Two Assassins, a Historian, and a Templar Walk Into a Bar
When Malik realized his companions weren't below for breakfast and morning had fully bathed the city in its golden light, he began to worry for the duo- especially the civilian time traveler. When Altaïr became enraged, he had the strength of a mad bull and would plow his way through anything to achieve his goal. After he finished breakfast (he was desperately hungry, damn it), he headed upstairs to open the door himself from the outside since his friend hadn't snuck out to open it. He didn't know what to expect from the two since nobody reported excessive noise to the owner and Malik hoped there weren't mutilated limbs with fresh crimson blood smeared all over the walls. His assassin senses were on full alert as he stood before the bedroom door with ominous worry, the wooden latch opening under his fingers to reveal. . .
Vivian and Altaїr slept soundly on in their shared bed, her petite form hidden under the covers with only the top of her black mane peeking through while his friend slept soundly in the center of the bed face-up. Well, that was oddly unexpected since Altaïr usually kept to himself when sleeping, choosing either the floor or couch. He was relieved to see they didn't carry injuries, fallen unconscious, or had trashed the room, and decided to give them privacy as he retreated downstairs to occupy himself with a book. After spending a night in a room that was fit to be his coffin, he was anxious to be in an open room to get fresh air. Next time, Altaïr would be stuffed into a tiny room with Vivian when they decided to have a spat because he was the innocent party between all that (and required a peace of mind).
Altaїr awoke first, being an early riser (meaning midmorning today), and found himself smothered by not only his blankets but another human body. He hadn't accidentally killed someone in his sleep, had he? Or knocked them unconscious? Groaning in distaste for not having a bed all to himself, he wiped his eyes with his only free hand as the sun decided to shoot its bright beam on his side of the bed and lowered his head to avoid being blinded early in the morning. Altaїr lowered one brown eye to see Vivian draped diagonally, almost horizontally, over his vertical position on the bed and he had to wonder how she even slept comfortably in such a position (and didn't suffocate being face down). He wasn't going to lie, he was a notorious bed hog since he was a bachelor but she seemed to maneuver her way around that. She almost resembled a corpse if he didn't check to make sure her chest was rising and wondered if she'd even tried to move him throughout the night to find a decent position to sleep in. On the other hand, his weight outmatched hers and her lack of upper body strength would've had her pinned like a rabbit under a dead wolf.
Yawning into the quiet room, he rubbed her back lazily to wake her crumpled form since he felt like an owner rubbing a lazy cat that laid on him rather than the woman she was. Truly, they were strange companions in this journey and Vivian kept boggling his mind with the tiniest actions. How did she not find sleeping in a bed with man daunting? Were all women of her time like this? Or had he received an anomaly? Her feet kicked into the air in protest, picking up their blankets as she mumbled nonsensically into the mattress and he groaned aloud into the bedroom with slight annoyance. Is this what married couples went through because if so, he was glad he'd run off from Maria before he sunk deeply into what might have been. Then again, maybe it was just the crazy little badger known as Vivian (as he'd dubbed her). She kept insisting that he maintain his attention to Maria since his future generation depended greatly upon it but Altaïr wasn't quite ready to settle down when the Templars order remained a threat. Of course, she'd sarcastically added in that he'd be holding a cane and dragging his coffin by the time that happened but he ignored her chiding.
"Get up, you're cutting off my circulation" he whined with an annoyed grunt and decided to take matters into his hands, sitting up groggily with a face full of sunshine to watch her roll into his lap like a bale of harvested hay. Well, at least she hadn't clung onto his clothes or bed sheets subconsciously. The dormant Vivian landed on her back without a change in sleep pattern as she kept dozing on peacefully and he sighed towards the ceiling in sheer disbelief, running his fingers through his cropped brown hair. How much of a deep sleeper was this woman? When her left hand twitched, his brown eyes lit up expectantly as he watched her intently to wake up. . .only to see her reach up and scratch the top of her right breast.
Was he intentionally and cruelly being tortured?
He slapped her hand away from her own bosom before she decided to venture further south and expose him to something terrifying, eliciting a protesting groan from her lips. Deciding to use the same trick she used on him when he overslept, he pinched her nose to seal off her breathing and waited for her to gulp for air. It didn't take long and she coughed loudly, rising to sit up immediately to regain her full breathing but collided her head with his when he wasn't fast enough to dodge. The sharp contact jolted her awake and she groaned painfully as she held her throbbing head, rubbing the throbbing spot while sputtering accusingly with blazing eyes, "Altaїr!"
"You wouldn't wake and I wasn't going to watch you scratch hidden places under your nightgown!" he shot back defensively before he was blamed for something he didn't do, preferring to be blamed for butting heads with her. Otherwise, he'd never live down the wrongful accusation of groping a woman, especially the little badger that was currently glaring holes through his face. As honorable as he was as an assassin, he was the same as a gentleman because protecting others was the main priority as an assassin (besides maintaining the peace). The palm of his hand rubbed the center of his forehead, accustomed to strikes while Vivian held her head like she'd been struck by a coconut projectile and he finished sharply, "I forgot to lean back when I pinched your nose and your head hit mine."
She waved a dismissive hand through the air, rubbing her throbbing skull with the palm of her left hand to dull the pain while the assassin sat proudly like a basking lion without acknowledging the bump. Even in the morning he made her look atrocious in appearance and prone to injuries. She wrinkled her nose when a familiar scent struck the air between them and teased mischievously, "Did the Apple give you dragon breath that could fell an army with one whiff?"
He narrowed his eyes to being insulted about his morning breath since she didn't smell like a fresh bed of flowers herself and thinned his lips as a shred of self-consciousness struck. His little sour mood to her comment faded instantly when she smiled for the first time since that day at the river, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders as she remarked impishly, "It's not a bad superpower. I have it too."
Her green eyes brightened to an idea that burst into her mind and she added in enthusiastically, "Wouldn't it be clever to be given a gland at the back of your mouth to spray people you don't like with a paralyzing poison?"
Altaїr shook his head to her wild imagination, already knowing her avidness as a reader and her era helped to forge that illogical land. How many fiction and nonfiction tales of worth had erupted during her time? Had any philosophical, scientific, medicinal, or militaristic geniuses risen throughout their time gap? He tried to keep a straight face (some of the fictional tales of her time were ridiculous) when he asked with mild interest, "You had that strange dream again where people can fly and shoot lightning from their hands?"
"Well, seeing as the pieces give you some kind of supernatural power, I think I already have a champion before me" she answered amusingly since her dreams were the last frontier to experience fictional adventure now that television and gaming were out of the picture. All she could do now was imagine her own fanfiction and create interesting stories that would occupy her mind from the horrible reality she was living in. Her best dream had involved Tolkien's Fellowship after endless real life journeying that reminded her subconscious of all three books but it had soon transformed Aragorn into Altaїr and she was no longer the dexterous Legolas but a new Gollum, chain wrapped around the waist while the assassin told her not to touch the One ring. It almost ruined her love for Tolkien's creations since nobody wanted to be an altered version of Gollum but yesterday's dream had been easygoing.
A good dream was a rarity but remained thankful for each one because lacking an outlet for stress would only cause a monumental buildup. Yawning into her hands in courtesy to her partner, she patted her stomach afterwards and sighed miserably, "I'm starving. Let's hope we find one that will drop food from the sky or turn everything we touch into chocolate."
He chuckled to her crazy ponderings and rose from the bed to stretch his flexible limbs for another day of work, or investigating, in his case. The inner fangirl that lingered within Vivian brought an intrigued arched eyebrow as she gazed at his backside, cursing the invisible forces of power that didn't allow her to cling to him like she would've on her cardboard cut-out. The flexible stretching was almost hypnotic as she watched toned muscles shift under his sleeping tunic but she slapped herself mentally to gaze away before he caught her. No, he was eye candy only because his personality would tear hers into tiny microscopic pieces. Also, there could be no emotional attachments of any sort because ruining the time-space continuum would doom everyone.
