A/N: I made a cover for the story featuring the cast but you can see a bigger view on my profile by clicking either the photobucket link at the start or story cover under the story information. I've also updated story info for the sequel I'll write to this tale due to its love by the readers and I've added songs to add the overall feel of the upcoming tale.
Music Inspiration: Bear McCreary- "The Mercy of the Living"
Breaking of the Fellowship?
"Staring at the lake won't make the item magically appear" Vivian advised gently as the sparkling water betrayed none of its underwater secrets to the duo. Her hand gently patted his left shoulder blade in sympathy but also to make a sudden grasp to the leather strap holding his crossbow in case he decided to plunge into the lake's depths solo.
They had been scouring every inch of the area around the lake on the canoe and after making holes in earth to resemble gophers, Altaïr had given up on finding anything useful in the forest. Neither the land, lake, or people were handing out any clues and it left the trio blind as to where to go next (not to mention, frustrated). This had left Altaïr in a cantankerous mood that only kept growing over the days and Vivian's perky demeanor had been skyrocketed to maximum in an attempt to keep him levelheaded. She tried to stay by his side as much as she could but when even Malik ran out of stamina to keep searching, Vivian had pushed herself further. Loyalty was a powerful energy booster and she'd tagged alongside him, even with aching knees, to hike wherever he wished. The man was like a relentless Terminator and as she'd heaved for air to enter her lungs, she realized the man was truly indestructible if he could defeat her and Malik.
Thankfully, they had returned to the side of the lake where their inn was before Vivian collapsed out of exhaustion. Malik had called it a day a few hours back to wash up and read a book but Vivian stuck to Altaïr's side like a barnacle as they gazed at the lake. She knew they hadn't advanced anywhere since they arrived two weeks ago and they were almost at the third week mark, leaving Altaïr frustrated since he had a short temper as it was. Shedding a brighter light on their situation was slowly beginning to fail and Vivian had to find new ways to tear his attention away from the mission to prevent him from becoming borderline obsessive.
"We're getting closer, I know it, so let that keep your optimism going" she encouraged kindly as she watched the calm ripples of the lake, wondering where the item could be. She'd give away all of her money if just one tiny itty bitty sign greeted them! Hikes yielded nothing and sweeps around the lake with the canoe offered the same since they couldn't see through water. Vivian doubted there was dangerous life underwater but she wasn't comfortable with Altaïr diving in since he was barely a beginner. What could she do if something went wrong? Water was dangerous territory, especially for someone who just grasped the basics, and Vivian doubted she or Malik could lug his unconscious body if the worst happened. Scratch that, the worst would be him heading off alone without them and doing so.
Altaïr snorted lightly because optimism wouldn't bring him that item any quicker and stated coolly, "Standing around won't do anything either."
"You can't just swim the entire lake in days, there's depth and oh- boats that can whack you on the head" she reminded flatly about the number one problem that could kill him if he wasn't careful. His newfound persistence could blind him if he wasn't careful and Vivian didn't hesitate to voice it in order to protect him. If he couldn't see what she saw in him as they investigated . . . it would begin to worry her. She would be by his side through thick and thin but she would make logical- sometimes tough- decisions that would keep him safe. With that in mind, she took two steps forward to stand ahead of him and pointed to the boats moving about in their routine ferries, "We can use the canoe in the less populated areas first to dive and then, if we can, take our chances in the heavier traffic when it's lowest."
"This job is never easy" he sighed tiredly since they'd spanned the entire land within the week without many breaks and had lost sleep over it. If they could focus their entire time on the lake, maybe something would surface. He had planned numerous outings over the land and only had underwater trips in mind now since digging holes in the earth didn't seem to be any better.
"Well, it's why we have the best for it, don't we?" she replied warmly since he was the only one who could do all of this until someone else could carry on his work. Although he was as grumpy as an alley cat, she tried to cheer him up by fluffing his ego to the max since the eagle was exhausted. She took notice of the dark circles under his eyes since he'd been staying up writing and formulating plans, heading out early every day to continue investigating. Nonetheless, his brown orbs pierced through his tired face with shrewd perception as he eyed the lake carefully. There had been nights when she'd woken up to use the chamber pot and with embarrassment, found him scribbling away next to a burning candle on its stand. It was during quiet moments like that that Vivian could see why he was admired by his assassins and the part that held fondness for him grew at seeing his dedication. Of course, he fussed about her losing sleep when she wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm during the night but she didn't argue to maintain peace.
She found her hand slipping into his to offer a sympathetic squeeze, unafraid to the breach in personal space. The passing weeks, not to mention months, had bridged their friendship to a point where he didn't reject or chastise her as he would've in the past. It was a great boost in their trust when he squeezed her hand as she offered a kind smile to dull the gnawing worries in his mind because it certainly would do neither of them any good. Her heart rate skyrocketed to the gentle touch since his hand could crush hers in one squeeze if he willed it and she whispered tentatively, "You're not alone in this, Altaïr. Let's get a light snack and formulate a plan with our canoe since sundown is still hours away. You can sleep for an hour or so and don't tell me no because I've noticed your sleeping habits as of late."
He'd been ready to argue his energy level was fine but he'd barely slept three hours the night before as he twisted in bed repeatedly with ideas for the search. How could he sleep when the perfect idea could spring on him within the sea already floating in his mind? Vivian's look, however, was nonnegotiable and she'd force him into bed and lock the room to enforce that needed sleep- even if she had to knock him out. She'd never tried it after being on the receiving end repeatedly but Malik was always happy to silence the assassin when he was fussy. She wanted him to get a decent sleep to jumpstart his neurons back to their stupendous capacity and smiled, "It's time for me to purge my brain with ideas, we're a team and I'm trying my best to lighten your load. I'm sure standing on my head will get the juices flowing."
"Or break your neck" he stated dryly to her strange habits since her singing and erratic dances were enough to leave him bewildered. Vivian merely smiled impishly as she brought back his witty sarcasm and the corners of his mouth lifted at seeing her original intent. He considered himself lucky for having her by his side and there were many times as of late that he took it for granted but at the moment . . . his mind was clear to cherish it. He released her hand after one last squeeze of appreciation for her gesture, inadvertently causing her ears to betray her with reddened tips. For once, he spared teasing her flustered appearance and merely informed her with light amusement lacing his tone, "Tell Malik I'll be in our room."
She watched him leave with concerned eyes since that side of the familiar Altaïr she'd come to know and love- eh, platonically! - could disappear quickly when stressed. No matter how tough life became, she'd be the Sam to his Frodo or the Robin to his Batman. She flexed her fingers in disbelief to holding the deadly hand of the best assassin ever and living to tell the tale! Her inner fangirl danced with glee to the once in a lifetime touch but she simply breathed surreally as she gazed at her hand, "Ooh. I just touched the mighty hand of Altaïr himself!"
Her eyes widened with glee since nobody could say the same in her time and resisted from hugging her own hand as she gushed, "This is the stuff of legends made to be told to grandchildren . . . well, more like fans because I doubt Altaïr will have the marketable resale of Mario and Sonic in thirty years."
