Music Inspiration: Jesper Kyd- "Ezio's Family"
Heal My Heart
Altaïr didn't let the matter drop at all and since the first night they made camp in Kisumu, Kenya, he had created a side mission to revive Vivian's level of ease around him. He wasn't an idiot; he noticed how she avoided personal topics about herself now and stuck to their objective or the future itself. How did he know this wasn't all a figment of his imagination, you ask? When he saw Malik and Vivian discussing their favorite African animal- among other similar likes without him. It wasn't an obvious sign he was left out but when they switched the conversation back to their mission rather than ask what his was (how did that question not fit him after fighting so many?), he realized the woman was closer to Malik than to him. Wasn't she supposed to be helping him and not his friend? What happened to her constant wanderings at his side? Her endless rambles about their adventure? The extra dash of cooking herbs she put into his food every evening? Why had she begun to slowly leave him without a reason?
It unsettled him.
Unfortunately, his attempts at meaningful conversation were like oil in water with Vivian. She resisted the notion of delving deeper into who he was or vice versa since leaving Lake Victoria. Wasn't that her point of being there with them? To study him and pretty much advise him? Seeing her share all of that with Malik, who excluded mentioning Altaïr in conversation, irritated him because Malik was supposed to be his best friend. Throughout their travel, he prayed they wouldn't pop out to tell him that they were going to marry and explore on their own without him. He hated the petty emotions it stirred within him, they were like a disease with their manipulating puppeteer strings . . . but he didn't want her spreading her wings to fly off. She'd been by his side, helping him, so why should another get that honor?
During a stop in Tanzania, he'd tried to stir up random conversation as he sat down next to her in the dirt and asked, "So, what kind of weather do you prefer?"
The boggled expression on her face matched what his mind questioned for asking such a simplistic but ridiculous question. The weather? Was that the best he could do? Why didn't he just ask if she'd digested her food already? He cursed his lack of charisma but he didn't have much to work with. Her lips parted as she moved to speak but instead of answer, she informed worriedly, "You're sitting on an ant hill."
Altaïr nodded stiffly as he discovered why the earth felt shifty ever since he'd sat on it and replied with deathly calm, "Ah, I see. Excuse me while I find a bush and hope they're not fire ants."
They were.
Another day led Altaïr to follow Vivian as she picked twigs for their morning campfire and the encounter led to an aerial battle with a red colobus monkey group that had been eating fruit in the trees. Apparently, they weren't keen of his flashy white robes and he escaped with pink blotches of splattered fruit on his robes. He spent the entire morning washing his robes in the river and letting them dry under the sun while Malik fished with Vivian. Again, he was thwarted and called it a temporary setback.
Another instance brought him closer when they'd been speaking about the change in geography as they approached the Tanzanian coast of Dar es Salaam. The horizon with the sparkling blue ocean was a welcome change from the desert land and jungles they'd experienced venturing down the Nile. The rain had shifted to short periods during the day rather than downpours and although the humidity increased, it was bearable with the sea breeze. Vivian was chattiest with him when it concerned everyday things like the weather or geography and he'd been ready to reel her in like a helpless fish with a question about her own home. Luck, however, was against him again as they walked when Vivian's eyes widened and she said, "You stepped in dung."
He couldn't get the smell out for hours and cursed what vile creature dropped it there.
The next time he tried to become friendly, they'd been walking on foot to give their camel a rest and shared mild jokes with each other to pass the time. Her hand had then pushed him by the shoulder in a light jest since she could barely make a dent in the man and Altaïr had returned it with one of his own, his weakest one actually. She brought another round and eventually, his ego became competitive and he pushed her clear across the path and into a thorny bush. That was enough to tell him he'd made a grievous error and wouldn't win in drawing his answers. With that in mind, he'd hopped onto the camel for a hasty getaway while Vivian chucked rocks at his head. Well, he still counted it as something due to their joking.
He noticed her affinity for stargazing whenever they made camp and could usually find her at an empty spot at camp where she could sit by herself for an hour or so. Malik warned him to leave her alone during that time since she pondered away her stresses to cope with her continuing presence in their time. Altaïr, however, disregarded his words and simply plopped himself down next to her during one of those occasions. After trusting her, he'd expected she'd purge every thought while she was there in her most comfortable of places.
"You watch the stars often" he remarked casually to show he meant no harm as he sat down on the grass, stirring her out of her thoughts. She had invited him a few times but he'd declined in order to sharpen his weapons so seeing him was surprising. Over the weeks, she'd caught him trying to wedge back into her private life but she wouldn't dare delve into it. It was best to keep him at bay as a mere companion and curled her legs under her chin as he asked with curiosity, "Are you searching for that alien life in the heavens?"
"No, just. . ." she answered with a faint smile but faltered on delving further about her thoughts. He was focused on his goals so she would only concern herself with returning home because that was why she'd gone with him. It had been so easy to forget why she'd tagged along and felt ashamed for forgetting it. For a moment, he caught a glimmer of sadness but it was gone as quickly as it came when she answered simply, "Ruminating."
"Would you like to share?" he suggested helpfully to see if it would draw her out of that shell. For the first time, he attempted to smooth his features into a sympathetic face but found resistance in his facial muscles after years of scowling power. To Vivian, it was the oddest expression she'd seen on his part because Altaïr wasn't meant to be soft at all. It was like seeing a lion attempt to be vegetarian- it was impossible! She did, however, believe the tone of his voice when he stated earnestly, "I believe it helps to bond companions even further and the silent night always draws your deepest worries."
"You don't share your thoughts with me anymore, simply infer or relate strategy" she stated softly since he'd stopped being laidback and open since arriving back in Kenya, only his need for the item. There had been an invisible wall enacted when they'd arrived and it had shut her out as their inside jokes had shifted into finding the item only. It was a reason why they clashed so much as their connection became strained and she thought it would be best to keep it that way for her sake. They'd only spoken about their missions, travels, and current hobbies- never anything past that since leaving Lake Victoria. She stood up from the ground to abandon her meditations and reminded quietly as she left for her tent, "It's why we have private journals."
She was harder to crack than a rock.
He cast aside the subtle attempt at bonding and went for a promise he'd guaranteed at Lake Victoria. Vivian slowly kept edging herself away from him and he noticed that their old comfortable chats had become rare. She didn't even try to touch is arm anymore but he wouldn't say it aloud out of fear she'd think he held feelings for her- which he did not. It was just . . . well, wasn't he supposed to be the most astonishing man in her life? What happened to the fawning and nonsensical ramblings?