Running her fingers through tousled hair, her brain was stimulated with a new idea and she joked wittily, "Oh, you should do that by the window. There's this man on the other side that was doing the same yesterday," her nose wrinkled and she mumbled distastefully, "It wasn't pretty, my eyes were scarred. Go show that guy how it's done."
Ignoring her comment to get revenge on the half-naked man from across the inn, he approached the door to check whether Malik had dropped by to check in on them. Fortunately, he'd unlocked it for them and hoped he wasn't in store for a 'did you behave?' or 'protect the time traveler' lecture because he'd been rather well-behaved (in his view). Turning around to witness Vivian fiddling with the bandage over her left ankle, he informed casually, "I'm going to the outhouse."
"Take your Codex" she piped up hastily while scratching her itchy skin under the bandage (heat wasn't helping it) and he stared at her awkwardly for the suggestion. What was outhouse etiquette during her time? Truly, she baffled him with her lack of reservation. Vivian forgot toilet jokes were nonexistent there as well by the bewildered expression on his face, tickled pink by the hoodless Altaïr as he finally used his facial muscles for something other than scowling. She chuckled softly as his brow furrowed slightly to show his mind was working on the problem and she explained with a bright smile, "People do their best thinking while on the toilet. For all we know, that's how inventions were formed."
"I think I'll skip that, Vivian" he disagreed with a disturbed face at having to do that and write at the same time. The woman really was strange sometimes with her ideas and hoped he wouldn't come back to find her competing in a stretching contest by the window. The norms of his time were very different and actions like that could have the poor woman exiled with stones being hurled in her direction. Oddly enough, he could do the same and escape unscathed. He decided to protect the vulnerable badger in his hands and pointed to the bed as he stated easily, "Sleep longer if you need to, I will return soon."
I need to make sure Malik didn't suffocate in that tiny mouse sized room, he pondered on the well-being of his friend and hoped he wasn't clawing madly at the walls with claustrophobia. It wasn't his intention for Malik to have a tiny room but his private mission outweighed Malik's comfort because Altaïr definitely wasn't going to have Vivian ignoring or tearing into him throughout the journey.
She smiled happily to the option of sleeping in and grabbed his pillow into her arms with a gleeful squeeze and dove back into the warm bed with an agreeable yawn, "Will do, sir."
Altaïr couldn't help but think she resembled a rolled up caterpillar as she snuggled back into the sheets while Vivian picked up the faintest scent of leather on his pillow.
It suited him.
The arrival to the heart of Giza had excited the weary body of Vivian and sent her into hysterical giggles the second she'd spotted the pyramids from afar, pointing them out ecstatically to a bored 'can I hunt down Templars?' Altaïr and landmark curious Malik. Altaïr decided to keep her close before she ran off into the crowds like a child in a candy store and Vivian was forced to stay in the man's grip as they blended into the moving crowd of travelers and residents. After their blowout in the inn the previous night, they'd kept their conversation to a minimum as the first hours were critical to reassemble their shaky foundation. Plus, with their tendencies to argue, it could unravel within seconds and hurl them into a relentless hurricane of insults. Malik tried to help them bridge a friendship with playful banter or simple humor, nothing that attacked personally, since he had no intention of sleeping in a box for another night. His sense of humor worked for Vivian, who was naturally playful at heart, while Altaïr was inexperienced in the field of humor and related everything in his life to assassinating (Vivian didn't know how poor Malik survived for so long without a meltdown). It wasn't the best mixture but Malik somehow managed to survive unscathed in his jokes with him so he'd carefully guide her through the figurative minefield of Altaïr's psyche to reach a level of established trust.
"Play the meek woman and stand by my side, understood?" Altaïr ordered firmly with a whisper since commands were usually the best ways to warrant her immediate attention but kept the sharp edge sustained. If she wanted to survive in his world, she'd better learn the customs of each land and the world's norms with each tidbit that he gave her. This was easy as pie for Vivian since she found it a fitting situation to feel comfortable; it was an archaic version of an open swap meet.
"If you're so determined to keep me with you, all you have to do is ask" she pointed out with a naughty voice to irk his natural defenses and looped her left arm through his right with a large comical grin. He tried to wriggle out of her grip immediately, resembling a wriggling eel in the middle of a walking crowd, as Malik laughed from behind them with amusement. Well, at least they were initiating physical contact that didn't involve physical beatings. Altaïr turned around with the ferocity of a lion and shot him a furious glare because having Vivian stuck to him like glue broke all barriers of his personal space. She chose to ignore his visible discomfort to see if she could desensitize him to it (he treated touching as a severe allergy anyway) and pulled him along as she rambled on about her shopping list, "Now, I need to restock and find- oh my Gandalf, a hygiene stand!"
This was her lucky day!
Before he could reprimand her that they were there to start the trail to the piece of Eden, Vivian yanked him forward with the strength of ten men that betrayed her petite form. His honey toned eyes widened to being pulled away from Malik like a rag doll but she'd spotted items she sorely needed and would not let anything get in her way- present assassin included. The wooden shop invited her with its alluring shade and the merchant didn't have to tell her more about the baking soda gargle with its cleansing properties; she'd already slapped her durham coins onto the table without counting to buy a small bag. Malik shook his head with dismay to her lack of currency counting skills and fixed the right amount to hand it over to the merchant before they ended up poor. Vivian smiled sheepishly to her sudden mishap, involuntary squeezing Altaïr's arm (his teeth were close to baring as they grit tightly to the point of breaking) as she murmured, "Thanks."
"We really need to work on your money counting skills" Malik sighed with a brotherly tsk and she rolled her shoulders sheepishly since mouth gargle was pretty exciting. Who wouldn't want natural mouthwash in that era? Toothbrushes were sorely lacking! Altaïr didn't appreciate being handled like a child's rag doll but at the same time, wasn't willing to risk her running off on her own to explore. If that happened . . . he was tempted to hang himself to save his soul the traumatizing trouble.
When she spotted a toothbrush made of wood and dense horse hair bristles, she didn't care about the discomfort it would cause her gums as long as it kept her mouth squeaky clean. Oh, how she longed for floss. She'd had enough of Altaïr's use of a miswak tree shrub for tooth cleaning, which did absolutely nothing at fighting plaque or cavities, and wanted something more decent. Quite honestly, they deserved it with the kind of lifestyle they were living and declared fervently with a mad gleam in her green eye, "I want that!"
"You have a perfectly good tooth cleaner at home" the master assassin chastised with ample reason to dissuade her impulsive shopping because food was their main priority. He'd already bought her robes and splurging on her wants wouldn't bode well for any of them; he'd spank her with the oar if she tried to rebel. New friendship or not, she would have to learn that not everything could be had in life- especially when involved with the assassin's order.
"Yeah, it's great getting little splinters on my gums to flash people with" she stated sarcastically to the bothersome method of tooth cleaning and desperately wanted that bristled toothbrush. It wasn't what modern times could give her but it definitely beat a stick by a long mile. There were days she didn't want to use the thing for fear that she'd get a splinter she couldn't remove with a needle and almost cried the first time she'd used on. This was a battle she would fight for fiercely and clung to his arm, immobilizing him from leaving the area (she'd cling and dig her feet into the dirt if he tried) and Malik kept his distance to see how this new problem would be solved. Would they reach a compromise like civilized adults or blow into a brawl like rabid dogs? He could only wonder what occurred in that bedroom to simmer their previous rage but since blood splatter and broken furniture lacked, he had faith in the two. Vivian jabbed her index finger in emphasis to the toothbrush that laid innocently on the counter and explained knowingly, "This is similar to what I use and I'm getting it so nyeh! Your mouth and teeth will thank me."
