Fellowship of the POE
"So you really received lodgings for returning stolen gold and jewelry?" Altaïr asked skeptically to the news of free lodgings for the night, eyeing everything inside the room with extreme suspicion. His friends had informed him that their delivery of the stolen loot to Giza's administrators had indeed drawn inquisitive questions but the trio had framed the Raj thieves as the culprits, leaving a few dead bodies at the Queen's chambers while placing the Templars outside as if they'd died in the crossfire in a looting gone bad. Pinning the two as enemies rather than allies had been easy, strewing some loot around the floor and framing weapons on the dead bodies had been a piece of cake since forensic technology was nonexistent. Watching too much CSI came in handy for Vivian and she'd played the dutiful wife once more as she and Malik happened upon the gory scene on their route to the city. A guard headed out to verify their claims when Vivian insisted they check thoroughly with dramatic flair and voila, a nice thank you for all of the returned Egyptian loot gave them a free night in an inn next to their building.
"With Malik regaling the story and tweaking it for security purposes while I reenacted it with sound effects, we practically gave them the entertainment for the night and earned a stay" Vivian grinned proudly and chowed down sweet grapes with a happy smile since she'd stayed inside the inn taking a bath in the private room while Malik had joined Altaïr for their super-secret meeting. She insisted that he be on his best behavior to ensure a stable future alliance with the thieves and had sent him with a nice doggie bag of food to seal it (he wasn't happy looking like a courier). His dealings with the thieves' guild would be a step forward at staying on top of the Templars and she was proud of his progress. She sat at the table with her dish of deliciously warm food, joyous to the fresh dishes, and smiled towards the filled table to inform, "We have food that doesn't need cooking by us for the night, why do you think I sent you with the bag? The rest is ours so rejoice."
Altaïr, being the cautious man that he was, didn't trust the room at all and grabbed a nearby night table to haul it in front of the door to prevent any trespassing. Vivian could only stare with surprised eyes as the man simply lifted it like a mere feather while she would've broken her back in two places if she dared. Neither she nor Malik said anything since it was best to be prepared and watched him use a blanket to loop through the metal openings of the closed windows to seal out any intruders that could open the wooden lock. He made sure everything was closed to prevent enemies from surprising them and Vivian held her tongue on asking how they would escape if they were chased out of Giza. After the day they'd had, it was best to simply let him have this victory as he eyed his handiwork with pride fit for a mighty eagle.
"And if anyone asks, Vivian and I are married explorers searching for adventure while making our way north to Greece with our maps" Malik informed their friend about their characters while Altaïr eyed a plump roasted hen with a wolfish gleam in his eyes. He handed the man a plate before he began to drool in his spot so he could have a decent meal since their last had been the dinner Vivian had swiped for them with her pregnancy act. It felt nice to be rewarded for their good deeds and doubted it was poisoned since Vivian had been eating relentlessly since they left her over an hour ago. Most poisons worked rather quickly and only the most painful took their long agonizing time so with Vivian chugging down everything in sight without stop, he was in the clear.
The assassin grabbed the whole hen to pile it onto his plate in comparison to Vivian, who'd grabbed a piece of the breast only, and smirked at the two to preen, "You two are still married?"
"Jealous because I took ownership of your pet eagle in the divorce?" she laughed merrily and they all shared a laugh, glad to be away from the pyramid and the windy desert itself.
"I have a falcon and unless anybody has a death wish, he will be untouched" he reminded matter-of-factly as he swallowed a mouthful of black beans, his stomach happily gurgling for the food. Each portion was hot and fresh, perfectly seasoned, and he felt at home for the first time in weeks since leaving Masyaf. Vivian grinned like a sly fox from her chair beside him and poked his arm with her index finger with an innocent smile, leading him to bat her away with a simple, "Stop that."
"Only if you give me the falcon in our divorce" she grinned mischievously and took a deep bite of her hen piece to strike fear into him of what she could do to Rafiki. His starving and wolfish bites on the plump hen slowed down, his bite marks clearly apparent on the poor bird, as he watched her with narrowed eyes that were almost comical. Patting her stomach with her forearm since her hands were occupied and greasy, she implied evilly with a grin, "I'll give him a good home."
"You'll be skewered on my blade before you do" he threatened lightly because he was entirely sure that she'd never hurt an animal, much less his. His time alongside Vivian had shown her as a caring individual towards them (she'd grieved over the poor fat bug she'd squashed hours ago) and that benevolence carried to people as well since she refused to cut anyone down with a weapon. After everything that happened since morning, he ignored the metal eating utensil on his plate as he cast meal etiquette to the wind and ate with his fingers alone as the warm delicious- most importantly, fresh- food was a great reward for his empty stomach. Vivian handed him flat wheat bread from the basket and he took it with a grateful nod, biting into it with food still in his mouth. He didn't care if he appeared messy and a little uncivilized but when he was hungry enough to eat a grown camel, people's opinions didn't matter. Vivian's face, however, betrayed innocent amusement rather than disgust or apprehension as she followed his lead to fit right in. It almost made him laugh. . .almost.
"Then I'll await a glorious death" she grinned wittily and filled a glass with water, sliding it over to him while refilling hers because the endless walking had brought intense thirst. That chamber pot in the back would be in definite use tonight. She handed him a clean cloth to wipe his hands for when he finished his meal, neatly folding it on his right side, and passed him the wooden bowl containing the black beans when Malik finished pouring himself another serving. The woman had incredible mannerisms, he'd give her that much, and nodded to her in thanks. She pointed to another metal jug that sat behind the last hen left on the table and informed him, "There's red wine in that, if you'd like some. Malik hit it pretty hard thinking it was juice and. . .well, he has stains to wash out tomorrow."
Malik used his cloth napkin to swipe at her head, bringing laughter from the three companions as they enjoyed a well-deserved meal. Now that was a moment Vivian could cherish since no danger, anger, or fear was involved- just simple endearing camaraderie. They shared tales about meals from their pasts where Vivian explained a corndog experience that left her without a baby tooth, Malik on how he'd eaten salty broth and the toughest meat imaginable to man within it during a trip to Damascus, and Altaïr on eating a raw fish when he couldn't find enough kindling for a fire. Their evening was filled with heartwarming stories and gentle joking as they laughed at memories from their current trip- namely, Altaïr's accidental destruction of a store booth and Vivian's ripped robes (Malik's lost beard was still too fresh for the poor man).
When Vivian finished her meal, she left the table with a plump stomach befitting a third month pregnancy and washed up to retire for the night because she was completely pooped. She clapped her hands to find their comfy beds for the night with a happy smile that they had a bed to sleep in because tomorrow, they would be using camp sites. First, they'd had delicious food and now a comfy bed awaited them for sweet sleeping, sighing aloud blissfully, "For now, we sleep on a normal bed. . .wait. . ."