"You know, I did promise you could draw me and you've yet to do so" he brought forth in suggestion on a cool breezy morning while she mended a torn skirt. For the first time in his life, he tried to appear alluring as he puffed his chest and offered the ever rare charming smile that would swoon a million women into comas. He repeatedly told himself that it wasn't to attract her but to lure her back into his life again. That stubborn badger had holed herself up for too long in her burrow and the eagle was demanding she come out and play. Otherwise, who would? Malik would sooner smack him over the head for being childish. He squared his shoulders to show his perfect posture and managed a dazzling smile to state, "I'm currently free of any engagement."
Malik had no idea what was going on but believed his friend had become touched in the head when he smiled at the woman. When had he smiled freely at anyone? For that matter, when had he shown his teeth at people without a snarl attached to it? When had he allowed anyone to draw him? What in the world was occurring before him? For a moment, he believed he'd stepped into a paradox of time as he watched his two companions. However, Vivian shook her head to kill the fantasies of hundreds of AC fangirls and declined politely, "Not right now, I'm busy for today."
"The invitation is open for any day" he pushed with insistence as she failed to bite the bait and wanted to know what had shifted. Back at the inn, she'd been eager to draw him in ridiculous poses but she cast it aside now! Goodness, he'd touched her hand and she'd inadvertently touched him in a rather private area by accident. Didn't that mean anything? Where was the gleeful joy on her part to be beside him? She never resisted his offers for anything until leaving Lake Victoria and cursed the place to the heavens. Had he done something wrong and forgotten to apologize? No, he remembered all of the fights and they'd left at a mutual compromise. He wanted his friend back and for the first time, would jump through more hoops than he had with Malik.
"To be quite honest, I'm not sure when I'll be drawing again" she replied with a friendly smile but it was almost enough to make him rip his hood off. Where had his badger gone and who was this somber disinterested creature in her place? He'd given her authorization to draw him however she wished and she'd declined? Where had all the fanatical love gone? He was almost inclined to pout and cross his arms for being ignored.
"I really am sorry about what I said about your art-" he began if that was the problem altogether. That encounter had left him rattled due to the inexperience of processing his emotions and for projecting his insecurities towards her. If she held any ill will, he wanted to atone for it now but Vivian shook her head.
"I know, but I'm more focused on . . . well, going home" she answered earnestly since she belonged to a different time and had to wake from the dream she was living. This was not her life and after what he'd told her, she had no place in it. Quite frankly, the past weeks had been incredibly miserable for her as she'd begun to detach herself from the group. She had come to long for her family every day as she cut her time with Altaïr to nonexistence unless it involved the mission. She had forgotten where she was from and it was time to remember where her future lay because it certainly wasn't alongside the assassin. It would be easier to forget him if she kept replaying all of the hostile scenarios between them to identify him to those awful moments. Looking away from him, she focused on the area she was sewing with even more concentration and murmured softly, "I don't want any delays to Madagascar."
As for Altaïr, the fact that she would leave had begun to cause a hairline fracture in his emotional armor. Lake Victoria had greatly shifted the dynamics between them and she wasn't reaching out to him as she had months ago. It was a foolish inclination that she could ever want to stay a little longer beside them but it hurt to be kept outside of her thoughts again. He had taken their witty interactions and physical mishaps for granted since he expected her to always be there . . . but she couldn't. She wasn't there for him anymore and he couldn't bring himself to admit his own jumbled feelings. He could only relent his suggestions to prevent appearing desperate (he had plenty of friends, right?) and stated quietly, "I see."
No matter, he would achieve his goal by the end of it all.
They had been crossing a thin road alongside a mountain when he encountered just how drastic their relationship had become. Heights were never an issue for assassins but the camels were taking their sweet time in crossing and Vivian eyed the trail uncertainly. Every few minutes or so, she could hear debris rolling down the mountain and she wasn't comfortable with nothing to grip if the ground gave way.
Malik led their group since the camels heeded his orders well while Altaïr kept an eye on their rear in case anything happened. Vivian kept the center behind the camels to usher them forward to follow Malik. She'd been leading them on with waving hands when she happened to step on a rock that angled her foot, bringing an instant sting to her ankle. As she tried to compensate her aching tendon by moving it behind the rock, she failed to test the sturdiness of the earth before moving.
The edge of that area was already littered with cracks and Altaïr spotted the shifting earth but not before it gave way. The ground under her right foot disappeared instantly and Vivian couldn't regain her balance after shifting her entire weight onto that foot. With an alarmed shriek, she slid down the edge towards the abyss below before she could even react.
"Vivian!"
He didn't even think and instinctively reacted by reaching to grasp whatever he could to prevent her falling down below. By a stroke of luck, his perception and agility managed to snag her right sleeve as her hands struggled to find something to grab a hold off. With her weight being thrown backward rather than forward, it would've been an instant death without his intervention. Her hands managed to find a tight hold on the broken edge but the gritty dirt made it hard to stay atop. She called to him in a frightened voice as he used his free hand to grab the cowl of her robes and he ordered, "Hold onto the ledge while I grab you. Keep your eyes on me!"
Her body was shaking enough from fear because there was nothing but the assassin keeping her from an untimely death. He repeated his order to keep her calm under stress and heard Malik calling his name since her screams frightened him. Unfortunately, he was trapped in front of the camels and releasing them would also place their only mode of transportation in peril. Altaïr released her sleeve to slide his left arm under that one and gripped the back of her robes. Quickly, he ordered her to sling an arm behind his neck and used his other arm to slide it under her other arm. He kept a tight hold on her to ensure she wouldn't fall through and dug his feet into the dirt as he kneeled to tug her upwards. He wasn't going to lose her on an insignificant trail after enduring such a long journey and grunted, "Don't let go of me!"
"Trust me, that's not my intention!" she managed to utter as she held onto him like a lifejacket and tried to find a decent footing. Every time the tip of her shoes touched the mountain, the earth crumbled and she was left with walking over gritty dirt.
Altaïr's strength was a heavy advantage as he managed to pull her weight and drew her to him when her lower limbs peeked over the edge. She scrambled to him when she felt solid dirt under her knees and breathed heavily at the thought of falling over again. It was a daunting experience and the closest call to death that she'd had upon arrival. She whimpered with fear for a few seconds as adrenaline kept pumping through her body but he reassured softly with relief, "It's all right. You're safe now."
He held her close to soothe her nerves since such an event would leave one incredibly terrified afterwards. Frankly, it left him vulnerable as well as the thought of losing her brought out emotions of loss he'd never experienced with others. She'd become his partner in crime and had weaved herself slowly into his heart so no, he wouldn't be releasing her. If anything, he'd be inclined to fall down to his death with her in a last attempt to shield her from the fall. One hand weaved into her hair so he could envelop her tightly to show that rare display of care but she recoiled instantly.