Seconds later, she fell to temptation and held her hand close to her chest- hoping that nobody would think she was insane.
Altaïr yawned as he stood alone inside his shared room, wondering whether the silence inside was good or bad for his tired mind. He was constantly on edge towards finding the piece of Eden but his team was right, he couldn't bury himself into the ground with exhaustion. That would be the opposite of succeeding, right? He bit into a fresh crunchy pear to finish the balanced meal Vivian had insisted on preparing for him and had been amused to see her plow her way towards the inn's well to grab him a drink of water. She took far better care of him than he could and had accepted her generosity while she'd headed downstairs to play a little fly on the wall with Malik as her buddy. He grabbed his traveling journal off the table with his free hand as it and a few other books were lying about for his perusing pleasure. Of course, he kept his important codex and journal under lockdown in a secret spot since he didn't trust any area to be void of sneaky Templars or snooping burglars.
He noticed a thinner brown book to the right side that wasn't his and he picked it up with curiosity, opening the cover with his thumb to peer inside. Was it Malik's? The man did carry more books than he and Vivian combined. The Arabic script filled the inside cover as the humorous words Badger Land hid the true author's name to remain incognito if anyone managed to capture it anytime soon. He released a scoff of amusement between his lips to her outlandish words but this was Vivian- no words were needed to describe her quirkiness. He carefully flipped to the next page to make sure it hadn't been written into since he promised not to read her private journal and wanted to avoid a catastrophic fight. This book, however, was the sketch book she was hardly without during travel and he placed his half-eaten pear down to gaze into the mind of that little screwball. Of course, if anyone else dared to call her the same, he would pulverize them for insulting his little partner in crime.
The first few pages held images of the vast Egyptian landscape and humorous caricatures that he complained about when he'd seen them a year ago. What in blazes was a Jedi anyway? He had to admit, her petite fingers were delicate in each stroke. The next continued to show the horizon of the Valley of the Kings, a wild rabbit, and Malik waving a ridiculous sword attachment on his missing arm. A few nameless caricatures followed that he was certain belonged from her strange world. The forest of the south Sudan filled a page, another held him cleaning his sword from a dorsal view- he never let her get too close, did he? He balked at the next one that held him drooling with Malik drawing on his face in a caricature style and another with his hair in ridiculous styles- were those buns?! A man with shoulder-length hair and outlandish clothes that painted a sitting brunette woman followed and the next included her tent at camp. His brow rose as he found a small metal fence encircling a square one-level home and he realized this was her home in the future. This was her azure Berkeley home that she longed to return to and looked to see it had a small garden with short grass surrounding it.
He skipped forward to avoid any more intimate drawings and found a chicken, followed by a smiling man that oddly resembled him but wore a more elaborate outfit- was this Ezio? Was this that skirt chasing playboy? He swore that man filled her mind more than she admitted and grit his teeth to that. What was it about the man that allured her? Grumbling under his breath, he flipped forward about three pages (why did he need so many?) but found empty pages afterwards as Vivian hit her current end. He ran through the rest of pages with a lazy stare since he had nothing else to do but stopped when a new page of sketches appeared.
His brow furrowed as he found four different angles of himself drawn onto the paper. Each focused on different features of his face and he had to admit, her skills were far better than he could've done with his own face. He turned the page to find the page split into four square sections and his robes were detailed from the hood, chest, and legs in two different views. What had she drawn that for? He found himself washing clothes on the next page and scribbles in the English language pointed to certain areas of sketch. What was that little badger doing? Curious, he flipped the page and blinked with surprise to find a panoramic back view of himself gazing into the Valley of the Kings. The back of his robes were highly detailed as the previous pages and he could distinctly see the sealed tombs. The next page depicted him meditating in the center of a field- had she followed him? No, he would've found her with her lack of stealth.
The next page held a detailed portrait of his head and shoulders without the white robes. He was taken aback to the close view but after a year on the road, could understand how she managed to grasp each detail. The question was: why him? Where were the Malik images to balance it out? He'd already seen the numerous Ezio sketches in earlier pages so that was balanced. He flipped through the rest of the book but found nothing else, just the majority at the start and the six pages in the far center of the book. It caused an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he gazed at his hand drawn image due to its intimate perspective. How long had she been drawing him without him knowing it? His lips curved in a faint smile at seeing the dedication in her work since nobody had ever bothered to write, much less, draw him.
The door opened to reveal Vivian with a charcoal piece in hand but her eyes darted between her book and the assassin instantly. Uh-oh. She swallowed nervously as her private drawings were discovered by the model himself and hoped he wouldn't jump to the right conclusion. Being pinned with spying or breaching privacy would be better than him realizing that she'd begun to harbor feelings for him. How could she possibly explain that without fracturing their friendship? Keeping a straight face, she managed to keep her voice even while her stomach fluttered wildly with nervousness on the inside and piped up, "Find anything interesting?"
"You've been drawing me" he stated quietly as he scrutinized the drawing, almost demanding it answer his question. How long had she been drawing him? Watching him? He wanted to know why she'd chosen to draw him and why he wanted to reject the warm feelings it surfaced within him.
"Not any more than I have Ezio" she grinned cheekily but she was going bonkers on the inside as her mind craved the book back desperately. The man was incredibly sharp and if he picked up a whiff of her affection, everything could fall out into the open. The weeks on the lake had only served to strengthen the inkling of affection she'd begun to discover upon arriving and she feared its growing development. There were dire consequences for daring to attempt it and the time-space continuum would slap her into oblivion for it. She wanted her book safely in her hands and tried to keep her voice steady as she asked innocently, "Finished perusing?"
He didn't answer right away and she approached him quietly, peering at the sketches to state softly, "You offered a very good model for my skills but if it unsettles you, I will stop."
It would've been incredibly easy and the most logical route to politely ask to be opted out of her work but Altaïr was not exactly ordinary. He wanted to remove the warm flutter in his chest at all costs and ridding himself of the sketches was the easiest method in his mind. Unfortunately, he didn't stop to think who he would inadvertently hurt with his response.
"My hair isn't scruffy, it is cut short and grows downward" he stated simply as he pointed to random areas or tiny mistakes to dissipate the disturbing warm feeling in his chest. He didn't like it and after experiencing it once with Maria, he didn't want it back anytime soon to prevent another fiasco of his love life. It was best to reject any possibility of seeking female attention to keep his mind clear on his goal and this was Vivian. Out of all women, why Vivian? She was his companion only and he'd best remember that before he made a complete fool of himself. He cleared his throat to lie through his teeth to protect himself and rambled on useless reasons, "My eyes are too close together and I frown more than that- it's practically a natural glower! Not to mention, my cheekbones are higher and my face is slimmer. I'm not Ezio, Vivian. Keep a steadier hand and you might make these good."
He handed her the book to exit the room quickly to escape the tight feeling in his chest that replaced the old warm one. Lying wasn't good (it was shameful) but it was a decent alternative to the uncertain truth clouding his mind. What could he say? That nobody had dared to do such a thing and it was strangely heartwarming that one chose to. Vivian, on the other hand, was crestfallen to see months' worth of sketches cast aside because she'd been careful in getting each detail perfectly right. She'd even bought pigments to begin her first attempts at painting by mixing the colors with egg whites or gum Arabic . . . but it was for nothing.