There was only one bed.
She'd distinctly asked for two as she faked their cultural customs required two to sleep separately so they'd all have a bed to share when Altaïr climbed in for the night. He cackled evilly to the new problem, his fist slamming on the table with jovial humor to her baffled expression as she stared at the small bed and grinned to tease her, "And now, the downfall of your schemes, little historian."
She stuffed a roll of bread into his mouth as she groaned to finally receiving decent lodgings but with a downside. Well, when life gave you lemons, make lemonade. Altaïr had half a mind to spit out the roll back at her face but the move was rather smart and sweet in taste, chewing into the bread to feed himself instead. She tapped her right food thoughtfully as her mind came up with an answer and mused aloud, "Well, we'll just share a bed and before you start screaming, beds can be shared for sleep. I mean, really, do all of you see each other as starving lusty animals that need to mate constantly?"
She began to fluff the straw mattress for an easier sleep as the two men were ready to defend their side but she continued, "A bed is made for sleeping and that's what I'm going to do. Besides, there's nothing attractive about this time when men don't bathe regularly, maintain decent hygiene, and keep the same change of clothes day after day. I mean, who wants to sleep next to a man or woman that smells like leathery burnt bacon or something?"
"I have more than one change of clothes. . .and I don't smell!" Altair insisted with offense about his assassin garb but kept his mouth shut on how many for risk of more arguments from her. He'd already nabbed parts of the robes she'd arrived in for extra pieces because dirt in that era was just about everywhere and the color white wasn't easy to maintain. As for the other part, well, he did the best he could when a bath was available.
"Not to mention that one of you snores like a furious bear" she tattled innocently with a mischievous gleam in her eye as she gazed at him and opened her pack to grab a new set of clothes. Although women wore robes in that era to conform, Vivian felt wonderfully free in pants and a tunic for sleeping rather than a gown. That, and the last time she wore one was on the night she shared a room with Altaïr and by morning, it had ridden up to her thighs. She wasn't about to be indecent in any way with the stoic assassin or friendly dai and hugged her bundle close as she added in with an amused smile, "And I'm not a prize pig either so I'm not immune with my own scents. All right, I'm going to go change so you two can fight on who gets the open slot."
Altaïr quickly shook his head as she declared a spot for herself automatically and demanded with a frown, "Wait, why do you get the spot?"
"Because I'm a lady and despite my time would have no complaint on two men sharing a bed, a lady must be present in this time so HA!" she declared victoriously because homosexuality had a horrible stigma in that era but this was their time and she couldn't exactly start preaching otherwise. Quickly, she scampered off to change before the assassin could grab her since his hands were still dirty. Curse that little imp!
With an inaudible grumble, he headed to the washing bowl set on the night table and scrubbed his hands clean of the remnants from his good meal. Altaïr growled under his breath for having to fight for a bed as he reminded himself on his peace treaty, "Can't kill her, can't kill her, promised to protect her."
Vivian retreated to an area that held a simple maroon curtain as a changing screen but thanked her lucky stars that it was away from the bedroom, which would've increased her discomfort level. Despite she was from the future, Vivian was never comfortable changing anywhere (not even inside locker rooms or a doctor's office) and the past carried the same feeling. Thankfully, the two forgot that she was still in the room and tried not to laugh as she heard them fighting about the sleeping spot.
Malik placed his empty plate on top of the other two, sipping one last taste from the good burgundy wine in his goblet and teased, "Altaïr, I'd find myself very surprised if you ever touched a hair on her head."
The other man wiped his hands clean of foamy soap in the bowl but turned his head to the side and scoffed with mock disdain, "I could. . .I just choose not to waste my energy like that."
With that said, he wiped his hands on the towel next to the bowl and jumped into the bed before Malik could make a mad dash for it. The assassin tucked his hands neatly behind his head as his body immediately melted against the soft bedding and grinned triumphantly, "I win. You get the duvet, enjoy."
"You're willing to sleep next to a woman you abhor?" he asked skeptically to his craftiness at stealing the spot but after the endless climbing the man had done, Malik relinquished his candidacy. Being a bachelor, Malik was accustomed to being the only one in bed and just like Altaïr traveled over the bed to steal the covers for himself, Vivian always sought to latch onto someone in her subconscious sleep so he was best left alone. Malik was the best companion to take a nap beside since snoring was the most he did and didn't have the tendency to roll over to crush someone. Poor Vivian would wake with sore limbs by the morning.
"My friend, I'm just as surprised as you are but after facing the elements at every inn while you and Vivian share a bed- it's my time" he replied casually with a smug grin as he pulled down his white hood to relax for the night, closing his eyes briefly to enjoy the idyllic moment. He sorely needed a bath and wondered where it was since Vivian had already had the pleasure (her squeaky clean hair a dead giveaway) but hoped the bathwater wasn't filthy. That would sorely kill his chances at bathing happily. He waved a dismissive hand as Malik washed his hands in the bowl to rid himself of the oils on his fingers and watched as his leader stated cheekily, "Besides, I keep her in check while you let her do as she wishes. For all I know, you'll be proposing marriage by dawn or letting her adopt a stray dog to bring along."
Malik's figurative feathers were ruffled to his friend's insinuation, resisting the urge to dump the greasy water over his head, and disagreed, "You think my self-control is weaker than yours? The mere idea is laughable . . . and she's like a sister- it sounds wrong on many levels!"
The dai left the grinning assassin so he could fix his own bed on the couch-like furniture (at least it was roomy) and grabbed a bundle of linen blankets that Vivian had removed from the bed to unfold them. One thing about having a second arm was the ease of fixing bedcovers but now, he simply used his legs to wrap them around his body comfortably. In Masyaf, he was neat with his bedding or had a recruit do it for him as a chore but away from home, it didn't matter. Altaïr fiddled through his leather pack to fetch his night clothes and a handy bar of soap to take a bath with, the soap falling out of his hand when the dai declared smugly, "You're just jealous that she abhors you while I am her favorite on this trip."
Altaïr's ego was poked with a hot stick, stirring the sleeping eagle from its nest, and he retorted, "I already have her friendship . . . we just seem to use banter for our conversations. But for the record, my life exists as a fictional story so for one who knows much, she must find me interesting by default."
Malik didn't take the bait because his words proved that he wasn't as irritated as he normally appeared with the woman and hid the humor in his voice as he stated nonchalantly with a grin, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Altaïr. I'm almost inclined to believe you want to become her friend."