Altaïr narrowed his eyes with contempt because his appearance was quite all right in his opinion, given his profession, and leaned closer to snap heatedly, "Not when you insult my hygiene."
She glanced at the other items on the store counter since debating him wasn't her intention this early in the day and didn't want to risk a relapse to their old attitudes. How could she reach an agreement with the cranky assassin? Hygiene and a better standard of living weren't helping her cause. What would appeal to Altaïr? Her mind melted into his usual persona to try to find his Achilles' heel and all she could reach were the 'creed this', 'assassins this', and 'Templars that'- everything in his life relating the Order. Bingo! Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she smiled calmly to restate her words in a brighter sense as she utilized the heart of his beliefs, "Actually, you're very well groomed for a man of your time. I don't imagine assassins would let themselves get spotted by their body odor and this little brush would come in handy quite well. Remember tenant #2, buddy."
"I don't feel comfortable with this 'buddy' thing" he stated grumpily with a frown to this new 'friendship' of theirs but Malik nudged him aside before the two began an argument. The master assassin waved him away with a soft grunt since he wasn't going to insult Vivian, merely offering his opinion about this new relationship of theirs. Also, he had to grudgingly admire her craftiness for latching onto the tenants of the order to justify her purchase of a simple toothbrush. It was certainly nice not to have to fight her every step of the way but at the same time, he felt a little empty for lacking her witty challenge. Had he inadvertently become accustomed to their little spats since leaving Masyaf? Malik raised a left eyebrow in curiosity to his friend's glazed expression and hoped he had accepted his new role. Trust was a big issue for Altaïr but he seemed to work around that with the ex-Templar Maria, a previous enemy, so Malik- always the optimist- would remain watchful.
Malik would wait almost a year before that happened and by then, he would be prying the two apart for a completely different reason.
Both men, however, balked when she brought up without shame to the merchant (who was thankfully female), "I'm looking for items for those special days of the month where a woman wants to do nothing but lay in bed and eat pastries. Oh, and something to get rid of this body hair that doesn't include a blade, if possible."
"Vivian!" they exclaimed indignantly to her open manner of speaking and she waved them away with a motherly 'shoo'. Malik slapped a hand to his forehead to her bold manners while Altaïr scowled for not having brought his handy rope to keep her tied to his side like a disobedient puppy. Had she no shame bringing up such topics in public, with a stranger, no less?
"My brothers, they're very bashful" she piped up modestly to play the innocent card, forcing a rosy hue to her cheeks, and jabbed a thumb towards Malik. If they wanted her to play the meek card to get her items, she would oblige to keep herself alive and out of trouble. Besides, nobody would arrest a person that was a little off in the head, right? Flashing a charming smile onto her lips, she chatted up the store owner by pointing to the flustered dai and stated perkily, "He's my best brother in the world and the sweetest man you'll ever know. Meet Malik, an unmarried scholar with his own farmstead out west."
Altaïr resisted from slapping his forehead to the apparent matchmaking the woman was trying to incite between the two. Malik's mouth popped open to having feminine attention focused on him as the woman smiled amicably and Altaïr hoped there wasn't another merchant walking around that she'd try to pin him with. The dai wasn't accustomed to this kind of attention and almost blushed for the first time in his life, sheepishly coughing into his hand to ward away the tint. Of course, the merchant had to point her dainty finger towards Altaïr and ask curiously, "And him?"
"Oh, he's married to a wash maid but he pees himself constantly so I pity her" Vivian informed casually with a sorrowful pout and Altaïr restrained himself from chucking her into the nearest bale of hay for the persona she pinned on him. How dare she tell others he wet himself like an uncivilized animal? Instead of resorting to his old attitude where he chased her through a field while brandishing his hidden blade, he leaned against her and pinched her on the left side in warning. His ears were delighted as he enjoyed the little squeak of alarm she gave, her hands slapping him away by the arm for the little jolt of pain before rubbing her side to dull it. The strikes caused absolutely no damage but she was ready to bite his head off about it until-
"Buy your. . .female items" he snapped awkwardly with a small grimace on his lips as he allowed her time to run that special errand since the female body worked differently than his own and she promised she'd be quick about it. As long as she never mentioned female physiology again, he would be glad. Their disagreement came to an abrupt end without violence as they reached a suitable compromise and he cleared his throat to inform the merchant gruffly, "I don't pee myself."
He walked towards a nearby bench to sit and await her return to resume their journey, blending amongst the people sitting on it.
"I can't believe you just let him leave with her!"
Vivian took away her hands from her ears since Altaïr's nonstop yelling had caused a dull ringing in one and retorted matter-of-factly, "You're the boss, you could've said otherwise. Malik needs some lovin' on this journey and I'm helping our friend after he's had to bear our crazy spats. Not many would withstand us. Besides, you got your loving in Acre-"
"Vivian!" Altaïr reprimanded her sharply for bringing up his private life in the open public and she covered her ears again with a wince. Ugh, if this was his friendly side, she wasn't seeing much of a difference. Even 'morning Altaïr' behaved the same! The people awkwardly staring at them and doing nothing to help wasn't comforting either- apparently letting a man yell at his female companion was perfectly all right? She really wasn't warming up to the 12th century.
"He'll gather the info you wanted anyway while we find a place to stay and trail after Templars" she finished lowly to reassure him everything would be fine and chewed a piece of hard candy she'd bought from the stores. It was rather delicious as the brown honey cube brought endless sweetness that was subtle and loved the taste of it. It definitely beat candy with high fructose corn syrup any day. Their friend had stayed behind to chat with the merchant, both to find information and have a day without worries about saving the world. Vivian held out her navy linen shopping bag (her sewing skills had improved rather well), offering a friendly smile to calm the storm brewing within him by asking cheerfully, "Hard candy?"
He refused with a low grunt as he kept an eye out for Templars, switching between his sight and eagle vision as Vivian provided cover as his civilian companion. She looked to his white robes as a main beacon for discovery since he had slowly begun to stick out amongst the crowds due to its pristine white color among the neutral colors. Really, how did he attain that spotless color? She'd been in the past for almost a month and couldn't reach that level of white herself. Her green eyes lingered on the fine silver stitching around his shoulders before lowering to the maroon sash around his waist and nicely suggested a wardrobe change, "The more we travel south, the more you'll be noticed by Templars who target you instantly due to the color. We might need to change your robes a little to divert their attention."
The old Altaïr refused change adamantly as he stuck to his rules but the new Altaïr was just as fond of his white robes since the day he received them after initiation. It was an honor to wear the assassin's garb after endless hard work, especially since he was their grand master, and wouldn't abandon it without a second thought. On the other hand, their creed demanded that they work within the shadows and never be detected by their enemies which would call for such a change. He paused for a moment to ponder over this, hidden by the shade provided by a stone pillar that held an arch over the small street as it bridged two limestone buildings together. Vivian stopped immediately to stay by his side and he glanced down to his white robes, studying them closely against their environment to admit slowly, "I've always worn my robes," the sneaky smile stretching on her lips had him correcting it, "in public. We're meant to blend into our surroundings but. . .I believe I've grown rather fond of the color."
"We'll make subtle changes, add a neutral color that matches the places we visit" she proposed gently to allow him to adjust to a change since his garb held sentimental value. She'd never had thought he'd be one for such after his stoicism towards everything, even people. Again, this was the real Altaïr rather than the digital character and she would treat him with respect (even though at times, she wanted to beat him over the head). She smiled sympathetically as his fingertips trailed over the metal gauntlets over his wrists and stated quietly, "One day, you will design an armor set that will replace these robes as the Apple shows you how and it will protect future assassins."