I thought they were good, she thought dejectedly and closed her book to swallow down the criticism with grace. As a level-headed person, she would take his opinion to mind and make the adjustments to better her skills rather than fight a lost battle. There weren't many things she was good at and drawing always brought her the simple joy that maybe she could add it to her repertoire. However, it seemed that her model had spoken on her results and she thought glumly, I guess I'll have to work even harder . . . but I tried my best. What if my best simply isn't good enough? After all, he mastered artwork in his codex that puts mine to shame already . . . maybe he does have a point.
Altaïr practically flew down the stairs to escape Vivian since the greater distance between them, the less likely he would say something stupid. The only familiar face in the inn was only a few meters away and he shot forward to seek advice from the only man he trusted in that land. He sat down across from Malik while his friend wrote down notes about Lake Victoria to go over with his maps since bringing them down would draw an eye. His quiet scribbles halted when his friend released a long sigh that told him he'd done something idiotic or regretful (or both) and halted writing to hear the story. He didn't have to ask at all since he was the only one Altaïr could seek advice from and his friend muttered with shame, "I think I might've crushed Vivian's potential in order to protect myself."
"You didn't throw her down the stairs again, did you?" he asked quickly since Altaïr carried a strong hand and Vivian wasn't quick enough to dodge a playful swat in close quarters. He remembered seeing her fly down Masyaf's stairs and land like a stranded turtle when he'd been chasing her down. Altaïr directed a firm glare with offense for being dared to be called a woman beater and Malik raised his hand to calm his friend down. He was used to their quarrels nowadays since they could be solved rather quickly with an apology and asked carefully, "What did you do? I'm certain she'll be happy within the hour."
Altaïr wasn't ready to admit the subject of her drawings since his own reaction hadn't mixed well and he was still trying to find a balance. It didn't take much on his part to crush Vivian's spirit and he hated to do so intentionally for self-preservation. He needed to find a way to mend what he'd done and explained with a low voice carrying guilt, "She. . .well, I might have criticized her sketching to make up for my own inadequacy."
Malik's eyebrow quirked since criticizing could turn bad when it came from Altaïr's mouth. At best, it would be catastrophic and Malik had become the assassins' most renowned peacemaker whenever Altaïr was involved with new recruits (he'd had a 50% rate in making them cry thus far). Subtlety in speech was not as mastered as it was with his other skills and the dai hesitated to find out the answer when he asked slowly with abating breath, "Criticized what and how?"
Altaïr pinched the bridge of his nose since he wanted to tread carefully with his words to avoid Malik verbally exploding on him. He cared for Vivian as a sister and that attachment would turn him hostile if he learned he'd hurt her feelings over false facts. It wasn't as if it was intentional but Altaïr had to protect himself from whatever foul thing was causing his chest to grow warm at the mere sight of her. The fingers of his left hand tapped against the wooden table as he murmured carefully, "She made a few portraits that were . . . they were stunning but I couldn't tell her that-"
"Why not? What is so hard about you giving others a single compliment?" he asked shrewdly since Vivian was sensitive when it came to three things: having her intelligence mocked, insulting her appearance (what woman wasn't?), and having her skills demeaned. There wasn't much that affected her since she took most of Altaïr's snarky comments in stride (most people would've shoved him into the nearest well) but Malik hoped he hadn't dealt a knockout punch. He'd witnessed it on the outskirts of Giza when his friend inadvertently struck Vivian an emotional blow and wasn't eager to see it again. Malik narrowed his eyes to make the assassin feel the size of a tiny ant and leaned forward with his arm on the table to demand quietly, "Again, you better speak your mind or I'll be mad for not being trusted either."
Altaïr fought the urge to wriggle in his seat out of having to disclose personal information and mumbled with a tone that bordered on sheepish, "She drew . . . I'll kill you if you laugh . . . she drew me. Nobody has done such a . . . kind . . . gesture and it unnerved me completely. I hate that I liked it and it made me feel . . . I . . . it doesn't matter. Being caught didn't help-"
Malik ran his hand through his short locks before burying his head in it and asked, "Let me guess, you asserted your dominance by defending yourself with a personal attack. I thought we taught you not to be petty anymore!"
"Well, it turns out I'm in severe need of maintenance lessons" Altaïr shot back with a grumpy frown and crossed his arms since this wasn't giving him any answers. If anything, his need for advice seemed to have shifted into an interrogation! He acknowledged he was in the wrong- otherwise, he wouldn't be there- and pointed out hastily, "I think I hurt her, even if she isn't showing it- she's become good in masking her emotions. I made a foolish mistake by correcting her entire work and I hate that I'm going to have to apologize because a sad face from her makes me want to punch myself."
In frustrated afterthought, Altaïr almost pulled at his hood in an attempt to sate the need to hit something and questioned sharply, "Why do I want to punch myself?"
"Well, at least you admit you're wrong" Malik stated calmly but Altaïr could hear a little sarcasm in his tone but he deserved it. The dai noticed Vivian reappear at the bottom of the stairs with her book in hand, tucked behind her back as if it was an item that brought immediate shame. Usually, she kept it by her hips or against her chest to show her carefree joy in her work but that was a behavioral sign he took into mind. Altaïr sulked in his spot as the man shot him a heated glare but the assassin failed to see his other companion as his backside faced her. She took notice of them as she crossed the room, her gaze faltering for a moment on the two before focusing past them. With haste, she scuttled past the tables to head to the open kitchen where cooks made the meals for paying patrons.
"Could I use this?" Vivian asked politely in regards to an open fire that wasn't cooking anything at all and a plan had sparked in her mind. The cook turned around to pay attention and she motioned that she wanted to use the papers for kindling since it would help to keep the fire burning. After a nod of agreement, she gazed at her sketches with disappointment since she'd really loved the assassin robes and the Valley of the Kings. Were they really bad? A reminder that there had to be sacrifices to flourish one's true potential encouraged her to start from scratch and she began tearing each page into squares for safer burning. Nobody could ever know they were there at all and Altaïr didn't like her art so what would be the use of keeping them for him to have? She had hoped to give one to him as a farewell gift before setting off to Madagascar as a souvenir of their time together but she'd have to restart everything.
"I didn't know they allowed Vivian to cook" Malik stated with light surprise as he spotted her with his peripheral vision at the kitchen station. Altaïr, however, realized what she was truly doing (that insane but brave little badger) and refrained from bonking his friend over the head with his own rolled up papers. He had no doubt the dai would beat him down with one of his scrolls for being struck for no absolute reason.
Altaïr caught a better angle of his companion when he turned around and watched her throw shreds of paper into the fire. Did she-? Were those-? He stood up with graceful haste to cross the distance with all the speed he could muster, avoiding people on their way to the tables, and spotted shreds of burning paper with familiar outlines he'd just seen. Had she seriously burned her work at his opinion? Didn't she know better than to listen to his fussing by now? His pace quickened to reach her just as she finished dropping the last two squares over the others that had already been consumed into gray ash. She caught sight of his stark white robes as he carried his own wind current with the swift pace he'd set and turned to face him with a calm face that eerily reminded him of his own in the past.