As if he'd set her aflame, she backed away out of his grip since she'd simply been holding onto his arm. The fright and shock from the fall had dulled her and in that brief moment, she allowed herself to be held in the most familiar way all humans experienced during traumatic times. When he tried to delve further with caring moves she'd encountered before Lake Victoria, she severed the line connecting that old mindset to protect herself. As much as her legs ached where the rocks had undoubtedly scraped her skin, she wouldn't accept the help. She wasn't walking down this road again and scrambled to stand up on shaky feet to stutter, "I-I'm fine."
"Vivian-" he tried to dissuade since he could see her visibly shaking and only wanted to comfort her. Why was she rejecting him?
"Malik, let's keep going" she called over to get their line moving since being stuck with Altaïr would only lead to more questions. Also, the sooner they found stable flat land to walk upon, the faster she could tend to any open scrapes to avoid an infection. Malik couldn't see what was happening behind him due to the thin trail but assumed everything was fine now and continued. Vivian wanted to leave the thin trail around the mountain before acrophobia settled into her mind and never hike around an area like that again. Not wanting to appear ungrateful to her companion, she offered her thanks, "Thank you for helping me, Altaïr, but I'm fine now."
"But-" he was ready to state otherwise but she continued walking down the trail to follow Malik and their camels.
He didn't like this Vivian.
He managed to pin her after visiting a trading post with the caravans on the Saharan routes. Malik had gone off to gather firewood to give him a chance (it wasn't easy budging him) and Altaïr would pounce like a stealthy cheetah on the unsuspecting badger. He had tracked her movements through camp while he feigned reading his travel journal until it was time. Only when she was too busy to notice him or feigning ignorance, did he strike.
After knocking over a clean basket of laundry, of course.
"Oh! I just cleaned those" she sighed exasperatedly and leaned down to pick them up to prevent dirtying clothes again. Altaïr was finicky with his shade of white so if any of his clothes became dirty, she'd send him to the river to wash them himself. He helped her clean off the articles of clothing and she aired them to free any lingering dirt before folding them neatly. When he attempted to fold an item himself and turned it into a misshapen ball, he relinquished it to her care and she smiled, "Thanks."
"I was hoping we could talk" he proposed casually to keep her in the dark about his intention and she nodded quietly, folding one of her long skirts. He paused for a moment since he'd worked on his strategy to keep her in one spot but failed to conjure the topics he'd lead from. This is why he stuck with assassinating rather than socializing, it was easier to plan a kill than hosting a party. Because of that, he came off sounding like a concerned parent, "I wanted to talk about your behavior-"
"If I've done something to insult you, I didn't mean to" she interjected quickly with regret because she respected him and didn't want to appear uncivilized. Altaïr tended to be a little pickier with respect and etiquette than Malik which usually led the dai to rant that Altaïr didn't show the same when cornered about a mistake. Vivian, however, merely wanted to keep their association without any quarrels and apologized, "Despite the my time here, I still forget I'm within a society with different customs and-"
"No, you've done nothing of the sort- actually, you might have better manners than me" he stated frankly to halt her apologies and watched her shoulders drop in relief. She blinked with surprise because he rarely admitted his own shortcomings unless you pressed him. He cleared his throat as he approached the subject and spoke carefully, "You and Malik share a tight bond-"
"Oh dear, you don't think we're courting, do you? I assure you, he's only a friend" she sighed with embarrassment because divulging secrets in the present with the opposite gender was normal while in the twelfth century, you were preaching to your future spouse. Vivian did not find Malik attractive in that manner (although the man was physically more appealing) and there had been many times she kicked herself for not eyeing him instead. Nobody really knew what Malik's future held in store and she'd fallen for the most stubborn non-available man possible! Altaïr groaned miserably at using words with double meanings because he didn't care and she blinked with confusion, "What is it?"
"You two trust each other but lately, our own has deteriorated" he approached the subject gently since he no longer shared his knowledge nor she her humorous anecdotes. She and Malik would share a conversation that could include him but once Malik was out of the picture, she made idle conversation that lacked their previous exchange of laughs. Where had his feisty badger gone? He didn't know how much he missed their old banter until it was gone and despite his original nagging, he wanted it back immediately.
He had never been expressive with his feelings but it was the only way to convey his worry. It was time to find the truth to his questions and he admitted wholeheartedly, "I no longer feel that connection that we shared before leaving Lake Victoria. We talked for hours before that and upon arriving there, we cut everything down to mere minutes. I know my demeanor changed due to the severity of the mission and there were many fights between us . . . is that what made the wedge?"
Vivian wanted to hide away from the truth but his piercing stare told her she needed to answer him and spoke quietly, "I think we learned all we needed to from each other and hit a dead-end. When we're isolated from society, it can create a halo effect and we seek that human companionship but once we return . . . it ends and ours did-"
"I don't believe that, we were worse when we first started out and I feel that same coldness seeping back in" he interjected frankly because their camp was quieter than before and when he sought her, she was busy or elsewhere around the area. Before Lake Victoria, they had been friendly to the point that he'd carried her over a hill and that was saying something because he'd drop any other person. He wasn't going leave the matter alone because he wanted her back in his life and stated matter-of-factly, "You've become distant in my personal opinion and you came to me for anything- even when you found that weird stick."
She smiled faintly since it had been rather oddly shaped and could see that he wasn't going to be satisfied until he found a real answer. The man was a stickler for the truth but he was tightlipped himself. She licked her lips nervously as she decided how to approach this passively, "I became more open with you than I should've been, given my circumstance of arrival. I fell prematurely to a notion that we were equals of sorts in this adventure and that I'd found a friend in you."
She really thought she had made the assassin her pal but jumped ahead of herself with that one because the man was Altaïr. He didn't just get chummy chummy with just anyone and maybe her own perky personality played into that since she wasn't Malik or Maria. There was no way she could stack up to them in strength, stamina, or intelligence. How could she ever hope to when the only thing she'd ever killed was a fat bug? She cleared her tightening throat as his gaze made her feel the size of an ant and she stammered, "I . . . I was wrong to assume that and it's why I was so pushy back on the lake. You were right, it wasn't my place to intrude on your mission since it has nothing to do with me and I'll be keeping my thoughts to myself from now on. I just . . . I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable but it's better that I just keep my mouth shut before I make things worse. I don't want to make you resent me for being here so it's best I stay out of your way."
She picked up her basket to continue on her way but he grasped her wrist to prevent a hasty escape. He didn't like the way she furrowed her brow with worry rather than her trademark annoyance and took the basket to place it back down on the ground. She wrenched her hand free and he felt rejected since she'd reacted like he was poison. Was touching out of the question as well? For the first time, he found himself wanting to share in that socializing aspect.
