mother from her child!"
"But it is the assassin's tradition. I, myself, was taken from my parents at an early age for training."
"I will sooner take a blade to his throat than have another child of mine taken from me," she says with fierce conviction as she clutches the babe closer. The assassin almost flinches. She is a violent, passionate woman. That is part of her charm and the allure. And with a threat like that, he undoubtedly believes her.
Altair holds up his palms, a calming gesture. The newborn begins to cry.
"We will discuss this later. Please, rest and be at peace."
He feels out of place here. With Maria's eyes glaring accusingly at him, and a son that he does not have a claim to.
On the way back, his mind full of confusion and scenarios, Altair almost misses the messenger bird perched near the pigeon's coop. The red band on the bird's leg tells him it is a message of high priority. He immediately extracts the rolled-up slip of paper and reads.
Malik's handwriting, always so formal and neat, is slanted with panicked haste:
Your presence is required back here. This is urgent.
-M
He crushes the note instantly. The fact Malik did not even bother writing in code means he has no time to waste. He will ride for Masyaf that night.
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Malik will not speak to him. Only points him to the infirmary and remains standing stiffly by the large paned window in his office. Altair comes across the head physician, a man named Shafiq, and nods in greeting.
"You must be here to see Jinan," the elderly man says.
A chill runs down his spine at the man's words. "Yes… I am. Tell me, what happened?"
"She… suffered a miscarriage a week ago. Most likely due to too much stress and malnourishment. And three nights before, she has attempted to poison herself. We have stabilized her condition, but have not found a working antidote for the poi-" Altair does not even bother hearing the rest. He tears through the infirmary, eyes scouring each bed until he stops in front of one.
He can hardly believe that the small, still form he finds in the farthest corner belongs to Jin. Her hair splays out like withered flowers on the pillow. Her face, so ghostly pale she might as well have been a specter of death, is disturbingly void of expression. One of her arm lies on top of the blanket, and with growing horror he sees blue veins crawling over a skeletal joints. Her hand rests on her stomach. A very flat stomach.
"What… is this…" He exclaims.
Master Shafiq comes to stand next to him. "She stirs from her sleep once in awhile. While she is awake, she refuses to eat and will not listen to any one. At this rate, I fear..." The old physician trails off emotionally. With a comforting pat on the Master Assassin's shoulder, the older man leaves the room wordlessly.
Altair stands frozen. He cannot see it. A life without one of the most stable aspect of his life. To never see Jin smile again, or laugh, or cry, or get angry and blush that beautiful rosy color of hers. He cannot imagine. She was always there. Waiting for him, and now to see her like this...
And so Altair does something he has never done before. He takes out the Apple of Eden from the pouch that is always on him. Places the golden artifact in Jin's hand, and then covers it with his own. Altair leans over. He fervently places a silent prayer, a sincerely selfish wish against the odds, and entreats upon the Apple to make it happen.
Hot, golden light shimmers from the Piece of Eden. It grows, expands, until it bathes the entire room in its soothing glow.
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Jin awakens to the scent of bathing oils and the melodic trickling of water. The air is filled with steam, and her half lidded eyes register blurry patches of cream and peach. She recognizes the ivory and abalone inlays on the tiles, the same ones in Yasmin's private bath.
Ah, another dream. She has been having many of those recently. While drifting in and out of consciousness, she finds herself living other lives. Some wonderful, and some gruesome. But all infinitely better than her own miserable reality.
Warm bathwater envelops her in a soothing embrace. Her entire body feels light. A gentle cloth glides over her, lovingly washing her skin. A splash of water, and she utters a sound of contentment. Leans back, but instead of meeting the cool tiles of the edge, makes contact with an arm.
"Who?" she murmurs drowsily.
The person does not answer. But continues to wash her. The warmth of the water is so relaxing, and she is not going to protest. The washcloth starts from her neck, travels down a shoulder, envelops her atrophied arm, and massages her thin hands. Carefully, it wraps around one finger, stroking each digit in a tender manner, taking its time, before moving onto the next.
"Yasmin?" Jin ventures a guess.
"No." A deeper, more masculine voice answers. It sounds so far away. Does not register in her head and Jin finds herself not really caring or alarmed.
"Oh. What are you doing then?" She smiles into the thick steam. A quiet chuckle answers her.