"You'll be happy to know I rid myself of my bad sketches and will find something new to sketch on" she informed quietly as she tucked her book behind her back to exit the inn for a breath of fresh air. After throwing away months of work, she deserved a few minutes to ponder where she'd done wrong since her humorous caricatures looked worse than her portraits and hoped she wasn't a travesty with her little piece of charcoal.
Altaïr could only grasp into the glowing fire to fetch the last small shred of paper that held part of his hood from the robe design page. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him and his fingers weren't fast enough to douse the burning embers that finished turning the rest of the shredded paper into crinkled soot. Ashes covered his fingers as the leftover heat from the fire stung his fingertips but he was certain it had to hurt the artist worse at having to cast the work aside in such a fashion. Part of him was surprised she'd simply burned them without hesitation but he'd constantly lectured her that adaptation and sacrifice was necessary to chisel the best out of each individual. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she listened to him with an open mind to incorporate his teachings as she saw him as a mentor to her life in his world.
In its own ironic way, he was an artist himself but had skewered his creation horribly with negative feedback.
Vivian had walked down the path of the inn to the lake's shore, sitting down on the cushiony grass to chuck small pebbles into the water. Most sunk horribly on the first throw but a few managed to skip over the water, giving her hope that her aim would better. She'd sorted through the pages of remaining non-Altaïr sketches since traveling and could see that her outlining needed work since there were instances where she drew too many light lines to define a form's shape. Altaïr's words had forced her to meticulously pick through each page to find where she'd gone wrong but all she could do was practice until her work improved.
It had hurt to throw away her drawings after working faithfully on each for weeks from memory alone. Who else could outline the impassive assassin and live to tell the tale? If he hadn't liked them and gave her concrete reasons to be better, why would she want to be reminded of failed attempts? She would rather start from scratch than see his face in her book and be reminded of . . . ugh, she was connecting emotionally with him. Why did that man's face bring a surge of affectionate warmth every time she thought of him? It became harder every day to think of him with beaver teeth and a classic villain's mustache to lower that rising attraction.
I can't, I promised I wouldn't fall into that Sue trap but the reality is-, she thought worriedly to her new conundrum as the days had begun to shine a new light on Altaïr. His natural grumpiness and scowling face no longer matched that of a regular companion as their growing socialization only served to bridge them closer as friends. Her poor heart had unfortunately been caught in that whirlpool to be hurled into the affectionate territory she'd been dreading for quite a while. What kind of faithful sidekick just-
"You care about him, don't you?" Malik's voice interrupted her frantic thoughts as she failed to notice his approach and cursed becoming blind to her surroundings. What had Altaïr strictly taught her from day one? Always keep vigilant! Her confidence for the day plummeted to the deepest sea level at being caught unaware as well. His question knocked her aback since she'd been trying her best to be amicable to the master assassin for the last three weeks without letting her true emotions slip. The dai sat down next to her on the grass as he caught a flicker of a somber glint in her eyes and spoke gently, "It's not safe out here with the type of people bustling through the land. If you wanted to be outright with your feelings, I think cleaning his weapons or telling him directly would've done it."
"How-" she began to ask on his acute perceptiveness as he managed to mentally dissect most people in minutes. Altaïr would verbally or physically assault you to find everything that he needed while Malik merely needed to observe and speak to a person to gain a glimpse into the inner workings of their mind. If he knew, she could only wonder if Altaïr himself had any inkling of what she actually felt for him. There was no room for feelings like hers on their mission, not to mention the time frame itself, and shook her head vehemently to sputter anxiously, "N-No, I don't want him to know anything at all. Never! This is just ridiculous feminine admiration that will pass-"
"No, I saw that many months ago when we left Giza but lately, I've sensed the shift" he explained matter-of-factly since he'd been observing her recent behavior and she groaned at being so transparent to the dai. This was one of those times when she wished to have assassin skills of stealth. She could deal with her friend knowing the truth but if Altaïr figured it out . . . she'd better find a bomb shelter before the super volcano blew his top. Malik, being the kind brother figure that he was, merely advised her to calm the worries plaguing her heart from the previous altercation, "You would've cast aside a remark like today's by ignoring him for a few days rather than chasing him with the same insults like you used to. Instead, you took those words to heart by removing what wasn't to his liking as you try to gain approval and connect to his way of thought."
His next words brought the point home that she was her own person and not a yipping loyal dog as he reminded gently, "You're not Altaïr or a student of his- you're Vivian. A smart woman that would've realized her drawings kicked his into whatever depth this lake is and that your main concern is you- not his opinion, which is questionable at best today."
"I'm almost afraid to ask if he knows because he can't" she whispered worriedly as his words cheered her up but wringed her fingers together at having her little secret discovered. She was never very good at lying about herself despite managing to do just fine with her false personas and poked the soft dirt under her fingertips. The small blades of grass tickled her skin and the sensation was quick to trigger memories of Altaïr's own fingers trailing over her palm. Each rough callous had sent her heart down her stomach with cartwheels of glee as he had accepted that personal space breach with no complaint. Darn it, why couldn't he have made her scram with his glower power instead? Grouchy Altaïr would've plummeted her feelings to the ground but the friendlier Altaïr of late did nothing except to increase them.
Regardless of her growing affection, she pushed herself to maintain a respectful platonic image and couldn't bear Altaïr knowing that secret. She could only trust in Malik to keep it hidden further and called on all of the good brownie points she'd earned since arriving to plead earnestly, "I don't want him to know how this affected me today and I need you to keep all of this to yourself. It is dangerous if he ever suspects anything is amiss because I'm pushing against time itself to keep his path straight without curves. I will always be his friend and my loyalty will be known for that only, nothing else. I just . . . I guess I wanted a little validation in my skills to show I'm not entirely useless . . . there are days that I feel I am."
She brushed away stray tears from her eyes since being the only one without fighting skills had been bearable at first but it had slowly picked away at her confidence. She was a normal human being that carried nothing special within her and being a female of this time barred her from most liberties offered to men. Altaïr had taught her with great patience (and that was saying something) to increase her mediocre skills and she did treasure him for it, especially when he no longer stomped off to yell about 'crazy realm traveling badgers'. The back-and-forth motion of the blue water lapping at the shore reminded her of steering clear from the assassin whose life she could inadvertently alter and murmured with disappointment, "And I'm angry at myself for thinking of him in that way when I know it's the most stupid thing to do. It's bad enough I'm here disrupting the normal flow of his life but now I have to shield myself even more emotionally. How am I supposed to resolve this internal conflict? How can I keep him from ever finding out as we keep traveling? Oh, how I want to kick myself."
