The Trying Adventures of Altaïr
"Who's the greatest assassin ever?
A hero of renown
Who slayed an evil Templar?
Who cast De Sable down?
Altaïr!
And that time the vile Templar
Captured a damsel fair
He, who saved Maria with such bravery,
She offered him a love affair?
Altaïr!
Also, he fought a crocodile!
Altaïr-r-r-r!"
Malik stared at Altaïr's back as the assassin rowed calmly without uttering an insult or reprimand to Vivian's off-key singing, surprised he wasn't scowling for half of the lyrics. Vivian finished her tune as she rowed at the back of the canoe and hummed the 'Billy song' she'd parodied. There was an infinite amount of songs she could use to describe the badass assassin and this was one good example. Unlike Altaïr that hissed irately at her singing, he didn't mind her artistic flair and the dai asked slowly, "You're not telling her to be quiet?"
Vivian scratched a random itchy (boy, were they itchy) mosquito bite on her left arm but her ears were wide open with curiosity to his reply. Her skills might not be awe worthy in any form but she was always eager to hear a compliment thrown her way to reassure she wasn't a lost case. It would be shameful to be deemed unworthy of anything by the awesome assassin (whose cutout she'd bought out of extreme loyalty) and she heard Altaïr reply, "It's an uphill battle . . . and I don't mind hearing about my greatness."
"Another mad grand master with egotistical tendencies?" Malik joked to the man's pride and shook his head with a smile, lowering the medical book he'd been reading for the moment. The volume rose when he saw Altaïr raise one of his paddles but the assassin realized he couldn't prod Malik in the same fashion as he could with Vivian. Lacking an arm or not, his friend would drop him into the water and he returned to rowing. Vivian found the scene amusing as the two shared brotherly quips and Malik feigned a sad sigh as he returned to his book, "What has our brotherhood come to?"
The atmosphere between the trio, especially Altaïr and Vivian, had been dispersed of all negative tension as they realized they were stuck together for the following year and no wagon was going to give them a ride back home. Altaïr had constantly written back home to check on the order and the condition of Maria but she'd stated that everything was fine as she'd take care of everything on her end. He was glad for this since she was quite independent but a little irritated because he wanted to be a part of the pregnancy somehow to begin forming the father-child bond. He really did want to hear about his upcoming child but the task of completing the journey took priority, forcing him to stick to his trip outline and shed any remorse for having to continue onwards. The child would still have Maria and the order would protect them from harm for as long as he stayed alive. Regarding their status now that they would share a child involved, Altaïr was unsure of it all. He'd trained endlessly for about a week on the road to pent out his anxiety over it all because he never expected fatherhood to reach him just yet. Yes, he was in the prime of his life when most men were married and had those crying tykes running around but he wasn't quite ready. Every time he'd see children in his travel, he couldn't help but think of his and what life awaited him when he did return. He would be a part of the child's life, unless it truly became hazardous, but what of Maria? How did he fit into her life? She'd made her desires pretty clear the last time they'd met and he'd left to lick his wounds but what about now? Would she consider marrying him for the sake of the child? Would he?
As for Malik, he was a child born within the order and estranged from his parents as every child under Al Mualim had been placed. However, he found his family with the two as they spent their time together and cherished their moments of camaraderie. He might not have Kadar anymore but he had Altaïr back as his brother and the time traveler as a sister of sorts; they were the most unorthodox group in history. Unlike the grand master that needed haggling to get him to do something, Vivian soaked up his knowledge and advice like a sponge with bright eyes fit for a child. As for the quirky Vivian, she had to forget the notion of seeing her beloved family again after hearing Isis' words and the two men were fast becoming her adoptive family over the months. Yep, she was two months and a week into her travels since setting out from Masyaf on that fateful humid morning where she was almost pooped on by Altaïr's horse.
Vivian smiled cheerfully as she wrote the land's details in her book, using pieces of charcoal to sketch points of interest as her nature to jot down history took hold during travel. She also used her free time to practice deciphering the alphabet to grasp their grammar to write clear concise sentences that wouldn't resemble scribbles. Malik was an incredible help in camp as she translated notes to improve her language skills while Altaïr only wrote in his codex and carried no books to read. Due to that, he was initially reluctant to hear about Vivian's fictional tales at night during their campfire until he realized that they weren't too bad- if kept to a minimum throughout their travel.
An assassin's life wasn't a happy one as they placed duty above all else and danger would always follow. Altaïr's taste of betrayal, Ezio's family loss, and Desmond's imprisonment were prime examples of how life would be for anyone in the Order. Although she didn't know the ending of their lives at the current moment, the scars of their life experiences echoed throughout time. After seeing all of that, the appeal to be an assassin wasn't that great as she originally believed and she was glad she'd never have an opportunity to dare it. Since her life would be tied to theirs for a short time (she couldn't imagine being stranded in time forever), she was certain she'd carry her own by the end. Nonetheless, she would try her best to give them some sense of happiness that didn't involve saving the world. Who would want to be on assassin watch 24/7?. . . Well, maybe Altaïr.
"How much longer do you think it will be?" Altaïr asked Vivian since she was his source of information and had begun asking for her input through their travels. They had been rowing up the river for more than five weeks as they traveled to restock and find camp at the temple of Philae that was located at southern Egypt. It was their beacon to guide them south into Sudan and they would feel safer at an abandoned temple on an island than the open desert. The land was arid with sparse trees once they left the rich soil deposits of the shore that allowed the land to flourish bountifully.
"I don't know, Altaïr, it's an island so we can't miss it on the main river" she answered uncertainly since her major was history, not geography, and stopped her sketch. The land was over a thousand years old and the terrain would've changed over time since the temple had to be moved elsewhere for preservation. Whatever lump of large land they found in the middle of the gargantuan river, she would call it since they were nearing the location. She gazed at the horizon to the south in case she spotted something that he hadn't and informed quickly, "It's changed in my time due to corrosion but we can't miss it in this era. Do you still remember the map?"
"I don't have the memory of a child, Vivian" he stated dryly but relented with a nod nonetheless towards his belongings so she could fetch his book of maps. He wasn't impervious to mistakes and it would be arrogant of him to believe so. . .but hoped she wouldn't ruin his organized packs. He allowed another to peruse through his items despite his strictness on privacy and told her, "It's in one of my packs."
Malik groaned to the man's artistic abilities since Altaïr preferred his own hand drawn copy of maps so he could add in notes and sighed, "You heard him. Keep an eye out for a page with a deformed landscape that resembles a brown circle then."
"Not all of us have an artist's fingers, Malik" Altaïr retorted sardonically since his sketching did indeed need a hand in improving but nobody had actually offered to help. There was no question to who had the best artistic hand in the group but he took solace in Vivian's compliment that his penmanship was the most elegant.
Looking to Vivian as she sat behind him, he stopped rowing to see her digging into his pack with her right hand and sighed under his breath when she waved to him with the left. Truly, he questioned the logic behind bringing the perky historian into his time. She fished out two books but instead of perusing through them, raised each so he could see the covers to maintain his privacy within each intact. He shook his head to reject both, silently thankful that she hadn't decided to read his writings but part of him already knew she wouldn't be nosy. If anything, he was the nosy one out of both and laughed when she exclaimed shrilly, "Ew, there's something gooey in there! My limit is crunchy and coarse but I draw the line at gooey and pointy."
"Oh, that's a cheese I bought" he answered simply while coughing back a laugh to her frightened voice and features. Did she really think he carried dangerous gooey items? When he saw the curious glint in her eyes, he remembered her favorite food and quickly chastised, "Don't even think about eating it."
She dug further into his bag past the strange lumpy objects and found another book, pulling out a red text and smiled at reading the words 'Maps of the World'. She popped it open to find it full of masterful drawings of current countries and kingdoms that weren't from his hands. Piping up she had it, she closed his bag after fixing everything neatly and returned to her seat to resume her sketching. It was best they had the book on hand rather than fetching it at the last minute.