He frowned to the cryptic revelation since his order would rather have help now than later and asked dryly, "Couldn't you just tell me how it looks like?"
"That would defy time and could alter you. . .but a helpful tip, don't obsess over the Apple" she negated gently to keep him on the right path since she didn't want him turning into Sméagol with Sauron's ring and sacrificing a part of himself to that thing. None of them knew what those objects were capable of during the long-term run with the wielder and she wanted to protect him from becoming something that would change who he was. She'd rather have the grumpy, cunning, and heroic assassin rather than a gloomy, cold, and emotionless shell of the valiant warrior he was. Her fingers grasped the ends of his as he'd started fidgeting with his right gauntlet, halting his innocent readjusting and assured his hidden uncertainty, "You will unlock many things to help future assassins but do not and I mean this with all the kindness in the world, don't change. Some heroes make the sacrifice of casting aside all they love and what made them honorable, sometimes not even knowing it, to secure the future and don't want that happening to you again-"
"All right, I will agree to a wardrobe change" he cut in with a feigned tone of irritation before she blew into a longer monologue about the future and grabbed a piece of candy from the small bag in her hand. She directed a small glare in his direction for not asking first since he nagged about having manners all the time, watching him chew on one of its corners and he admitted a second later with mild agreement on his face, "Not bad."
Well, at least he approved of her candy options.
Eventually, the two companions found their way to a new inn for the night after Vivian and Altaïr asked the locals (they were trying to get closer to the pyramids as possible) while masquerading as a visiting newlywed couple searching for a homely inn. This time, Vivian didn't try to run off to shop and played the dutiful housewife with the assassin by complimenting the city in order to gather their information. The inn was decently priced for a small two floor building and after spending weeks on the road without a roof over their heads, it was a luxury they could afford at a dead Templar's wage. Besides, saving the world outweighed stealing from their enemies. They would be a little cramped with three to one room (Altaïr would pop in a ladder from nearby so Malik could climb in at night) but at that point, they could sleep anywhere as long as they were bug free. Malik had yelped one night about a spider trying to find its way into his ear for refuge . . . or lay eggs, it was one or the other. Vivian hadn't felt comfortable at the last inn as the owners kept giving her the evil eye for dropping their coat hanger and Altaïr allowed the decision.
Vivian opened a door at the back of their room, facing away from the city landscape, and grinned happily to the sight held within the tiny room, "We have a bath! Well, it's more of a large wooden tub but whatever! We can finally bathe like normal human beings."
The room was small as it held a wooden basin for old fashioned bathing but it was a welcome sight to both their eyes after traveling without decent showering. There were washcloths on the edges of the large bath to serve as scrubbers or towels and a smaller bucket lay next to a limestone basin holding fresh water. Altaïr didn't hesitate to call dibs on the first bath and walked forward to claim it, "I'm going first-"
"No, bathe after you return so then we won't be surrounded by the body odor of your adventure" she interrupted quickly to halt his stampede and blocked the doorway by spreading her arms to prevent him from entering. If she wasn't so certain he wouldn't kill her, she would've cowered under his six foot tall frame since the arsenal strapped to his body alone could turn one into a little shaking ball. She pushed him back outside by the chest, bearing his manly grunts of displeasure to being forbidden of a squeaky clean bath time and compromised calmly, "While you're out there, I'll be exploring around this area, it looks safe enough not to get lost-"
"Shh" he cut in sharply to hush her chatter and she blinked with confusion to the sudden halt. She wondered for a moment if he was serious or faking an emergency to simply silence her (he'd done that before in the middle of a trade). With the tantalizing bath behind them, she wouldn't have been surprised since he was one to get results. However, when she sharpened her hearing to their surroundings, she managed to catch an echo of something. They could hear muffled voices nearby from within the walls, their tone frustrated, and Altaїr pressed his ear against the limestone wall shared with the next room to the right to see whether the voices would clear. Vivian tried to see if there were holes within the wall that they could use to their advantage like they used in spy films but no such luck, pressing her ear to mimic the master assassin. Altaïr merely spared her an amused glance as she tried to help but doubted her untrained ears would catch anything.
She shook her hands into fists when she failed to catch anything but inaudible mumbles that resembled the teacher from the Peanuts and grumbled under her breath, "This is ridiculous. I'm going in."
She grabbed a clean rag from the table holding their belongings and scampered to the washing room to fill a small wooden bowl with water from the basin (Altair hated seeing the clear clean water go into a bowl that wasn't his stomach or his body). Ugh, he wanted a bath so badly. Fixing her mid-length wavy locks into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck, Vivian smoothed out her clothes to appear decent and grabbed the bowl to exit the bedroom. Altaïr, however, wasn't about to be left in the dark with her secret plans and pulled the back of her robes to prevent her leave. She wasn't about to pull a dangerous stunt on his watch, ignoring the disappointed groan at being halted, and drawled slowly, "And what exactly do you plan on doing?"
"A simple investigation as I play a maid since it could either be rowdy guests or our enemies, who knows?" she replied cheekily to show she could handle a little recon with her fake personas and escaped his clutches to open the door with a bright smile. He really wondered about her sanity sometimes since being thrown into an unknown world could break anyone's stability into shards. Altaïr didn't know whether to call her daring or stupid for attempting her plan, hoping he didn't have to go rescue her in a few seconds, and watched her pipe up reassuringly, "I'll be back."
In one piece, I hope, he thought darkly to what their enemies could do if she was caught but placed his trust in that little badger. She'd done quite well for herself during the battle in the village as she played the innocent wanderer so maybe it would work this time as well. Nonetheless, he stationed himself next to the closed door in case danger reared its ugly head. If she ruined his chance at a warm bath, he'd be throwing her into the nearest frigid river.
Vivian kept an eye on both ends of the corridors as she quietly snuck to the door on the right where the noise originated from, her footsteps silent as she placed her bowl on the limestone floor. Her next thought was of course, 'how the heck do you clean limestone?', but doubted Templars would care about her housekeeping abilities. Kneeling down on the floor, she pressed her left ear against the cold wooden door to tune into what they were saying. It was a bit hard to decipher at first as she heard at least three distinct voices speaking from within in quiet tones, making it harder for the amateur investigator. How did Hercule Poirot do this on a daily basis with his 'little gray cells'? Nonetheless, she would make her assassin friends proud rather than doing nothing for them.
She kept her ear pressed against the door, pretending to clean as she heard details about the pyramids- the pyramid of Khufu, in fact- and smiled sneakily to her find. A few words about allies troubled her as she tried to catch anything else between their mumbles and grit her teeth at knowing the bucket heads were getting help from outside sources. The assassins had no such thing! What was so tempting about the dark side that people got excited over it? They were trying to extinguish free will and doom humankind, what was alluring about that? When heavy footsteps approached the door with fast approach, she scrambled to the opposite wall of the hall to occupy herself with mindlessly cleaning the floor with a dishrag while humming to herself. Oh dear, had they caught her with unknown psionic abilities? The door popped open just as she worked on a black unknown stain on the ground (she didn't want to know what it was) and as usual, Templars didn't hesitate to ask questions.
Her left elbow was yanked roughly by one of them as she was caught outside their room but she would play the coy card to thwart
suspicion. Hopefully, her ethnicity wouldn't make her appear too foreign in the land of Giza and placed an expression of surprise on her face when a Caucasian man wearing their camouflaging neutral armor demanded gruffly, "What are you doing out here?"