Malik had never comforted women since another fellow woman was best for matters of the heart so he did what an uncertain dai would do. He patted her awkwardly on the back like he would've done with Kadar when his little brother sought advice and the kind gesture brought a weak laugh from between her crying. He'd never witnessed her shed a tear since meeting as she covered her distress with laughter as a shield but a heartwarming voice followed her sniffling, "And here I am putting you in the most awkward spot possible. I don't even like crying- ugh, I look like a shriveled fruit with liquid gushing out everywhere. This is why I avoid emotional conflict or situations- it makes you feel incredibly lousy."
"You make a good man, Vivian" he encouraged with a kind smile to allow her the comfort of crying because it definitely wasn't pretty but helped soothe a heart. Still, he was her friend and would be there when she needed him because she was the one that offered support when he or Altaïr weren't at their best. She didn't ask for much as she traveled alongside them but he would shelter her like any watchful brother and tried to hearten her spirit, "You don't have to rank up to our level because you've grown in your own way and still are. It's perfectly normal to feel conflicted about love since we're all human and prone to stupid mistakes. We learn from them and grow- keep to your art though, he wouldn't find it if it bit him on the foot."
"He is bad, isn't he?" she chuckled softly with a nasally tone as she pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose into it. The sight wasn't a pretty one with her red nose that resembled Rudolph's but felt better after releasing that bomb of emotions. It had been incredibly hard to deny her fond affection as the days slowly rolled by but she considered herself blessed for having a great friend in Malik. She might not have the love of her sisters anymore in 1193 but she had the next best thing in an adoptive brother and admitted earnestly, "Thank you for listening to me, even when you didn't have to. It's just that this whole search has put Altaïr on such an alert mode that it seems he's not the man I knew in the past month."
She shouldn't be moping about the recent past since the assassin had a life outside of exploring the wilderness with her. Still, she'd enjoyed each moment alongside him as it offered glimpses into the man he was rather than the assassin and felt privileged to catch each. Who could say they'd watched him run off from mere pigeons that had landed too closely for comfort? Or watched him curse the heavens when he stepped into a puddle of mud right outside of his tent? Her shoulders slumped as those memories seemed long ago when she stood next to the relentless man now on a hunt for the POE and sighed softly, "He laughed with me when I made jokes he liked and he doesn't anymore- if anything, we're fighting like cats and dogs. Neither of us likes that and it's enough to earn you the Nobel peace prize as you bear through it all."
"I'm going to assume it's an honorable gift" the dai commented warmly since he deserved a jewel encrusted gold medal for all of the parenting and common sense he knocked into the two. They were barely halfway into their journey and Malik had learned enough to write a book on parenting to hand out to new assassin parents when he returned to Masyaf. He could only hope this would be the only adventure in which he'd be lecturing Altaïr because he didn't have it in him to continue it into another generation. Vivian wiped away the last lingering tear from the inner duct of her left eye as she chuckled to his lighthearted mood and he gave one last piece of advice, "Give him time and focus on your own goals."
"It's a bit hard when my way home is tied to his journey" she admitted sullenly to the hand she'd been dealt in life but smiled weakly for the support. When life gave you lemons, make lemonade, right? Hopefully, she wouldn't keep making lemonade for too long or she'd have a brand called 'Vivian's Own' by the end of her travels. She smiled with gratitude for her friend's caring nature and returned the same by stating softly, "We really are lucky to have you and he'll be safe in this world with you keeping him on the right path."
. . . when I'm gone, she thought somberly to the part she was beginning to dread.
Malik cursed having to play father bear to the two, especially when it meant being locked him outside the room for a few hours. He didn't like the land but it was safer inside the inn than outside so he would bear it. Also, when Hurricane Vivian and Altaïr met, they had a tendency to merge into a dangerous super storm or die like a tornado out of fuel. He'd endured both outside of Giza when Altaïr had emotionally damaged Vivian enough to bring out her true ferocity but they had come out better people from it. With Altaïr being borderline obsessive to find the piece of Eden, he could quickly forget his sympathy and return to the same behavior from a year before- even worse, three years ago.
For now, all he could do was bunker down and wait for the storm to end.
Upstairs, Vivian had switched her bedding to Malik's side to leave Altaïr at the end rather than the protective middle. Normally, he wouldn't care since he could protect anybody at any angle but the fact that she was physically moving away from him struck a chord. He had lingered downstairs as he found ways to form a decent apology that wouldn't leave them starting their friendship all over again while she'd returned to their room. His plan for giving that heartfelt apology didn't start off well when he saw her fixing her blankets in her new spot because he wanted her by his side. What could Malik offer that he couldn't? She'd always slept by his side, even when she fixed her tent in camp, so they could speak together before blowing out the candles.
Instead of reciting a well-versed apology in a smooth voice, it was shot down the outhouse's pooping hole to make way for a raw realistic admission.
"Vivian, I am most apologetic to know you did that to your drawings" he confessed wholeheartedly as he shot to her side as she smoothed down blankets and wished he really could kick his own ass right about now. Why was it so hard to ignore the instinctive voice that told him to protect himself rather endure hurt? He hadn't wanted to deflect that damage and deal the barrage onto Vivian, who never intended any harm towards him. He waved his hands in an attempt to make that whole incident disappear so she wouldn't leave him and stated hastily, "Don't listen to anything I say from now on, about art anyway. You draw beautifully-"
"Then why say those things?" she questioned curtly since she was trying to figure out why he said them in the first place. Malik had simply stated the man had put his foot in his mouth but never delved deeper as to why he did that. Her fingers wrung the sheet she was trying to smooth out because she hadn't been fond of burning her sketches- especially for no good reason!
"I'm weak and petty?" he offered casually to slide his way out of the argument but it only served to rile her fury. Her narrowed eyes told him he was walking through a rocky road filled with lava that threatened to engulf him if he didn't tread carefully. She had a right to be mad, especially if Malik had told her the truth (which he was 99.9% sure of), and raised a hand in peace to calmly reason with her, "Vivian, I'm the type of man that will never live a common life and emotions stirred out of generous gifts have me behaving erratically. It's something I've never faced before. I'm never going to laugh with joy or leap to hug someone like some men might do and what I did was something I've been accustomed to doing since childhood. Attachments have always been seen as setbacks but you're not, believe me when I say so, yet my mouth tends to act faster than my brain."
"That one, I do believe" she muttered dryly since he did say some ridiculous things that made her blink in confusion sometimes. Wasn't she supposed to be the wacky erratic one? Taking his earnest words to mind, however, did remind her that he wasn't the average man and wouldn't react the same on the most simplest of situations. He would never be entirely open with her, especially since they'd only known each other for a little over a year, and maybe certain scenarios did unnerve him. That still didn't mean he couldn't learn and she offered alternative routes he could've taken as she pointed out wryly, "A simple 'you did well' or your classic 'huh' would've sufficed. What am I supposed to do now that I threw my drawings away for absolutely nothing? I have half a mind to kick you in the crotch and kick in your kidneys when you're down."