Altaïr looked to her quiet sketching to see if he could lift his bruised ego from its hole by critiquing hers since she never held anything against him (well, most of the time). His left eyebrow rose when he spotted sketches on the page adjacent to her drawing of the landscape and noticed human figures in various poses. One pictured a man similar to him in appearance wearing strange black armor as he held a weapon of sorts, another- Malik?- was in brown robes as he held a glowing sword of sort, another was in assassin garb while holding a beer with a grin that oddly resembled his if he actually smiled, and others. Hmm. This poked his curiosity as he rowed the boat upstream, ripping his gaze away from the river once more to look past his right shoulder and asked casually, "What are you drawing?"
She flinched sheepishly as she'd been engrossed with drawing and pleasantly surprised he actually showed an interest in her scribbling. Usually, he told her to stop that awful charcoal scratching but could see genuine interest in his gaze. She was always eager to gain a brownie point with the awesome assassin and showed him her bundle of caricatures. Her voice hitched in volume since she didn't display her drawings to anyone besides her sister and rambled quickly with a wide smile, "That's Desmond as Commander Shepard, Malik as a Jedi, your descendant Ezio enjoying a beer, Rebecca breaking a vase over Shaun's head, Leonardo wearing a nice Versace suit, and Lucy dissecting a sandwich. Oh, and an elf named Zevran."
Altaïr had absolutely no idea who those people were in the slightest sense as she smiled brightly to her quick sketches and he regretted asking almost immediately. He felt inclined to increase his comfort level with Vivian due to her special circumstance but sometimes, his mind suffered in attempting to understand hers. It wasn't hard to lose interest in the conversation and flatly asked with a deadpan expression, "You drew people I don't know? Where am I?"
She pointed to a familiar man wearing strange clothes on a wooden bench and answered cheerfully, "You're feeding ducks. I would've drawn you with water wings but you don't know what they are."
"I don't know what a Jedi is" Malik spoke up as he looked away from his book for a moment to add in his two cents and hoped it wasn't anything bad. Despite that, he liked the sketch in his name as it held a distinct human physique while Altaïr's hand would've . . . catastrophic would be the best word to describe it. Malik took pride in having an advantage in that skill and that was while lacking his left hand to keep a paper in place and sharpening his tools without it.
"They're awesome futuristic warriors who keep international peace and have powers" she explained easily with a big silly grin that told him to take pride in her little sketch since Vivian admired the two as mentors. Malik had no issue encouraging her talents or hobbies since her written Arabic was slowly coming together as a new language took time to master. As for her defense training, she was practicing the basic fundamentals to grasp the concepts perfectly since her petite height could make it difficult to take down taller people. How did Malik know this, you ask? When Altaïr had tossed her aside like a child's doll without even trying to steal a hot pastry she'd warmed over the fire. Malik realized that oddly enough, the key to releasing her potential was increasing her irritancy over having Altaïr steal or ruin her things. He would have him steal another item of food, like he usually did, from the passive woman to continue the same cycle.
"Oh" he uttered with a pleased tone since it was rather nice to be painted in a heroic light but Altaïr's eyes narrowed since all he received was a sketch about ducks. Ducks! Who would want ducks in a picture with them? Where was the strong eagle icon she yapped on about since her arrival? Or a fox? A leopard? Anything with sharp fangs or claws!
He kept a straight face as he restrained his annoyance over the yellow creatures and asked with a low stiff voice, "Why did you give me ducks?"
She wiggled her charcoal piece in the air with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes since she'd chosen the fluffy animals to contradict his indifferent personality. It was a moment like this as she eyed his frowning face with mirth that she laughed mentally at the analogy of being the Leslie Knope to his Ron Swanson- man, she missed that show. Gazing down at her sketch book, she finally allowed the cheeky smile to surface and offered nonchalantly, "I could draw you with Mr. Ping, the goose. He has a very nice noodle shop and everyone loves noodles. Or a melancholy donkey named Eeyore, he's pretty cute. Or a magical yellow dog called Jake-"
"Enough, each option is more ridiculous than the last" he silenced her ramblings as they confused him and regretted asking in the first place altogether. It was bad enough that her hand was better at drawing than his and she'd picked the smallest fluffiest animal. . .well, baby ducks weren't so bad. It was a lame attempt at drawing him in a normal but strange futuristic setting and returned to rowing their boat upstream.
Vivian flipped through the pages of her book until she landed directly in the center, passing over fifteen pages of paper to choose that exact page for privacy purposes. Quietly, she began to outline the top of his famous hood with a careful hand and began to fill in the intricate embroidery that defined him as the watchful eagle of Syria.
She would silently sketch him in different angles throughout the months until she could make him her masterpiece in one single page.
Another day brought them sunny weather as they rowed against the current of the Nile and all three adventurers sighed with miserable disbelief to the hot day. When would they have to battle storms that brought deliciously cold rain? All Vivian could do was wear her hood and cover her hands to protect herself against sun damage but even the heat made it unbearable when she rowed to take over for Altaïr. Ugh, she didn't want to look like burnt leather by the end of this journey.
Altaïr reached into the river to grasp a handful of cold water and brought it to his lips as the liquid moisturized his dry skin. A pair of hands struck his before he could take his first sip and the tantalizing water fell on the floor of the canoe to leave a brown splotch in its wake. His brown eyes widened to his lost drink because it was mere water and grit his teeth furiously as he looked to the one who dared to question his own judgment. Vivian's green eyes narrowed to what he'd been ready to do, unafraid to stand up to him and admonished, "Are you insane?! You're about to put parasites inside you!"
"I'm dying of thirst, I think it's worth it!" he yelled back since the weather was scorching him inside his robes and tried to grab another hand full of water. She grabbed him by the arms to pull him back inside the canoe with all of the strength she could muster against the broad shouldered assassin. The two argued heatedly as he fought against her but she gained leverage when Malik joined the fray with his handy right arm. The assassin wriggled in their grip for a few seconds but the heat zapped away most of his conserved energy. Great, brought down by a short historian and a one-armed dai. He could see they wouldn't release him until he voiced his defeat and quietly stilled in their grip to drawl slowly, "Fine, I will abide to your words. Now, if you would kindly release me. . ."
The two let him go as they believed his word but a split second later, he bolted for the water once more with the utmost desperation. The trio repeated the cycle all over again as they tugged at his arms to incapacitate him and he hollered angrily for his release. It was a miracle they didn't tip the boat over as they wrestled with the man but once they managed to subdue him on the floor, Malik sat on his back to add resistance to his struggle. Altaïr groaned painfully when Vivian sat down on his lower legs to prevent being kicked but she landed at an uncomfortable angle, causing him to curse at the two for being demeaned like that. Vivian held his legs down on the hardwood floor and offered hastily to cut off his angry ramblings, "Have my water, okay?!"
Five minutes later, Altaïr was nursing her canteen like an unruly toddler while she took on the chore of rowing at the front. Malik found himself pleasantly surprised to the strange role reversal as Altaïr sat in the back while Vivian pedaled with newfound strength that was usually Altaïr's. She'd raised the sleeves of her robes up to her biceps (she'd been hysterically giggly at first glance to the toned muscle) to keep the heat at bay and shook her head to mutter with disillusion, "Never did I think you'd be the first to lose it. You're the awesome Altaïr, proud and indomitable. . .but now you caved and shriveled like a frail flower."
"I believe you owe me a drink" Malik laughed with glee to his friend's tantrum over thirst and Vivian turned to him with curiosity to this unknown bet. Altaïr scowled with fury at being deemed as the loser (of anything) but water travel did horrible things to his demeanor that normally wouldn't happen. There were many reasons for the animosity between the assassin and the element of water but he kept a tight lid on half of them. Malik didn't mind sharing the innocent bet after an easy victory and explained the origins, "We made a bet at Masyaf before we left on who would have an erratic episode first. Coin would be a bonus if one began to hallucinate or ramble into madness that was curable."