Altaïr was ready to debate that topic to the death but Vivian returned wearing loose black trousers that swept over the floor with their long length and a brown tunic. She'd explained a while back that women could dress that way for sleeping in her time but since she was sharing a room with them, he made an exception since she stuck to gowns inside her private tent. She appeared like an adolescent boy as the clothes fit her petite frame rather loosely, completely hiding her feminine figure as her face and fingers displayed her gender. Her shoulder-length ebony hair had finished drying from her bath and framed her oval face in wavy tendrils, sharply contrasting those emerald orbs filled with mirth. He'd never noticed how small her feet were as she walked barefoot across the floor, certain that one would fit in his hand easily and raised his gaze back to hers to state simply, "You look like a prepubescent boy."
"And you're a giant" she quipped back with a good-natured laugh just as easily since she wasn't about to be wearing any naughty nightwear to bed and was happy in the loose clothing. Instead of receiving a frown, she saw a smirk forming on his lips and wondered whether that was a 'good job' or an 'I'll get you' smirk. The tension he'd held earlier in the day was gone from his face and she was glad for it, not eager to sleep next to a tiger on the prowl.
He stood up from the bed with regret from his aching shoulders and grabbed his bundle of fresh clothes to inform his companions, "I'll be in the bath. If I don't come out in an hour, you have permission to check whether I've drowned due to exhaustion."
"Permission to resuscitate by mouth-to-mouth without receiving a punch?" Vivian piped up quickly with a mischievous smile as she rolled back the long sleeves of the tunic. Altaïr decided to make his bath quick before he did end up in a compromising position with the woman that would bring him mortification till his dying day. He gave her a steadfast negative as he headed to the back of the room where a wooden bath was located, another curtain providing privacy but splashing would still be heard. For Altaïr, this was a natural everyday way of bathing while it unnerved Vivian to how close everything was inside the room- that, and the lack of doors.
Vivian tried not to dwell on what would occur behind that lucky curtain because a muscular assassin dousing himself in sudsy warm water was enough to skip her normal heart rhythm and leave her drooling permanently. She shook her head to clear those lecherous thoughts away because although it was all in good fun and fangirly moments, she couldn't dare to actually form any sort of feelings for the man. It was easier to prevent that by using her sarcastic defense and his constant frowning helped tremendously since being together 24/7 could grant her immunity.
"I can empty some of the water and fill it so you won't have to bear with all our daily muck, especially Altaïr's" Vivian offered helpfully with a smile as she bundled their packs in a corner of the room to prevent tripping over them at night. She and Malik had been unlucky participants on a trip to the floor during stays at inns since Altaïr tended to leave his clutter all over the floor and they weren't granted eagle vision to pierce the darkness. Whenever Malik appeared to need help, she offered without question since having to ask could make someone feel inadequate internally and she wanted to help her friend without requiring communication. It was a sisterly act that helped the two bond since the dai helped her on many topics to fit into society since Altaïr was already occupied enough with his own tasks.
Malik headed to the changing curtain with his bundle of gray sleepwear tucked underneath his arm and yawned softly to decline, "I'll take one in the morning, I'm much too tired. It will keep me fresh against the morning heat when we retrieve the canoe."
Vivian nodded hastily and returned to her bed with eager feet, throwing herself onto it with childish glee for the soft bedding. Smooth hay or not, it wasn't the hard ground that contained tiny pebbles that dug into her back and she couldn't believe just how far she'd gone down from that modern comfortable mattress in her room. Her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the drawers of the night tables to peruse through the contents hidden within as she ached to know what Egyptians kept there for their guests. A few random buttons, clean paper, and little straps of leather- she swiped them all with a sneaky little smile. Malik watched her quiet perusing when he exited the changing room as she sorted through the drawers but said nothing because once she was in the zone of looting, it was hard to make her stop. When she popped open the third drawer, Vivian forced herself not to take anything because she was well on her way to full-blown kleptomania (and a stern Altaïr lecture) but her discovery brought her immense joy.
A hairbrush!
At Masyaf, Malik had given her a wooden comb that the men used to comb their hair since women were rarely seen inside Masyaf unless they were spouses or secret informants. They didn't have time to visit the village since the two had been ready to depart the following morning and Vivian could barely grab hold of any decent items to fill her leather knapsack with. Now, she carried three like the packrat she was and drew stares from travelers everywhere since women weren't supposed to carry heavy things while resembling a tortoise.
Happily, she brushed her dry hair to free it of tangles and smiled widely as the fine hairs went through every strand of her tresses rather than the comb that slid through it all. Malik let her be with her new discovery and headed towards his duvet, throwing his day clothes over one end and grabbed the blankets to settle into bed. The material of the duvet was softer than anything he'd been on in months, probably even softer than his own bed at Masyaf, and smiled like a happy little boy as he wrapped the blankets around himself. He'd be glad to sleep for eight hours this time and hoped Altaïr wouldn't make them wake at the crack of dawn.
Altaïr didn't take long in his bath, washing away all of the sweat and grime gathered from his daily travel but the lukewarm water barely soothed his tired muscles. Either way, having a clean body was better than carrying all of it into the next day and he had tried not to slip on the puddles Vivian left in her wake because the woman had yet to adjust to bathing in their time. She was like a child with her washing and he removed that image from his head immediately before it burned his mind. One thing he appreciated was that she always carried a bottle of oil containing a mix of almond and lavender to use on her skin during their travels, grabbing the bottle she'd left behind next to the wooden tub. He loved using it since the windy desert had left his skin feeling parched and the aromatic scents soothed him instantly, relaxing his muscles as he rubbed it into his skin to work out any knots. She was always reading books on natural remedies as they traveled, heading into market stalls to ask for any, and reminded himself to fetch her one when they hit another settlement.
The lack of his light armor and robes was a relief as he slipped into his clothes for the night, feeling like an ordinary man in the world for the next hour until he fell asleep. With his robes folded neatly in his arms, he returned to the room to find half of the glass lanterns extinguished as Malik had decided to turn in for the night while Vivian sat with a content smile on her face. Why wasn't he surprised? She swung a small hair brush made of dark horse hair and hopped off the bed to approach him with a jovial smile to her new find, "Look what I found."
"Yes, it's called a hairbrush, a very nice invention of ours" the assassin informed sarcastically to her child-like glee over something trivial and she gently struck his left shoulder blade with the brush. Did he really think they lacked hair brushes in her time? He tried to wrench it out of her hands with his right as he dropped his robes at the end of the bed before they fell but she wriggled out of his reach as she ran for it, her bare feet making no sound as she scuttled off.
Malik smirked to their antagonistic behavior as it provided decent entertainment and bid them good night because he wasn't getting involved, "I wish you both a very peaceful night and won't be held responsible for any deaths."