"Again, the mouth and mind run on two different roads with me" he pointed out his faults because he did not want to be kicked in that specific area anytime soon. Vivian frowned to his reasoning since it was still enough to earn an ass kicking of epic proportion- even though in reality, she'd be a tiny fly against a brick wall. There was no point in arguing since he clearly acknowledged he was in the wrong but needed to atone for his mistake before he caused an unexpected wedge between them. He could already see it as she tried to leave his sleeping area to settle elsewhere but he was having none of that because her place was beside him. Altaïr didn't exactly know how that became a regular occurrence but he knew that the obstinate little badger wasn't leaving him alone anytime soon. The loneliness could be suffocating now that he grew to enjoy his interactions with her and offered a chance to wipe the slate clean, "You may draw me as much as you wish and once we're out of Lake Victoria, I will willingly pose for you if I need to. Don't listen to my jabbering about art, I'm cranky whenever I don't find a lead."
"Even if I demand you naked in a creek?" she smirked playfully to the idea of toying with hilarious poses to exact a little revenge. What AC fan would deny that opportunity? Testing his limitations was always amusing to witness, especially when he contorted his facial muscles into anything but his permanent frown. Altaïr set his lips in a thin line to the preposterous, not to mention scandalous, image of doing so for her ego's benefit and narrowed his eyes.
"Vivian, I am apologetic but not insane" he declined firmly since he'd probably give her ammunition to spread in her time about him. Hadn't she learned that everything from her time embarrassed him? Add the fact that he was sexual eye candy for others and that made it ten times worse if he allowed her to do such a thing. That wasn't to say he'd allow it in the first place because he was incredibly private with his life, much more with his body. He crossed his arms as he sniffed the air with disdain to her ridiculous request and stated snippily with a raised chin, "The last thing I need is your picture being passed around by my crazy admirers' centuries after I'm gone."
"Oh, you'd be surprised what they draw on you or should I say, the lack of" she implied impishly to the images she'd seen floating around the internet and his face fell with horrified dismay. There were drawings of him in that, ahem, manner? Did people hold no shame for his privacy? How did they even dare to guess what he looked like under his robes? If they'd gotten one single thing wrong, he would find a way to make them all pay through Vivian's crafty mind when she returned home. Nobody insulted Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and lived to tell the tale- no matter the dimension.
When her cheeks turned pink from the images that had floored her (in some instances, scared her) in deviantart and tumblr, he knew it had to be mature content. Somehow, the little badger appeared capable of viewing such adulterated things and he was almost inclined to ask whether it had been tasteful. He didn't know whether having her picture him naked was a harmless thing because she knew him at the least but the idea sparked that familiar tingle in his chest. He forced himself to ignore that pesky sensation for the sake of his sanity (and her friendship) and snapped hastily to end that goofy little grin on her face, "Stop that and get my naked image out of your head."
"It's my brain and it holds a free country called Imagination Land" she disagreed swiftly and kept the cheeky smile plastered on since he would be gone for centuries in her own time. It wasn't something she liked to think about after bonding with him and Malik for a year but leaving them would be painful after the adventures they shared. She would miss the moments when they quarreled the most since he challenged her in every way possible and she thrived on it- even loved it! His offer had satiated the pain of burning her sketches somewhat and the turn of their conversation was flustering him slowly, which she particularly enjoyed.
"This is not how I expected this conversation to go, you lecherous creature" he stated flatly with a frown to her wordplay but hoped they'd reach an understanding. He didn't want to argue nor hurt her further since he cherished her companionship . . . if only he could ever admit it.
"You should stop expecting with me, I'm pretty random" she replied haughtily with a wag of her eyebrows and leaned on the balls of her feet to emphasize her quirkiness. He didn't doubt that for one second but it was an inner bravery that allowed her to pursue him into danger and he admired that trait. If she were random without bravery, she'd be cowering at every turn and whining about never being protected. Instead, she treaded into danger with her growing set of skills and he would be there to see her wield a weapon as she filled those shoes of valor that she'd sought from the very beginning. She pointed an index finger towards his face with glee shining in her green eyes and declared triumphantly, "You owe me for those long hours of drawing and you shall be my personal art puppet when we leave here."
"I don't remember saying puppet-" he disagreed quickly since being unwillingly controlled was not the best feeling in the world after his experience fighting Al Mualim. Vivian, however, wasn't hearing it and waved her hands because she was having her way today- not the other way around.
"You will do my bidding and will be my pillow when I say so, starting tonight" she smiled confidently since she finally attained a small grain of power and would seize every advantage with it. Who else could ever hope to have the same with the assassin? She was a simple girl from Berkeley cast back in time, or even an alternate parallel reality (which grew more likely as she traveled), and her joy came from merely being in his presence. Whether he was grumpy or relaxed, Vivian loved each moment they shared and hoped to add more to her growing bundle of memories to take home with her.
He gave her a deadpan stare since he didn't like being a mattress for anyone and snapped with offense, "You're abusing your power by trying to have your way with me."
She burst into amused laughter to his glum comment, not to mention the words, and the fact he'd interpreted her words for something sexual. Did he really think she'd sneak her hands inside his clothes or force him into doing something uncomfortable? She had plenty of dignity and self-respect to never do such a thing to her friend but found humor in the fact he attempted dry wit. His face resembled a grumpy child that had been told they were going to the dentist and she chided gently, "You're so melodramatic and I've told you many times that you're like a porcupine, which is why only Maria wants you."
He was offended by that since her constant prattle about him having fans equaled romantic admiration and more. Why was she not flowing into that boat? . . . Not that he cared if she did. His confidence as a man was easily rattled by Vivian nowadays and in order to maintain that control, demanded indignantly, "How dare you belittle my attractiveness?"
"So now you want me in your pants? Is that what you're saying?" she drawled with amusement to his flustered expression since he was jumping all over the place with his comments. Oh, how she thrived going toe-to-toe with him on this verbal dance. She placed her hands on her hips to display her control over the conversation and smiled impishly to preen slyly, "You're a very contradicting man, you know?"
"You . . . I . . . hush" he ordered swiftly as he lost control of the conversation entirely and decided to shut up before he dug himself into a bigger ditch. The victory flag had been handed to the witty badger and he would not contend it to prevent another firestorm. He was satisfied that he'd brought a sincere smile of amusement from the entire discussion since having her scream at him would've been worse. After facing that infuriated side of her outside Giza, he never wanted to meet that Vivian again and sighed to concede, "We're ending this with my honest apology and your acceptance like two ordinary people."
"We're not exactly ordinary" she stated quietly but at seeing his desperation to avoid further embarrassment, she relented. The man appeared to have gone through enough mental threshing at her fingertips and deserved a break for today at least. Tomorrow was another day and with him under her thumb for a little while, nothing was unattainable. She lowered her arms to her sides to show that the air had been cleared between them and offered a small smile, "But all right."
He was gloriously relieved at that because he wanted to avoid any more fighting and she added in matter-of-factly, "I will have your cheese tomorrow."
"Is that a euphemism?" he asked uncertainly since any word nowadays could be interpreted for something else. After experiencing the uncomfortable warmth in his chest around Vivian, he was not going to risk making a mistake that could surprise or irk her.
She batted his forearm for the cheap shot and replied quickly with the truth, "No! I want your cheese from our meals- it's quite good."