With a low sweet laced tone that screamed innocence, she squeaked her excuse by using one of the Middle Eastern accents from within the game, "I clean for madam. Honest apology for interrupting, I come back later."
"See that you do," she was told sternly as he believed her foreign accent and rudely shoved her away from the door, spilling half of the water from her bowl onto the floor from the force. Great, now somebody would really have to clean that up! She scampered off to the end of the right side of the corridor to hide, turning towards a small stairway that led to the rooftops as she waited for the Templar to vacate the level. The Templar's footsteps were heavy against the floor from the metal armor and she waited in her concealed spot until they faded into nothing as they headed downstairs. Peeking over the corner to make sure the coast was clear, she tiptoed back to her room to make sure nobody heard or saw her (smiling like she'd won the lottery the whole way). Knocking once, Altaïr opened the door quickly and pulled her inside by the neckline of her robe to make sure nobody caught her.
She placed the half-empty bowl of water with the rag onto the floor and fixed her hair into a neat bun to keep the heat of the day away. Well, her little investigation had gone rather well with decent results. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she ushered him away from the doorway to keep their information confidential and explained with a low voice, "Yeah, we got Templars here and they're heavily interested in the largest pyramid here. There goes our plan for the homely inn where we could do our 'saving the world' planning but we have a tyrannical convention on the other side. On the other hand, this can help since they're in the next room and you can spy in on them. . .or you know, kill them."
"I will and I'll be returning at sunset" he informed her about his plans for the day as he checked his robes to make sure all of his weapons were in their rightful places. Thankfully, he didn't have much of an appetite now that he'd gathered information and knew he was on the right track. The witty time traveler came in handy for doing recon with her fake personas and he nodded approvingly to compliment her spur of the moment plan, "Good job, Vivian."
Her cheeks darkened bashfully for finally warranting something other than grunts and snaps from him, telling herself she was going in the right direction. Who wouldn't be happy to receive a compliment from one of the franchise's main protagonists? Altaïr would wander solo for this investigation to track down his enemies and issued his specialized orders for the petite woman of many faces, "Carry on with your idea but meet Malik in the center of the marketplace by midafternoon to charter a trip to those pyramids. Don't draw attention to yourself and be careful."
"Aye, aye, grand master" she agreed amicably because she doubted babysitting is what he had in mind for her and poured herself a drink of water from a jug on the table. This day was definitely one of the best since it had brought shopping, a mild mannered Altaïr, and results for their mission. The cold water was refreshing on her tongue after their short travel under the hot sun and she pondered aloud with an eager grin, "Now about your robes- oh."
The assassin was nowhere to be found in the bedroom as the open window with its fluttering wooden panel was her only answer to his quiet escape. The man was notoriously crafty, she'd give him that.
Her fingertips tapped against the wooden cup as she watched the sunlight filter into the room and smiled amusingly, "Well played, Mr. Bond."
"Vivian, it's not proper to introduce me to every woman we meet at ports and marketplaces" her friend lectured gently as they walked around the area to scope out Templars or residents that might know about them. So far, he had gathered from his new lady friend, Zara, that the 'strange foreigners' had been in the city for a few weeks and were frequently visiting the pyramids. Entering without permission was against the law but word on the street was that they hired various guides and thieves to journey inside. This coincided with Vivian's overheard conversations about allies within the city; either way, it didn't bode well for them.
The group had something concrete to go on and if they could catch up to the Templars and learn of their plans, they could have an advantage. At this moment, it was a race to the piece and Altaïr would not accept defeat. Their enemies knew nothing about the locations unlike Altaïr's handy Apple map and Vivian's historical knowledge, which would come in handy along the way. The problem now was how to eliminate their enemies without raising alarm and finding a way into the pyramid to find that piece of Eden. If it was anything like Ezio's travels, Vivian had to start preparing Altaïr to start jumping like a professional acrobat with flawless finesse (and maybe add a circus song in the background to lower the tension).
"Yet I don't hear you complaining" she grinned slyly to her crafty matchmaking skills since Malik never had much luck in comparison to Altaïr's popularity but quite frankly, Malik was the more attractive man physically. Altaïr had a stern rugged look about him while Malik carried a sophisticatedly clean appearance that caused civilians to trust him easily; they were her Anakin and Obi-Wan. Vivian assumed that the solitary life of being an assassin prevented a normal relationship with any civilian (sometimes even other assassins) but her friend deserved to have fun every once in a while. If that meant handing him a pretty and amicable woman with a figurative bow on top throughout their travels, then that would suffice. After all, it helped Ezio relieve stress (Altaïr's face had fallen with shame to that dismaying fact). Like the older sister she was, she wagged her finger and reminded carefully with a hidden mischief in her eyes, "Just remember my STD song."
He laughed in remembrance to her catchy tune when she'd sung about it after a talk on modern medicine and they'd shifted it into that topic since sex was natural way of life. Altaïr practically demanded that she wouldn't sing of such adulterated things (despite everyone being well past the adult border) but Vivian did it for the wellbeing of their love lives and health. When she cheekily stated that the contraception talk was next, aimed specifically for him and his Maria seducing hormones, Altaïr had proceeded to chase her through camp with his sword. He smiled at her strange futuristic ways, surprised by the openness of her society, and remarked honestly, "I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"Feel free to pass it on to the order, I don't want them crippled by any of it due to their ruggedly good looks" she piped up perkily with a goofy smile to the eye candy that wandered that fortress on a daily basis and Malik chuckled to her carefree way of speaking. Of course, that meant he had to make sure nobody else overheard their private conversations but she was soft-spoken in public compared to in private. They passed by a few horses eating hay within their private stable, her hand gently sliding over the velvety skin of a brown mare that peeked into the street and it reminded her of Shadowfax. How was that gentle horse? Was she being taken care of? She almost wished they were horseback riding on their travel rather than using water but a numb butt took the appeal away. They left the agricultural area of the city that was teeming with crowds as they headed directly for the travel service stands at the edge of Giza and she chuckled amusingly to joke, "Templars are pretty ugly so they'll have trouble finding anyone for some happy time."
Malik chuckled softly but waved a lecturing finger to remind, "Remember to keep those thoughts quiet and between us because having you chased out of a city will tire even the most seasoned assassin. . .but never hesitate in front of Altaïr," a playful smirk crossed his lips, "I like seeing him squirm."
She laughed to his admission since they were both onboard for that game and clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh of triumph. Vivian had found her soul mate for irking Altaïr as he'd allow her escape on most pranks and declared appreciatively with a cheerful grin, "Malik, you are the best companion for an adventure."
Their friendly banter was broken into when a random man approached the laughing Vivian, "My, what a beautiful lady-"
"Hi-yah!"
The man that was trying to draw Vivian's attention (probably for courting) suddenly found himself crying out in pain when she kicked the man right between the legs. Didn't these men realize women made their choices in men for who they were rather than for what they brought? She wasn't about to jump into the arms of the first man who asked to court her, especially when she wasn't from that time line. Also, she was sure he wasn't asking for help or directions, given the number of people wandering the city. Malik could only wince in pain for his fellow brother since he wouldn't want that happening to himself; it was an extremely painful experience. However, before she tried to do anything else or declared feminine civil rights, he grabbed her by the arm to lead her towards an empty alleyway as they left the man cowering on the floor. If there were any guards about, they wouldn't hesitate to arrest Vivian for assault and for. . .well, Malik would be the first to admit women didn't have the best treatment when compared to men. Vivian didn't hesitate to follow as her foot throbbed lightly and a victorious grin etched onto her lips at finally being able to defend herself, even if it was an innocent civilian.