"Why wouldn't you think we're friends?" he asked inquisitively since his behavior clearly showed they were but maybe he had perceived things differently. What had he done or said to make her behave like that? He trusted her well enough to rank alongside Malik and would never want her to feel worthless. He didn't understand why she believed there was no camaraderie between them and stated truthfully, "We been traveling for months to uncharted lands, that in itself brings a trust and comfort level that I wouldn't grant others. I've been sleeping in a tent next to you since meeting and I've never worried about you posing a danger or being an annoyance to me. What makes you think there is no friendship on my part?"
She hesitated for a moment since opening that can of worms wouldn't bode well and murmured quietly, "The way you spoke to me at Lake Victoria . . . it revealed something to me that I've been trying very hard to hide from myself since arriving here."
Altaïr accessed those old memories from the trip since they'd done quite a lot of yelling, breaking free of their old truce to bite into each other. Her concern had been for him but his was for the order, their personalities clashing as each sought to protect something different. Had he disrespected or painfully enlightened her in some way? If so, he never meant to hurt her. He'd told her not to listen to him when he became irritated! Vivian crossed her arms in her classic defense position as she bit her lips with her teeth from behind, thinning them for a moment before admitting weakly, "I allowed myself to fall into this false pretense that I'm one of you when in reality, I'm not. You were right, I'm not from your order and I don't want to delve into that lifestyle but . . . I liked the camaraderie of it. I didn't feel so alone out here in the wilderness and it gave me a temporary family of sorts to dull the pain. It made me forget that I'm not from this time, that I'm merely a tool to help you further your goal-"
"Vivian-"
"I overstepped my bounds in your life and I apologize for being out of place" she broke in tearfully because she'd tried to build an illusionary life where she could fit in amongst them but she wasn't one of them. It hurt more than his original antagonism at the start because at least then, he'd made it clear that there was a boundary and she was to remain outside like a flea ridden dog. She wiped her left eye before tears fell to leave her a blubbering mess and murmured, "You gave my life here a small meaning but I allowed myself to delve deeper than I should have. I've always been rather ahead of myself but it was never meant to intrude into your life and it won't be permanent. I am not one of you, I am not your friend, merely a comrade that guides you to the pieces of Eden and I will not say any more on your decisions. That is my sole purpose and I will not break free of that . . . I just hope to reach Madagascar and go home, where I do belong. In the end, I have to realize that there is nothing for me here-"
"You're not a tool, I was speaking from frustration over losing the piece" he objected to her misconception, regretting his choice of words at that moment. Is that why she'd been skirting around him since then, avoiding him as much as she could? He would never think of her as a tool and cherished her more as a smart-alecky friend. He'd never seen her shed actual tears since meeting (not even then either) and it unnerved him completely to watch her wipe away the crystalline tears. Where had the indomitable badger gone? It didn't fit her upbeat personality, even the sarcastic part, and he wanted his memory wiped clean of it. He didn't like to see her hurt in any way, especially if he was the cause.
He didn't know what to do because dealing with a crying woman was a rarity for him. The only time it had occurred was with a woman pleading that she was living on the streets and he'd thrown coins at her, along with a half-eaten piece of bread in his hand, before escaping to the rooftops. Crying unnerved him as it struck a part of him that Al Mualim had condemned because emotions had no place in their professions. He couldn't process them easily like Vivian and it was a main reason why many saw him as standoffish. Yet, watching the short historian cry her eyes out shamed him and he tried to comfort her as best he could, "Dry your tears, Vivian."
"I don't like them anymore than you do" she mumbled sadly to her outpour of emotion and didn't approve of it either. She was a private person with her inner emotions, especially when regarding Altaïr, and hated to be seen at such a low point. Losing her mother at a young period in her life had hardened her to bear the unexpected emotional thrashings but Altaïr brought a different type of heartache. It was times like this that she wished to have her mother so she could ask advice about life but again, she was alone. All she could do was handle everything in a graceful manner, even while wiping her eyes clear, and sighed with melancholy, "But you were speaking the truth, even if it was through anger. What could I possibly do in this world that would ever amount to something? I'm not meant for this time-"
"Then why would you be here if you weren't?" he questioned because her life certainly had meaning alongside him. There was a reason as to why he'd found her and didn't count it as mere coincidence anymore. It was why they were traveling together so she could gather those critical answers and he wouldn't forget the help she'd provided him. The words were out of his mouth faster than he could bite his tongue, "It wasn't a random act that brought you here and you mean more to me than I ever thought possible. You have a home here-"
"My home is with my family and I don't want your pity" she pointed out because a sudden change of heart for her benefit wouldn't help at all. The assassins were an organization she had no problem aiding but she wasn't eager on joining due to her moral standing (and fear) of taking a life with her own hands. She merely wanted a friendship with the man who protected her and breathed deeply to clear her stuffy nose to state frankly, "I'd rather face the harsh truth than cower behind rose colored glass because you've never once called me your friend throughout our travels. I know Malik is my friend but you . . . I'm tired trying to mold myself to get your respect. I'm just so tired of it all- the weather, the bites, the danger, even the endless walking."
"Vivian, if you haven't realized by now that we are friends, you should" he stated calmly but his hands were fidgeting at what to do with the weeping woman. He'd never faced such a situation before and cursed Al Mualim for reigning in their emotions to prevent attachments of any sort. Vivian had already become one but he didn't see her as a liability after the aid she lent him. She made him a better man when she objected to his logic of keeping to an overall goal without looking back instead of helping a few people along the way. As grand master, he wanted to be a wise and just man rather than his predecessor and sighed softly with regret, "Forget what I said. You might not be an assassin but you're definitely a part of us by association and I trust you as I do Malik. Your quirks might raise a question to your sanity but my life wouldn't be the same without you."
She nodded quietly to accept his words and found herself smiling faintly when he patted her shoulder awkwardly, "There, there. Halt your crying."
"You're awful at comforting crying women" she joked gently with a soft chuckle as she dried her wet cheeks and he agreed with a grumble. He'd never had the option of doing so and he moved his hand to pat the top of her head as he'd seen parents do to their children. Vivian was the only one that had compelled him to offer comfort and he would do his best to stop her tears from flowing.
"I can't be the best at everything" he muttered dryly and she pulled him into an embrace by the waist. He was thrown aback from the surprising gesture because he'd only seen it between families and found it odd. They had only attempted a loose one-armed hug in Lake Victoria after Malik's kidnapping but it had stirred the safest feeling in the world to him. Now, here she was embracing him without falter as her cheek pressed against his chest (my, she was small). His hands awkwardly patted the center of her back as he peered at the top of her head to drawl slowly, "This is new."
"Have you never had a hug?" she asked gently with a wistful smile to his isolated life. Their time together had brought her insight to the radically different life he'd grown into in comparison to hers. While she'd had two loving parents to guide her way, he'd been orphaned under Al Mualim's care with the sole purpose of molding a future assassin. While she'd played in a park with her sister as a child, he'd been learning the brotherhood's tenets and defense skills to protect himself. He hadn't bonded with his father playing with toy cars, played tag with other children, nor even had a regular stroll with a pretty young girl. Vivian, however, craved human companionship to avoid the loss of her very diverse life in 2009 and admitted longingly, "I miss holding my baby sister- she even had nicknames for hugs. She called them 'Penny's Power Hugs'."