"But I like cheese" he muttered despondently to his lost cheese but if it kept her happy for a day, fine. It wasn't every day that he handed over his food to anybody but Vivian's never-ending appetite would at least cherish every last morsel. After all, he'd witnessed her eat wheels of cheese from bandits they'd chased out into the Egyptian desert. His days in Lake Victoria had brought chagrin to his determined personality as an assassin but as a man, he didn't want any of that projected onto Vivian. He feigned a look of disapproval for having to relinquish his food to maintain his grumpy aura but allowed with a low murmur, "Only for you."
She smiled to having her olive branch accepted but peered at him to admit softly with seriousness, "I don't like it when we fight. There's already enough violence in this world without us adding more to it."
"Neither do I" he replied earnestly with a small sigh and gripped her shoulders to offer a sympathetic squeeze. He hoped their time at Lake Victoria wouldn't serve to cause a dent in their friendship but it seemed his search and internal conflicts were waiting to resurface for a backlash. Vivian smiled softly to his agreement since fighting had been a serious problem of the past for them that neither wanted to return to. His thumbs could feel the swell of her clavicle bones as he encased her shoulders and attempted to sway her back to her old sleeping spot, "Will you . . .?"
He didn't how to word it exactly without appearing dependent on her or implying anything sexual from the request. It wasn't something he normally asked of women! She decided to let him struggle on requesting her presence next to him since she wouldn't be the one following him this time. Her eyes didn't betray a thing as she played the innocent card and Altaïr sucked his pride to benefit his own heart, finishing with a modest tone, "Will you- don't laugh when I ask- sleep beside me again? I like your company, especially because you don't hit me like Malik."
"He doesn't hit me" she pointed out slyly since he only whacked Altaïr when he was out of line or insane in his ramblings. He narrowed his eyes because she knew damn well the dai wouldn't lay a finger on her due to his honorable code but he was free game. She looked to her newly fixed bed on the floor and the spot felt strange to her after weeks of sleeping beside the impertinent assassin. Most normal people would've taken the spot next to the dai for their sanity but Altaïr kept luring her like a little moth and answered evenly, "I will stay but only if you give me the same respect I grant you."
"I'd never give you any less" he assured kindly since they were on equal ground now that they were a team and would only lecture her skills as a mentor. As a woman, she appreciated it even more since it was hard enough to bear being belittled everywhere she went. She'd repeatedly sought to gain an ounce from respect from the awesome assassin and now that she had it . . . oh, she could just burst!
Unfortunately, those words would be his worst lie by the end of the week and he'd regret the entire incident that shattered it.
While Altaïr and Vivian scribbled in their journals for the night, Malik had told the two he'd be taking a small stroll around the inn. For the first time, he'd lied to his friends since interfering in the affairs of others wasn't an assassin's place but Malik was beckoned to this. He did not condone the ownership of human beings for work labor or pleasure and ever since arriving in Lake Victoria, it had created a knot of distaste in the pit of his stomach.
He didn't want to risk his friends' involvement if his idea went awry since the main mission came first as Altaïr put it. If he happened to be caught, he would need to find a way to free himself but his main concern was freeing the poor people that were being sold off like cattle. Sneaking into the western camp of slaver owners hadn't been particularly hard with his mastered skills but maneuvering through the area brought a hindrance to his speed. He needed to find where the slaves were being held because he was certain they weren't in the large comfortable makeshift tents littering the area or the ships docked on the western platforms over the lake. Campfires glowed with their embers throughout each encampment and it allowed Malik a better view of the area as he used tents and parked wagons as camouflage.
When he finally found the first location where the slaves were kept, Malik fought the urge to stab the nearest tent in fury for the shoddy conditions. He'd seen numerous people either in shackles or in cages during the day as they were held for auction for prospective buyers and it didn't change when night arrived. The glow of the fires were enough to give him a glimpse as they huddled together for warmth in the back of the rusty cages and he couldn't imagine a worse treatment in the world for his fellow man. How could people stomach such horrible treatment of sentient beings- their own species? It was behavior like this that allowed the Templars to build upon their foundations of bringing their entire people to one mindset to impose peace.
While their owners slept in warm tents, their merchandise was left to the elements but Malik wouldn't allow that. He might have one arm but he'd make the best of that limb to open their door to usher them to freedom. He tried to find the opening for the metal door with the aid of the nearby firelight as his fingers trailed over the cold iron bars until they struck something.
A lock.
He knew this wouldn't be his easiest vigilante mission and fished into the left pocket of his robes to find his lock picking tools. When he had use of both his arms, he'd been quite the lock picker and was chosen often for missions that required a stealthy hand. Not even Altaïr himself could beat the dai when it came to unlocking complex locks. He might only have one hand but his fingers were dexterous enough to fiddle with lock's key hole as he pressed the heavy lock against the bar for easier maneuvering.
Fiddling with the lock masked some of the noise around him as he tried to keep vigilant of his surroundings. The half-moon above him shed light over the dark land as the fires crackled softly and Malik tried his earnest to pop open the lock while everyone slept on. Even the slaves barely stirred from their sleep but Malik didn't doubt they were malnourished and exhausted from being corralled around platforms to be sold. His resolve to see them free fueled his fingers to prod the sharp metal pin tool into place since he couldn't use his other hand with another tool to make it faster. How he longed for the days when he could unlock a door within thirty seconds.
It was hard to see in the darkness and used his years of training to maneuver his tool within the lock, focusing his attention solely on the lock. Should he have brought one of the others to keep watch? Probably . . . but he couldn't risk their lives in this because he knew Vivian would've hopped onboard instantly. He smiled with success when he was rewarded with a light 'click' and as he moved to remove it from the iron cage, heard the footsteps that had been obscured during the lock piking.
"What do we have here? A slave thief?"
Damn.
It would be a long cold night for Malik since killing the men would wake the entire camp and he couldn't fend them all off by himself. If he tried and escaped, they would scour the entire lake looking for him and it could trail back to his friends- which he couldn't allow. This was one battle he was forced to concede with regret and by morning, his companions would be on a desperate search to find him.
A/N: And we begin to see the light hints of obsessiveness with the pieces of Eden that stuck to Altaïr as seen in Revelations with the Apple, not to mention the short temper that needs to be leashed. Of course, poor Vivian tries her best to rein him in and it will backfire horribly in either the next chapter or the one after next (depends where I cut it off). As for Malik, lostwithoutdoubt's idea was perfect to use to bring Altaïr and Vivian closer as a unit so we'll see their rescue of their dear friend. Prepare to see Vivian as the negotiator while Malik hopes he won't be shipped off past the Indian ocean.
Hanane EL Mokkadem: Thanks, they'll be getting together much later in Mozambique but that's not to say the two won't be showing the affection that's growing between them. ;)
BroSkylar: I did take longer with the last chapter post due to work (can't believe I worked a week straight) but my schedule is clearer now. Thank you for being obsessed with the story, I try to make it as long as I can with each chapter.
WhatTheCensoredXD: Vivian is a hilarious little badger and as I began work on the sequel, I love the new humor I can make of her new life as she changes roles from Altaïr's friend to something permanent.