"Who kicks a man in the crotch?" Malik blurted with surprise when they finally stopped in a small alleyway, choking on his laughter with dismay to what he'd just witnessed. He leaned against a stack of empty wooden crates to catch his breath, hunching over to calm the bouts of laughter that wanted to escape. He could now wholeheartedly understand why Altaïr had dubbed her the 'little dangerous badger' since she didn't hesitate to claw anyone's face if they enraged her. Still, he couldn't help but feel bad for the poor civilian and would try to teach Vivian different tactics for defense against unwanted advances. Truly, he felt the dormant 'older brother' role fitting him like a glove once more.
"My dad taught me to never take any crap from jerks trying to get into my pants- err, robes" she stated firmly as she held a finger in the air in similarity to a lecturing professor and dictated clearly, "No woman will lose self-respect and must take matters into their own hands, like Batman."
Malik couldn't hold back on his laughter and sat on the wooden crates to empty his lungs free of hiccupping laughs. Truly, he felt more energetic when she was paired with him for investigations and missed the feeling of being an older sibling. Vivian brought forward that long forgotten emotion as he guided her through the world and kept her alive from both enemies and a cranky Altaïr. His younger friend had called her a bothersome yipping pet but he preferred adopted sister, especially with her curious view of the world. Vivian massaged her foot since she hadn't given the man a soft kick, a part of her hoping she hadn't left him infertile, and he warned lightly, "Kicking people in the streets is anything but subtle."
"Yet it's effective" she piped up proudly to her tactics and grabbed his arm to carry on their way, using the shaded alleyway to keep themselves out of sight. Sure, they encountered peasants on the way but once Malik used broken English to ward them off, they were left alone. Ragamuffin gangs or thieves were another unknown variable but Vivian knew Malik could kick anyone's asses into the ground despite his humble appearance while she. . .well, she hadn't figured out that part yet. All she had on hand was a walking stick and her helpful pocket sand, sorely lacking any fighting skills that would wow anyone. So much for being the new Chuck Norris of the twelfth century, right?
They needed to find a quick cheap ride to the pyramids as soon as possible and she wouldn't fail Altaïr since he was counting on them. This was the first time she'd actually started pulling her own weight and wanted to keep that gratifying momentum rolling, encouraging with a wide smile, "Come on, let's find a guy to rent a ride towards the pyramids."
He glanced at her with an amused glint in his brown eyes and asked with the big brother voice she'd come to love, "You won't kick him in the crotch if he doesn't bargain, will you?"
"Seeing as I can't run like a fancy assassin or climb anything like Altaïr without falling hard on my butt. . .no" she answered slowly to reassure her friend that she wouldn't catch him by surprise and he nodded slowly, holding her to those words. Vivian couldn't really do much harm against anyone as her handy walking stick was all she had to carry around with her for protection and even then, the assassins covered for her during a fight. She rubbed the bottom of her chin as she tried to think of an ace up her sleeve during a sticky situation and admitted impishly, "But I still have pocket sand if we need to steal a horse or camel."
"We aren't thieves, young Vivian" he stated carefully to point out there were people they stole from and those that were strictly off limits, bursting Vivian's bubble of indulging in kleptomania. She blamed RPG games for luring her into their endless looting, especially Ezio's magical hands in AC 2, and crossed her arms with a pout to having the figurative lollipop stolen from her hands. Well, she could always find another hobby in Templar slaying. She decided that Malik would keep her in line from bringing catastrophic mayhem while Altaïr brought the opposite (he'd already stolen for her) when they teamed up and listened to him when he pointed out, "Looting the enemy is different than taking from innocent civilians."
But Ezio did it, she thought with disappointment and imagined what mayhem she could've created by looting constantly since they did need money to survive. Otherwise, they'd starve and become peasants while trying to save the world. On the other hand, it wasn't right to steal from the innocent (she left arrogant and rich civilians out of that category) and she'd been raised better than that. As she walked in this new life of hers, she realized her ideals would have to twist slightly as she dealt with different scenarios and hoped she wouldn't have to face life altering decisions. We could've created our own little gang of thieves like Robin Hood.
Every city had their low and high class boundaries, usually seen by the architecture and standards of living (nobody bathed daily though) so the two went to the cheapest area since they weren't swimming in money. They weren't even rolling in a bag of coins! Vivian was certain that eventually, she'd be singing in the street for money like a perky little monkey while Altaïr counted the earned coin on a nearby rooftop. She rather liked it since she knew nobody there that could bring mortification (plus, she didn't really exist) and wasn't going to be plastered on YouTube like people nowadays with just about anything, so it was a free reign. She was confident they'd get the job done as they strolled through the quiet dusty streets and assured, "With you and I on the case, we'll put the Scooby gang to shame with our mad skills."
Malik had no idea what she just said- probably more future jargon- and agreed just to humor her. The two eventually found a stable within their money range to rent their ride to the pyramids and just like Malik tried to tell Vivian, animals were only for sale and never rented (that would've given thieves a retirement fund). This left them to bargain with a public wagon ride business that brought tourists to Giza's pyramids for viewing at a decent price. Of course, since they were a small trio of visitors, they couldn't get anything special like a private wagon- even when she declared that she and Malik had five children staying with their grumpy uncle. Apparently, until she popped them out for visual confirmation, they had nothing and so, they purchased three tickets at full price for tomorrow's first trip to give them a full day's of investigating. In a bittersweet victory, they returned back home to tell their friend of the update . . . after Vivian snuck to the back of the private stable and restocked on their toilet paper supply of hay.
Altaïr had successfully listened into a secret meeting between Templars in the room Vivian had mentioned but it turned out to be for a single occupant as their enemies were stationed throughout the city while working covertly. Residents only knew of their interests in the pyramids but knew that no thieves would be so blatant about stealing from them so dismissed their presence after hearing no commotion with them for the past weeks since their arrival (they'd also removed any hints they were Templars in the Crusades). All of this was gathered by the crafty assassin that clung to onto the scratchy wooden ledges on the hot wall for hours as the sun beat mercilessly on his back but he was resilient. Altaïr had managed to eliminate three Templars in the lower outskirts as he stole their armor to dress up as the men (he wasn't a fan), checking out of the room in their inn to scatter the roaches and got rid of everything in a nearby well. He'd never thought of using wells to dispose of bodies and other evidence until Vivian told him through their morning stroll and he'd effectively used it to his advantage. Of course, he made sure to scribble a sign depicting it wasn't in working order to make sure nobody tried to drink bloody water.
He'd made use of his time by traveling to the city's library to peruse their record books and history relating to the mythology and old religions of the area to give him a clue of what to pursue. The beings that created the items had been treated as such, tricking humanity under their thumbs for servitude with their advanced technology, but he would unravel what he could until his time on Earth ended. His monk-like garb allowed him to blend flawlessly in the large and quiet building but when it closing time in the late afternoon, he was left with a handful of scribbled notes on paper Vivian had provided for him so he didn't have to tear them out of his own books. If time was on his side, he would come back on the following days to learn more. . .and hopefully, buy some paper with the extra coin he found on his enemies.
When Vivian and Malik returned to the small inn, they found their friend sitting outside the establishment on a wooden bench as he enjoyed a snack from a roadside vendor. The scene would not be leaving her for months, to say the least. Vivian hid laughter behind her hands to the unbelievable sight as she watched him lick his sticky calloused fingers like a peppy child as he ate a sugary pastry with an orange fruit filling. The poor man probably hadn't enjoyed such a carefree moment during his youth and Vivian realized just how much their lives varied despite they were both in their twenties. She could only compare him to a child born during the ravages of wartime, stripped of all the joys of childhood and pushed forward into maturity without input. Had Altaïr ever held a toy in his hands like a common child or had a blade been the first item he'd wielded? Children of assassins were estranged from their parents so she doubted he'd ever had a father's embrace, a mother's kiss, comfort during nightmares, helped their parents as a little cook, and many other events a child experienced. Ezio had bittersweet memories to fall back on despite the tragedy of his family's murder but Altaïr didn't have any of that. . .he was alone and the only one of his lineage. It softened her view of him as she watched him partake in an act that was natural to most but his fingers were so unsteady despite his natural dexterity. . .it was almost endearing, as far as deadly assassins went.