Vivian held the hairbrush like a lion tamer would their whip as Altaïr uttered a small growl before stomping off to put away his clothes on the nearest chair. Her brow rose curiously when she watched him place his clothes on a wooden chair with care, his fingers neatly smoothing out any wrinkles. She let him be with his nightly routine and returned to cuddling the bed, thanking the Egyptians for their more comfortable mattresses than those in other places she'd been to. For the private moment left to her, she rested in the center of the bed on her stomach as she spread out her limbs like a lazy sunbathing starfish.
"Please don't dust off your clothes until the morning" Vivian murmured softly as the comfortable bedding beckoned her to dreamland where she'd run alongside fat succulent sheep. By lunchtime tomorrow, she'd be eating a part of that poor animal since Altaïr had an affinity for lamb while grains or chicken was used for dinner for a lighter meal. Truly, she was eating foods she never would've in her own time and promised to hit the nearest Syrian and Egyptian restaurant when she returned to Berkeley in a toast to her adventures. For now, however, she'd pretend to be a starfish in the middle of a sandy beach with the stars twinkling above her.
That's how Altaïr found her when he returned to bed and he jabbed a rough finger into her ribs to get her moving because if anyone would hog the bed, it would be him. She squeaked in surprise to his intrusive poke to her right side and turned around to grasp his hand between both of hers to stop a further onslaught. If he discovered she was ticklish, she'd never see the end of it because his reach and strength outmatched hers. His fingers were calloused from years of climbing and fighting, contrasting against her smooth palms with their roughness and she gasped with a hearty laugh to the texture, "Good lord, your hands are like sandpaper. You should use them against enemies, rub their skin raw or give them a bad rash."
Malik burst into laughter from his spot across the room to the strange fighting tactic and teased playfully, "Hands to yourselves, I don't want any friskiness between you two because I'm quite fond of my sanity. With that said, I bid you goodnight and leave me be."
Vivian chuckled to his joke as she moved to the side to settle into a fetal position while the assassin fell onto the bed on his back, dropping like a sack of potatoes despite wearing no armor. He didn't realize how tired he really was until he blew out the lantern next to him to bathe the entire room in darkness and his muscles ached at the single movement, not caring in the slightest as he collapsed into the bed again. She jabbed his lower leg with a defiant foot as he sunk the mattress with that force and almost knocked her into his side, grasping a blanket for herself since he'd stolen all of them the last time they slept in the same bed. He was a messy Bessy with his bed, leaving it like a tornado had blown through everything but he was meticulous enough to fix it perfectly in its original position by morning.
A hint of almond struck her nose and she smiled into her pillow to whisper sneakily, "You smell nice. . .like a sweet freshly picked almond baked-"
"No descriptive tales tonight, Vivian" Altaïr hushed from his side of the bed as he lay on his back and ran his fingers through his damp short hair, not in the mood to hear descriptive stories. The quick cool bath and the warm bedding were the perfect end result of a hard day's work and he'd start studying the new piece of Eden once they left Egypt to make sure nobody interfered.
Vivian grumbled under her breath as her fun came to an end for the day, shifting in her cozy bedcovers as she mumbled sleepily, "Fine, but I will redeem this conversation one day when you least expect it. You will be sleeping and pow!- there I am holding a fish that I used to slap you with and inquire its history. Or should you be napping in camp, bam!- I wake you to regale you with a tale fit for kings. Or maybe-"
"I open the window and toss you out to sleep with the chickens?" he quipped in return with a stern tone because with Vivian, he'd damn well better expect it. Luckily, his detection skills would find her before she even came close to approaching him and he had in several instances. The first had been a week after leaving Masyaf and she'd tried to use a feather to tickle his nose to make him sneeze. She'd failed when he threw a small pebble at her, stopping her dead in her tracks as it struck her straight in the center of the forehead. The second had been before entering Egypt when he refused a visit to a bookstore, disappointing both Malik and Vivian, and they'd taken revenge by stealing his armor at night to hide it throughout camp. With Malik's help, his detection failed to catch her and it was only a matter of time before the duo attempted another try because he was a stickler for keeping on schedule without detours.
Either way, the badger was silenced and he closed his eyes to fall asleep.
Moonlight filtered into the pitch black room and when Vivian was certain Malik was asleep (it wasn't hard to hear him), she smiled cheekily and scratched an itchy spot on her butt that had been bugging her. Night certainly did offer freedoms and privacy that the daytime couldn't. Altaïr, however, had failed to fall asleep within those fifteen minutes that she'd meticulously waited for as exhaustion slowly trickled him to slumber and the noise down there had drawn his attention immediately. Why. . .why was this happening to him? He stared at the ceiling with wide disbelieving eyes, refusing to glance at her to avoid seeing something indecent if he switched to eagle vision and requested stiffly between gritted teeth, "Could you finish that quickly? I'm still awake."
She flinched in mortified surprise since he usually fell dead like a toy without its batteries whenever the lights turned off and quickly scooted back to her sleeping position to begin sleeping. Her ears burned at the horrible embarrassment that he'd heard that but the damage was done and thankfully, the itch had been vanquished. Unfortunately, her mind had other ideas and she lay in bed wide awake while the other two slept soundly to wipe their long day out of their minds. She probably shouldn't have eaten so close to bedtime but what could she do after. . .by Dumbledore's beard did that assassin smell wonderful. She growled mentally for having that thought burst in since she couldn't close her nose and hoped her own scent was bothering hm. Had the man basted himself in the oil like a chicken and glistened. . .no, she would not head in that tantalizing direction either!
After the assassin did fall asleep, she missed Malik sharing the bed since his snoring was lighter than Altaïr's and she groaned miserably into her soft pillow at having to sleep next to the bear man. She'd experienced this during her first day in Jerusalem and had only managed about three hours of sleep before he'd kicked her awake. How could the strong admirable Maria dare to brave this monstrous snoring for the rest of her days? Would she grow deaf and blissfully immune to his nagging? He sounded like an old rusty shredder that had swallowed metal rubble and a furious bear was trapped inside that metal. For all of his awesomeness and badassery, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had a thunderous snore to match.
She mumbled pitifully under her breath but yelped aloud the next second when Altaïr struck her in the eye subconsciously with his fisted left hand as he mumbled, "Templars."
She held her eye painfully since the man dealt some serious firepower in his strike despite being asleep and rubbed her sore skin, pushing back tears as it throbbed. Sitting up, she cursed her luck because she'd more than likely need a hood to cover it up by morning and wondered just how strong the man was if that little unconscious swat left her staggering with pain. In her anger, she pulled her right arm back and punched him on the opposite side so he would match her 'more than likely' purple eye. It wasn't strong enough to match his, not even slightly, but it managed to do the trick just fine. He bolted awake to the immediate strike, hands lashing out to attack his invisible enemy as he used his eagle vision but only saw Vivian's bluish-white outline in the dark room and hissed irately, "Vivian! What is the matter with you?!"