Vivian stopped paddling for a moment, gazing over her shoulder with twinkling eyes to grin mischievously, "Well, he did need to be restrained and his yelling probably scared away all the fish-"
"How dare you conspire against me?" Altaïr spat indignantly as he shook Vivian's canteen like an old man would do when ordering kids to get off his land. Vivian chuckled to his dramatics since the sun affected him a little too much today but Malik paid him no mind. Vivian felt too insignificant not to pay attention to the man since he could break her in half without even trying but was confident enough to poke the dangerous bear due to Malik's presence. The dai held very good control of Altaïr's rage as a single word could instill pacification (especially when it concerned her) while her requests for cessation would go unheeded.
"You're drinking from my canteen, you desiccating camel" she justified swiftly and laughed with pride to her quick comeback, resuming her rowing while wagging her brows comically. Altaïr was not amused by her analogy in the slightest because he wanted to resemble a majestic animal and camels . . . well, they weren't on the top of his list.
Altaïr grumbled inaudibly to vent his stubborn annoyance because he didn't want to lose his coin (as meager as it was) but kept drinking from the canteen like a toddler. He wasn't comfortable being in the follower category of his group since he always felt inclined to lead in order to protect his team and ensure the success of a mission. Being in the back of the canoe reminded him of his first day on the Nile when he'd been forced to sleep the seasickness away and he didn't like then or now. It wasn't becoming of a leader and he nursed his scuffed pride by staying hydrated because the sooner he was better, the faster he could resume his role.
Vivian, on the other hand, had tasted her first sip of pride as she put on a figurative captain's hat to lead her team onwards with what little strength she could provide. Ha-ha, she could finally be the savvy Jack Sparrow of the 1190s! It was a rarity that she took the lead since Altaïr would always be her partner, always taking the lead oar, and hoped she wouldn't run over a hippo or tragically crash the boat on her way upstream. Like a good captain, she inquired about her leader's current condition, "Sure you'll be okay?"
"Let's just find food for a snack" he grumbled under his breath as he fought down nausea when a current rocked their boat slightly and he was ready to chastise Vivian's vigilance. The historian surprised him by handling the stubborn water by using one paddle to utilize her entire strength against the current to propel them forward. Being the backseat driver didn't fit him very well and he was constantly analyzing any mistakes in Vivian's form but maybe she'd learned a few handy tips watching him throughout their journey. He decided to avoid admitting that small flicker of satisfaction as a teacher and focused on the cause that stuck him in the accursed back end of the boat. He admitted to himself that he wasn't the smartest man around (Vivian begged to differ) and reluctantly muttered, "I don't see the problem with drinking water from a river."
"It's filled with tiny beings that can bring death within days" she pointed out with a shudder of disgust and fright to the invisible organisms that could wreak havoc in the human body. The lack of modern medicine doubled that terror since urinary infections and others that required strong antibiotics would be nonexistent for the next four centuries. It was times like this she was thankful for her mother's holistic remedies and her father's lectures about the history of medicine (she was the only one actually interested in the topic while Natalia ran off like a normal kid). The disparity between their centuries sometimes made it difficult for Vivian to be descriptive or find analogies but tried her best and explained cheerfully, "We have created medicines to eradicate most of these common ailments but new ones always arise. I might have a little boost of immunity from manufactured vaccines but oh man, when something manages to cling on. . ."
Her face wrinkled to resemble a prune in remembrance to the many desperate trips to the outhouse she'd taken when either food, drink, or the temperature didn't agree with her stomach. Modern day travelers to the past would fare a little easier but the archaic sanitation still got you; she could only imagine if the situation reversed and Altaïr was stuck elsewhere. He was extremely lucky that he hadn't felt what severe diarrhea was or an upset stomach where the poor organ wanted to claw its way out for relief. On the other hand, she really didn't want to put any kind of ghastly images in their minds with her as the victim (to avoid any awkward stares) and sheepishly finished, "Uh, it's not pretty."
Altaïr decided to poke his hand where it didn't belong and snorted sarcastically, "When have you ever been pretty?"
Whack!
Vivian reached into an open gap between Malik and the boat to land a wet strike to Altaïr's right shoulder with the paddle for his smart-mouthed jab. The man really had no suave or gentle charm towards the fairer ladies, did he? Malik didn't utter a single reprimand to either individual as he avoided their antics, relaxing against the side of the boat to blissfully ignore them. He did, however, bat the paddle in an- ahem- accidental twitch of his arm to raise it upwards and it swatted Altaïr in the face. This was one role reversal that Altaïr was definitely not fond of and wanted the title of leader back in his hands so Vivian could return to being his whack-a-mole.
Altaïr didn't waste time for the canoe to dock on the riverbank before he jumped out to meet the land, falling to his knees with an exuberant laugh that caught the two off guard completely. They had never heard such a jovial sound in their lives from the man (especially Malik) as he broke his stern façade entirely by actually displaying cheerful emotion. Vivian could only compare it to his inward reaction one day when he'd hear that Templar HQ had been blown up into tiny atoms. Their smiles faltered slightly when he dragged himself onto shore and declared madly, "Land! Safe, secure, and immobile land!"
His fingers dug into the wet dirt of the shore to leave deep imprints and Vivian's eyes widened while Malik's mouth popped open when they saw the assassin literally kiss the ground with his lips. Both of them grimaced when his hands dug into the dirt to hug it close like an old lover and Vivian coughed awkwardly to state aloud, "Okay, we're going to leave you alone to make sweet love to the land now."
Her words broke the siren's spell of the land over Altaïr and the assassin regained his impassive mask as the figurative glass shattered back into reality. He stood up to clear his throat awkwardly for the emotional outburst and wiped off flecks of dirt from his robes to pull attention away from his unfavorable behavior. The movement brought back a wave of nausea and Vivian grabbed hold of his right arm to steady his balance as she led him towards a log that could be used as a bench. Malik had no problem pulling the canoe onto shore for the day and she helped the assassin sit down while offering helpfully, "Take deep breaths and I'll bring you some water."
"I'll be fine-" he objected shrewdly since being coddled over or helped was not in his personality as he valued his independence highly. Whether he was seasick or nor, he would not let it defeat him.
"Can't hear you, la la la" Vivian interjected loudly to deafen his protests because she was lending a hand whether he liked it or not. He'd been kind to her during her worst monthlies as he quietly brought her food or carried her packs so she wouldn't strain herself; a chivalrous act that she'd return. Altaïr didn't have the strength to yank her back when she quickly jogged down the riverbank to retrieve her pack for her canteen of water and other items. He'd never been one to accept help easily and wondered why Vivian kept trying despite his many attempts to dissuade her. The woman was either incredibly stubborn or selflessly kind to disobey a man that could break her neck without even trying.
Dipping her hand into a bowl of water, she soaked a folded cloth until it was thoroughly wet. Removing it, she squeezed out the excess liquid onto the loose dirt to moisten the parched dust and walked back to Altaïr to press it against his hot forehead. The assassin had thrown reservation aside to lie on the log for relief and his eyes snapped open to the cooling liquid on his skin. Vivian smiled kindly to assure him she only brought aid to his parched flesh and dabbed his forehead gently, "It'll help cool you down."
He wasn't one to throw out gratuity very often since he enjoyed being independent and self-sufficient but spoke quietly, "Thank you."
"No problem, you helped me when I wasn't at my best" she dismissed easily with her chirpy tone since she was there to help the duo in any way she could. After all, they were helping her find answers for the way home and stay alive in the turbulent world. She dipped the cloth back into the cold water to wring it, glancing back to shore to see Malik lugging around two packs in one hand. Quickly, she called out to leave hers inside to prevent the poor man from falling over but he was undeterred. Altaïr decided that his help as leader was required but she pushed him back down onto the log (surprised by its easiness this time) and pressed the cloth against his forehead. He scowled for being deemed unfit to work with the simplest of jobs and she suggested firmly, "Lie down for a few minutes and let us handle this. It will help your ears do away with the motion sickness and rest your eyes too."