Time had allowed her to catch that the assassin held a sweet tooth while Malik craved anything spicy, leading her to smile impishly as she approached Altaïr. Malik could practically see the saunter in her step as she walked, stopping to balance herself on the balls of her feet with her hands tucked behind her back as she leaned over to observe him with a cheshire smile. The dai shook his head to his friend's sloppiness with creamy sweets since they were problematic to hold but greeted his friend with an amused tone, "Enjoying yourself?"
Altair's brown eyes stared back at his companions with stunned surprise and after realizing that he still had his thumb and index finger in his mouth, retracted his hand faster than the blink of an eye and coughed awkwardly, "Malik. Vivian."
Vivian, who always found herself starving nowadays, had her fingers inching towards his half-eaten snack as she slowly scooted up to him but he protected his treat from her clutches. A defiant hiss from her end had him smirking to her failed attempt to steal from him in plain sight and she stroked her stomach as she pouted mournfully, "I hate feeling hungry all the time and I know I'm not pregnant-"
"Would you stop saying bold words?" he scolded sternly before people heard her words, even if they were low in tone, and pulled her onto the bench in one yank. He would have to write her a vocabulary list of banned words if she wanted to utter just about anything. Malik simply shook his head to their antics but they had been rather well behaved today, he might just leave them alone tonight and catch up on his nightly reading. He missed being able to climb onto the rooftops to enjoy his favorite pastime but the two made it bearable within a bedroom as they brought the entertainment themselves.
"What isn't forbidden nowadays? What's next, I can't say pants? Underwear? Tampons?" she hissed darkly against his ear as she hated censoring herself and crossed her arms huffily, her robes puffing comically in return. Altaïr merely flicked her ear with sticky fingers to quiet her whines, enjoying the little disgusted whimper from her lips when he left it sticky. Great, now she really needed a bath. Her stomach grumbled to signal that it was hungry and she patted it to simmer its rumbles, looking to the assassin with humorously large eyes to plead with him, "I will happily feign a pregnancy if it brings me food. I'll even name it after you or it can be yours-"
He simply stared at her petty begging with a wry expression and leaned his head back against the limestone building to remark to the blue sky above, "If my descendant replays this specific memory one day, I give him full permission to slay you without losing synchronization with my memories."
"He won't, he stopped after your lovey dovey time with Maria and he found a better ancestor with an Italian assassin who is quite more eloquent than you" she informed cheekily to verbally stab his comment with one of hers and smiled dreamily to the heavens above them just to rile him. Ezio did have a gorgeous mane of hair while Altaïr kept his shortly cropped. Altaïr snorted disdainfully to her words and the idea that there was a better assassin out there who was stronger and smarter than him, leading him to frown when she gushed with a feminine sigh, "Oh, what I'd give to be his sidekick. Hmm, I wouldn't mind warming his bed, holding him like a big ol' teddy bear, and-"
Altaïr hauled her back toward the inn before she was declared a harlot but she stopped him just as they reached the door, clinging to his arm like a stubborn cat. These were the times when he wondered whether he was dealing with a sane human. Her feet didn't budge from the ground as she held him back with all of her strength, the man was a mountain in strength while she was a flea, and hissed softly in reminder, "What about the bucket heads? They could walk in while we're eating downstairs, I should head up and give you the all clear so you can bring in Malik."
"She's right, we might have to do a little room cleaning before we leave" Malik stated quietly since he wouldn't feel comfortable sleeping in the same building with their mortal enemies. It was best to execute any that returned to meet with the others in that same room or locking it tightly to make sure none entered, as long as his group was able to leave by morning undetected. They couldn't afford to be discovered or reinforcements would more than likely be inbound and hoped that they'd covered their trails flawlessly back in Cairo by making the deaths seem like muggings.
"Leave it to me" Vivian offered giddily to finally playing bad cop against a bad guy and tapped her fingers together in evil contemplation to smirk confidently, "When it comes to interrogation ideas, movies and games have served me well."
Altaïr shot her a frigid glare because he didn't want her meddling in assassin business and she shrunk under its ferocity, her fingers intertwining together as she mumbled weakly, "I can."
"I don't want you involved" he stated firmly to keep her out of danger with the Templars because trailing and double identities were fine but he didn't want her face-to-face with one. Vivian's independent nature was ready to argue but her logic reasoned with his since she was a civilian, untrained to disarm anyone, and her shoulders slumped as she regrettably agreed with him. Malik found the peaceful consensus surprising, given their bickering for the past weeks but remained proud of their progress while hoping they stayed that way.
Vivian couldn't help but feel disappointed that they wouldn't reach the pyramids that day and would keep her excitement running for tomorrow, gazing over the azure horizon to catch a beige peak of the ancient structures. It was surreal to stand in one of Earth's ancient cities, millions of miles away from her home (which was entirely unreachable) and tried to cheer herself up, "I'm hungry enough to eat a water buffalo so it won't be pretty seeing me eat. Remember, careful with your fingers. . . Altaïr."
He grumbled inaudibly under his breath in reminder to an incident at the Gaza strip bureau where she'd grabbed bread and hadn't noticed his fingers searching within the bowl also. Her hungriness hastened her speed and she'd grabbed a roll, along with his fingers wrapped around it, and had almost taken a bite out of him but he'd managed to pull away in time.
"Let's go eat, the live-in renters say tonight's soup is delicious" she piped up excitedly to the aspect of hot yummy food that they didn't have to make or accidentally burn over an open fire. They weren't rich adventurers, or even decent in financial wealth, and enjoyed the little things in life as each coin they earned kept them fed to fight another day. She headed for the door to get things started for the night and smiled mischievously as her lie for Malik's free food came into play, "After all, an expectant mother is hungry enough to eat for three."
Altaïr would have to watch that sly little badger, she had a flourishing talent that could exploit their enemies. . .and earn them some heavy discounts.
A/N: It's fun to see Vivian and Altaïr getting along for a change rather than ripping each other apart. This is where we finally start to see Vivian take her first steps into helping her companions rather than keep back as she braves this new world she's fallen into. Of course, Altaïr will never really give her a weapon to use for fear she'd chop them all up (including herself). Next time, we'll have a Templar interrogation and their first trip to the pyramids where Malik gets a glimpse to the chaos the Altaïr-Vivian alliance can create, leading to Malik being kidnapping.
Thank you guys for your reviews for the last chapter, you've made this story number 2 in my story updating rankings. I appreciate each review, fav story, and story alert as it lets me know you guys like the story- and I'm more than happy to present it.
papertowel1567: Vivian's pretty much going to play matchmaker to get him some lovin' while they're stationed throughout towns. Malik totally deserves time away from the bickering twosome.
DesertPaint: Yep, they're on the road to friendship as their adventures will bind them. Altaïr is grumpy, yes, but he can be quite graceful since he treats women respectfully and although Vivian pisses him off, he'll give her same courtesy.
ShizukaRen-Hime: I'm sure the matchbox room was one Malik will never forget and yes, you were totally supposed to imagine Vivian as that poor little calf or enraged badger. Altaïr has tied the poor woman enough to make her feel like one.