Lostwithoutdoubt: You totally gave the idea for the end of this chapter! It's a perfect event to show how Altaïr and Vivian can work as an efficient team since each member of the team has to be as strong as the other to maintain balance. The internal struggles of their feelings will definitely be a problem since Vivian fears altering his future since her presence isn't exactly normal and the fact that she will be returning home by the end of the story. However, as we all know, Altaïr isn't a quitter.
Anonomon: Thank you for loving the chapter!
xVentressx: Something is definitely stirring between them. Lol
yarotaro: Thank you so much, I was re-reading the story this week and I've seen subtle changes from spelling in earlier chapters and longer sentence structure. Despite it all, I couldn't stop laughing at some of the jokes I'd forgotten throughout the entire 30+ chapter ride.
KrnYong: Altaïr has been a character that pushes himself to the max and I liked seeing him reflect on that when he was 90 because the world will always need help and he can't do it all alone. He will definitely become ill in the story around Mali, I believe, so we'll see Vivian and Malik bearing with him. I think we'd all like to implode into a miniature black hole if we were placed in Vivian's position and in earlier chapters, she didn't hesitate to voice her embarrassment or run off (and she hadn't even touched him yet- lol). As she's grown to adapt his similar ability to mask his emotions and their growing comfort level, it definitely has allowed her to think before she acts. It will be coming in handy when Altaïr makes the first move to shift their relationship to the next stage.
Tachibana Natsu: I'm glad you love the updates!
Devicorn: Thanks so much for loving the story and thinking it a diamond between the coals. I'm glad you like the characterizations for the canon and OC characters since I definitely try my best to keep them in line. Altaïr is quite the grumpy Gus and I've definitely read stories where an OC manages to change him within the week, which I don't see as possible unless they're trapped together for every minute of every hour, and it's usually for the worst. For a man like Altaïr, a careful hand is needed and I love using Vivian's quirkiness and Malik's levelheadedness to steer him on that road to wisdom. I will definitely be using your 'Under the Sea' idea (possibly in the next chapter if the length isn't too long) and made up the song yesterday. Lol. I'm glad you like the Altaïr/Vivian romance since I didn't expect readers to like it since he is canon with Maria but hey, I'm working in an AU parallel universe. Don't worry, they will still be quite adorable throughout the story since they won't be overly sappy to make readers cringe.
Next Time: To Save a Dai and Master in One Week
The first rays of sunlight shed the navy blanket with diamond stars away from the land to shroud the horizon in its lilac-grey of early sunrise. Vivian sat up in her bed as the blankets lay crumpled around her waist and she wiped her dry eyes from the lack of sleep the night before. She had been waiting for Malik to return when he failed to do so after two hours on his walk around the inn and sensed something was wrong. Malik Al-Sayf was a man that was perfectly punctual with everything he did and organized to a point that drove Altaïr mad since he was more of a messy Bessie. Altaïr had gone to bed after the first hour rolled by and she allowed it since he had barely slept at all recently but promised to wake him if anything changed.
When the second hour passed by, she woke the assassin to voice her concerns since Malik always returned on time and wondered what could've happened. Altaïr wasted no time in changing into his robes but Vivian had to call him back in his half-sleepy state so he could switch his slippers for his boots (no assassin could live that embarrassment down). He had searched the area for an hour with his eagle vision and had called for Malik in case his friend had fallen somewhere but he found nothing. His friend was a good assassin in leaving no tracks to be followed and Altaïr worried whether his friend had fallen to harm or that he'd gone and done something without alerting them.
It didn't help any that Vivian was worried out of her mind by the time he returned and told her they would have to wait until sunrise to begin a search. Malik had left no tracks to be followed and Altaïr didn't know where to begin to look for him. Clues would be easier to find in the daylight and he could investigate to see whether residents had noticed anything amiss. He had urged Vivian to sleep while he took a shift to keep watch but she refused, prompting him to regain the lost hours of sleep from the past days. Vivian was a hard woman to budge when she was determined and he abided to give his body rest while she'd settled down beside him to sit.
With the sky slowly shifting color, Vivian gently roused her friend from slumber by shaking his shoulder. Altaïr had been sleep deprived to the point that he'd snored the entire night away and she moved him by the shoulder as he lay sprawled on his stomach to rip him away from dreamland. If she carried his tracking and investigating skills, she would've headed out on her own but that would've only worried the man further. There was no point in having two lost companions and Vivian waited until he grunted in complaint to being woken since she wanted him to wake peacefully.
Her hand stroked the top of his brown hair and she murmured softly, "I know, I know, but it's the early dawn now."
Altaïr opened his eyes back to reality as his five hour sleep felt more like a nap and shifted to his side to wipe his eyes to sharpen his vision. The previous night flooded back into his mind and quickly blinked to see whether Malik had returned to their bedroom. If he had, maybe-
Vivian's face held under eye circles and her continuous yawning into her right hand told her that nothing had changed at all. Had she really let him sleep through the entire night without rest for herself? He sighed softly as she deprived herself of rest on his behalf, grasping her left hand as it rested beside his forearm. The room felt incredibly lonely without their group together as one and he squeezed her hand to ask with a low voice, "Vivian, why didn't you-"
"You needed to sleep. . .and I wanted to be here in case he returned" she murmured softly as her shoulders slumped to give her a meek appearance. The usual cheer was gone from her face as the worry and lack of sleep took its toll on her body. She wanted her friend back safe and sound, whispering sullenly, "We have to find him, Altaïr."
Her crestfallen face and tone only served to pull at his heartstrings since he wanted her face to have that usual dopey smile of hers. He sat up to remove the rest of the lingering sleep away from his mind and with Vivian being in close proximity, imitated an action he'd seen when wandering troubled towns.
He drew her to his shoulder with one arm to provide the same emotional support she'd offered him when he needed it. Her green eyes widened with shock since he'd never broken their personal boundaries to this point but she relaxed in his grip to show she trusted him as well. She could feel his faint heartbeat against the back of her hands as they were wedged between them and the curve of her nose fit perfectly against the crook of his bare neck. Body warmth was an immediate soothing effect to her distress and she melted against it as he remained quiet to dissipate her fears.
Altaïr wasn't exactly sure if it would work since he'd never done so with another person in his life. Normal human interactions that provided sympathy or support were often lost to him due to his upbringing and he found himself studying the behavior of mankind to guide him on how to bring those dynamics into his new life. He hoped the action had brought Vivian a sense of peace as he watched her curled up against him and a faint smile crossed his lips to their close proximity. Physical touch was indeed a sense of comfort, especially between trusted individuals, and he began to understand why people performed that action. He'd seen people hug too but it crossed all physical boundaries and Altaïr wasn't ready to do that with anyone just yet.
"Let's find Malik, shall we?" he asked softly after a few moments but Vivian didn't answer at all, causing him to look down. Her shallow breathing tickled his skin as she lay huddled against him but his small companion had fallen asleep against him. It appeared she had been more exhausted than she cared to admit and he murmured fondly, "You are a tenacious little badger."
Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter. What will happen to Malik? Will the trio be broken? Who will save the day?