"You punched me, you tool!" she shot back with the same rage because being punched by the assassin wasn't part of the awesomeness deal and gently massaged her poor skin. Ugh, why hadn't trade spread the derivative ingredients of aspirin to Egypt? A headache would undoubtedly form if swelling was involved and her feet kicked his legs under the covers in fussiness as she justified her little swat, "I was only getting comeuppance so you match."
Altaïr found himself baffled to her claim because he'd never expected (nor wanted) to strike anyone in that manner and asked slowly, "I punched you? Are you certain?"
"No, I punched myself in the eye for fun" she retorted sarcastically as she wiped away stray tears leaking from her poor eye and hoped he hadn't damaged anything. Optometrists were practically nonexistent in their time and damaging a cornea was not in her plans for adventuring because it would hinder her life. The lack of glasses in their time would make anyone of near or farsightedness cry in shame because they'd definitely need the assassin to play as their guide when their sight began to change with time. Anger wouldn't help anything and she forced herself to calm down since the poor man didn't know what he'd unintentionally done and restated gently, "You accidentally hit me in your sleep when I wanted to move. I'm pretty sure you were either maiming or being maimed by Templars since you were mumbling about them."
He wiped the sleep from his eyes while being flooded with guilt for accidentally causing her pain. Throughout his life, he'd experienced moments that not all humans were privy to and maybe his mind happened to channel all of that into something physical when he was asleep. Vivian called it psychology; he called it a pain in the ass. She caught his outline in the dark as the filtering moonlight illuminated his silhouette, his ruffled short hair humorously defined in messy wisps, and he sighed softly in apology, "I'm sorry, Vivian. After spending my entire life as an assassin, there are some instincts that simply cling in the depths of my mind and lash out."
"Are you okay?" her simple question was one he hadn't heard often since the order looked to him to answer questions rather than the other way around. He'd always been on his own due to the way Al Mualim kept the order isolated and he'd grown up to solve his own problems however he could while keeping to the creed. Vivian's words struck him because he had no answer for that and he rarely opened himself to divulge his secrets, not keen on being vulnerable.
"I can deal with-"
She placed her hand over his mouth to silence his denial (and impertinence) to ask firmly, "Hear my question, Altaïr. Are you okay? You dealt with a lot today."
She wasn't one to quit, was she? He wanted to tell her that it was his private business only but after punching the poor woman and seeing her current sympathetic face, he stirred the thoughts in his head for an answer. It was easier to blame her for making him feel guilty than opening himself for critique but he was destined for a little self-searching and critical thinking once in a while.
"I. . .I'm frustrated, worried, exhausted. . .I wish I could sleep for years but there is a lot required of me" he admitted faintly as he brushed his hands through his hair, his brow furrowing to glare at the dark ceiling for being put in a situation he had no control over. He would've been happy with a leader that hadn't betrayed him or threatened the existence of their order and could keep eliminating enemies that weren't searching for weapons that could control an entire society. Unfortunately, destiny had decided that his life would be anything but easy and he sighed dully, "And apparently, I punched you so we should be looking at that."
"I'll live, I'm sure your subconscious is laughing hysterically" she chuckled softly since the pain would pass but wondered how she'd cover up the marks without anyone thinking Altaïr or Malik beat her. Ancient times usually overlooked such treatment since just about any reason would warrant such behavior towards women but didn't want him dwelling over it. She shifted in her spot on the bed to smooth out any lumps in the mattress that poked her back and yawned softly with encouragement, "You can sleep all you want once we're back on the Nile-"
"Ugh, don't remind me" he grumbled since he'd been tugging that canoe everywhere until his arms fell asleep to freeze in place and the seasickness wasn't alluring him in the slightest. Why couldn't land travel be faster? He cursed modern technology, wishing the bodies of water on Earth and its dangerous depths never existed. The days away from the river had been a wonderful blessing and he abhorred having to return to the river tomorrow morning, his brow lightly furrowing to the sinisterly calm waves of the Nile. His self-control was impeccable as he allowed nothing to thwart or frighten him from his goal but the tips of his fingers twitched at the thought of falling into the river when they journeyed through rough patches. Chasing away the negative thoughts, he bundled into the blankets to keep warm but failed to do so since he wasn't alone in the bed this time. Not wanting to tear the rest away from Vivian and accidentally kick her out of bed during the night for not having his way, he quietly asked, "Do we have any extra blankets? I'm a bit cold."
"No problem" she replied amicably since the poor assassin needed his rest and would bear his bed hogging to keep him happy for tonight. After all, he kept her safe from danger (boy, was it everywhere nowadays) and she was finding herself enjoying his company as a traveling companion rather than the dangerous assassin he was. Leaning over the left side of the bed, she grabbed her plump travel pack to pop it open and fish for a warm pair of blankets. Airing them out towards the side to prevent any sneezing from gathered dust, she handed them over because waking to an assassin with the sniffles wouldn't be pretty. That, and she'd always held a preconceived notion that the man was immune to the power of microscopic germs.
His first instinct was to huddle underneath the covers to swaddle himself in warmth but relented half of it to allow Vivian entrance if she grew cold during the night. Of course, if she dared to trespass into his personal space, he'd pull those blankets right back to his own side. He grabbed a dagger hidden underneath his pillow, which he always kept for nighttime protection whenever he traveled, and leaned over her to press the clean metal hilt against her eye. Vivian squeaked immediately to the touch of cold metal touching her skin and he reared back from the response when she squirmed away. Her hands rose in protest to his unknown intentions, his eardrums irritated by her soft feline hisses as she objected shrewdly, "Would you give a girl a warning before bringing weapons into bed? Nine times out of ten, someone will lose an eye."
"Just because you state a statistic, it doesn't make it true" he pointed out sharply about her random facts or tendency to correct him, trying to keep her arguing hissing to a minimum. True, he granted her the reasoning that springing forth a weapon without declaring his purpose could shift anyone into immediate defense.
"But it sounds true and in this day and age, very likely" she reasoned simply while batting away his hands that held the sheathed dagger, keeping him at bay to whatever he was aiming for. She'd already caught him playing with a knife in camp during one boring morning, his dexterous hand jabbing endlessly at the empty spaces between his fingers with a lazy frown while her heart hammered at the thought of him losing an appendage in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't keen on learning the easy and safe games of her time, feigning sleep when she'd attempted to play hide-and-seek or 'charades'. Of course, when she'd tapped him on the back to play tag, he'd hunted her down relentlessly like a poor foal until she was face down in the dirt while he stood victoriously and demanded another game. She never thought she'd fear playing that children's game but the man was unstoppable once he was 'it'.