"Besides, I can handle this" Malik insisted with a slight frown since he wasn't an invalid and refused to let his lack of an arm keep him from performing everyday duties. Altaïr shook his head because the man had yet to carry any of Vivian's packs and heard Malik's surprised yelp when he finally picked one up. Well, he couldn't say he didn't warn him and watched the tip of her ears redden since she was a notorious pack rat. She'd been tempted to start a rock collection but he'd chucked the only rocks she'd gathered into the river because he preferred living to drowning. The dai placed Vivian's second pack on a dry area of the riverbank and sighed tiredly to its weight, "Or maybe not."
"You want me to relax on a log?" he asked Vivian skeptically since it wasn't a particular spot to take a nap and didn't want to swat mosquitoes. Those little blood suckers tended to love feasting on his blood and the bites were notoriously itchy. Still, he wouldn't complain about the cool compress on his head and the nice shade that was dulling the horrible nausea in his belly. Ugh, he'd never felt so disgusting and low in his life (at least returning to his master rank had brought insight).
"I don't exactly have a carpet to roll out for his highness" she teased dryly as he lay on his side like a lazy cat, using his hands to steady himself over the log. Even while dry heaving and suffering dehydration, the man was formidable in strength as he kept himself rooted to the log. Meanwhile, she was hoping that it didn't have ants crawling around it and decided to keep mum about that to benefit Altaïr. As long as they didn't bite, they were good. She restrained from removing his hood since air circulation would be better but she was rather fond of having hands. The compress was already breaching his space and she spoke gently to calm his punctual itinerary, "We have to rest anyway so take a nap and lower your hood to breathe easier."
"And let the mosquitoes feast on my blood?" he muttered darkly to the little buggers that he swatted on a daily basis around shallow water. Mosquitoes were never a large bother in his homeland, only during nighttime, but they used netting around the beds to prevent any bites. Obviously, they lacked that in their current tents and he'd failed in robbing Vivian of hers. The woman had been smart in customizing her own and stitching it into the entrance flaps so he'd be on the lookout for the fabric. Vivian exhaled through her nose to how childish he could be when ill and could only wonder the severity of his antics when he was truly stricken with something like the common cold. She placed the bowl of water on the ground and focused on pressing the compress against the sides of his face to cool his skin. He wasn't fond of being cared for and struggled with accepting aid once more, mumbling flatly, "Leave me, future wench."
She shook her head as she struggled not to laugh at his fussy demeanor and stood up to leave to give him privacy. It was best to adhere to his wishes than unleash his wrath by refusing his request and respect was a two-way street with the man. His hand immediately grasped her wrist to stop her with an iron grip and his voice chastised quickly with demand, "Don't leave me!"
"It's hard when you're giving me contradicting orders" she chuckled with amusement to his fussy tone and sat next to him to keep him company. He handed over the wet cloth to motion that it needed fresh water and she dropped it into the bowl. Thankfully, he listened about the hood and lowered it to allow his face to breach the surface and met the breezy shade underneath the tree.
Malik, being the kind friend that he was, placed Altaïr's pack next to the log and smirked to tell Vivian, "This is why I never travel overseas with him."
The assassin barely had the strength to shake a fist as the dai left to continue lugging in their belongings. One-armed pushups came incredibly handy for toning his upper body after losing his arm and it prepared him to handle Vivian's next unbearably heavy pack. Vivian wrung the cloth again to press it once more against his face and pursed her lips to suggest aloud, "I'm going to ask a seamstress in the next city we dock at to make you lighter robes from the fabric rolls before you faint from dehydration and heatstroke. I'd do them myself but you've threatened to skin me alive if I go past the waist-"
A weird gurgling noise escaped his mouth to object to either of her comments and she sighed to nursing her man baby back to health. Leonardo got the better end of the descendants as she and Malik were dealt with a grumpy obstinate man that refused a helping hand. Where was her assassin that would hand her a freebie flirt or offer to beat up someone that looked at her funny? Well, he did hand her a plate of food when she was ready to curl up and die from horrible cramps so that sufficed for a man like him. His voice snapped into her thoughts as he finally regained control of it and he swallowed to moisten his parched throat to state, "My robes aren't the problem- it is large bodies of water that will kill a man with its endless depth."
"Not to mention crushed by the pressure" she added in and his eyes shot open to the new fact, wishing the woman kept her mouth shut. There should've been a rule against telling him things that hindered or poked at his vulnerabilities. Her shoulders rose sheepishly as she caught the stunned look on his face and murmured quickly in apology, "Sorry."
"Vivian, if I admit something to you, will you promise not to laugh?" he asked slowly as he tested the waters of their trust but whatever he admitted, Malik would undoubtedly know. He shared most secrets with his brother and those that didn't include Vivian would be divulged later on to keep her in their circle of trust. It gave her a warm feeling in her tummy to be considered one of the guys whenever they shared supper tales and she'd turned into a regular bro for them. It was hard enough being a woman in the 12th century but her androgynous qualities in personality and behavior were accepted easily by the two.
She smiled knowingly with a small witty grin, her straight nose wrinkling slightly in amusement, and asked quietly, "You mean your obvious aquaphobia? I know."
"No, I . . . can't swim" he mumbled dejectedly about his most dreaded secret and waited for her to roll over the log in laughter. Most individuals near water knew how to swim naturally as they learned from others or themselves when it came to self-preservation but Altaïr never had the chance. Other assassins knew how to swim, even Malik in his current state, but he'd been too embarrassed to admit it. He didn't like having weaknesses but this one was proving bothersome over time in their current travel.
Instead, she tilted her head to the side in contemplation and remarked gently, "Oh . . . that's not surprising, considering you melted at the sight of water in my game."
He groaned miserably to his weakness since he'd faced water on several assassinations and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his nausea. Why was he cursed with a natural fear of water? Couldn't he pass it on like the common cold to Vivian? The little badger was already afraid of most every day occurrences- especially insects and spiders. He wouldn't push it onto Malik because the dai would punch him into the next century. Admitting a point of weakness was a rarity and he frowned visibly to his greatest fear (aside from having his order annihilated) as he disclosed quietly, "It's not something I prefer to voice aloud but I never had the opportunity to learn, given my tendency to attract danger."
Vivian, of course, suggested the most horrible but helpful advice by asking cheerfully, "Want to learn?"
One eye opened lazily to determine whether she was serious because he wasn't giddy over drowning anytime soon- he was rather attached to life. Vivian was a good companion but he highly doubted her petite form could hold him above water for very long and he'd more than likely drown both of them. His eyes narrowed suspiciously in case she decided to pull a prank in the middle of open water if he accepted and hissed softly in warning, "If you drown me, I will haunt you."
"Judging by your frantic flopping, you're more liable to drag me down with you" she commented wryly in regards to his ungraceful splashing when he'd fallen into shallow water and during the video game. He had half a mind to chuck the wet cloth at her face in retaliation for his flaw because he wasn't fond of being made fun about it. Vivian merely smiled cheekily to cool his hotheadedness and boosted his confidence by adding in, "Besides, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to be stuck with me for eternity."
"What does exist after this life?" he contemplated softly on a question that plagued millions of human beings throughout the ages and one that would never be solved. The pieces of Eden performed miracles that developed the foundations for multiple religion and that brought into question about what truly existed after death itself. Altaïr would leave the world happily with knowing his order was safe and he'd done the best he could. Death could strike at any moment during his turbulent lifetime but his mind held questions about it just the same like any other person of his time. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the thin round leaves overhead full of youth and he pondered aloud, "Will I be granted peace when my soul leaves this body or will it disintegrate into the earth as well?"
"I don't know but all we can do is make the best of the time that's given to us" she replied earnestly with a fond pat to the top of his head and smiled to the feel of his prickly short hair tickling her palm. The assassin immediately frowned to the physical touch, especially when she grinned impishly and rubbed circles over his head. The last thing he needed to become was her new house cat.