The washcloth makes its journey to her back. And a hand steadies her by the stomach, and the cloth begins to make lazy circles on her backside, mindful of her scars. She can feel her body relaxing. The tension loosening. The negative thoughts slowly seeping away with each stroke.
"I am washing you."
The hand makes its way to the other shoulder, and begins the same lavish treatment as with the previous arm. Jin sighs. Her eyelids feel so heavy. And even if she does open them, what if she discovers this is all a dream?
"But why?" She leans into the touch. Breathes in the smell of clean linen, and the freshness of the wind. It is so very familiar. But she cannot quite put a finger to it…
"Do you not want to be clean?" the voice asks softly. She ponders for a bit.
"No, I suppose not. Do I deserve to be?"
"Yes." Comes the firm answer. "Very much. More so than many others, you deserve to be clean."
This dream is so odd. She blinks as her hands travel upwards, following the muscles of the arm to where it connects to a bare shoulder. Her hand comes to rest at his cheek, where rough stubble grazes her questioning fingers. It feels too real to be imaginary.
Her mind is coming back to her. The voice, she remembers it. Jin blinks again. Trying to make sure it is reality and not her wistful imagination.
"You came back," she whispers disbelievingly. She still cannot see him, but she knows he is there. Holding her, bathing her, cherishing her broken body.
He finishes with his task. The cloth comes up to cup her face upwards, and she sees a pair of molten gold looking down upon her. There is much unsaid in his gaze. Understanding, gentleness, and concern. Tears come to her eyes, and she chokes out, "T-the baby… I-."
"I know," he softly cuts in. His thumb comes up to wipe at both of her wet cheeks. "It does not matter. I did not lose you."
His strong arms lift her by the underside of her arms. Seeing that she is too weak to support herself, he wraps a soft towel around her nakedness, and he settles her against his chest as they both sit on the edge of the bathing pool.
"Did you know how hard my heart was pounding as I saw you lying there on the infirmary bed? It seemed like you were no different from a corpse. I feared for the worst," he murmurs in her ear. She has a hard time focusing on his words. His heat is so close. Each breath tickling her wet skin.
His arm goes around to wrap around her waist. Not too tightly, but a comforting weight on her now concave stomach. He drops his forehead to the nape of her neck. "Forgive me," he utters in a hoarse voice.
"For what?" Jin asks as she dully gaze off into the distance. She has heard too many apologies. They all sound the same now.
"For not being there to protect you." His right hand comes to rest on her heart. "For...too many things. An apology does not even begin to do it justice."
"Please… say no more." Listening to his pain, even though she has decided to close her heart, still manages to cause her anguish. And this moment is just too wonderful to be spoiled by regrets.
Altair kisses the exposed skin of her shoulder. "Will you be able to stand?"
"I honestly do not know." Her voice is still frail and wavering. But she is regaining strength as she leans his solid body. His energy, his warmth, his unyielding force. She wants to absorb all of those into her feeble frame, and she almost feels alive again.
They remain unmoving from their position. Him taking comfort in her beating heart and her breaths. Her rediscovering the feeling of living within the strength of his arms.
"… stay like this forever." He mumbles sleepily into her damp hair. She smiles and silently agrees. His hand goes to touch her necklace. He wants to tell her what he has found in foreign lands. How she may possibly have family in a far away country.
But what can happen afterwards is what he is truly scared of. Jin might decide to stay with her new-found relatives. She might cut ties with the Brotherhood and with him. And the thought of it is intolerable. It is what prevented him from bringing up the subject for so long.
Now as he holds her feeble body close, he comes to a decision. She deserves to know. Her life with him has been nothing but suffering, and as the one responsible, he should be offering all her available choices in front of her. Jin is not a bird he can keep caged within his embrace. It is time to set her free.
"You and I… we shall take a trip once you recover," the assassin murmurs. Jin nods slowly, too tired to question him further. "But for now, just let me hold you for a bit longer."
She wonders why his words sound like a farewell. But the hazy steam, the intoxicating scent of the bathing oils, and the hypnotizing beats of Altair's heart are like notes of a familiar lullaby. And she quickly falls asleep in his arms.
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Masyaf is slowly rebuilding itself. Repairs on damaged buildings. Replenishment of supplies. And most importantly, the recruitment of more trainees. The fortress is bustling with activity. Full fledged assassins in white are now less in numbers. Instead there are many more grey novices, eager and counting the days till they earn their blades. The higher ranked masters find themselves with a few more students than before.