"Shut up and press it against your eye, the cold metal will help" he ordered briskly, swatting away her protesting hands and she lay down on her back to grudgingly obey rather than bolting from the bed. Leave it to ruthless thieves to change antagonistic behavior into jesting fellowship that allowed the two to be convivial rather than rude. She allowed him to touch her stinging skin with the metal because she couldn't see whether it was sheathed or not (it was) and he stated knowingly, "And a smart man will always carry a knife."
The cold metal did indeed feel good against her throbbing skin, causing a small sigh to leave her lips as the pain dulled to the cold overwhelming her skin receptors. It wasn't an ice pack but a decent alternative when stuck in ancient times during the dead of night. Her fingertips touched his to move the hilt lower to the side where the outer corners of the eye socket hurt most, mumbling quietly for the kind gesture, "Thanks. I can now add this to my craziest moments list. . .it's quickly becoming a book."
She twisted the hilt over to the other side when the metal became warm and no longer numbed her skin, sighing softly, "One mission down and many to go, depending where my route for home is at. You can't answer any of my questions but I can answer yours, to a limit, of course."
One question itched at his mind since speaking with the mysterious being (well, it was more of a one-sided conversation) but it had nothing to do with his future or goal. Vivian had been quite prudent about divulging any specific facts about his future path, remaining ambiguous to a point he was ready to shake her upside down by the feet for answers but he respected her stance- it was for his benefit. He took the same safe road as he asked slowly with caution, "What did she mean by the ending of the world?"
Vivian quietly explained what Minerva had spoken, sharing her own interpretations of her speech, and waited for his input while praying to whatever force in the universe that existed that time wouldn't implode that very second. Each time she spoke on details about the future sent a bundle of nerves to her stomach at the thought of the repercussions but she wasn't the boss of Altaïr and was certain he'd find a way to pry tidbits from her mind. She found herself immensely relieved when he simply listened to her, asking no questions whatsoever to keep her on point to his question without derailing to another topic. By the end of it all, he regretted asking it because imagining the world engulfed by flames and Templars running amok with pieces of Eden in their vile hands wasn't what he pictured for the future. So much for an idyllic future where his order held the advantage and didn't have to fear burning into a pile of ashes. He exhaled a dismal sigh through his nose because things didn't seem chipper centuries from now and commented wryly, "Perfect, not only must I help my descendants uncover this sorcery within the piece but save life itself?"
He fell back against the bed to rub his face in exhaustion, leaving her with the blade's hilt over her eye, and Vivian mumbled out words of encouragement, "Well, you and I will be long gone by that time so do what you can because I'm not ruining the future by giving you your inventions or blurting out your future. However, I will make humorous quips to ire you."
She yawned softly into her free hand and piped up helpfully to boost his morale, "Look at the bright side, you'll be free flying star stuff and I'm from another dimension- oh god, this sounds like a bad fan fiction but I'm living it."
That. . .didn't help at all.
The short snort distinctly told her she was better off staying quiet and she finished hastily, "It's not the best I can offer at this hour but my brain is practically goo after today's adventuring-"
"I still feel responsible for the path they will all lead, given that the last one is my great-great. . .many greats' grandson" Altaïr stated quietly with solemnity to the life he would lead and all those within his bloodline, especially at having his codex confiscated through the passage of time. If he could create a trap that would slice off the hands of Templars only at an immediate touch, he would do so. Instead, all he could do was fight his hardest to survive and hope that everything he accomplished would be enough. . .even if it only added a tiny grain of sand to tip the scales in the assassins' favor to preserve a future free of Templar influence.
"At least you made yourself quite a nice diverse lineage" she complimented approvingly since their mission had gone splendidly successful and there wasn't anything he could do to change the future. Altaïr had practically become the Star Wars example of 'The Chosen One', except he wouldn't go all psycho and turn to the dark side, but he tried his best to persevere against the obstacles set against him. He'd managed to make a decent lineage all the way to Desmond so that was the most important part because he had to carve his own path outside of his ancestors. Never did she envision that getting laid would lead one on the road to saving humankind. . .oh man, the humorous fanfictions she could write about Ezio using that line to charm women's pantaloons off. She grinned impishly to the humorous anecdotes she could've created in his time to share jabs with the Casanova and snickered, "Man, now that's a destiny I could get behind- er, in front of."
"You're destroying the dignity left in this discussion with your lecherously inappropriate thoughts" he chastised quietly since his culture and time forbid such language, especially to the fairer sex. Unfortunately, Vivian was able to slip past that social rule in private where he allowed her free reign and reminded himself to carry a cloth he could stuff in her mouth when she rambled about subjects he didn't care to lend an ear for.
Vivian couldn't help but sympathize because it took a great amount of willpower not to be driven insane or have a mental breakdown from reality with the immense pressure on his shoulders. Between assassinating and making sure his order stayed alive, there were still other responsibilities he had (there were many times she had to remind him to simply eat). She didn't see how one would want to become an assassin in that lifetime or even during Desmond's due to the stressful turbulence. Yes, it was nice to play one in a video game where you could respawn continuously and perform acrobatic moves that would normally leave you in the care of a chiropractor for years to come but when it came down to the harsh reality, ripping into someone's flesh and climbing buildings with the hope that you wouldn't be fatally shot in the back by an arrow wasn't a comforting way to live. Not to mention, knowing you had to constantly look over your shoulder for enemies and hope one of your colleagues wasn't a double spy was enough to suck the sleep out of you.
"There's only so much you can do in one life" she whispered kindly since he protected his people fiercely but it was time to put all of those worries aside for another day and settled on her left side to yawn quietly, "Now, let's get some shut-eye because we need it for tomorrow."
"My dagger?" he requested simply and she handed it over with a sheepish 'whoopsie', forgetting she still had it pressed comfortably against her eye. Vivian and weapons were never a good mix due to her lack of skill but leaving her with his dagger would backfire horribly if somebody decided to barge in to attack them. Somehow, he doubted her petite height and a dagger with a hilt too large for her hand would frighten anybody away. Tucking it safely away under his pillow where it would stay for easy access, he murmured faintly with exhaustion as he closed his eyes for the night, "Until tomorrow, Vivian. . .and thank you for listening."
"That's what I'm here for, I might not understand your life the way you do but I will listen to any of your concerns because we all need support in one way or another" she whispered softly to empathize with his troubles and hoped their small chat helped somewhat, settling onto her side to fall asleep with her new purple eye. Well, at least she could claim it as a battle scar and bask in awe that it was from the mighty hand of Altaïr Ibn. . .crap, she forgot how to pronounce the rest.