"Vivian" he cautioned with a stern note and pressed his knee against the small of her back to warn her of an imminent kick if she continued. The young woman adhered to his demand and ceased her fun with his short cropped hair.
When Altaïr managed to gather his bearings without feeling the need to barf, they headed onwards to find trees that had fruits to bear. It was cheaper than wasting their money in bazaars and the assassins already knew what was edible as they'd seen many of the foods for sale. Hopefully, they wouldn't be trespassing on anybody's land since they were walking over rich Nile soil and they only sought a few items for a snack. With the large landscape around them, nobody would notice but Altaïr's robes could be a dead giveaway if somebody decided to peer closely from a short distance.
The three split up to cover more ground as Malik took a sharp stick he'd whittled in camp for poking Altaïr when he became stubborn or anything suspicious in his path. The mighty assassin himself could climb with ease like a monkey to grab his catch while Vivian. . .well, it looked easier in cartoons.
After ten minutes of trying to jump, climb, wiggle, and hoist herself up a fig tree, the historian gave up to fetch rocks. Cavemen had somehow managed to do this so she would evolve just like they had. . .without the animalistic calls and 2001: A Space Odyssey opening scenes. She chucked the small rocks at the stems holding the plump ripe fruits in place in each but failed to bring one down. How had humankind done this with mere sticks and stones?! In embarrassed rage, she hurled the last one into the foliage in front of her to pent out her frustration and sighed aloud, "Why-"
"Vivian!"
"Aw, fiddlesticks" she squeaked nervously as her last strike managed to hit an assassin on the back instead of fruit and tried to hide behind the tree in a quick attempt to hide. Hopefully, he would just pass her by and keep searching elsewhere as he kept his reprimands to himself. She could already imagine the furious scowl on his face as he treaded through the brush with the stealthy pace of a leopard on a hunt. It wasn't very hard to hide with her stature as she wedged herself in an open groove at the bottom of the tree, using a thick root to conceal her body. Her charcoal robes came in handy for neutral camouflage-
"There you are!" he declared triumphantly as he seized her by the back of her robes and pulled her out of her hiding spot with one forceful yank. Vivian thrashed in his grip because being chastised or goodness forbid, spanked, was not on today's itinerary. Altaïr, however, wasn't particularly happy about being stoned in the middle of a field but didn't put it past Vivian's mischievousness. Either she was stealthily clever or had ridiculously bad luck when it concerned him. He held her by the scruff of her neck and shook her lightly to knock sense into her as he reprimanded, "Did you really think you could hide? Why-"
"What're you, the Predator?!" she exclaimed with stunned surprise to how easily he'd zoned in and picked her off the ground without even trying. He just shot up to a whole new awesomeness level with that move alone! As wonderful as that was for the AC fandom, she wasn't ready to be throttled into unconsciousness or blamed for the accidental strike. Her fretful movements were causing further ire to the assassin so she decided to play possum and went lax in his arms to await his reaction. This was the easiest method to gain his full attention without the rage and it had succeeded twice in reaching a compromise. When he stopped squeezing her like a poor tube of cookie dough, she took his unguarded stance as an advantage to hastily get her point across, "I was trying to get fruit and never meant to hit you in any way. Why would I even want to? You're. . .my leader."
Hmm, it sounded better in my head- everything sounds way better in my head!, she chastised herself as her tone shifted towards awkwardness at the end. He had the uncanny ability of making her question herself when she spoke- those honey toned eyes were frighteningly piercing. Ubisoft had picked well in using an eagle to describe the man because each gaze turned her into a little mouse that debated whether it would live or die that day.
"You were fetching fruit . . . with rocks?" he asked incredulously since it was the most useless method but believed the woman when she smiled innocently. They'd never left her alone to fetch fruit from trees so this was just another task that her futuristic life had no need to do. He released her with reluctance because he was always eager for a spat that would rile her but never attack her personally (he'd learned his lesson). She couldn't help her lack of knowledge on survival and Vivian had never actually jabbed or hit him lightly without a reason- her earlier paddle whack being one of them.
"I'm vertically challenged here, Long Legs McGee" she replied swiftly with blushing cheeks as the heat and situation embarrassed her in front of the impassive man. Why couldn't she have a badass aura that could equal his? Right, she was just an average woman that had become sweetly addicted to video games and reading. If anything, she held the awesomeness of a peanut. His eyes narrowed to the name calling and she pointed towards her previous spot where small rocks were scattered to insist truthfully, "All I had were rocks."
"For a woman fit to be a scholar, you have no survival skills whatsoever" he mused with disappointment as he clicked his tongue and her shoulders slumped to match her plummeting confidence. Her foot scuffed the dirt in modesty since she had no comeback to his opinion and she had the strength of a small shrew with a broken foot at this point in her life. True, she could beat a civilian with an oar but someone of Altaïr's strength would swat her away like a fly. It was times like this that she seriously considered throwing herself into a Mary Sue well to grab a pinch of their 'super-awesome-kawaii-beauty' just so she could show Altaïr that she wasn't entirely hopeless. After a moment of clear thinking, she slapped herself mentally in reminder that Altaïr was a man that worked hard for his successes and respected others who did the same. Shortcuts were easy to take but the long roads full of hardships chiseled one's true character and Vivian would like to see just how far she could go in his world.
"I don't like being helpless but assimilation takes time" she admitted sullenly with a faint smile to her shortcomings since she tried her best to be productive. It was easier in the modern world where she didn't fear for her life every day and hoped that a poisonous creature wouldn't bite her during sleep to kill her off. Learning defense training and language was marvelous but Vivian continuously searched for her own way to contribute to the team in order to avoid becoming a hindrance. She crossed her arms loosely as he read her uncertain body language quite clearly and she murmured hopefully, "Don't give up on me, I'll find my way."
"I'm not a verbally expressive man but. . ." he hesitated unsurely since Vivian had begun to stir the same protectiveness he felt for his fellow assassins and cursed his luck for bringing her along. Women tended to twist his world upside down in the oddest of ways but thankfully, she wasn't running around trying to stab him in the back. She was her own vulnerable person but never hesitated to aid him (without needing to be asked) and awkwardly patted the top of her head to state slowly, "There."
She chuckled to his simple show of camaraderie and cocked her head towards the tree to pipe up, "Let's get this fruit so we can continue south."
She spotted colorful pears beneath a tree's green canopy and it automatically spelled food for her hungry stomach. Pears! A modern recognizable food that she'd often hated eating in her mixed fruit bowls but now desired wholeheartedly. It brought her a sweet tiny reminder of home and wanted one in her hands to reconnect to that lost bond. Her hand waved at the tree as she used the other to usher the assassin to her side and she called out eagerly, "Altaïr, boost me!"
"Or I could get it" he stated simply since his skills would have it in his hands within three foot movements but she shot him a stern glare. No, she wanted to do this. He wasn't going to be caught between a stubborn woman and her goal so he decided to abide and rested his right foot against the trunk of the tree. He wasn't going to be leaning down after experiencing horrible vertigo and feigned a snort of disdain, "Fine. You women and your independence, the future must be so different."
"And we like it, sir" she yipped back smartly with a pleasant smile as she placed her right foot on top of his leg to boost herself onto the tree. She tried to pull herself up while he stared listlessly because he could already foresee her impending failure. Her hands were moving in all the wrong directions to grasp the trunk and her furious skidding wasn't helping her get up there any faster. When she threw herself against the trunk to grip it like a baby monkey, he held back a wince to the horrible attempt. Why couldn't she simply ask him to grab the fruit for her? It would've been easier and he wouldn't have thought less of her. . .but he would've teased her.
She fell down seconds later, scraping her arms on the way down and her feet landed atop of his. The sudden fall threw him off balance and caused him to lurch forward automatically to find stable posture. For the first time ever, the man's eyes widened in embarrassment to the position his leg joints locked him into and his lips parted in a silent exclamation. Vivian whined painfully as she was pressed tightly between the rough tree and the assassin's full body weight, already knowing her robes had ripped from the fall as the front of her skirt hiked up to the knee. Having the assassin pressed against her from behind added further mortification as their personal distance reached intimate proportions and the position was horribly awkward. Where were lecherous AC fangirls when Vivian needed them to take her place? Ezio's personality could play off of that snafu but Altaïr's conservative rigidness made it harder to do so. Goodness, the man was taller and heavier than she would've thought.