Altaïr scratched the back of his neck because he certainly hadn't and answered reluctantly, "I've seen families do this . . . oh, and Maria did this right before-"
She released him instantly at knowing that tidbit because she certainly could've lived without it. Knowing his romantic history was not part of her AC fan loyalty and it was a good repellant at keeping her emotions in check. Her palms faced him as she raised her hands to chest level and she grimaced, "Please don't tell me about your sexual conquests, especially at this distance."
He grunted to her bold comment because she was the one that asked in the first place. For the first time, he wondered about her own history since she was a bold little woman. Had she courted men in her time? Were they like her? Or the opposite of him? Had she been physically intimate with any of them? The hood around his neck became warm to that thought and he pushed it away because there were most important things to focus on. Her emotional wellbeing came first and he caught a faint smile on her face. Was she amused by the fact he'd been open about that private area of his life? Either way, it was something that took away her tears and pointed to her mouth as he stated, "There! A smile is all you should wear, all women, actually. They should never weep for our mistakes and you will dry those eyes."
For a man living in the twelfth century, she appreciated the comment because he never minimized her as a woman. Well, the argument at Lake Victoria had been the only one but she saw that he regretted his actions. She smiled when he whispered one last apology and squeezed her shoulders to emphasize his regret. He looked so flustered she couldn't help but hug him one last time, wrapping her arms above the wide leather belt to squeeze him for all it was worth.
Her inner fangirl was sated and she thought about hugging the best assassin in her eyes, Hmm, definitely not a teddy bear quality. It's like holding a sack of dough, tough but malleable. There's no flavor in him but you bet he'll be saucy if you rile him.
"I didn't think you'd ever trust me as a friend, I didn't exactly make the best of impressions" she commented softly and pressed her cheek against the center of his chest. He agreed with that because he had perceived her as a stark raving lunatic while she believed she'd fallen into a coma. His first inkling had been to leave her in the streets but he would've regretted listening to his instincts now that he stood beside her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and run his fingers through her hair as she made him feel the most important in her life. Her soft-spoken words only weaved themselves further into his heart when she thanked him, "I'm glad you didn't leave me in a dungeon with the rats and a cup of water."
"Why does everyone assume our dungeons are dank and pest ridden?" he feigned disappointment with a frown that brought her laughter to seeing his pouting face. Her hug brought him no discomfort since her strength was far weaker than his own and adjusted to this new form of human contact. He'd honestly expected to do this on his child first but it was best to practice with her before he horrified his son with his awful interpersonal skills. Having his son run away with tears was not the best way to feel welcomed as a father. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, grazing the top of one since her petite form allowed him to place his chin on top of her head like two coyotes out in a pasture.
Vivian enjoyed the hug a little more than she should have but their archaic garb made it cozily comfy. She could barely feel the contours of his muscles and doubted her own layers provided anything to be felt as well. It was the perfect win-win without embarrassment! She had tied herself emotionally to both assassins as they became her adopted family and knew that when it was time to leave, it would be similar to tearing a fresh surgical wound open.
"Don't ever cry again" he stated softly and gently stroked the back of her head, causing her to smile fondly. If she'd been born a puppy in his time, she would've followed him faithfully to the ends of the earth. Her green eyes opened to meet his gaze and he admitted that they were quite the mesmerizing shade. His throat turned dry for a brief moment as he peered down at her and he licked his lips to manage, "I'm serious, Vivian."
"Will you dance a little jig for me if I promise?" she preened cheekily to push the limits of his apology, adding a fond squeeze to his midsection.
"Don't push it" he smirked as he encased her shoulders, her form molding against his in a way that no others matched. Maria always kept an inch of space whenever he'd attempted the affectionate action, only using her arms for touching him as she kept reservations. Most hugs led to the horizontal tango and whenever he attempted to convey his affection, she'd stated that their entanglement was purely physical on her part. Vivian, however, met his body from head to toe as her head rested comfortably under his chin and her boots touched his by settling between them. She didn't shy away from his curiosity with physical contact as he tried to understand it after years of deeming it wrong. He had half a mind to keep her in that same position for hours while he sat in his tent and merely treasured the silence around them.
It was . . . rather pleasant . . . and relaxing.
"Ahem."
The sound of a purposely clearing throat reminded the two that they had a third person in camp they'd temporarily forgotten about. The two were caught like deer in headlights as their private embrace was walked in upon (or intruded in Altaïr's mind). Vivian merely waved in welcome to fight down the blush threatening to surface on her face while Altaïr tried to appear completely innocent. The dai decided to take it as a good sign that Altaïr's apology went well rather than witness Vivian pelting him with rocks.
Altaïr released Vivian immediately as he was caught enjoying that physical contact and reasoned awkwardly, "Um . . . I was apologizing."
Malik decided to ignore the strange antics of Altaïr because he needed to fix his kindling to make a fire. The less he knew the better (whenever Vivian was happy). Vivian smiled at the robed assassin as he broke his own personal comfort barrier for her and teased, "Customized apologies, nice. I don't think I've had enough of that apology, I need an extra dash of sorry and a spoonful of friendship."
There were many facts known about the legendary and bodacious Altaïr but never . . . never did she imagine the man held the capacity to blush.
"Are . . . are you blushing?" she chided gently with an amused smile and he turned around immediately to ignore her question. Why was his indifferent mask slipping between his fingers? What hell was wrong with his face? It felt as if invisible flames had erupted to engulf his cheeks! What kind of assassin allowed a mere badger to fell him?
"Finish your laundry" he ordered hastily as he departed the area to take a brisk walk around the perimeter to make sure no animals followed Malik back. That, and to drive away the sudden blood rushing to his face. How could one little action of human contact warrant that result? And why was she bringing so many incidents of it?
That small moment would snowball into a maelstrom of emotions once they reached their next destination but this was just the first step of many.
Her broken relationship with Altaïr had slowly mended back to its original form from half a year before. She was thankful to know the true meaning of her friendship in his life and that he wouldn't take it (or her) for granted. As their friendship was reinforced, Altaïr took that time to increase her agility in basic fighting skills since her stamina bettered with each month on the road. Vivian was glad to build that confidence within herself to show she wasn't a lost cause but looking back to her old self, she saw the improvement. What sane human being could say they'd jumped out of a window, right?