When morning came, the master assassin woke to a bright sunny room that chirped with birds outside and resembled a television commercial fit for aromatic laundry detergent. Altaïr, however, wished he had a bucket of water to throw at them to drown the melodic sound and a strip of cloth to cover his eyes from the filtering sunlight. All in all, he was a little fussy that morning. He found Malik hanging halfway off the duvet as he resembled a living mummy and a soft lump next to Altaïr told him Vivian had annoyingly huddled next to him, with arms entwined around his left arm. Great, he'd unknowingly adopted a leech onto his limb overnight. Frowning at the unwelcome and uncomfortable touch as she breached his personal space, he heard her mumble faintly, "No, we take the boat to the Atlantic, Ezio. Captain Jack Sparrow does the job!"
Her arms tightened constrictively around Altaïr as she sighed with delight in her sleep and he prayed she wasn't dreaming something scandalous. Please, let his name never leave her lips unless he was skewering something. This was not how he wanted to wake in the morning and his lips parted with offended surprise when she murmured slowly with delight in her voice, "Mmm, you're ten times better than Altaïr. Plushy too."
Instead of peeling her off like a contagious cloth, he demanded aloud with irritancy to nobody in particular, "Who the blazes is Jack Sparrow and Ezio?"
He was getting pretty tired of all these anonymous men he kept hearing about throughout their travels (conscious ramblings or not). . .and the ridiculous notion that they were better than him. His hubris over the creed and others was gone from his character, yes, but he still took pride in his attained skills like any ordinary man. He wasn't called the grand master or a master assassin for nothing, after all.
"Get up, you insolent woman" Altaïr ordered sharply when he felt that arm falling asleep from the lack of circulation and pulled it from her grip, leading her to reach for him immediately with a longing groan. Her fingers blindly searched for his arm and he sighed into the air, almost mulling the idea to sate her need but thought better of it. No, he was not a pacifying toy! They needed to leave quickly before anyone began asking questions about the bodies hidden around the pyramid's perimeter and the sooner they left, the safer they'd be.
With that in mind, he pinched her nose to wake the badger from her sleep and whatever ludicrous dreams dwelled there.
A/N: On a fun whim, I decided to plug in Vivian's and Altaïr's horoscopes and I found myself rather stunned to find their personalities matched exactly to how I'd written her and Ubisoft's characterization of the assassin. I loved this part I found online: 'Both Capricorn man and Scorpio woman understand each other more than they let the other one think they do. She possibly knows him better than he knows himself. He may seem cold and stubborn on the surface, but she knows that deep down there is an ache that hurts just as much as anyone else when he needs to be loved. Since he is stubborn, it should probably be Scorpio woman who steps forward and tries to help things along. Capricorn male becomes even more stubborn and draws back further within himself at first, but over a bit of time and some gentle persuasion by Scorpio woman, he starts to unclench his fists and ease himself out of the intensity he buries himself into. Her constant reassurance to him is the key to keep the harmony and smoothness in their relationship. Similarly, it is not easy to get into the heart of a Scorpio woman, but Capricorn man's brilliant smile and sparkling eyes do it almost every time. When she is her normal and happy self again, a mere smile is all her Capricorn man needs to know that she is okay. His protection over her intensifies with time as is his heart.' Seriously, I almost fell out of my chair in laughter since the two have already shared these hilarious scenarios and will continue to.
Aside from my little discovery, the group will be leaving Giza now to depart once more over the Nile to head south to Uganda to find the next piece of Eden. I've been extremely busy this semester with finishing my nursing prerequisites and can take a small load off at knowing I passed their exam to enter the program while unknowingly earning an associate's degree in natural science (October has been awesome this year).
A sincere thanks to everyone who has this story on alert and has dropped off a review, I loved reading them while stressing like a madwoman:
ihas no clue: Malik can do no wrong, can he? Unlike a certain cantankerous assassin.
KHR-Fan: Given Altaïr's time frame, he seems to me the type of man that shows his affection through actions rather than Ezio's charming approach and flirtations- which is why I want to see him cook dinner and sharpen her weapons. Lol. As for the trip, Altaïr will hate the water travel while everyone will dislike the arid lands and settlements filled with unsavory people (thieves, slavers, Templars). There's a bunch of POE's all over the world (even underwater), it took me a very long time to decide what continent I wanted Altaïr and his group to cover. I really wanted to do Asia but since he travels there in later life, abandoned the idea to keep to the timeline and Europe has been explored by Ezio so I decided to take on Africa.
KrnYong: Since she helped him, Altaïr decided to throw the poor woman a freebie while she avoided a fangasm to his compliment. Malik is just finding all sorts of humorous ways to make light of his missing arm and it's even better when it makes Altaïr grumpy. Back in ancient times, people didn't live long due to illnesses and their surroundings so I was surprised to hear that Altaïr lived into his 90s while poor Ezio died a few years into retirement in his 60s.
Another fan: Wow, thank you for the kind words on our witty Vivian and the two famous assassins. As for the songs, I try my hardest to make them hilarious and glad you love them. We'll be seeing their return in the next chapter but I'm glad you didn't skim through the chapters and absorbed each word like a happy sponge. Lol. I didn't want to follow the old 'let's replay AC1' format since we all know the missions and wanted to explore Altaïr past that so that's where I decided to place Vivian. He'll be making fun of Vivian's entry into his world later on since the poor girl is still hanging onto logic and science for answers.
Nightingale123: I'm glad to know you love the story and Vivian hasn't grated on anyone's nerves, to my relief. With the AC world being very serious with the life-death situations, we need humor and poor Vivian makes a good scapegoat for Altaïr. I hope you loved this chapter as well.
Galaxytrain: Aw, I love hearing thank you's for writing each of my stories so thank you for being so polite. I'm glad you love the story, I put my best effort into each and love hearing feedback from my readers. I hope you enjoyed this update!
ShizukaRen-Hime: Maria's quote came from my own experience in playing, I hated climbing all the way up there and chucked Altaïr from the top of any house to the lower levels- even if my health bar suffered. I had to give Altaïr a softer side (if possible) since he does appreciate sincere help and I see him as a subtle romancer with little words that pack meaning and actions that speak even louder, which we'll see later on as the story progresses. Now that their mission in Giza is over, he's more relaxed and free to figuratively poke Vivian to rile her while Malik will ignore the two to enjoy a snack. Thank you for the words on my writing, I'm glad I can keep the same style as in previous chapters.
Lonerwolf1015: Humor is truly a good weapon to wield, especially when you're Vivian.
LoliMochi: Thank you for showing such reading dedication to my fanfic, I love it! You could always use the AC Wikipedia to learn everything you need to in a super quick way since I use it when I need to brush up on a few facts I've forgotten. The three are a good blend since Altaïr is the resilient no-nonsense leader, Malik is the peacemaker and levelheaded one, and Vivian lightens tense situations with her witty facts. I love your quote 'She is the total opposite of a Mary Sue, yet in a way she is a Mary Sue because everyone can't help but love her' since I've tried to make her as any everyday girl with a good head on her shoulders and good-natured humor. Like any person, she has flaws that need work (except her singing, she's not getting any better) just like each of us.