She tried to make light humor of it and laughed nervously to hide the red tint forming over her face as she joked, "Oh great, I have to marry you now."
"Vivian" he scolded irritably with a low growl to the bold words and yanked her off the tree as she rubbed her scraped elbows. Both were relieved to their previous social distance that spelled safety as Vivian smoothed down her robes to fix her appearance and hoped they hadn't torn somewhere indecent. Altaïr cleared his throat to dissipate his previous discomfort and pointed towards another tree that bore fruit to order quietly, "Let's go."
"But the fruit-" Vivian protested hastily since she wanted to eat normal pears but he was hearing none of it. He was almost tempted to break off a branch from a nearby small tree and whack her on the leg to move her like a stubborn mule. It certainly would've soothed the sudden rush of embarrassment since it was rare to feel such an emotion but Vivian tended to pull such restrained feelings to his exterior.
Before the assassin had the chance to reenact a farming scene with the woman, Malik popped in with an arm full of apples, pears, and dates. Unlike the duo, he had been successful in his exploration and declared proudly with a pearly grin, "No need."
Both Altaïr and Vivian gaped at the man since neither had fetched anything from the area. Well, Altaïr had found a melon but he'd eaten it through his walk to satiate his gurgling stomach so he didn't count it. It was embarrassing for a one-armed dai to beat them with enough fruit to last days and Altaïr questioned with surprise, "How did you get the fruit?"
The dai grinned cleverly to his gained skills and told them cryptically, "An assassin doesn't reveal his secrets."
Vivian stared at her stinging red hands and groaned miserably to her awful luck, "No fair, all I got were scratched hands and body groped by Altaïr. If we'd been in public, we'd be exchanging dowries and owning a homestead to grow crops on by now."
"I didn't grope you!" he seethed for such an insinuation because he wouldn't dare touch a woman unless she approved and he smacked away most people that drew near most of the time. Malik handed him the fruits he'd collected to occupy his hands before he decided to chase Vivian around in circles and stuffed a dusty apple into his mouth to silence any oncoming yells. The assassin curled his lips and his face wrinkled in disgust when his tongue touched the dusty waxy skin, spitting out the apple before his teeth became stuck.
Vivian shook her head humorously and placed her hands on the start of her hips as she joked lightly, "I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Besides, you just lost out on having the best wife this side of the Nile. I can sew, read, cook, recite popular tales, teach history, sing-"
"Ugh, that's not a gift" Altaïr shuddered visibly with a wrinkled nose to her list because her voice would not allure anything but a dying creature waiting to be put out of its misery. She nudged his side lightly with her elbow for the jab as she grabbed a few fruits from him to lighten the bundle since Malik had used his robes to create a makeshift basket. Out of all of his taunts, she actually enjoyed his remarks against her voice because she loved to wobble his mighty pedestal with her off-key singing. She leaned over to grab the poor abused apple he'd been silenced with to avoid throwing it away (food was precious in that time) and he added in with a sardonic tone, "That's the highest form of torture."
Malik couldn't help but laugh at this as he led the way back to the canoe. He could pick off a few more fruits if they needed along the way since it was clear that he'd beaten the two on foraging. Of course, his natural skills and carrying a sharpened walking stick made picking fruit incredibly easy but they didn't need to know that.
"I was spared the lifelong torment" he proclaimed wryly in regards to her witty banter in song and she cackled evilly in the classic 'wicked witch' tone to match his comment. Altaïr didn't know whether having her agree was better than her badger feistiness and nudged her to move along when she tried to mimic him and Apple of Eden by grabbing the fruit. She pouted to having her fun short-lived before she could act a parody scene from Snow White and he gazed at her to state with faint amusement, "Besides, assassins don't make homely husbands . . . but we do make flashy entrances."
Vivian laughed as he finally shared a joke about himself and grinned cheekily, "Ah, so you do have a humorous side. I was beginning to think brooding was your only one after endless fighting with Templars and the random boot of Maria to your face."
"I don't brood. . .and she didn't hit me. . .much" he scoffed to the absurd claim since he was on his way to a wise man but both Malik and Vivian shared a look that said otherwise. Damn it, he hated when they did that unison look that automatically shared messages that left him barred as the outsider. Vivian and Malik were complementing each other's personalities too much as time passed; he wanted Malik to stay closer to his side so he could bombard Vivian with verbal jabs. He wasn't a prankster or jokester but the two made quite a good partnership when he disagreed on a topic or place to visit. Malik was a cunning fox and Vivian was a witty badger- it didn't bode well for the cautious eagle.
He wanted to wipe the smirk off Malik's face and the peppy grin on Vivian's but muttered flatly, "Let's carry on."
"No, I forbid you to be broody" Vivian protested quickly to stop the man from giving himself premature wrinkles and scaring off wildlife with his evil eye. Altaïr ignored her request by dumping the fruit into her arms to occupy her further with the extra weight and strode forward into the brush. She scoffed under her breath as he avoided being goaded into her circle of gentle humor and called out, "This won't stop me, assassin man. I am the Energizer Bunny of the 1190s and you will turn that frown upside down-"
"You won't get any supper if you keep prattling on, woman" he shot back swiftly to quiet her peeps because he was fine being the broody one of the group- which he wasn't. He preferred to call it focused and pensive, not keen on having someone else micromanage his personality. Hmm, or maybe he was jumping to defensive conclusions again?
Malik threw a small twig at the back of his head and stated dryly, "We make supper while you eat it all."
Altaïr decided to concede the battle at that point as Vivian managed to use her secret weapon without needing to ask. Why had Malik decided to join Vivian's side? Well, at least he had fruit to enjoy for the day and he'd take humorous solace in knowing Vivian's hands were sore. The fact that her limbs were in pain didn't mean that her mouth was down for the count as well. . .
"We're off to see the wizard,
The wonderful wizard of POE's-"
"Vivian!"
"Sorry."
Well, they didn't find the island that day.
By nighttime, they were glad for the drop in temperature and chuckled together when they required thin blankets to keep warm after supper. Despite the annoying seasickness and different weather patterns, Altaïr had grown fond of traveling with others rather than alone. True, it took longer to pack everything to move but the companionship made the silence more bearable. After scrubbing their dishes and placing them in boiled water to prevent any malicious bacteria from clinging on, Vivian plopped herself down next to Altaïr as the man sharpened his knives. During the day, Malik was her talkative partner due to their proximity in the canoe but he shifted focus to his maps and books during the night. That left the broody Altaïr to fill the open spot and although he hated chatting, she focused on his likes to talk about.
She'd made small talk about Damascus steel to learn more about its history as Altaïr admitted he'd often help the blade smiths in Masyaf to learn his way around a smithy. Due to his solitary life on the road during missions, he didn't want to be caught unaware with a damaged weapon and learned how to improvise with a bad blade. His trusty sword had been crafted by a master smith and himself as Altaïr shaped the scorching steel ingot to forge it into a mighty weapon that failed to leave his side. Although he wasn't sharpening the weapon at the moment, Vivian would wait like a patient sheep to see it one day- when it wasn't cutting down enemies.
"Do you want me to sharpen that halberd?" he offered sincerely and pointed to the weapon she'd looted in Giza as it rested in its sheath on top of her packs. Both Malik and Altaïr were in agreement that she should stay away from the weapon until she could handle its weight and perform basic attacks. . .which wouldn't be anytime soon. Vivian, however, nodded vehemently with pride that he offered to do as such and fought not to gush out her appreciation. If she'd been back at home and seen weapons cleaning, she wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now, whenever she watched him work, it brought the same euphoria as playing the game since he was meticulously careful in each movement. Plainly put, seeing him at work was like foreplay.