When she managed to land a decent uppercut to his chin, she considered it a great achievement in her training. Her size only allowed her swats to his head that he was able to deflect with ease so she'd stuck to disabling kicks. Those handy kicks were enough to lower him to her level and she'd earned her first B in Altaïr's School of Hard Knocks (he didn't give A's). She'd been so happy in her success that she'd hugged him afterwards and inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. Needless to say, Altaïr nursed a sore chin that night while Vivian beamed proudly for her victory. It didn't help matters any when Malik gave her tips on his weak points either.
Vivian held back a delighted smile when Altaïr plopped down beside her on the ground and leaned back against the log to ask, "Watching the stars again?"
"It passes the time and I'm still trying to find the images within each constellation" she replied with a disappointed pout as hundreds of stars littered the dark sky above them. The lack of light pollution and loud noises made the archaic era a beautiful one for stargazing. There were a few things the old era had that made her wish they existed in her own time but unfortunately, those times were long gone. Each time a star glittered, she looked to it to see its unique dance and smiled to admit, "I guess astronomy is my worst subject because I see absolutely nothing similar to their namesakes."
"We all have those, it makes us human- perfection is impossible" he reasoned with a light shrug of his shoulders since art was his bane. Well, socialization skills as well but he wasn't the chatty 'I'm going to tell you everything that happened today' type.
"Says the man that can jump off a building and live" she chuckled softly since the man was flawless in strength and agility. Also, she was pretty sure he could bend in a dozen different ways and stopped that train of thought before she imagined anything scandalous. She'd already seen the man's torso bared and touched assassin goods on accident so there wasn't much barring her from a nice fantasy scene.
He smirked confidently to her compliment since he did have that going for him but pointed out, "But my socialization and temper is horrible. Remember Rigby? My shoddy personas? Empathy? I'm not the dashing heroic type that draws immediate attention."
"You're better without a fancy cape or a captivating smile- oh my Gandalf, that's Ezio! He's Renaissance Superman!" she agreed with bright eyes as a flashbulb went off in her head since he fit the mysterious stranger with the dazzling smile persona. Wow, the nighttime was the best time to be mind blown! Altaïr fought the frown that threatened his lips because he wanted to be the heroic man that drew her awe. Was it too much to ask to be admired? He jumped out of buildings on a daily basis too! Where was his 'oh my, Altaïr' for that? It sent her into another topic entirely as she declared triumphantly, "I've blown the Ezio charm factor mystery a new one!"
"No more Ezio" he sighed exasperatedly and hoped no more descendants would follow because he'd feel less of a man then. It was bad enough to compete with one younger generation but multiple? He just wanted one single conversation in the day that didn't lead to the man that was better at him in a public game. Just because the man could glide like a bird didn't mean he couldn't. Well, he probably could but not for very long without risking imminent death. If he heard that one descendant could tangle with wildlife with nothing but their hidden blade, he'd be writing a letter for Vivian's realm with every animal he'd personally wrestled with his bare hands. He fought a Nile crocodile for goodness sake! Where was his . . . blast it, what did Vivian call it? . . . oh, accomplishment trophy?
"Don't worry, I've always liked you extra special" she smiled impishly and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger to emphasize it. Wait. Did she really? He smiled faintly as he felt that same warm sensation in his chest from Lake Victoria rising again. This time, he would not fight it to prevent upsetting Vivian and embraced it for the first time. She was extremely kind to him, more than he deserved, and would never dare hurting her. He was protective of his inner emotions but he wouldn't allow them to lash out again for self-preservation since Vivian could barely harm a fly. If the core values of Vivian could exist in the free civilization he was trying to preserve for mankind, he would die a happy man.
He decided to immerse himself in her humorous quips and managed a curious smile when he asked softly, "Really?"
Vivian chuckled softly since his low voice could charm the pants off anyone and could hear him jabber nonsense all day without having heard enough. Instead, he wasn't much of a talker but that in itself carried value as each word that was uttered meant something. Well, unless he cranky because then, he would nag until he was sated. He was a mystery box in her hands and she always ached to tinker like Pandora whenever she met his gaze. Looking to the clear night sky overhead, a mischievous smile touched her lips but her words carried only honesty, "You don't see me in his time, do you? I am grateful to whatever forces led me here that I met you because I wouldn't be the same. Somehow, I think I've been your anger management therapy."
True, they wouldn't be the same without each other and that made him wonder what would happen when they parted. He'd never admit it but the thought caused prickles of pain and tightness to seize his chest. Would he revert to his old ways throughout the years or remain humbled by her witty revelations? What would become of her? Hopefully, she'd return home and nowhere near any of his descendants to prevent being usurped. He tilted his head to the side with interest to her words and questioned playfully, "So why is it that my name has never been uttered during sleep?"
"Because there are awesomer characters out there that I can't meet like Gandalf, Garrus Vakarian, and Optimus Prime-" she replied cheekily as she counted off the names in her awesome character list and he groaned for bringing it forward. How many people was he competing with? Ahem, for popularity, of course. He should've been glad to have her eyes gloss over another unknown name but he wasn't. A year ago, he would've cheered for it and he cursed his feelings for it. His interactions with Vivian kept confusing him further and he snapped back to attention when she mumbled sheepishly, "It's, uh, a good long list. Besides, you condemned hearing your name, remember?"
His brow furrowed because he'd been rather vocal in the past about her and he mumbled, "Must you always use my words against me?"
"Since your words are law, why not wield them against you?" she grinned cheekily at outsmarting him with that loophole and he frowned to her cleverness. She withheld from laughing since he had quite the attractive 'I should be winning' pouting face and leaned back against the log. Her fingers touched his metal gauntlet as she breached his personal space but it was to point out his meaning in her life, "You're not in my dream realm because you're real. You're here alongside me where I need you the most in this world."
Her answer sufficed and he placed a hand on her head in satisfaction. She smiled to his signal of okay since he didn't lecture her about being soft. His shoulders rose as he leaned back against the log and pointed out nonchalantly, "Still, it wouldn't be the end of the world if I was. I have been your protector for- oh, I don't know- more than a year."
"It kills you that Ezio's in there, doesn't it?" she grinned slyly since Altaïr had a tendency to be territorial but it had grown considerably during the last months. Despite her assurances, he didn't believe that she thought higher of him. His lips thinned as he readied himself to deflect the accusation but she squeezed his arm to smile, "I'll try to have him sink in a boat or carried away by his hoard of fans and have you take his place. Better?"
"It's your dream realm, I can't control that" he dismissed airily as he tried not to let himself be affected that he wasn't in her dreams. Yes, they shared reality together but he hoped her subconscious would include him to show that he meant something. He didn't like the spark of jealousy aimed at his unborn relative and tried to displace it. There was no reason to compete with an unborn man but he wanted her eyes focused on him because . . . she was dear to him. There was a close friendship between them that only deepened but he didn't want to face the fact that not only was Vivian's face pleasing but it pleased him.