The dead is mourned, celebrated, and then cast into the immortal mold of memory. And life goes on. As it always does.
But while Masyaf is reviving itself, there is one who is not.
When she has recovered enough to walk, Jin makes it a habit to pay regular visits to the marketplace. She cannot bear to stay within the cold, sterile halls of the Brotherhood. Nor does she enjoy walks in the Garden, working at the infirmary, or strolling around the stables like she used to. They remind her too much of failure. Too much of a prison.
And always, there is Altair. Either walking besides her, or tracing her footsteps. It seems that he will not let her out of his sight.
She is dully examining the pottery stall, when there is an unexpected push from behind. Altair steadies her before she knows it. Jin glances back, and sees the running backside of a little child.
"Boys," she tries to smile in reassurance at her companion, "Always up to trouble no doubt."
Altair's face is dark. He follows the boy's movement with narrow eyes. "Check your money."
Jin searches for her coin purse, and just as Altair anticipated, finds it gone. She looks up at him in surprise, but white-robed assassin is already gone. Understanding dawns upon her, and she quickly follows after them.
The thief is obviously experienced. He weaves in and out of passageways, merges himself in the crowd, and it is only after ten minutes that he stops to dump out the contents of Jin's purse. Altair wastes no time. He drops down from the overhand, corners the urchin in the alley, and grabs the boy's arm before he can escape.
"I take it you know the punishment for your crimes," the man says in a serious voice.
"Let go!" The street urchin cries out. Desperately tries to wrench his arm free. The little boy's eyes widen in horror as the assassin's hidden blade slides out of its sheath. "No! I promise I will not do it again! I am… hungry…" Altair's face remains unreadable. He raises the blade, fully intending to only scare the boy so he will think twice before stealing again. But Jin rounds the corner at that exact moment.
"Altair! Stop!" Jin rushes by, out of breath and clearly misinterpreting his intention. She puts herself in between the assassin and the boy. "He means no harm! Look, look at how skinny he is." Altair does not move. But watches with hidden interest at her sudden burst of energy.
Jin turns to the youth. "You must be so hungry… What is your name?"
"I have none. Don't need one," the boy all but spat back at her.
She tilts her head. "No name? But what does your parents call you?" Altair shifts slightly. Just by looking at the filthy kid, with oily black hair, his skinny, malnourished limbs, and that wild hungry look on the thin face, he can already guess the answer is.
"No parents. Don't need them either."
Jin stills. No parents… An orphan. Unwanted, forgotten and abandoned. So much like her. Her hand goes to lightly grasp his dirty ones.
"Who takes care of you? Any family?"
"Nah. Got nobody, don't need anyone," the kid sneers. He tries, unsuccessfully to pull his arm free, but Jin holds on fast.
"Orphans are common here. Especially after the recent battle with the Templars. Many children like him have lost his family and now live off of the streets. It will only be a matter of time before they are caught stealing and then they will be dealt with," Altair explains tonelessly. He can see the idea growing in her head. And he already knows what will be his own answer.
"I want to take him in," she announces to Altair. His expression, unreadable as always, does not change. She feels as if she's the one being carefully watched.
"Do you know what it is you are getting into? You will be responsible for taking care of him." He does not add 'like a parent', but the implications are there.
His stern words have no effect on her. She tilts her chin up stubbornly. "Yes. Yes I do. I can feed him, clothe him, and teach him how to take care of himself."
"I can already take care of myself," the boy grumbles loudly, but is ignored by the two adults fighting their own silent battle. He finally takes a good look at the strange woman who is holding his hand. She is fair, with long wavy blond hair that is covered with a gray hood typical of an assassin novice. Except for her unusual coloring, there is really nothing spectacular about her. But she is not one bit scared as she stares back at the intimidating assassin. Standing up for him instead of backing down. And all of a sudden, he decides she might not be so bad.
She is challenging him again. After weeks of seeing her suffering in quiet depression, he sees the reawakening spark. The start of the internal fire that has always drawn him to her. And if the boy is the reason why she returning to her old self... the decision is made almost instantaneously in his head.
"If that is what you wish," he concedes, "then I will permit him to stay." He retracts his hidden blade, and the boy relaxes visibly.
"Well first things first," Jin straightens up, but keeps her grip on the boy, "You need a bath. Right away."