When he applied oil to clean it free of waxes or skin oils, Vivian smirked naughtily to chide her companion and jested with a sultry tone, "Oh yeah, show that naughty halberd who's boss-"
"Vivian!" he scolded with stunned surprise and she burst into laughter when she caught the bewildered look on his face. Had her voice thrown him off-guard completely? She shook her hands to dismiss her whole joke entirely before he decided to use the halberd on her and fought down her fits of laughter. Even Malik laughed from his spot next to Altaïr, dropping his quill for a moment to finish his bout before returning to his work. She smiled innocently when his eyes narrowed and he lectured sternly, "Woman, have you no shame? A weapon is an extension of your limb-"
"You bet it is" she grinned cheekily with a wag of her arched eyebrows and handed him a whetstone to sharpen any dull areas on the blade. Altaïr didn't know whether to believe her words or ignore the ridiculously inappropriate phrases. Why couldn't he be stuck alongside a man from the thirteenth century? At least then, they would be similar in privacy. Weapons were valuable to their owners, especially his, and he wondered if Vivian was remotely interested in weapon care due to her history interests. He took the sharpening tool from her hand and she pointed to a vertical point on the halberd to suggest, "Sharpen that scuffed area right there and make it gleam like a star for momma."
He stopped cleaning the weapon since it was the first step before doing anything else and eyed the woman suspiciously to demand, "Are you intoxicated? Or are you actually . . . aroused by this?"
"You said aroused" she giggled girlishly as she'd yet to catch any kind of adulterated words from him and Malik broke into another fit of laughter at thinking the same. Altaïr was ready to chuck the halberd at her tent to slice it open in retaliation but decided that the weapon deserved a nice cleaning after being in awful Templar hands. Vivian quieted her rambunctious laughter as she resumed her calm even toned voice to state pleasantly, "I wanted to joke with you but I forget you're not lenient on certain topics. Your dedication to keep everything around you in working shape is admirable and I'd actually like to learn about weapon maintenance. Who knows, there might be a smith trait inside this little form of mine."
He scoffed with amusement to her petite frame and smirked to tease, "You'd fall over hammering an ingot into a blade."
"There we go, smith humor!" she encouraged chirpily as she found relational balance in their interaction and clapped her hands to continue their exchange. Altaïr couldn't chastise her for carefree fun about smithing and allowed the comment as he resumed his meticulous cleaning. Vivian called it a success since Altaïr still carried that aura of mystery that had been unfolding with Ezio's character as the franchise focused on his entire life whereas Altaïr only had a single game (she cried in regretful shame after playing Chronicles though).
"Who knows, you might just earn yourself a new assistant" Malik chuckled softly as he drew careful lines over his pristine paper and Altaïr resisted from smacking his ink bottle over the book. He'd tried it once after their friendship renewed and the dai had unscrewed another underneath his desk to bathe him in the ink to return the favor. Altaïr learned the hard way that he'd never anger the dai because he would lose valuable robes over it (he did use them as rags though).
"Or set the room on fire" Altaïr muttered listlessly since Vivian would somehow manage to ruin a safe room with her inadequate skills. The woman was sharp as she wielded her knowledge like a blade but shift that weapon into her hands and the result would be catastrophic. It caused him to pity her but at the same time, knowing that she was determined to improve herself took that mindset away.
Vivian scribbled down a note filled with Arabic and English words as she kept blending her main tongue to the dominant one. Practice made perfect, right? Altaïr couldn't ignore her loud scribbling as she pressed the quill down onto the paper and sighed dismally, "What are you doing now, you rambunctious badger?"
"A song. . .for you" she smiled brightly with pride because this time, she wouldn't utter a peep. His brow furrowed with concern to this new development because music should never be associated with the woman- if anything, it should've been a law. She handed him the small strip of paper and explained eagerly, "It's a humorous anecdote on my assumptions of how you feel about me. Trust me, there's nothing inappropriate in there."
Altaïr read the paper quietly since nobody had ever written him a song (of all things) and objected flatly, "I'm not singing this-"
Malik cleared his throat to clearly state that he should do otherwise because the dai wanted to hear it. If he didn't, he could expect to find an article of clothing soaking in black ink. The assassin groaned miserably to his unfortunate situation (cursing the two meddling gremlins) and decided on a compromise as he read aloud:
"You're so annoying, you pitiful, tiny historian.
I'd like to help you, but I don't know if I can.
I thought you were nuts,
But you're really, really, reallynuts.
Every time I move, you find me and start hanging around.
Just another lame excuse to see me.
How can it not give me a frown?
It's almost enough to go on a Templar killing spree.
But you keep me from feeling down.
You know, I'm actually glad to see you.
Maybe I'm the one who's . . . nuts."
"I find that shrewdly perceptive on the last part" Malik joked good-naturedly about his friend and Altaïr growled at being deemed insane. He was even more infuriated at knowing he understood that futuristic jargon since he specifically ordered no more of it. The dangerous weapon in his hand sated his irritancy as the dai mused with an amused tone, "Even as a legume, you have a tough shell-"
"I get it" he muttered sharply but it softened when Vivian wrote 'For Altaïr' in Arabic rather than her natural Roman script. Well, she wasn't hopelessly lost if she managed to avoid singing and written with decent penmanship. He shook his head as he folded the scrap of paper to tuck it into one of his pockets and sighed aloud, "Maybe I am being driven insane by both of you but it's better to be driven manic by friends than alone in the desert."
As if their night hadn't been lively enough, Altaïr flew into defense mode when they'd been ready to retire for the night and he was changing into his sleepwear. Now that he was far from civilization, he felt the rarity of safety and enjoyed climbing into bed to sleep his worries away. Of course, that wasn't going to happen that night. Vivian surprised them when she gasped from the shore below as she'd gone down to fetch her last pack for a few items. They had made camp on a decent hill since they'd seen crocodiles in the early day further north, a fact that frightened them (it was also why he wanted to keep his knives sharp). Altaïr was barely slipping into his cotton trousers when she declared in a panicked voice that echoed, "Oh no! Aw man, that's a dead goat! Oh my- augh, no!"
In his haste to help his friend, he accidentally fell down on his face as he fought to shimmy into his stubborn pants. Hitting his left cheek on a leather boot increased his frustration as he gave up on fixing his trousers and stumbled out of his tent's entrance. He barely managed to tie them as he flew down the hill to find her and whatever had killed the animal she'd spotted. Malik was already a few feet ahead of him as her hands waved in the air at the bottom of the bank and she exclaimed dramatically, "Its guts are all over the place! It's all chopped up and spread around-"
"Are you sure it's a goat? It's rather obscured under the moonlight" Malik asked her for clarification since his candle couldn't see past a few feet and Vivian was already half-hidden. Altaïr, meanwhile, was trying to catch his breath after flying down the hill and Vivian slowly inched forward towards the area in question.
She took the courage to walk forward towards the dark spot that frightened her instantly upon arrival and inspected the 'dead goat'. D'oh, why had she decided to come down during the night? This is what horror movies were made from- did she learn nothing from Jaws? The men waited in suspense to make sure nothing attacked their companion near the water and her voice shook with a tone of relief, "No wait, it's just a piece of cloth."
She scurried over to quickly grab a brown cloth she'd accidentally dropped earlier since she'd grabbed everything without looking back. When Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad told you to begin building the tents, you listened without question. She smiled innocently as she saw the irritated frown on Altaïr's face as the earlier order came back to bite her in the butt and chuckled nervously, "Sorry, I had a poo brain moment. False alarm, people."
"Poo brain?" he repeated with incredulity to her words as his hands shot up to pull at his short brown hair and she nodded innocently. Was the woman daft at this hour of the night? Did she not know he almost broke a foot running to help her? Not to mention, falling face first onto his shoes?! Damn it, he ran down the hill without shoes and only now just realized that his feet were covered in wet soggy dirt. This was not the way he wanted to retire for the night and pointed towards camp to order sternly, "Vivian, it is too late to ponder about your crazy phrases. Go to bed."