Her eyes were expressive enough that they could occupy him for hours as he tried to guess what ran through her canny mind. Her unruly wavy hair lured him to want to comb her hair with his fingers and tuck it behind her ears to keep her round face clear of it. He'd never been the type of man to pay attention to hair but she brought it out in him somehow. Even when she prodded at a random blemish on her face before her monthly friend arrived drew a chuckle from him before he smacked her hands to prevent making it worse. She had become a cantankerous badger to a sweet one that he wanted to hold and be held in return. When she had huddled against him for the first time while on that eerie bloodletting of hers, he was honored to be trusted enough to be sought for comfort.
Vivian linked her arm through his, catching him off-guard as if she'd read his mind and smiled, "But I can talk to you and you're not going to disappear in a few hours. I prefer you over anyone else in this world and all others. Well, except my family, but apart from relatives, it's you."
She used her other arm to embrace him over the shoulder and smiled when he returned it. He was her blanket of security and she loved each rare hug from him.
Malik noticed a shift of color out of his peripheral vision as he read his book and witnessed their embrace. He would've dismissed it for friendship until he noticed the furrowed eyebrows on Vivian and an appreciative smile. Altaïr's was less expressive as his lips were firmly set together and his brow softened from its stern position but his eyes were half-open with warmth he couldn't distinguish. It didn't take a genius to read the nonverbal cues from both and Malik knew he'd just stepped into something that would soon snowball.
"Do you want to know something?" Vivian spoke sheepishly with a sneaky little smile that only served to draw Altaïr even more. The assassin merely nodded as he kept his grasp on her arms and hoped it would be another confession to how she cherished him more than Ezio and any other man. Her smile widened as she squeezed his arms and answered her own question, "I've never written a song about him, have I?"
His eyes widened to what she'd implied with that question and he realized he hated one thing greater than her songs about him: songs about Ezio.
"A smoking assassin on Venetian rooftops
Was burning like a silver flame
The summit of handsomeness and charm
And Ezio was his name
He's got it
Yeah, baby, he's got it
Well, he's your Adonis
He's your fire, at your desire
Well, he's your Adonis
He's your fire, at your desire
His weapons were
His mesmerizing eyes
Making every woman mad
Hooded like the dark night he was
Got what no-one else had
Wow!"
"Stop! Just stop!" he interrupted swiftly to end the torture about hearing of the man's sexual exploits. The message was clear: the Italian was a charming man that carried massive sex appeal that he didn't have . . . and he was supposed to be better at assassinating! How was he supposed to compete with that?
Vivian feigned a feminine pout while Malik pretended to clear his throat to muffle laughter at the just desserts. It was clearer now that he didn't hate her songs as much as he claimed and he curled against the log in an attempt to ignore them all. Vivian, however, rubbed his shoulders to coax him out of that defensive shell since they weren't trying to make fun of him. It worked faster when she placed her chin on his left shoulder and smiled cheekily, "Now can I return to singing about you and your awesomeness like a companion bard should?"
The gentle brush of his fingertips against hers as they laid on his bicep stirred that familiar warm flutter that left her smiling. His answer was one that she'd awaited for more than a year and the most she could pry from his generosity, "If you must."
"A grumpy assassin from Masyaf
Who had risen in the books to fame
The zenith of skill and badassery
And Altaïr was his name. . ."
The sharp-witted historian was quickly earning a rare spot in his heart with each passing day.
A/N: And the trio is well on their way to Quelimane, Mozambique (well, they don't know it yet since they're going by ear) as a true fellowship. Of course, there will be the occasional Malik lecture as he plays father bear but he can finally relax at knowing the two won't be at each other's throats anymore. I recently went to the natural history museum in my city and saw a lot of African animals to use in their encounters, particularly the bold honey badger. I couldn't help but think of Vivian every time I saw a different type of badger (the American badger is so cute) and filled my camera with tons of pictures for fun. lol. Now that Vivian and Altaïr have put all of those wrongly perceived misconceptions behind them, the two are definitely on their road to a budding romance that will bring a lot of laughter.
Thank you for the numerous feedback on my questions, I love hearing both sides from my readers to make a decision. One particular reader, R, gave me the best option to suit both sides that want a lemon and those that don't want it and want the story to continue its normal flow. Thus, I will make a separate companion piece when the chapter arrives and I will inform you all with a note so nobody gets lost along the way. It will please both nay's and yay's without disrupting the story.
Yarotaro: I'm glad to bring joy into your life with the story's humor.
Hanane EL Mokkadem: I have written about a number of things in this crazy story with Vivian, haven't I? lol. I'm surprised (and pleased) to know a lot of people were for the lemon and so it shall be. I'm used to the longer chapters too so I'll be sticking to them, especially since life tends to vary my update times.
Nate The Grate: Thanks, I'm happy to bring you an early Christmas present with the updates. This story will always update, I can guarantee you that. :)
KrnYong: They would have a tough life learning to think for themselves but I'd like to think it would be far better than what they would've had as slaves. An hour of pure freedom would be worth the hassle of escaping. One thing about Vivian is her pain tolerance, especially given her tough menstruation cycles (which do have a medical condition she'll later realize), so she can take the bumps and bruises thrown her away. Those badgers are resilient, after all. Lol. I like how you pointed out how Altaïr sees himself as a deadly assassin only because Vivian is his humanizing key. As the chapters progress, especially now, she'll be showing him that he can be much more than what Al Mualim raised him to be and it will echo when he's raising his children.
ThrowingTrees: There's a lot of variables in pregnancies, whether they'll be successfully brought to term or bring a new gender outside of the AC canon (I did say the story would be a little AU in some parts). Just like Ezio had quite a few illegitimate children of his own that made numerous descendants like Clay and a direct matrimonial line that linked Desmond, Vivian has her part to play. Sef will still be born in 1197 though to maintain that accuracy since I made Darim older by two years.
Keely: I've never been prouder to have an OC so loved and thought of as canon by quite a few readers. The burnt drawings were a tear jerker, especially because Vivian had never shed a tear up until that chapter. Just like all artists and writers, her pieces will become better now that Altaïr won't be nagging her. Since the story has Altaïr's codex being longer than what is found in Ezio's time, Vivian will be drawing a picture of Darim and Sef as children for him to encrypt. Of course, the page will be lost when the codex is torn by the seams to separate the pages to stay canon.
coporal cat: Thank you for loving the story and Vivian's quirky character!
Cecilia Green: There will always be reference to modern games, movies, characters, or occurrences due to Vivian's geeky nature. Lol
East Coast Captain: This story is definitely a sharp contrast to Color the Sky, which is more family oriented with the homesteaders and historically accurate. Thank you for taking the time to read it and good luck with your story, which I'm more than happy to help with.