Profanities immediately begins spewing from the orphan's mouth, and she grimaces.
"Need to wash that mouth out too."
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He is right about the boy.
Through his childish enthusiasm, Jin rediscovers the joys of living at Masyaf. Each morning, the two will share a breakfast and head over to the horse stables. Jin teaches him all that she knows about tending to the horses and assigns him chores. She takes him with her on her trips into the woods where she collects medicinal herbs. And in an impressive amount of time, he learns which plants are poisonous, which ones can divert hunger, and which are good for fevers.
As the boy grows taller and gains more weight, he can also see the color returning to Jin's face, and her limbs regaining their vigor as she chases down the boy for his daily baths.
The orphan soon becomes her second shadow. Despite the boy's vehement protesting, everyone can plainly see that he adores Jin. They even sleep together, much to Altair's chagrin. It was the first time that the assassin found himself exiled out of his own room.
"We should name you, or else we will keep calling you boy," the assassin muses out loud one day. The subject himself makes a rude sound, and quickly corrects himself once he realizes who he is talking to. Ever since their first meeting, the boy is still very cautious with Altair, not letting down his guard.
"And when you receive a master as your teacher, he will need a name to call you with."
"Who said I want training?" The boy scowls. He finds himself locked into the piercing gaze of an eagle, and he quickly looks away.
"Do not lie to yourself. I have seen you watching the men spar in the practice ring. I know that expression upon your face. The need to become stronger. The desire to survive. This is something you yourself want," Altair speaks softly. "And also, you have already mastered the basics, seeing how you were able to survive this far as a pickpocket. There is potential for much more, and you would belittle yourself by denying it."
"Are you actually paying Nasir a compliment?" Jin asks with a smirk as she walks into the room. She sits down beside the boy, and begins to towel off his wet hair.
"Is that his name? The helper?" Altair looks back to the sullen boy. Jin is done drying him. She leaves the towel over his newly-cut and washed hair, and it drapes over his head in a fashion very similar to a white assassin's hood. His eyes are dark, but bright with intelligence. They follow Jin's every movement with attention. His shielding body language is not lost upon the assassin.
With a reassuring smile, Altair lays a gentle hand upon Nasir's head.
"It is a fitting name. I have no doubts you will live up to it."
Notes: Thanks for all the reviews! Even the negative ones, as I do pay special attention to them and I hope to improve as I go along. Or maybe not. It really does depend on the creative juices in the end I would say. It's always at the middle parts of the story where I lose interest/motivation/run into writer's block. When I go back and re-read my earliest chapters I always think "Wow, did I really write that?" Haha... fail.
Scene with Maria and the baby refers to Codex page 24, before it was actually written. I guess when he says someday "I will have a child", he means a child he has claim to. Because of losing her first child, Maria is pretty possessive about this one and he realizes he will have little say in raising the kid. Especially since he's always busy and away.
So... the Apple keeps gaining new powers as the series go on. If I recall correctly, Ezio used it as a weapon, but at the same time it lets him recover health so much faster? So my reasoning assumed that Altair can also partially control the Pieces of Eden to heal because of his lineage. It makes sense in my head. :/ The bath scene might have happened, or it might have not. In my mind, it was partial reality and partial dreaming. Water has been used as a motif for cleaning and rebirth for many other cases of literature, and this case is no different. That scene will be a turning point. Up till that point, Jin has been burdened by jealousy, insecurities, and a whole lot of negativity. The way in which she conceived was also another thing. Now that she has been "cleansed", she is essentially reborn with a fresh start. This perhaps is my fanciful wishing, because nobody gets a free restart on life. But I do believe in the resilience of human nature, and like a burnt tree, there are still parts that are alive and still growing. And with the right amount of care and attention, the tree will flourish again. If you catch my drift... ;D
Yeah, Jin's heritage/history and the necklace. Many readers have brought it up, gave wild guesses, and reminded me about it. Hopefully... all questions will be answered by the next chapter. YAY! (it really will not be a big plot twist or too exciting. Just tossing it out there. It's the journey and how the characters deal with her reunion with her family that's really the main point.)
Now the real burning question: In a verbal spat between Nasir and Malik, who will win? xD
Update: Whatever website I got "Nasir" had the wrong definition. Changed it from "protector" to "helper" b/c I rather go with Wikipedia. lol