Vivian wasn't ready to bid goodnight to the duo and squared her shoulders to protest, "But-"
"To bed, Vivian" Altaïr stated firmly with a nonnegotiable expression that caused her to concede to his decision. It wasn't hard because his disheveled appearance told her he'd run for her sake and it had turned out to be a false alarm. That wasn't a good idea when you traveled with the impassively awesome Altaïr.
Like an obedient child, she obeyed her leader as she hugged her wet cloth and scuttled up the dirt hill to head for her tent. Malik eyed the shoeless assassin as his tunic was sloppily in place and his trousers were lower than they should've been. Frankly, the man looked absolutely nothing like the assassin he was as the simple clothes gave him a peasant or farmer type of appearance. His friend might snap and lecture the woman but there was compassion in his physical appearance since running like lightning while underdressed didn't spell uncaring. Altaïr caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes and wagged a finger to state firmly, "Not a word, Malik."
With that said, he stomped back towards camp with a frown since the cold dirt wedging between his toes was not comfortable at all.
A/N: Wow, this chapter came out longer than I anticipated. Hopefully, the pace was right and the grammar was correct since I've been busy since Thanksgiving with school and life itself. Again, we see Vivian's lack of survival skills as she's taken away from civilization and Altaïr's dislike for open water. I think only Malik is having the best time of his life, I'm thinking of having him build a prosthetic since there were good examples in prior eras- quite a few from Africa. This adventure is testing Altaïr's will and patience, especially after almost breaking his leg to help Vivian's false alarm of a croc. In the next chapter, the trio will visit the Valley of Kings for a moment Altaïr won't soon forget.
Thank you for the continuous reviews, I love your feedback and send virtual hugs for taking the time to do them. Kudos to my loyal reviewers, I love you guys.
KrnYong: From reading his codex, Altaïr loved his kids but for some reason, the books from the game kind of portrayed him as distant once they grew- which I totally don't like. I want him to be nervous and worried for his little bundle back in Masyaf and honored to bond with his child, no matter how old they become. I'm in agreement about Malik, he's the bro that will have your back covered and smack you upside the head to knock sense into you. It almost makes me wistful as to why I didn't make this a Vivian/Malik story; curse my fangirlness. Ah well, I'll give him his cup full of happiness in the story.
Dimples1476: The next chapter is dedicated to you because I'd been trying to find an over the top humor bit about the Valley of the Kings and you nailed it! I love rewriting songs to fit the AC world and Altaïr just hates them when Vivian sings.
Lostwithoutdoubt: I'm always glad to know I keep their interactions balanced and I love each of the characters. Altaïr was always very stoic and determined to keep to his cause in the game, never showing a lot of emotions. Again, this was set by his environment but now that he's free of Al Mualim's influence, he can explore what was condemned as an emotional contaminant- babies bring nothing but warmth. I love the 'slowly two' comment since Vivian's constantly trying to impress him. Let's just say her future haircuts will not be placing her on his good side. As for Malik, the next outburst will be in south Sudan when Altaïr's daily hunt goes wrong in the humorous sense. Malik is very restrained and in control of his emotions while Altaïr is a firecracker when poked the wrong way, which is a perfect combo for the little flame known as Vivian.
WhatTheCensoredXD: Thank you for loving the story, I'm always glad to hear from new readers. Vivian is a normal non-violent stick wielding woman full of innocent humor so thanks for enjoying her character; the poor thing needs a candy bar in that archaic era. I'm glad you love their adventures because Altaïr definitely didn't enjoy this one.
ShizukaRen-Hime: Ooh, I loved your baby metaphor. Malik always tries his best to keep his companions without stress but yes, Altaïr is human and bound to feel like any new father. I'm sure Vivian will be making up nicknames to call the little bundle since she's trying to see the good side of it all. While Altaïr is logical, she's hopelessly optimistic and doesn't hesitate to help the obstinate assassin. Sorry you have no internet at home, another reader is having technical issues too so my heart goes out to you both after enduring the same this year.
Next Time: When Disney Meets Altaïr
As he headed downhill, Vivian was struck with an old movie song that had filled her ears years ago as his robes fluttered in the wind like a cape as he treaded through the desert. She intentionally fell behind to walk in pace with Malik and shared her plan since he had become her brother in breaking Altaïr's stoic mask. The dai never hesitated to poke the assassin with innocent good-natured humor and with a Cheshire grin, Vivian began a humorous song that broke the silence in the valley.
"Make way!
Here he comes!
Ring bells! Bang the drums!
Are you gonna love this guy! (Altaïr's face fell when she waved her hands towards him)
Grand Master Alti! Fabulous he!
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad
Genuflect, show some respect
Down on one knee!
Now, try your best to stay calm
Brush up your Sunday salaam
Then come and meet his spectacular coterie (Altaïr fought down a sigh when she pointed directly at him)
Grand Master Alti!
Mighty is he!
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad
Strong as ten regular men, definitely!
He faced the Templar galloping hordes
A hundred bad guys with swords (she imitated fighting with an invisible sword)
Who sent those goons to their lords?"
Altaïr turned around swiftly with stunned bewilderment when Malik joined her tune, "Why, Grand Master Alti!"
Vivian waved her hand through the air with a silly grin to sing, "He's got seventy-five Levant hawks."
Malik feigned shock, ignoring Altaïr's heated glare, and asked with a singing voice that could've won a Grammy, "Saker falcons?"
Vivian clapped her hands once as she squared her shoulders to stand straight and continued, "He's got fifty-three! When it comes to exotic-type stocks-"
Malik leaned over to nudge his higher shoulders with hers and intervened in the song in cue to ask, "Has he got a zoo?
Vivian clapped him on the back with delight as she drew him into a one-armed hug and sang, "I'm telling you, it's a world-class menageri-i-i-i-e."
Altaïr truly began to question the sanity of Malik since the man had never shared Vivian's awful singing and his own for standing there to hear it. Why did most of her songs involve him in humorous situations? Vivian released the dai to skitter forward like a ballerina to match a dainty feminine woman and placed the back of her right hand over her forehead to continue with her song.
"Grand Master Alti!
Handsome is he, Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad
That physique! How can I speak? (She fanned herself with a hand)
Weak at the knee
Well, get on out in that square
Adjust your vein and prepare
To gawk and grovel and stare at Grand Master Alti! (She intertwined her hands to imitate a swoon)
There's no question this Alti's alluring
Never ordinary, never boring
Everything about the man just plain impresses
He's a winner, he's a whiz, a wonder!
He's about to pull my heart asunder!
And I absolutely love the way he dresses!"
Altaïr pointed at the clear blue sky with an outraged scowl for being put in such a humiliating position and dared angrily, "If you admire my work, I order you beings to strike me down with lightning at once. I refuse to hear this torture!"
Malik ignored his dramatic demands as they stood on higher ground and continued, "He's got ninety-five white Persian monkeys."
Vivian clapped her hands giddily as she ran in small circles around the dai to portray a happy observant and sang, "He's got the monkeys! Let's see the monkeys!"
He stopped her short run by grabbing her shoulder and patted Vivian on the head like a child to calm her dramatization. Altaïr wanted to rip his hood off and stomp over it in anger as they viewed him like a ghost to their spectacle. Vivian's eyes were comically large as she hopped in place and Malik smiled as he went on, "And to view them, he charges no fee."
Vivian pretended to swoon as she placed a hand to her forehead and sang dreamily, "He's generous, so generous."
Malik raised his arm in an arc over the horizon as he stood on top of the small dune and declared, "He's got assassins, he's got servants and flunkies."
Vivian faked a military salute as she continued the next verse,
"Proud to work for him
They bow to his whim (she brought her arms down to imitate praise)
Love serving him (she puckered her lips for emphasis)
They're just lousy with loyalty to Alti!"
Thank you for reading and please leave a review for Vivian to chew on- the poor thing needs it. Have a beautiful day or calm night at where you're at, dear readers!