IsraAl'Attia-Theron: Your review was cut off but I appreciate you taking the time to type it.
Hollownature: Altaïr is definitely not one for emotions but Vivian has humanized him in comparison to how he started while he's given her courage. As for the lemon, they won't be killing the story flow with that humorous example- I can't imagine them doing so without worrying about being caught. I laughed to the enemies twiddling their thumbs part. It will be during their peaceful stay in a port and after months of prodding Vivian to accept his reciprocation of her concealed affection. I'll be making it a companion piece apart from the main story to keep all parties happy.
Fuzz: Vivian would definitely love her little baby and she's already great making catchy tunes so she's a living radio for it. Altaïr, on the other hand, would be the flustered father eyeing the child with curiosity and hoping he doesn't have anything sharp on him. Lol
R: Thank you for loving the story so much in this fandom, I appreciate it. I'm glad to have written a character that blends well with Altaïr to a point that she's believable and a crowd pleaser. I really liked your idea about a stand-alone piece (thanks for presenting it) because that's exactly what I'm going to do to avoid disrupting the story flow. It will allow those that want to read it to do so and those that don't to click the next chapter button to keep the story going. This story has been a great bonding experience for Altaïr (and the readers) and you're right, it is a love that can be seen with the two simply sitting while reading a book. You made me laugh on the 'Altaïr sex fest' because if it isn't an illogical OC doing the horizontal tango with the man, it's Malik. lol
h8onme x: I'm glad you found all of the chapters hilarious, I try to use as many catchy songs and jokes as possible. Haha, I like the sword of fluffiness, I can see Darim or Sef declaring it to their father when they don't get a bedtime story.
person: I appreciate all feedback, even if it's against the majority, and R's idea is the best to please both sides.
Anonymous: Wow, mostly everyone is in agreement for the little present (not the lemon) because I know it will be a plot twister for the time traveling Vivian.
Tea is good: The little gift from an amorous Altaïr will be a good plot twister for Vivian as she struggles to decide what would be best for everyone. At the same time, she'll be kicking herself and keeping it secret to add to that stress.
Lostwithoutdoubt: The trio is definitely working as an efficient team now in comparison to the start of the story that had Altaïr lugging around Vivian while Malik headed out alone. Vivian has a lot of potential to become a good infiltrator under Altaïr's training and I think I might go down that road (she won't be an assassin though). As for Malik's reaction to a flat out no from Altaïr, it will come out when they're in Mali and Malik wants to adopt a homeless dog that follows them. The dai has such a big heart in my story to help people and animals (what single lady wouldn't love that?) while Altaïr will be prodded into it by Vivian for the latter.
Next Time: Vivian and the Great Gender Bender
As the trio traveled south of the African coast, Malik kept a keen eye on Altaïr's behavior as it began to shift over the weeks. He kept Vivian's company more than his whenever they weren't speaking about assassin business. If there was a camel ride to be undertaken for hours, he would hoist her onto his camel rather than letting her travel with him. Altaïr probably didn't see the difference as he adapted the new actions into his normal everyday behavior but Malik was quite the observer. He wouldn't exactly accuse the man of having an attractive inclination towards Vivian since he was still developing his socializing skills. Still, he'd never seen his friend act that way with any women. During his arrogant days, Altaïr told women to consider themselves lucky for earning his attention and although he treated them respectfully, he always saw himself as being right 100% of the time. It was a trait that managed to squeeze through the hubris purge years ago and the one that led Vivian to clashing with him. However, rather arguing until he was blue in the face, Altaïr conceded when he was wrong and stuck to teasing her by pretending to use a haughty front.
To his great and glorious relief, their new tightknit friendship meant no arguments as they solved everything peacefully. For the first time, he hoped that the end had finally come for hearing 'Malik, would you kindly' because he was done parenting the two. Nowadays, he could do as he wished with his tasks and breathe easy at knowing he didn't have to tell the two to shut up. At the moment, he was enjoying sketching the coastline of Mozambique from a shady spot as they took a rest from traveling. The camels were happily resting under the shade provided by a cave while Malik played caretaker.
As for Vivian and Altaïr, the two were enjoying a private walk down the shore as the cold water cooled their tired feet. The sight of the coast served to remind them that they were close to finding the port to Madagascar to find the next item and afterwards, the western tip of South Africa. For the meantime, Vivian decided to lure the assassin to be carefree in a simple wooden hoop game. During his free time, he had carved the item for her for entertainment as they traveled and now she was pulling him into the fun.
And so, as Altaïr stood on the beach barefoot with breeches pulled up to his knees and a sleeveless tunic . . . he realized he wasn't a beach person. The sand made his toes itchy and he couldn't keep Vivian in place as he jogged after her. Vivian giggled happily as she followed the rolling wooden hoop down the shore, looking back at the stoic assassin. Every once in a while, he hollered about maintaining a close distance in case danger lurked. Vivian trusted him well enough to protect her and she turned around when he hollered again to chide gently, "Come now, I'm having fun with this and I'm from across the ocean centuries from here. Get over here and live a little!"
"Vivian, you would find joy with a torn sack" he stated dryly to her joy with the simplest of things but admired that trait. Who wouldn't love a woman whose laughter and happiness came from something as simple as a wooden hoop? Most women would be happy in finding a suitable husband with sizable property rather than a simple toy of all things! Still, it was why he whittled it for her in the first place as the coast provided ample space for her to explore. Her optimism stayed afloat with each obstacle they faced and he was content watching her play with the wooden hoop over the sand.
She smiled impishly as her feet splashed over the water and waved the stick in his direction to say, "Well, at least my life will have a little joy to hold onto when we jump into the jaws of hell."
Grabbing the hoop off the sand, she held it out towards him and challenged, "Tell you what, you outrun me in a race with this hoop and I'll praise you every time you talk."
"No, that's not enticing enough" he rejected with a small smirk as she waved the hoop in the air. It would be fairly easy to keep the thing upright with a stick and didn't see it as a challenge at all. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that in order to nab an easy win and a hefty prize.
"I'll clean your laundry for a week, even your stinky braies" she grinned smugly to offer her next prize and laughed at the end because washing underwear was not appealing. Admired hero or not, she drew the line as a fan at washing undergarments. If he lived in the modern era, she'd have no issue due to washing machines but scrubbing out stains on underwear was humiliating enough. The only reason she added the last part was to see his face because he was a stickler for being squeaky clean and lacking any body odor.
He grabbed a seashell off the sand and hurled it over her head in retaliation to her jab. How dare she imply he was an unsanitary man? And how dare she mention his underwear! She laughed merrily when he objected indignantly with an offended frown, "My clothes have no foul sweat, you harpy. I accept- just to see your scrunched up red little face when you lose."
Thank you for the numerous feedback from the last chapter and if you have time, please review. :)