Guest: Thanks for loving the story, I appreciate it!
Next Time: Altair and Vivian's Aunt Flo
Vivian counted herself lucky that she was currently on water travel, thanking her lucky stars a million times that her current predicament didn't begin back in Giza. It all started on one fine morning when the chirpy tweeting of birds woke her up in horrible pain and she realized, with great embarrassing horror, that her monthly visitor had reared its ugly head. Why, oh, why was she stranded in time with that physiological time bomb? It was times like this that she yearned to be a man so she could avoid that iffy subject altogether since she traveled with men who knew nothing about it!
The fact that her sleeping gown and bedroll was stained didn't help matters in the slightest when she scrambled to her pack to fish out the items she'd prepared ahead of time. When a modern day girl was lost in time, she would not procrastinate on important things like this. . .especially when in the company of a suspicious assassin. There was a reason she scampered over to hygienic stands during travel and spent her meager coin on whatever she could stock up on to avoid any embarrassing incidents.
With her heart jumping in her throat, she'd practically flown to the river with her items to wash her gown squeaky clean and tidied her poor appearance before someone caught her. Otherwise, she'd have a very hard time explaining that she hadn't been stabbed or killed someone while taking a stroll to the riverbank. After that short crisis was averted, she returned back to camp with a mixture of horrible symptoms to find the bloodhound known as Altaïr making rounds around camp. Why had he picked this precise time frame to make his perimeter scans? Hollywood couldn't make films this suspenseful.
Quickly, she fought down the sharp pain that jolted to her abdomen as she met him before he could wander into her tent and piped up cheerfully, "Good morning, fellow adventurer-"
"Where have you been?" he demanded suspiciously as he spotted the bundle of clothes in her arms and she smiled innocently, quickly mumbling out she'd showered. This, of course, sent off alarms in his mind because her hair was dry as hay and she wasn't shivering in the slightest. She headed into her tent hastily, dumping her items to the side carelessly as she dove for her bedroll to hide it but Altaïr's perfect vision caught sight of the crimson spot.
Why was that there?!
Before she could fold the roll in half to hide it, he was pulling at her left leg to reveal what she'd hidden from him but she wasn't budging. She defied his pulling with the ferociousness of a badger because she wasn't ready to face further mortification under his scrutiny. He grit his teeth to her audacity as he tugged the feisty woman with all of his might to pull her away and he snapped sharply, "What happened? Who or what harmed you? Where are they? Answer or-"
"Let go, you Balrog of Morgoth!" she hissed defiantly to his irate demands and wiggled both legs to break free, remembering the night at the inn. The assassin shook her one more time before dropping her onto her bed and she turned the roll over to its squeaky clean side. Could this become any more mortifying? Scratch that, she didn't want to jinx it and have Malik burst in with the same flurry of questions. Curiosity glimmered in her eyes since she could've pinned the blame on killing an intruding animal (not that he'd believe her) and she asked, "Wait, why did you think I was hurt?"
"I heard shuffling and running towards the bank, I was sewing a pair of trousers when I heard it" he explained matter-of-factly between thinned lips that clearly showed he wanted answers and wasn't handing out his own. After all, he stumbled onto this unexpected scene and required answers as the troop leader rather than a runaround. He waved an indignant finger to point to the bedroll that had printed a permanent picture into his brain and snapped firmly, "Not to mention, that puddle right there that's hard to ignore!"
Vivian smiled impishly at the image of him sewing because she'd never seen him do such a thing since they started traveling, only cleaning. He didn't like that cunning little smile on her face since she was crafty at avoiding topics and she teased with a sweet voice, "Isn't that cute? I didn't think you could sew."
"Woman, there's a lot of things you don't know that could fill a library" he retorted back because most traveling men knew a thing or two about sewing clothing. Otherwise, they'd stumble into towns with ragged clothing and falling pieces of cloth- a look that the assassin would never be caught dead with. Besides, that little smile of hers challenged him to stay sharp on his toes with a verbal comeback but her jabs had become playful and less embarrassing than before. He didn't feel the need to defend himself against the strange time traveler anymore and Malik's words ran through his head. Was he truly becoming her friend?. . .Where was a hard drink when he needed one?
"Yet this head managed to solve a temple's brain puzzle" she chided mischievously as she clung for dear life onto the bedroll but he frowned deeply to steer her back to the main topic. She was a stubborn donkey when she didn't want to delve into a topic and a crafty falcon when she wanted to run circles around her enemies to confuse them (she accomplished that with her babblings alone). Her smile faltered as she avoided his gaze throughout the entire exchange and he noticed for the first time that her ears were red at the top. She sighed softly as her avoidance hit a dead end, hastily putting away the bedroll for later cleaning away from everyone's eyes, and admitted modestly, "I'm not hurt. My, uh, my monthly menses is here-"
At this, the assassin reared back as if he'd been bitten into by an invisible foe and she found his horrified expression amusing as his balance faltered for a split second. Well, even the mighty Altaïr was unsettled like any normal man about that specific topic. She chuckled softly as his face reminded her of home, the familiar flicker of human unease settling her nerves and chided gently, "Stop that, you look like my father when I told him for the very first time. Even time doesn't change that look."
"Well, do you need medicine to stop it? A dark hut for isolation? Angle your tent towards the moon? A cleansing ritual?" he asked awkwardly in hurried rambles to wrap up the topic before he became more involved than he needed to. This was not what he'd expected; he would've preferred an animal bite to this! Women were modest beings that kept those topics between themselves and he wasn't keen on discovering further facts on what went on within their bodies. Vivian could only stare at him in disbelief to the outrageous suggestions that made absolutely no sense to her modern mindset and he admitted glumly with great reluctance, "I've never been exposed to this in my life."
"You traveled with Maria for many months" she pointed out quickly because she highly doubted the ex-Templar discovered hormonal suppression in that era and she was too young to hit menopause. For all of his great skills, Altaïr lacked socializing with women on such topics because society placed a stigma on publicly disclosing anything private. Of course, the time traveler had to twist his life upside down in the most uncomfortable way that morning and resisted the urge to bolt.
"She was very quiet about those things, all women are!" he snapped back with a tone that sounded almost hysterical to her ears and Vivian felt all of her embarrassment leaving her. The man was completely innocent in the inner workings of womankind and smiled widely with mirth, laughing into her hands but stopped when the motion hurt her belly. Nuts, now she wouldn't be able to joke around and laugh like the jolly little jester she was. Altaïr was not amused by her delight to his lack of knowledge, wanting to wash away that little grin and stated stiffly, "It's not normal to me, Vivian."
Thank you for the continuous support and please drop a review, I love reading them!