Lostwithoutdoubt: Yes, the fact that Vivian's not your average 12th century traveler was enough to give Altaïr an entire monologue (maybe even a book titled 'All My Problems') about his mistrust about her. I just don't see Altaïr trusting anyone that claims to be from another dimension or the future quite so easily until they prove themselves to show their worth. Obviously, Vivian can't fight at all but her knowledge helps him out of a bind. You're right, their underlying issues aren't entirely solved since Altaïr believes he makes his own path while Vivian will keep telling him his destiny's predetermined due to her gaming brain and that will pop up later on.
Kallios the Scholar: Thanks for loving the story and dropping by with the view, I do my 'happy dance' every time I see one. lol
Foreverafter: Altaïr's peace treaties start off by locking the parties in a room until they're exhausted enough to agree with him. I'm glad you love the humor, I'm always adding in stuff and creating others for the next chapters. I'm currently working on the first draft of the Sudan chapter where Vivian gives Altaïr his first haircut.
KrnYong: Oh yeah, Altaïr is a complete bed hog and he shamelessly admits it. I think I'll be writing a chapter where he accidentally punches her in the eye and she returns it so they match. They're off to a better friendship now that they've cleared the air but the humorous jabs will be there as Altaïr learns about the anomaly called 'humor'.
NeverGoodbyeRoxas: Altaïr was pretty harsh on her at the beginning since his trust was a bit unstable after the whole Al Mualim betrayal and Vivian's sudden appearance was enough to make him keep her under his tight watch. Now that they've knocked it out of the way in that little room, they can flourish while also jabbing quips at each other. Altaïr is hilarious when it comes to apologizing because yes, it's a completely new thing for him and Vivian didn't enjoy being wrapped like cattle or dragged around until she gave in. We'll be having more character growth along the way but so far, Malik is the only one that's perfect just the way he is.
Marli-chan Tuchanka: I'm glad you loved it, everyone had their share of humor as poor Malik got stuck in a tiny mop closet.
Next Time: It's Friendship, Just A Perfect Blendship!
Their conclusions proved correct when one Templar decided to visit his dead buddy in the room next door, causing Altaïr to utilize Vivian's acting abilities when he had her pop out from their room to scare away the Templar by trying to lure him into their bedroom. Unfortunately, the man ran away from Vivian's odd advances as she'd dressed like a normal woman of her time during summertime with a toga-like dress of her robe. Both assassins didn't know whether to be relieved or shocked to what actually happened, leading Altaïr to tease poor Vivian about lacking feminine wiles. A poke to his left eye silenced him since reciprocation would've had the two assassins brandishing weapons to kill the Templar.
Of course, when another Templar wandered in later at night by bypassing open the wooden latch, the group had to jump into action. Besides, who would believe a Templar was out and about in the town at dark rather than plotting the demise of humankind in their tiny 'evil fortress of doom'? Altaïr had decided that killing the Templar within the room and sealing it shut from all intruders would be the best bed and before sunrise, they would head out under the gaze of twilight to escape with a head start to the pyramids.
"All right, let's get this started" Vivian grinned mischievously as she prepared to lure out the wolf from its den in the next room, smoothing her fingers over her fixed robe. They were going with the old 'damsel can't open a jar' ploy to beckon their enemy out of the den and Altaïr stressed for her to look decent but innocent. Of course, this meant a snug robe outlining her figure with a face that would allure a man of that time- characteristics she lacked. The traveling Vivian preferred loose clothing, more on the pants and tunic side, while her fair face holding streaks of sunburns brought none of that. Nonetheless, the upbeat historian swayed her hips alluringly to try out her amateur charming tactics while cocking her head to the side with a wide smile.
Altaïr's eyebrow simply rose to the tragically awful charm skills, her movements reminding him of an insane person wandering the docks of Acre, and bluntly stated, "I said attract him, not repel him with an eyesore."
She punched him on the bicep for the smartass comment since he lacked female anatomy to do the job and left their room to knock on the Templar's door. Her gentle knocking did nothing to draw him out and she ditched her charming persona to turn into the woeful 'lady in distress' because it had never failed Vivian. Dragon Age: Origins had taught her enough to fake her illnesses. Her soft knocking transformed into banging as she struck the door loudly enough to catch his attention, hearing surprised sounds from within and footsteps in her direction. Voila! Seconds later, gruff male mumbles and an unlatched door had her face-to-face with a sleepy Templar that lacked any armor on- thank goodness he kept his pants on. It was strange seeing the enemy so casual, almost wistful as to why humankind kept fighting amongst themselves when they bled the same, but she had to remember the kind of things they did and kept her mask in place.
Immediately, Vivian reached for the man's arm on the door latch for aid as she declared woefully with dramatic flair, "Please, sir! I need help, my brother, he's been stabbed!"
The half-asleep man that stood over blinked lazily and pointed to the stairway towards the left that led downstairs and pointed out simply, "Isn't this a matter for the owner-"
"No time, you must come and help! I need a strong man because I'm utterly helpless! Please!" she exclaimed desperately and added a little feminine pout to see if it would help matters, pushing her arms together to lift her bosom and show a little cleavage. Well, dramatic soap operas did come in handy sometimes. She fought not to barf when the man's brow rose to her 'innocent' posture and seized his unguarded stance to lead him towards their bedroom as she mumbled nonsensical sentences about Malik's 'condition' to alert her friends.
That clever little badger, Altaïr mused with approval to her acting talent and decided that he would teach her defensive training once they had a moment of peace within a campsite.
At this point, Altaïr was searching for a place to hide as Malik decided to play the injured party by throwing himself face down on the bed. His entire body slacked as he feigned a stab wound, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed as one arm clutched the bedspread and the other was held over his stomach. Altaïr had to admire the ingenuity of the two as they changed the plan without a problem, wishing he held their acting talent, and hid behind the door of their personal bath. From there, he would watch and wait for his target to find the perfect time to strike without endangering his companions. He needed answers so knocking him unconscious was best but if not, death would be the only alternative.
Vivian ran in with hasty steps alongside the disgruntled Templar, pointing with grief on her face as Malik played dead and implored him to help her brother. She waited carefully until the enemy leaned over her friend to grab a nearby clay vase that rested on the table to strike like a mother cobra. This is what movies taught you, right? Using all her strength, she brought it down with all of her strength over the man's head and the vase shattered into small jagged pieces as it rained down upon his shoulders. The man grunted in pain to the unsuspecting attack but fell over the bed limply as he became unconscious from the blunt impact.
Malik was just glad he hadn't fallen on top of him as he quickly rolled off of it to move somewhere safe and brushed off any lingering debris from the vase, the tiny particles making no noise when they struck the floor. Altaïr quickly left his hiding spot to close the door before anyone heard the ruckus and decided to investigate, approaching his comrades. Vivian stared at her hands with stunned disbelief for what she'd done since attacking people day after day was a new change of schedule to her old routine of studying at the university but knew that being in Altaïr's company would constantly bring that. This was a fast approaching change in her life and she didn't know whether she liked or hated it, almost worried for the former.
Why can't it be like Ezio where we can hire factions for this?, she thought glumly since Altaïr wasn't one to play nice with others and preferred to work with his order alone. If anything, he was spoiled by being the best of the best and liked it that way. She looked around to find him for their next phase of the plan and jumped back with a small yelp when he appeared directly behind her like a phantom, her hand clutching her chest immediately from his silent approach. Why won't he stop doing that?
"You did well, Vivian" he encouraged since attacking people wasn't her calling in life and squeezed her right shoulder in support since she was a naïve soul in his world. She wasn't meant to attack people directly and he would rather have her as a decoy to bait their enemies, serving a support role while he ambushed their enemies to deal the killing blow.
Thank you for reading my story and please, leave a review to let Altaïr nibble on it.